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luvergirl-866 · 2 months ago

Text

something like love

part - 7

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 10.7k

c/w - language, drinking/smoking, smut

a/n - took me five days but here’s your long chapter!! i really hope this lives up to your expectations! as always lmk how u feel and live react plsss!!! (also, this is completely unedited and i wrote parts while high. as usual. i will come back to edit later 🙂‍↕️)

There are a lot of things you can learn about somebody in ten years. There are the basics, of course: Their favorite color, and whether it changes every few weeks. Their middle name, and whether they like it. Their childhood stuffed animal, and whether they keep it hidden in a closet.

Then, as you go from knowing each other for one month to one year, and one year to five, you learn other things. You learn about their relationship with intimacy. You learn about why they occasionally stare into space for minutes on end, mind somewhere far away even though they make such an effort to stay close to you. You learn how to ask the right questions in order to crack their shell just enough that they open up to you without breaking.

Azzi knows Paige like she’s a fact—solid, unchallengeable, honest.

But this morning, she doesn’t understand a single thing about her. And that’s not for lack of trying.

After their perfect day turned weird yesterday, Azzi had woken up on high alert. She’s so used to Paige being an open book that it makes her endlessly uneasy when she does strange, mysterious things like creating an ocean between them while they’re sleeping in the same bed.

Naturally, being hopelessly in love with Paige has gotten Azzi used to watching her. Analyzing her. Prodding her and testing her reactions.

So when they first woke up, she watched: Paige, naturally, was still sleeping. She had subconsciously moved toward Azzi in her sleep, but not by much. Her lips were pink and slightly parted, cheeks flushed with sleep, back rising and falling softly. The bedroom window was open in an attempt to fight off the summer heat, and birds were singing outside, waking with the sun—which rose in gentle orange and pink hues, shining through the sheer curtains, painting Paige’s skin and hair pastel. In that moment, Azzi really couldn’t blame herself for falling in love with her.

After Paige woke up, while they methodically went about their morning routines, she analyzed: the first thing she noticed was the silence; unusual, unsettling, and oh-so loud. Paige was never a morning person but she was a chatterbox through and through—she’d always wake up talking Azzi’s ear off about nonsense, and she’d do it drowsily, but she’d do it nonetheless.

The second thing she noticed was the way Paige refused to look her in the eye. Not even once, not even for a second. There was no sleepy smile when she woke up to find Azzi next to her, no silly faces while the two of them got dressed, no lidded, sleepy eye contact through the mirror while they brushed their teeth side-by-side.

And the third thing: Paige wouldn’t touch her. Not to brush against the small of her back while she moved past her into the bathroom. Not to pull her hair back for her as she did her makeup. Not even to fix her blouse when she mistakenly buttoned it wrong.

Now, the two of them are in the kitchen, alone—Paige’s siblings are still sleeping and her parents are both back at work, which is a blessing, honestly.

It’s time for Azzi to prod.

“Paige,” she says casually, the first thing they’ve said to each other all morning, “can you make me some coffee?”

Paige looks up from where she’d been on her phone, expression almost surprised at having been addressed. She looks as if she’s about to point to herself and say, “Who, me?”

Instead, she glances suspiciously between the coffee machine and where Azzi leans against the counter not four feet away from it. Azzi almost dares her to challenge her, to say something snarky like ‘Why don’t you get your own damn coffee?’

Paige may be acting weird, but Paige is Paige. And things may be changing in ways neither of them wants it to change but she would still do anything for Azzi. So, without a word, she gets up from her barstool and heads to the Keurig, sauntering all cool and level-headed like she’s not acting odd as hell right now.

It’s a little disappointing that Paige still hasn’t spoke, but not surprising. Sometimes she needs some extra help.

“So…” Azzi trails, waiting for Paige’s eyebrow raise and ‘So, what?’ back. It doesn’t come. Paige stares intensely at the coffee machine.

“How’d you sleep?” Azzi finally asks.

Paige starts rifling through the cabinets for a mug while the coffee starts up. Azzi can barely hear it when she says, “Alright,” but it still counts because it’s something. Two whole syllables.

“Any dreams?”

Is she imagining it? Or does Paige stiffen up at that?

No, she’s definitely not imagining it. Because when Paige turns to finally look at her—for the first time this morning, mind you—her eyes are wide and—is that a flush creeping over her cheeks? “Why you askin’ about my dreams? Did I sleep talk or sum’?”

Puzzled, Azzi blinks at her best friend, wondering why idle small talk would get such a reaction out of her. “Um, no? Just asking.”

Paige narrows her eyes at her, but when Azzi just stares back, perplexed, she relaxes and turns away. “Oh. Aight.”

“Well, I had a dream,” Azzi says. “We were characters in South Park.”

On any normal day, this would’ve had Paige interested and on the edge of her seat like that. But today, Paige just hums, kneeling down to pull sugar and vanilla syrup from a drawer.

“And you sounded like Eric and I sounded like Stan.”

Paige straightens up, heading to the fridge. “They sound the same to me.”

Azzi glares holes into the back of her best friend’s head. “And we were playing basketball. But we were all short and stuff, so the ball was, like, as big as we were. I still got a ton of shots on you, obviously.”

Paige turns around with cream in her hand, Azzi flashes a dazzling smile, dimple and all. Paige barely even glances her way.

She’s not even going to argue with that? She’s not going to laugh at the sheer stupidity of that silly dream? She’s not going to fondly roll her eyes at Azzi’s grin?

Azzi’s starting to think something more sinister is going on here. Maybe alien abduction.

“P?” she asks, almost meekly, a last-ditch effort.

Paige merely hums, beginning to make Azzi’s coffee exactly the way she likes it, and that warms her a little bit.

“Hey,” she says, stepping closer, leaning against the counter beside Paige. “You good?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies. But her voice is…shaky. Not quite like herself.

Beginning to get a little concerned now—not just for the entire trajectory of their relationship but for her—Azzi lays a hand on her shoulder, gently so as not to spook her, almost like she’s a timid dog. “You sure?”

Azzi studies Paige’s face carefully. She’s gone pale, except for the blush on her cheeks, which is now brilliantly (and adorably) pink.

Paige nods, but Azzi doesn’t buy that one bit, and now she’s wondering whether this is really about yesterday like she’d originally thought. Maybe this whole time she’s been so self-centered to think it was about her. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with her at all.

The thought is so relieving it nearly makes her knees buckle.

Almost gleefully, Azzi reaches up to touch Paige’s forehead, and then her cheeks. “Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?”

“Azzi, I’m fine,” Paige insists, and she sounds so defensive that it has the opposite effect.

Sure of herself now, Azzi wraps her hands around the back of Paige’s neck, pulling her down so her best friend’s forehead is to her cheek—something Katie always did to her and her brothers when they were little. “I dunno, P. You feel kinda warm to me.”

“Shit,” Paige hisses, suddenly yanking herself from Azzi’s grasp, staring down at her hands. Azzi follows her gaze to find Paige has spilled a good amount of cream over the counter.

“Hey, it’s okay—“ Azzi begins, reaching for the roll of paper towels, but Paige holds up a hand to stop her.

“Azzi. For real. Just…listen, I need a sec, okay?” she’s still all wobbly, and her hands are shaking as she brings them up to rub at her jaw, eyes closed.

Surprised, Azzi rears back a few steps, putting distance between them. “P, what…?

“I’m fine,” Paige says, but it sounds like she’s on the verge of tears as she cups her own face with her palms and it goes against every instinct Azzi has but she begins to back away. Slowly, like she’s waiting for Paige to change her mind, for her to reach for Azzi and fall into her arms and tell her what the fuck is going on right now.

She doesn’t. And Azzi can only mutter, “I’ll be in the room,” before she’s out the kitchen, heading up the stairs and clutching at her stomach like she can somehow stop the anxiety boiling deep inside.

————————————————

An hour later, Paige is walking through the bedroom door with a jovial smile on her face.

Azzi startles when her best friend walks into the room, preparing to deal with this mood that seems to have overtaken her, and her jaw very nearly drops when she sees the expression on Paige’s face.

“Hey,” Paige says when she spots Azzi (who has been curled on the bed for the past hour, trying to stave off these new existential crises). “Watcha up to?”

Azzi doesn’t reply. She doesn’t even sit up. She just stares at this scarily bipolar form which has somehow taken the shape of her best friend.

“It’s too hot to be out today,” Paige goes on without waiting for an answer. She kneels down to rifle around in her suitcase. “So I was thinking the movies? Just me and you?”

And then she starts humming. Like, actually humming to herself.

Azzi has absolutely no idea how to approach this situation. She’s almost afraid to even move, as if Paige were a motion-activated bomb—because that’s kind of what it feels like right now.

“Yo,” Paige says at Azzi’s continued silence, standing up with a pair of shoes in hand. “You wanna go or not?”

Azzi wishes she could bask in it—the sudden normalcy, the way Paige is talking to her and looking her in the eye and no longer seeming on the brink of passing out. But it’s such a stark difference from this morning that all Azzi can do is wonder what happened in the past hour to cause such a severe change.

“Azzi,” Paige urges, and for some reason that’s what gets Azzi moving.

She sits up straight, staring Paige dead in the eye when she asks, “What is up with you?”

Paige doesn’t get defensive, and that tells her everything she needs to know. “Nothin’. Just wanna go watch a movie.”

Azzi doesn’t return her friend’s charming smile. “Don’t play, Paige.”

Paige has the audacity to look confused. “Huh?”

If she’s going to play dumb, that leaves Azzi no choice but to be direct. “I’m just wondering why you were acting bitchy to me all morning and now you’re walking in here, acting like nothing happened?”

“Oh, that,” Paige replies, but there’s nothing convincing about her clueless act. It’s obvious in the way she averts her eyes, crosses her arms. “I just didn’t feel good, like you said. But I took some medicine, so we’re up.”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi replies.

“Yeah.”

“So, you didn’t feel good. That’s it.”

“Yep,” Paige replies cheerfully, kneeling down to start putting her shoes on.

“And that’s why you couldn’t touch me, or talk to me. Or even, like, look at me.”

Paige stares down at her feet, fiddling with the laces, tying them slowly to put off the inevitable moment she’ll have to stand back up again. “I dunno. Didn’t notice I was doing that.”

“Paige,” Azzi says, and Paige must sense that she’s really serious now because she looks up, watching her swing her legs over the edge of the bed. “Please, just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Paige replies simply, standing with one shoe untied to sit by Azzi on the bed.

Her detachment, her false answers and carelessness, are so frustrating it almost makes Azzi want to cry. “If you’re mad at me about—what I said yesterday, at the lake, then just tell me. I don’t want things to be weird between us just because we’re not talking—“

“Whoa, hey, slow down,” Paige says, and the hand she places on Azzi’s knee is so comforting she really could cry at this point. “I’m not mad at you. Did you think that this whole time?”

“Obviously.” Azzi widens her eyes at her emphatically. ��What else was I supposed to think, when you were acting all weird towards me?”

Paige frowns at that, looking genuinely troubled at the notion of Azzi’s internal conflict. “I’m not mad at you, ma, for real. I just—“ she sighs, taking her hand off Azzi’s knee to run over her face. “I couldn’t really sleep last night, my mind was going like a hundred miles per minute for some reason.”

“About what?” Azzi asks.

There’s that same reaction from earlier—the stiffness and the blush. Like she’s embarrassed, or maybe even guilty?

Seriously, what is that about?

“Oh, nothing,” Paige replies airily, waving her off despite her mildly visceral reaction to the question. “Just a buncha stuff. And then, well…” she trails off, glancing at Azzi to see if she’ll be able to get away with it. She’s met with a stern glare that clearly says don’t you dare close up on me again, and sighs before continuing. “I’ll be real, I did have some dreams last night, once I finally fell asleep. And they were—they kept waking me up, but every time I fell back asleep they’d just come back again.”

“Like, scary dreams?” Azzi asks, brows furrowed. Paige has occasionally had nightmares while they were together, but they always have her jerking around or talking in her sleep so much that it wakes Azzi, who will wake her best friend and speak softly to her of good, happy things in order to lull her back to sleep. It’s never affected Paige so badly that she was a completely different person when she woke up.

Azzi watches Paige’s throat bob as she swallows thickly before saying, “Something like that.”

Azzi doesn’t reply. She doesn’t really know how to—doesn’t know where she stands right now, in this weird, unfamiliar territory they’ve stepped into.

Paige speaks for her, never good with lingering silences. “Hey, uh, a few of my cousins up here—they’re around our age, and they’re gonna be throwing this big party tomorrow. They invited us to go.”

Azzi hesitates. “They invited both of us?”

“They wanna meet you. Since you’re my…”

“Girlfriend,” Azzi finishes.

Paige nods slowly. “Right.”

“And you really wanna go? With me?” Azzi asks.

Paige scoots a little closer, lays her hand palm-up on Azzi’s leg. When Azzi takes it, instinctually, it’s like finding her footing again. “Don’t wanna go anywhere without you.”

One of these days, Azzi will learn her lesson. One of these days, she’ll straighten her spine and figure out how to tell Paige no, how to say what she really wants to say.

Today, though, is just like any other. That is to say, Azzi falls for pretty blue eyes and prettier words, and says what she knows Paige wants to hear: “Okay. Why not?”

Paige grins at her, and Azzi almost forgets this whole strange morning, their little argument yesterday, the kiss that preceded it.

Key word: Almost.

Because there’s this sinking feeling in her stomach that won’t quite let her forget.

————————————————

Getting ready for this party is turning out to be absolute hell.

“Azzi, just get ready at the hotel.”

“No, Paige.”

Paige sighs dramatically. While Azzi has spent the past thirty minutes stressing, carefully picking an outfit that will be cute, reasonable for the weather, and won’t wrinkle during the two-hour car ride to the next town over, Paige has been sitting peacefully on the bed, making unhelpful comments and showing Azzi TikToks every two minutes.

“At least do your makeup there. It’ll sweat off during the car ride.”

“I have a good setting spray.”

“Azziii, for real, I wanna get on the road,” Paige says, practically whining at this point.

Sighing, Azzi shakes her head, knowing she’s going to lose this argument no matter what. “Okay, fine. But still—my outfit.”

Paige, apparently deciding to be helpful, rolls off the bed and sits beside Azzi by her suitcase. “You got so many outfits to choose from.”

“None of them are working.”

“Just wear basketball shorts like me.”

Unfortunately, Azzi isn’t sure she’s masc enough to get away with basketball shorts, a sports bra, and an oversized button-up quite like Paige can. But Paige wouldn’t understand that.

“What about these jeans?” Azzi asks instead of answering Paige’s suggestion.

“Nah,” Paige says, “it’s s’posed to be hot tonight. Wear shorts.”

“Okay…” digging around, Azzi finds a little pair of shorts she isn’t really sure why she brought—she could never wear them around Paige’s family. With all the rips in the front, and the way it hugs her ass, it’s not exactly family-friendly. But for a party…

Spotting the way Azzi’s hand is lingering over the shorts, Paige grabs them up and holds them in front of her. She appraises them for a moment before putting them in Azzi’s lap. “These.”

“You think?” Azzi hesitates.

“Yup,” Paige replies simply. “Think they’re cute. And you won’t overheat.”

With some more help from Paige, Azzi finally ends up in an outfit that the two of them have deemed suitable for the occasion.

(“Are you sure it’s not too…slutty?” Azzi had asked, looking at herself in the mirror—Paige came up behind her and brushed her hands over her waist and said, “Nah, looks perfect on you,” and Azzi’s decision was made.)

Now, an hour later, only halfway through their mini road trip, Azzi highly regrets the tiny shorts and tinier top.

From the driver’s seat, Paige side-eyes her and smirks when she sees her wriggling around for the millionth time, trying to get comfortable. “You all good?”

“These are up my butt,” Azzi complains, pulling at the hem of her shorts.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Paige!” Azzi’s top begins to slip and she yanks it up, frustrated. “This is uncomfortable.”

“I told you to get ready at the hotel.”

Azzi should’ve been prepared for the I told you so, but it still makes her mad and she crosses her arms, staring out the window with what she’s sure is a mean pout.

Paige reaches over to tug on one of Azzi’s braids. “You sulking over there?”

“No,” Azzi replies, even though she very much is.

There’s a moment of silence, and Azzi is beginning to think Paige is done with the conversation before she says, “Why don’t you just take ‘em off?”

Azzi can’t help but laugh a little at that. “You wish.”

“I’m serious,” Paige replies, and with a quick glance at her side-profile Azzi realizes she’s telling the truth.

“You really want me to strip in your car?” Azzi teases, and before, this is something Paige would’ve laughed at before playfully flirting back. But now, Paige’s eyes widen and dart over to her, and Azzi is maybe not completely teasing.

“Chill,” Paige replies simply, voice betraying nothing even though the blush on her cheeks says otherwise. “Just don’t wanna hear you complaining for the rest of the drive.”

Of course, Azzi is not going to take off her shorts. Things between her and Paige are already weird and, not to mention, she’s wearing a thong. It would be crazy. It would be inappropriate.

But these shorts are really tight. And they still have an hour to go. And maybe Paige would give her The Look, the one Azzi hates and doesn’t understand but is also coming to associate with those charged moments between them, the moments where things shift and change and it seems as if any minute one of them is going to surge forward and—

Slowly, Azzi reaches across herself, and unbuckles her seatbelt.

Paige’s breath hitches. “What’re you doing?”

Azzi hums, and her fingers move to her own stomach, letting them trail down playfully to the button of her jeans, watching Paige’s eyes go from her to the road and back. “Just taking your advice.”

“Oh,” Paige says.

Azzi pulls the zipper down.

The two of them have seen each other in various states of undress countless times before—last year, Paige got so drunk that Azzi even had to help her out of her clothes completely and into the shower. But Paige was laughing and rambling and tripping everywhere and Azzi’s sole focus was on making sure she didn’t slip and crack her head on the shower tiles.

Azzi’s never given herself the opportunity to look the way she really wants to. And she’s been operating under the fact that she would never be looked at the way she wants to be, either.

But now, as she lifts her hips off the seat and wriggles out of these tight little shorts, Paige is looking. She’s looking so hard they might crash.

The shorts slide down her leg, dangle around one of her ankles. Azzi lifts her foot and delicately plucks it off. Tosses it into the backseat.

Paige’s hand twitches on the center console. Fingers splaying wide open like they need something to do.

Azzi has spent practically her whole life giving Paige whatever she wants, because that’s what you do when you’re in love with somebody, isn’t it? And so there’s really no thought to it when she takes Paige’s hand. Nothing tentative in the way she lifts their joint hands, pulls them into her lap. No hesitation when she presses Paige’s palm into her bare thigh.

Paige is staring firmly ahead now. The hand still on the wheel is fisted tight, knuckles bloodless. And when she mutters Azzi’s name, it’s quiet but unmistakable.

For the first time, knowing that Paige can see her in her peripheral vision, Azzi lets herself look. Lets herself study the flutter of her lashes, the slope of her nose, the pink of her lips. Her sharp jawline, her furrowed brows, her neck and collarbones. And then her eyes travel back up to Paige’s, admiring the blue shamelessly as she whispers, “You can touch me, Paige.”

Paige’s throat bobs. Her fingers twitch. And then, slowly but surely, they dance over Azzi’s skin. Azzi gasps softly when they brush the inside of her thigh, and that seems to encourage Paige because her hand travels higher, up to wear her shorts would’ve been covering, tips of her fingers getting so fucking close to where Azzi has wanted her for so long.

And then she stops. Straightens her shoulders and focuses more sternly on the road, but her hand stays firmly put before it squeezes just a little bit.

Azzi’s eyes flutter shut.

They may or may not spend the rest of the car ride just like that.

————————————————

Even before they step inside, Azzi can already tell how bumping this party is. Loud music blasts from behind the front door, and flashing LED lights shine through the curtains on the windows. For the first time, Azzi gets a little nervous—with parties, Paige usually finds some random people to branch off with while Azzi hangs out with whatever team members came with them. Now, with just the two of them, Azzi worries about being left in a corner with a red solo cup and a headache. The thought makes her turn to Paige.

Paige, mid-reach for the doorknob, pauses when she clocks Azzi’s anxious expression. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I just—“ Azzi sighs, then clutches onto Paige’s arm, glancing nervously toward the front door and the party that lurks within. “Don’t leave me tonight, okay?”

Paige smiles softly, and Azzi thinks briefly that friends don’t look at each other this way. “I won’t, ma. Promise.”

And Azzi believes her.

When they finally get inside, Azzj counts on them being able to slip in unnoticed, considering how many people must be crammed into this house. But, to her surprise, they’ve barely even shut the door behind them before the foyer—and the open living room beyond—absolutely erupts. People were laughing and talking and singing before, but now there’s straight-up screaming as young adults crowd around the two of them, whooping and hollering and saying things like “Lil Paigey in da house!”

Paige laughs, waving people off as she reunites with old friends, and the crowd seems to be trying to separate them but Paige wraps her arms firmly around Azzi’s waist and doesn’t let go.

After a minute, the crowd calms down, letting Paige’s cousins come up and give her hugs, the three girls squealing (Azzi doesn’t think she’s ever heard Paige squeal before) as they gush about how much they missed each other and how good they look and Azzi almost misses it when one of them says, “Oh my god, hi! Cousin-in-law!” before she’s the one being attacked with hugs.

“I’m so happy we finally get to meet you!” One of them—Avery, Azzi thinks—says quite loudly in her ear.

The other one—Lauren—squeezes her so hard she almost lifts her off the ground. “You’re so pretty! Look at her, holy shit, you’re so pretty!”

After the initial shock, Azzi can’t help but laugh, the excitement from these two girls nothing if not contagious.

After a few seconds, Paige pulls them off her, gathering her right back into her side once she’s free. “Chill on her, we just got here!”

Standing beside Paige, and in front of these two girls, all three of which have matching smiles, blue eyes, and blonde hair, it’s sort of like seeing triple.

“Sorry, we’re just—we’ve been so excited to meet you,” Avery says, cheeks flushed as she grins warmly at her.

Lauren nods in agreement. “P has been gatekeeping you, for real!”

Azzi grins quizzically up at Paige, who shakes her head, thumb rubbing over Azzi’s waist. “Nah, y’all have her social media. I just didn’t wanna share my pictures of her.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, slapping Paige’s stomach with the back of her hand before turning to her cousins. “It’s really good to meet y’all, too.”

The two girls beam at her before reaching for her, each of them taking a hand and tugging.

Paige holds fast to her waist. “Hey, where y’all tryna take her?”

“Relax, we need to give her a grand tour!” Avery says. Azzi wouldn’t mind leaving Paige’s side just as long as she’s with these two girls, but Paige seems to have other opinions about it, if the way she’s relentlessly holding onto her says anything.

“I can come with you,” Paige protests.

“No, P, how are we gonna tell her your embarrassing stories if you’re around?” Lauren jokes, dramatically rolling her eyes.

Paige holds on even tighter at this, and Azzi sort of feels like the rope in a game of tug o’ war. “No way!”

“Paigeee,” Avery whines.

“Yo, for real, gimme my girlfriend back.”

Azzi nudges Paige with her elbow. “I’m good, P.”

Paige looks down at her incredulously. “What happened to, ‘Paige, don’t leave me, I’m sooo nervous’?” Paige asks, all whiny and flirty as she mocks her.

Azzi frowns. “That’s not how I sound!”

Finally, in her moment of distraction, Avery and Lauren manage to wrench Azzi out of Paige’s iron grip. “We’ll take good care of her, Paigey,” Avery assures, slinging her arm around Azzi’s shoulder. “Don’t even worry.”

Paige glares at the two of them, arm outstretched like she’s hoping Azzi will fall right into her, and she can’t lie, she’s more than tempted to.

But she also wants to hear those embarrassing stories her cousins were talking about.

“Go make her a drink or something,” Lauren calls over her shoulder as they whisk her away. “We’ll bring her back soon!”

Azzi sends a sheepish smile and wave her way, giggling when Paige flips her off. Maybe this night will be fun, after all.

————————————————

The tour only lasts around fifteen minutes, but by the time they’re finished, Azzi is missing Paige desperately. She thinks they may be getting a little too attached, but then, haven’t they always been?

When she finally spots Paige, man-spreading on a couch holding two cups, the relief only lasts for a second because then she notices that she is sitting next to a very pretty girl. A very pretty girl with dark skin and dark hair and a gold, glinting nose ring and a laugh that tinkles all the way across the room, even over the raucous noise.

“Oh, boy, look who found Paige,” Lauren grumbles beside Azzi.

Azzi looks over at her. “Who is that?”

“That’s Amariah,” Avery replies. “She grew up in Paige’s neighborhood.”

Amariah. The name rings a bell somewhere far back in Azzi’s memory.

“She’s had a huge crush on Paige for, like, ever,” Lauren goes on.

“And then, when Paige came up during Spring break in junior year, there was this party and they hooked up,” Avery says, and that’s when it clicks.

Amariah, of course. Azzi remembers the call she’d gotten that night, the way Paige’s cheeks were bright red as she told Azzi the whole story of how she’d slept with some random girl at a party. More than anything, Azzi remembers the jealousy, hot and heavy, that had burned in her stomach, and she remembers the way she’d ended the call early only to get no sleep that night—thinking of Paige with another girl.

“Is that so,” Azzi replies.

“Uh-huh,” Avery says. “I’d go get my girl if I were you.”

That’s exactly what she does.

Smiling gratefully at the two girls, Azzi begins making her way through the crowd, marching to the other end of the living room. Paige doesn’t even notice her walking their way, apparently too engrossed in whatever amazing thing Amariah has to talk about. It’s only when she’s a couple feet away that Paige looks up and sees her, and the way she absolutely beams almost makes up for everything. Almost.

“Hey, Az,” Paige says when she gets close enough to hear. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” Azzi replies, unable to keep from smiling back at her best friend. “That my drink?”

“Uh-huh. Been waiting for you.” Paige hands Azzi’s drink to her, then pats her lap, and it takes Azzi a moment to realize that Paige wants her to sit there. Her body starts moving before her mind can catch up, sitting herself sideways on Paige’s lap, skin heating up when Paige’s arm finds its place around her waist. “My cousins bother you?”

Azzi shakes her head, wrapping an arm around Paige’s neck and looking down at her. Their faces are close, noses practically touching, and she can see every detail of Paige’s features, the makeup gracing her eyes and lips and cheeks. Azzi wants so badly to kiss her, and Paige looks like she might be leaning in…

A cough. Loud and intrusive, and it’s not even really a cough—it’s an “Ahem.”

Paige, apparently remembering herself, tears her eyes away from Azzi’s to look over at Amariah. “Oh, my bad, I forgot y’all have never met.”

“We haven’t,” Amariah says, not so much smiling as she is baring her teeth. “Who’s this, Paigey?”

“I’m Azzi,” she says before Paige can introduce her.

“You play at UConn, too, right?” Amariah asks, and Paige and Azzi both nod. “Didn’t know you were comin’ up with P this summer.”

It’s likely been at least a year since Paige saw this girl, and yet she’s calling her Paigey and P like they’re best friends. It makes her tug on Paige’s neck, pulling her head closer almost protectively.

“Couldn’t leave her,” Paige says, and this time, when Azzi looks down at her, Paige does kiss her. Just a peck on the lips, but it makes Azzi take two large swigs from what tastes like the straight vodka in her cup. “Right, baby?”

“Mm,” Azzi hums around the alcohol in her mouth.

“Cool,” Amariah says in a tone that implies she deems nothing about this cool. And even with Azzi so obviously laying her claim, and Paige so obviously all dopey for her, she still has the audacity to scoot a little closer, brushing her hand flirtatiously against Paige’s shoulder. “So, where were we? You were about to tell me that story, from school?”

“Oh, uh,” Paige gives Azzi one last long look before turning back to Amariah, “yeah. Yeah, sorry, lemme try to remember…”

She knows it’s silly, but Azzi is furious. At Amariah, for thinking she has even the slightest chance with Paige, and at Paige, for talking to this girl when she has Azzi literally in her lap.

Azzi finishes off the vodka in her cup, letting it burn her throat and warm her belly. And then, instead of asking Paige to set it on the side table for her, she shifts, swinging her leg over Paige’s and sitting up on her knees so that she’s straddling her, and she barely catches Paige’s shocked expression before she’s leaning over and setting her cup down.

“You finished with that, babe?” she asks Paige, and Paige nods wordlessly, handing Azzi her empty cup. When Azzi leans over again, she knows her tits are fully in Paige’s face.

With both their hands free, Azzi settles back down, sitting fully on Paige, arms around her shoulders. Paige smiles a little wide-eyed up at her, hands resting low on her hips. But then she turns right back to Amariah and continues her story.

What the hell?

Azzi watches Paige’s side profile as she speaks, looking at her just like she looked at her in the car earlier—and the thought of the car, the heat between Azzi’s legs and Paige’s fingers so close to her, possesses her to lean forward and press her lips to Paige’s cheek.

Paige doesn’t respond, doesn’t even falter in her story-telling, but her thumbs start rubbing circles on Azzi’s hips.

So, Azzi kisses her again. And then again higher on her cheekbone, then to the spot beside her ear, and now she’s sort of just trailing slow, sensual kisses across Paige’s jawline, completely unsure how she got here but not about to stop anytime soon.

Paige’s hands slide to the small of her back, clasping behind her like she’s holding her in place. Azzi moves Paige’s hair—which is down, and Azzi loves when Paige wears her hair down—out of the way before placing a tentative, soft kiss on her neck.

Finally, Paige falters. Just a little, probably not even noticeable to Amariah—who is glaring daggers into the side of Azzi’s head, where she’s buried in Paige’s neck.

Gaining confidence from the way Paige’s hands begin rubbing her back, Azzi trails a hot path down the column of her throat and back up, practically licking her way up to Paige’s earlobe before she sucks on it, letting out the quietest, breathiest moan into Paige’s ear.

Paige gasps, but she doesn’t stop telling her stupid fucking story.

Her hands, however, find their way to Azzi’s ass.

Pleased with herself, Azzi takes Paige’s button-up and pushes it off her left shoulder, giving her so much access. She’s on a roll now, and Paige’s hands on her ass feel so good, voice lulling so nicely in her ears even though it’s another girl she’s talking to.

It’s practically feverish, the way she latches onto Paige’s shoulder. Scrapes her teeth against it, bites it, and then sucks. Hard.

Paige stiffens, squeezes her ass.

Azzi doesn’t pull away for what must be an entire minute. And when she does, she opens her eyes, studies the bright-red mark like she’s an artist and this is the best piece of her life. She knows that’ll be purple by tomorrow, and she’s too tipsy to care.

She goes back in and soothes her tongue over the spot, tasting the salt and perfume on Paige’s skin—god, how long has she wanted to taste Paige, just like this? Since she was fourteen? And now she’s finally doing it, and maybe she should suck another hickey into her neck, just for good measure, just to show this bitch Amariah who Paige really belongs to—

“Az,” Paige says into her ear.

Azzi shoots up, and her voice is raspy when she says, “Yeah?”

It’s then that she takes note of how flushed Paige is, how her chest is heaving with each breath she takes. She looks so good like this. Azzi can’t help but lean forward, nuzzling their noses together.

“Hey,” Paige says softly, squeezing her ass which does horrible things to her mind, “why don’t you get us another drink, mama?”

Azzi pouts at her. She does not want to leave this lap.

“I know,” Paige says even though she didn’t even say anything. “I just…” she leans forward until her mouth is beside Azzi’s ear, “can’t hold it together like this. I need a sec, okay?”

And that knowledge—that she has an affect on Paige—turns her mood right around. “Okay, okay.” Reluctantly, she slides off Paige’s lap, straightening out her shorts. “I’ll be right back.” And, somewhat smugly, she looks at Amariah, who is practically fuming at this point. “You want anything?”

“Nah,” Amariah says through gritted teeth. “I’m all good.”

“‘Kay,” Azzi says happily.

She��s not sure, but she swears she hears Paige say, “Thanks, baby,” on her way out.

Fire spreads low in her belly.

————————————————

Later, they find themselves on the floor, all over each other while a couple other girls sit with them. They’re using the drinks they’ve had as an excuse to be practically in each other’s laps, flirting and giggling like nobody’s business—even if they’re kind of making it everybody else’s business with how many people have clocked them tonight.

“Can y’all stop mating for a couple seconds?” Avery asks good-naturedly, elbowing Azzi.

Reluctantly, the two of them pull away from each other, but Paige’s arm stays slung around Azzi’s hips.

“Okay, y’all know what I wanna do?” says one of the girls. There’s only a handful of them, all circled up and pressed together on the living room floor while people party around them. “I wanna play truth or drink.”

“Fun!” Lauren says. “We should do it.”

“Okay, Paige.” This is another girl—Paige introduced them earlier but Azzi doesn’t remember her name. “What’s your body count?”

Paige glances over at Azzi, then uses her free hand to take a drink from the bottle of Malibu they’ve been sharing.

“You keeping secrets from me?” Azzi teases, not nearly as bothered by this as she would be if she were sober.

Paige purses her lips, moving her head from side to side. “There mighta been a few girls I never told you about.”

Azzi gasps, even though she can’t really bring herself to care about other girls—not when Paige is all over her like this. “You gotta tell me later!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paige replies, cheeky little smile and all. Azzi wants so badly to kiss her.

“Love to see Paige isn’t in her hoe era anymore.” The last girl—Azzi actually remembers this one’s name, it’s Riley—laughs.

“It’s about time she wifed Azzi,” Lauren says. “With how damn much she talks about her.”

All the girls nod, and the one whose name Azzi can’t remember says, “Can we blame her, though? Look at her.”

And then they’re all turning to Azzi, cooing and giggling about how pretty she is and about how ‘if Paige didn’t lock you down I would’ve.’

Paige pulls Azzi into her side. “This one’s mine, y’all can get your own!”

Everybody laughs and the game continues. A couple rounds down, when everybody has gotten a chance to both spill secrets and drink a little bit, Azzi gets asked the most personal question thus far, from Avery: “Out of all the people you’ve slept with, who gave the best head?”

Everybody giggles and Azzi is tipsy and not in her right mind so, instead of making something up, she tells the truth, which is, “I’ve actually never gotten head before.”

Everybody stops laughing, looking at her like their jaws might hit the floor. And then Paige is staring at her wide-eyed and she remembers, they’re dating, and she knows enough to know that Paige is an eater, and if the two of them were actually together she’d probably be getting head, like, three times a day.

So she covers it up with a laugh, waving them all off. “I’m kidding. I think you all know the answer to that,” she says, wishing more than anything she were telling the truth.

Paige kisses her cheek. But as somebody else gets asked a question, she’s still got her brows furrowed in Azzi’s direction, and Azzi wonders what she’s thinking so hard about.

For some unknown reason, she can’t wait to get to the hotel tonight.

—————————————————

The two of them don’t actually leave the party until close to one in the morning. They get far too caught up in beer pong, in dancing—in each other.

When they finally get to the hotel, they’re drunk, but not wasted. Thanks to Avery for making them have a glass of water in between each drink.

Of course, Azzi would rather not be wasted. It’s no fun. She loves this light, swaying feeling that comes with being the right amount of drunk.

But with the way Paige has been looking at her all night, she needs to be more inebriated.

It’s only a couple minutes since they arrived at their hotel room and Paige seems to be thinking the same thing. After she takes off her shoes, she flops face-first onto the bed and says, “Wanna be more drunk right now.”

Azzi giggles, walking towards her best friend and sitting cross-legged next to her. “Me too.”

Paige lifts her head. “Think they have champagne in here or sum’?”

Azzi shakes her head.

Paige sits up and makes to get off the bed. “Nah, I’m sure they do—“

Azzi grabs Paige’s wrist. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, pulling Paige to sit beside her. “I just mean…we don’t need to drink more.”

Paige sighs dramatically. “Yeah, I guess you’re probably right.”

“No, silly.” Azzi giggles again. She is so in love with her, cluelessness and all. “I mean…” she reaches into her pocket. And then she pulls out the joint Lauren gifted her earlier. Pre-rolled and everything.

Paige’s eyes light up. “Did you…” she laughs, “steal that?”

“No!” Azzi replies, whacking Paige on the arm. “Nah, your cousin gave it to me. She’s so sweet, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige says, rolling off the bed and rummaging through her overnight bag.

Azzi lays back against the sheets. “Paigey?”

“Yeah?”

“What’re you doing down there?”

“Nothin’, mama, just tryna find—yes!” Paige stands and Azzi leans up on her elbows to watch her get back into bed. She’s holding something square and bright purple in one hand as she crawls rather seductively toward Azzi. “Lighter,” she explains when she gets close.

Azzi smiles widely, excitement bubbling in her belly.

“Hold it up,” Paige instructs, and Azzi does, bringing the joint to her lips, making dangerous eye contact as Paige lights it.

Azzi feels herself relax even before the first puff hits her system. Paige stays close and the smoke blows right into her face, making both of them laugh. Paige stares at her for a moment before saying, “Lemme go open the windows.”

While she’s gone, Azzi takes another two drags, and Paige narrows her eyes as she hops back on the bed. “Aight, slow down. Puff, puff, pass.”

Azzi smiles slyly as she passes the joint, watching Paige smoke it. Paige leans back on her free hand and Azzi lets her eyes rove over her covered shoulders, her sports bra, her stomach.

“Eyes up here,” Paige says, handing it back.

Azzi makes a face, too inebriated to care that she’s been caught.

“You wanna see ‘em?” Paige asks.

Azzi coughs a little on the smoke, “See what?”

Paige raises her eyebrows, then begins undoing her button-up before pushing it off her shoulders. And there, on her left shoulder, are three red marks, already darkening after just a couple hours.

“Huh,” Azzi says, taking another drag, “coulda sworn I only left one.”

Paige snatches the joint back. “Quit hogging this shit!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Azzi would usually roll her eyes, but that would entail taking her gaze from the hickeys on Paige’s skin and she’s not willing to do that for even a second.

“They’re brutal, huh?” Paige asks after two puffs.

Azzi shrugs, leaning up a little more on her elbows when she realizes she’s sliding down. She takes the joint and it hovers near her lips as she says, “I’ve done worse.”

Something flares in Paige’s eyes at that. “To who?”

“Dunno.” When Paige raises her eyebrows, Azzi does it right back, handing the blunt over. “What? You’re not the only one who had a hoe era.”

“Didn’t hear too much about yours,” Paige mumbles, smoking and then giving it back, fumbling for her phone as Azzi takes a puff.

A moment later, R&B starts crooning through the room. “That’s because it’s private, P.”

“Mm-hmm.” The joint is short now as Paige takes it back. “Were you being for real? Earlier?”

Azzi closes her eyes, leaning her head back. “About what?”

“That you’ve never gotten head.”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I was being for real.”

“Hm.” Paige nudges Azzi, and she opens her eyes for another smoke. “Why not?”

“Dunno.”

“There’s no way nobody’s wanted to before.”

“Yeah, it’s not that.” Azzi’s eyes are hooded now as she looks into Paige’s red ones, hands uncoordinated as she hands the blunt back. “I just…I say no, when they offer.”

“Because you don’t want it?”

“Because it’s scary.”

Paige frowns at the joint, which only has a drag left in it now. “What’s scary about it?”

“It’s so…personal.” Azzi shrugs. “I’ve never trusted a stranger enough for that.”

Paige nods, still staring at the blunt. Azzi doesn’t think she’s listening anymore. “That thing almost gone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” Paige looks at her, then back at the joint. “Here, lay back.”

Azzi grins. “Why?”

“Bro, trust.”

Azzi does. So she lays back, watching as Paige lazily crawls on top of her, straddling her legs.

Azzi’s hands move on their own accord, pressing into Paige’s stomach just to feel the muscle there.

With her free hand, Paige moves her hand to Azzi’s chin. “Open your mouth, mama.”

There’s smoke in the air, pressure between her legs. Azzi squirms to try to relieve it.

“Az,” Paige says, and Azzi’s eyes snap to her at the stern tone. “Open.”

Azzi obeys without hesitating, and she’s too groggy to be surprised when Paige puts her thumb in her mouth, humming a little.

She doesn’t even need to be told before she closes her mouth around it and sucks.

Paige sighs, blunt damn near about to go out as she rocks her hips up against Azzi’s crotch just slightly. “So good for me, hm?”

Azzi nods, trying her best to keep her eyes open as she laves her tongue around Paige’s thumb. They hold eye contact for another moment before Paige remembers the joint and takes the last pull.

Azzi feels a little betrayed, thinking this was just a trick to get the last smoke, but then Paige is leaning down, pulling her thumb out and using it instead to hold her mouth open, before pressing their lips together, shotgunning the smoke directly into Azzi’s lungs.

It’s the easiest drag Azzi’s ever taken.

Azzi is only sort of aware that Paige doesn’t pull away once Azzi inhales. She’s only sort of aware that Paige’s tongue is taking advantage of her open mouth, licking into her for the first time, letting Azzi’s teeth graze over it while they kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy.

Azzi’s heart races when Paige’s hands begin to wander, feeling them go from her throat to her shoulders to her tits, where they hover.

“You good?” Paige mumbles against her. Azzi nods.

Paige squeezes her tits, fisting them up and then brushing her thumbs against her nipples, hard underneath her thin shirt and bra.

“Love your tits,” Paige mumbles, pulling away to kiss down her neck, reminiscent of their moment at the party earlier.

“Yeah?” Azzi breathes.

“Yeah, fuck.” Paige’s breath is hot over Azzi’s neck and she tilts her head to the side, moving her braids out of the way.

“Can’t believe what you pulled tonight,” Paige says, leaning down to nip at Azzi’s shoulders.

“On the couch?” Azzi asks. She can’t help but grin thinking about it.

“You got me all worked up in front of everyone,” Paige’s hands move down to Azzi’s stomach, playing with her belly piercing while she sucks hard at the place she just bit.

“Mm,” Azzi says, closing her eyes and letting the memory, paired with the feeling of Paige’s hands and lips, overtake her. “Couldn’t help it. You were talkin’ to that girl.”

“Yeah, fuck—so needy when you’re jealous, huh?” Paige asks, kissing at Azzi’s cleavage. “That’s so hot.”

“You’re so hot,” Azzi breathes. Under normal circumstances, she’d never boost her best friend’s already huge ego like this. But this is the farthest thing from normal circumstances.

Paige smirks against her skin, the cocky bastard. “Yeah? You think so?”

“Shut up,” Azzi responds, gasping when Paige sucks a mark into the top of her breast.

“This outfit—so fuckin’ slutty,” she says, biting at the sensitive mark she just made.

“You picked it,” Azzi reminds Paige, holding onto her shoulders in an attempt to ground herself.

“I changed my mind. Don’t want anybody to look at you, ever fuckin’ again.”

Azzi laughs breathily at this. “Want me all to yourself?”

Paige lifts her head up to meet her lips again, her arms wrapping around Azzi’s back and arching her off the bed, pulling her close. “You know I do,” she says, pulling back from the kiss to look at Azzi with something like reverence. “All mine.”

Azzi isn’t. All hers, that is. Not really. Not even now. Not knowing that all of this is pretend.

But, maybe Azzi has been all her’s since the day they met. Maybe, years ago, a piece of her heart escaped her own chest and made a home happily in Paige’s, and maybe it will be there forever.

So she nods. “All yours, P.”

Paige smiles so, so big at her, and when they kiss again they’re both giggling, not even really kissing at this point.

“Wait, Paige,” Azzi laughs as Paige’s hand moves to her ass, “what’re we doing?”

“Kissing,” Paige replies.

“Duh, I knew that, genius,” Azzi says, flicking Paige’s forehead, which makes both of them dissolve into giggles again.

“But, seriously,” Azzi continues once she’s gathered herself. “You’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine,” Paige says, nuzzling their noses together.

“Do you think it’s—like, okay? That we’re doing this?”

Paige licks her lips, pressing another kiss to Azzi’s. “We can say…we’re just practicing. We said we’d practice, remember?”

Azzi nods, remembering that conversation that feels so long ago now. “We did.”

“So, this is us practicing.” Paige kisses her again, “And it has nothing—“ another kiss, “to do with the fact that I love—“ yet another one, “kissing you.”

Azzi laughs, squirming away. “Paige!”

“Hmm,” Paige responds, eyes wandering down Azzi’s body.

“Hey,” Paige says after a moment, “do you trust me?”

Azzi brushes a strand of hair out of Paige’s face before cupping her cheek, smiling when Paige leans into her. “More than anyone.”

“So…” Paige smiles deviously, ducking down to press more kisses into the tops of Azzi’s breasts, “would you let me go down on you?”

Azzi laughs at the pure absurdity of the question. “P, don’t play like that.”

“I’m being so deadass,” Paige says, and when Azzi looks down, Paige is already looking at her. There’s no mirth in her tone, in her eyes.

Azzi’s stomach tumbles. “…Seriously?”

Paige nods.

“You…” Azzi furrows her brows, “want to?”

Paige leans up, kisses her tenderly on the lips. “You have no fucking idea.”

That is new information. New and insane and something she will work through tomorrow, when she’s sober.

Right now, all she can think of is the ache that’s been between her legs all night. And the way Paige could help her with it.

“Please,” Paige mutters against her lips, “wanna make you feel so good, baby.”

Azzi looks at her best friend. Her swollen lips, the hickies on her shoulder, her tousled hair.

And she says, “Okay.”

Paige’s eyes light up, and she wastes no time clarifying. Her hands go straight to Azzi’s top, making quick eye contact and pulling it off when Azzi smiles at her.

“Fuck,” Paige says, staring at Azzi’s tits through her lacy bra.

Azzi watches her with amusement, running her hands through Paige’s hair. “You’re no better than a man.”

“I’m not,” Paige agrees, leaning down to litter kisses over all the newly exposed skin. Feeling her lips over her warm skin is good, but it’s not…enough.

“Paige, can you…”

Paige’s eyes dart up to her, searching her face. “You want me to?”

“Uh-huh.”

Paige’s hands move up from her lower back to her bra clasp, and Azzi lifts slightly off the bed to make it easier. Paige makes quick work of it and then she’s sliding that down her shoulders, throwing it across the room like it’s offended her.

Azzi’s hazy as fuck, high and floaty and carefree, but when Paige looks down at Azzi and stares, everything suddenly feels too scary, too vulnerable. She moves to cover herself up, but Paige catches her wrists, pressing a kiss against each of them, eyes darting back to Azzi’s with a comforting smile. “You okay?”

Azzi nods, then shakes her head, then squeezes her eyes shut, embarrassed. “You’re just—looking at me.”

“I am,” Paige says, and Azzi hates the way she sounds slightly amused. “Az, look at me, for real.”

Reluctantly, Azzi does, and Paige’s eyes are all red and hooded and the smile on her face is dopey and she looks faded as hell, but this is still her best friend. The one who knows her, who sees her—who is seeing her like this, right now—and who still continues to be her best friend.

“I’ll stop looking, if you want,” Paige murmurs, leaning down to brush her lips against Azzi’s ear. “But I don’t think you want that, do you?”

The ache between her legs is nearly painful at this point. Truthfully, Azzi shakes her head.

“You look good, Az,” Paige responds, pulling away and leaning back down to her tits. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

She looks up through her lashes as she leans down and suckles a nipple into her mouth.

Azzi sighs at the first real contact of the night, hands fisting Paige’s hair to pull her impossibly closer, hips bucking up on their own accord.

Paige holds her down, mumbling at her to be patient while she trails kisses over to her other tit, licking around it and flicking her tongue over her nipple before she sucks a mark into the skin just beside it.

“Paige,” Azzi gasps, cradling her best friend’s head close. “Feels so good, oh my God.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, grazing her teeth over Azzi’s sensitive nipple. Azzi keens, hips fighting against Paige to reach up, looking for any type of friction. It makes her chuckle against Azzi’s skin. “She wants me so bad, huh?”

“Don’t refer to it as she,” Azzi giggles, and Paige laughs, too.

“I’ll say whatever I wanna say,” Paige replies, laughing a bit as her kisses stray further down Azzi’s chest, head bobbing a little to the music in the background while she kisses her languidly.

Azzi smiles down at the top of her head. “This is so crazy.”

“What?” Paige licks around Azzi’s belly piercing, not stopping her when she bucks up this time. “That I’m bouta go down on you?”

Azzi nods, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. “Yeah. Isn’t it crazy?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies, sucking a mark into Azzi’s abs. “Knew I’d do this someday, though.”

Azzi pushes her shoulder playfully. “You did not.”

“Did too.” She smiles devilishly, wiggling her eyebrows while she kisses around the mark she’s made. “You couldn’t resist me if you tried.”

“Shut up,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes.

“Nah,” Paige replies, fingers moving to the button of her jean shorts and fumbling with it. “And you better fix your attitude.”

“What, before you fix it for me?” Azzi asks, lifting her hips to help Paige pull the shorts down.

“Careful,” Paige responds, throwing the shorts somewhere across the room. “Might have to fuck it outta you.”

Azzi nearly whines at the mere thought, and then Paige spreads her legs wide and places open-mouthed kisses on the inside of her thigh, and she really does whine.

Paige bites the soft flesh there, soothing her hands up Azzi’s stomach as she does so.

Azzi’s head falls back once again, because she’s worried if she keeps looking at Paige she’ll come just from this.

“Mm,” Paige hums into her thigh, licking a long stripe up to where she needs her, tongue stopping just shy of her core. “Watchu want, baby? Want me to eat this pussy?”

Azzi’s hips cant up at the words, a breathy moan escaping her lips. “Yes, shit, want you so bad.”

“Know you do,” Paige coos, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s cunt, clothed only in her thong. “So fuckin’ sexy.”

Azzi swears she’s actually floating at this point, levitating off the bed from Paige’s words, her touch, which has gotta be magic.

“Take them—off,” Azzi insists, hands going to the waistband of her panties to do it herself, but Paige stops her.

“I gotchu,” she mutters, kissing down her legs while she pulls the thong down Azzi’s leg, and it soon joins the rest of her clothes on the hotel room floor.

She sits back on her knees, hands rubbing Azzi’s thighs as she admires her, all spread out just for Paige.

And then she bends down and presses the flat of her tongue against Azzi’s dripping cunt.

“Fuck!” Azzi cries out, the sensation against her pussy unfamiliar and sort of odd and so, so good.

Paige licks up her one more time, gathering her wetness before she separates her folds with her fingers and sucks her clit into her mouth, eliciting a surprised gasp from Azzi.

“Good?” she mumbles, pulling back just enough to look up at her.

Azzi nods, pushing her head down urgently. “Uh-huh, just keep going, baby.”

Paige smirks, looping her arms around Azzi’s thighs and pulling her closer, Azzi gasping as she’s jerked forward. She gets back to it, kitten-licking Azzi’s cunt, eyes closed as she tastes her, and then she opens them and groans. “Fuck, Az. Such a pretty fucking pussy.”

A flush settles over Azzi’s entire body at the words, goosebumps popping up over her bare skin even though she’s the farthest thing from cold.

Paige lays one of her hands flat against Azzi’s pelvis, reaching down and using her pointer finger and thumb to keep her spread open while she places filthy, open-mouthed kisses over her cunt, tongue dipping into her like it did her mouth while they were making out. Azzi props herself up on her elbows, chest heaving, wanting to watch. Paige opens her eyes and catches sight of her—hair tossed over one shoulder, tits rising and falling, abs clenching against the pleasure in her core—and groans, sending vibrations straight through Azzi’s pussy.

Paige’s eyes stay open, all hooded and sexy, as she moves her head down and finally dips her tongue inside Azzi’s entrance, pulling a high-pitched whine from her.

Something flashes in Paige’s eyes and Azzi isn’t really sure what happens, but the next thing she knows Paige is burying her entire face in her cunt, tongue fucking up inside of her so good, and Azzi’s head falls back as she lets out a moan that’s downright pornographic. “Oh, feels so good—gonna come, ‘m so close.”

Paige only nods, doubling her efforts and moving her head back and forth, pulling her tongue out to lick repeatedly from her hole to her clit, creating a rhythm that’s absolutely deadly, and then Azzi’s legs are shaking violently, thighs clamping around Paige’s head, and Paige sucks her clit into her mouth and shakes her head, and Azzi practically screams Paige’s name as she comes hard.

Paige eats her through it, slowing down but not stopping, Azzi falling back against the sheets, unable to hold herself up anymore.

“Fuck,” Paige mumbles into her pussy, and when Azzi tilts her head she finds Paige’s mouth and chin shiny with her own slick. “So pretty, mama. Look at you,” she kisses against Azzi’s hole, “comin’ all over my face like that.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, reaching down to push Paige’s head away from her overstimulated cunt. Paige doesn’t budge, kissing up to her twitching clit, causing Azzi to jerk. “Baby, it’s too much.”

Paige’s tongue comes back out, licking delicately at her entrance. “Please, Az. One more.”

Azzi shakes her head, holding onto Paige’s hair, trying to close her thighs. “I can’t.”

“Yeah you can,” Paige murmurs against her, nose nuzzling her clit while she tongues her entrance again. “Be such a good girl for me and take it, huh?”

Paige holds Azzi’s thighs firmly open, and Azzi is already dripping again, so that’s that.

Paige digs back in, slurping at Azzi’s impossibly wet cunt, eating her like she’s a woman starved. Azzi is still so sensitive from the last one and it almost hurts when Paige suckles her clit, but it also makes her whine, hips lifting off the bed to hump against Paige’s face.

Paige moans into her, teeth grazing ever-so-slightly against her engorged clit, and that does it—with a weak cry, blonde hair fisted in her hands, Azzi comes for the second time, hips immediately trying to get away as Paige works her through it.

Wiping her face with the back of her hand, Paige crawls back up Azzi’s body, smiling proudly. “Did so good, baby,” she coos, kissing Azzi’s cheek before collapsing next to her, pulling her into her side.

Azzi lets herself be held, tracing her fingers gently over the skin of Paige’s stomach. “You’re good at that.”

“I know, mama,” Paige chuckles.

“Hey…” Azzi presses her hand against Paige’s stomach and lifts herself up so they’re face-to-face, “Paigey, I wanna do you, too.”

Paige stares at her, then shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good, baby.”

“Please?” Azzi pouts. It’s totally unfair that she’s laying here, naked and spent, while Paige is still fully clothed and untouched.

“We gotta go to sleep, it’s getting late,” Paige replies, pulling Azzi back down.

“Why can’t I?” Azzi pries, laying her head on Paige’s chest. “I’d be good, I promise.”

“I know you would,” Paige replies, and she sounds like she means it. “I just…it’s okay. Really.”

Azzi doesn’t argue any more, because Paige is tracing soothing shapes over her back, and slowly but surely she’s being lulled to sleep.

But she does wonder, vaguely, if she will ever get the chance to do this again. And, more pressingly—what this means for them.

—————————————————

The next morning, the first thing Azzi does when she wakes is reach blindly across the bed for something warm and solid and snuggly named Paige.

Her hands fist cold sheets, and her eyes shoot open.

“P?” she calls, listening for sound in the bathroom. No answer.

Azzi looks down at herself, naked and bruised from the waist down.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Paige,” Azzi tries again, rolling out of bed and reaching for her phone. No messages. No note on the bedside table.

Pulling the sheet up to cover herself—even though nobody’s around—she navigates to Paige’s contact and constructs a message:

Hey, where’d you go?

She waits a few minutes for the answer, but when it comes, it’s wholly disappointing:

Went for a run. Be back by eleven.

The period at the end is all too telling.

Paige fucked her last night. And then left her to wake up cold and alone in the morning.

There’s nothing good about this.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa @router2260 @guesswhoitsn @patri-ots87 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @ijustreadignoreme @pazzilover101

also lmk if yall want the songs i listened to while writing *that* scene 😼

#paige bueckers #pazzi #pazzi fics #azzi fudd #uconn wbb #wbb #wcbb #fake dating #the people's princess #wlw smut #paige bueckers smut #pazzi smut #azzi fudd smut

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twstfanblog · 7 months ago

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*~Period Drama~* Wednesday

A/N: Sorry this took me so fucking long. There is no real excuse, I kept getting sick and then with the intense move we had to do a lot was happening in the few months. WordCount: 7.1K Warnings: She/They OC Pronouns

~Taglist @twistedcece @deltrea @krenenbaker @koebishrimpuwu @cat100200 @emyluwinter @obsessionswithfandoms @ady-hilborn @lucid-stories @girl-nahh-two @itz-hydrodeptus-foxy7 @chyluna @riddlesimps @death-the-jo @a-twistedheartslonging @qixlin @chaosistheonlyway @welcome-to-my-horde @abell2029cluster @kirans-wonderland @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @the-ace-reader @iamsoconfusedallofthetime @chroniccorvus @marvelous-maxi @prolonged-eyecontact @lozplayer @jabberwocky-warrior @thateldribitch @bun-lapin @mel1rose @ladyraeka @ladyzsgolla @kimdourden @noncreativepage-blog @girl-nahh-two @shironakuronatasa @colombia-chan @roseapov @anunholyabomination Start, Part 1 (Octavinelle), Part 2 (Heartslabyul), Part 3 (Savanaclaw), Part 3.5 (Diasomnia pt.1), Part 4 (Diasomnia pt2), Part 5 (Here), Part 6 (Scarabia)

The Diasomnia crew left before Yuu even finished their breakfast on Wednesday. Crewel was not happy seeing Malleus clinging to them when he came to deliver their dinner last night, but the potions teacher didn't say anything past a scoff and an eye roll. Like the past few days the bicolored man had scolded them for their life choices, then shoved a pattern book at them and asked for their preferences.

Morning came, an Octavinelle student showed up with his arms shaking full of food for Yuu and the four Diasomnia students. Breakfast was a calm affair, only for Malleus to stand once he finished his food. He pressed a kiss to Yuu's forehead and gave a small blessing, wishing them a pleasant rest of their day before moving to leave the room.

Lilia called out to him, raising an eyebrow, “Where are you off to? We still have a good hour before we need to go back to Diasomnia to prepare for classes. I'd think you'd want to continue your duty as the royal heating pad…” he chuckled lightly, ignoring Sebek's angered snort.

“I'm aware and I had planned on it. But, I was going to make a stop in Octavinelle to speak with Azul while there was still time.”

…

Yuu fully turned around in their seat, raising an eyebrow at the smiling fae, “About what?”

Malleus only tilted his head in a conscious effort to appear cuter, “You are aware that I adore you, correct Yuu?”

“Malleus, that's my fucking- Don't- don't fucking bully Azul into agreeing with you.”

“I would never. I simply wish to speak to him civilly until we come to an agreement on things…”

Lilia looks up from his meal, already seeing what the younger fae was planning, “Malleus…”

“In fact, I'll bring Jamil with me. He should be a part of this conversation too.”

“Malleus-”

The horned fae had then disappeared in a flurry of green light. Lilia was quick to order Sebek and Silver to search the two dorms that Malleus was headed for while he started his search in Diasomnia; Malleus could be in either dorm. Each of them giving Yuu a rushed farewell before running out of Ramshackle, hopeful they'd find Malleus before he started his ‘conversation’ with the two sophomores.

Even Grim had left a few hours later, playfully stating one of them had to pick up the slack since Yuu wasn't allowed to attend class. Now that they were alone again, Yuu could physically feel their mood dropping. There were options, as there always were. Several friends that they could text throughout the day to keep their mind off of things. Cater, of course, but he was a 3rd year and Yuu could never really tell how serious he was about his schoolwork. Ace and Deuce were a choice, but Crewel might actually give them concussions if he caught them texting during homeroom. (They were filed under maybe, they can suffer in Ramshackle together if the Adeuce duo got concussed). They briefly thought of adding Lilia to that list then decided against it, along with Azul, Jamil, Silver and Sebek; they'd no doubt have their hands full of talking Malleus down.

Idia was most likely in his room dual-screening his classes and whatever RPG-mmo or anime he had started recently. Maybe he could answer them on why Ortho had been radio silent since they saw him on Saturday…

But, in the end, laziness won and Yuu simply returned to the nest Malleus had so lovingly crafted for them. It was warm and cozy, but definitely too big for just themselves; left too much space for their thoughts, mental conversations that told them of the multiple things they needed to do yet physically seemed too daunting at the moment. There were dishes to do that were never finished from Saturday, they definitely needed a shower, or at least to wash their face properly. Sighing, they just curled up in their too-big nest and closed their eyes. A nap fixes everything after all.

Three sharp knocks wake them up. Blinking in mild confusion before another three sharp knocks echo in the downstairs rooms. Yuu grabs their phone from outside the nest and looks at the time, only a few minutes past noon. Crewel must be bringing them lunch. But then they remembered Crewel had a horrible habit of thinking he was too good to knock on doors, simply opening and slamming them so hard he had no doubt gotten a door knob stuck in drywall before.

So who the hell-

The door opens, the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors flanked by more muted footsteps after the door was shut again. Yuu looked up from their phone to see Vil walk into the entryway of the lounge, hands filled with a cloth-wrapped package and a shiny hydro flask complete with a teal straw. From the side of the archway, Yuu could see Epel and Rook poking their heads in with expressions of wariness and glee respectfully.

“Oh, so you are awake. I knocked and you deliberately ignored me.” The actor rolled his eyes, walking further into the room and placing the package and hydro flask at the edge of the nest as faux offerings, “I took the liberty to make you lunch to reflect your body's needs. I expect you to eat it all.”

Yuu looked at the packaged food, no doubt filled with Vil's horrible idea of a ‘balanced’ meal; AKA, unseasoned. They blink, looking up to the junior, “I just woke up.”

Vil's expression grows more exasperated, the corner of his lip curling over his almost unnoticeable fangs in a mild sneer, “It's past noon…”

“Wow, Vil. You're so good at telling time. That's an amazing skill you got there…” Yuu's tone was flat, eyes slowly blinking as they kept focus on Vil's displeased face, “Did you train to read clocks or like-”

“Alright, that's enough out of you-”

“Mon vieille amor! It's been so long since I've seen your visage.” Rook rushed in, kneeling in front of Yuu's prone form before they could actually gode Vil into a scuffle, “I've been in a state of heartbreak since Crewel placed the visitor ban on your home. Though my woes eased and soul sung when I noticed you were still accepting guests regardless! Is company an aid or a sacrifice during your plight?”

Yuu looks to Rook, making sure the Florian could see them blinking one eye at a time; a common way Yuu could silently tell Rook to ‘Shut up’, “...Could be better…could be better…”

Vil's brows creased, his annoyed expression moving to confusion, “That…is not answering the question…”

“What are you, a fucking lawyer?” Yuu rubs their eyes, “I just woke up, give me a minute.”

“Honestly-”

“Isit true yur bleeding out yur butt?” Epel called out from the entryway, ducking back when Vil quickly snapped to glare over his shoulder at the first-year.

“Epel!”

“A-ah wanna know!”

Yuu finally propped themselves up, leaning weight on their elbows as they looked at Epel in confusion, “Why the fuck would I be bleeding out my ass!?”

“That's what Deuce said!”

“Why is Deuce saying I'm bleeding out my ass!?”

Epel shrugs, his face just as bewildered as Yuu's, “Ah don' know!? He said Riddle said sum shit about it-”

“Epel.”

The first-year shut his mouth, looking away from Vil's no doubt glacial glare and tapping his pointer fingers together before he clears his throat. Epel spoke carefully, his accent being lost in his conscious effort to not swear, “Um…Deuce read some of Riddle's notes? I don't think he read them right, but then again I don't really…know where you're bleeding from…”

Yuu scoffs, “It's not my ass, I'll tell you that much…”

Rook perks up, eyes wide as his hands cover his mouth in a show of surprise, “Mon Dieu! I had hoped I misheard Monsieur Crewel. Are you truly bleeding from such an area, mon vieille amor…?”

“Ye…”

Vil gave them a concerned glance, opening his mouth only to whip around to glare at Epel's softly muttered ‘gross’. Once he was properly scolded into silence, Vil looked back to Yuu, “Are you feeling alright? I heard from Crewel that he wasn't going to give you any more pain potions. Which is valid, so many potions in such a short amount of time isn't healthy for the body. But that does leave you without proper pain relief…”

“Lowkey, it’s so fucking weird you and Crewel hang out as like puh-seudo equals. Like, just admit you're both part of a fucked up clone project to destroy teenage boys through fashion and aggressively sharp eyeliner.”

Vil's look of concern quickly fell, glaring down his nose at the equally stone-faced first-year, “Oh, are we fighting? Is that what you decided is going to happen? I come to you civilly, with food and concern, and you decide we're going to have a petty argument as my thanks. Understandable. You are a child.”

“How's it feel to fight a child and lose? Because you are, you're losing.”

“It feels like listening to you prattle on is clogging my pores…”

“You know what pores are?” Yuu gasps, mockingly covering their mouth as they whisper to Rook, “Embarrassing.”

“What does that MEAN-”

Epel and Rook share a look, letting the two continue with their back-and-forth ‘bickering’. To the outside view, the two seemed to actually be arguing. But Epel knew Yuu and Rook knew Vil. While Yuu was a bully at their core, the way they poked at Vil was much softer than the people they actually verbally bit at. And Rook knew his queen was an icon of polite rebuffs, though that wasn't always his thoughts. Vil felt the need to chew people out every now and again as any stressed individual would. Yuu simply was a worthy opponent of wordplay.

The two film research members did enjoy each other's company though, they wouldn't keep spending time with each other if they didn't. If they found joy in verbally slapping at each other and critiquing bad movies until they were a fine paste, who were they to judge them…?

Truly, ‘Sibling Core’ as Cater once joked (only to be promptly cursed by Vil to trip every third step until he took back his statement).

“You're like an egg…that was cracked in the carton and just got a sticky film all over the other eggs so you don’t wanna touch them.”

Vil tilted his head back to let out a single laugh before glaring back down at Yuu, “Oh, I'm a residue now? You're one to talk, you greasy onion. You look a mess, your hair is even more a bird's nest than normal, and I can see the state of your skin from here. You clearly haven't been using the skincare routine I gifted you…”

…

Yuu opened and then closed their mouth, a repeated action that made Vil raise a single eyebrow. The star already had another comeback locked and loaded, but he could be patient for Yuu to think up a response. He had to be fair after all…

But the comeback never came. Instead, Yuu started to blink rapidly, a look of frustration blooming on their face before they simply bowed their head and let out a single sniffle. Then one sniffle became a choked back sob, as they fully curled into themselves to hide from view.

Rook straightened himself beside the nest, already reaching out to comfort Yuu, “Oh, mon-” only to be shoved out of the way as Vil dropped to his knees to grab at Yuu's shoulders.

“Are you crying!? No, I'm being completely serious, are you actually crying?” When the response was another wet-sounding sniffle and whimper, he climbed into the nest, a look of panicked determination slowly overtaking his face, “Don't-don't cry. Come on, let me- is it the cramps? Here, this yoga pose should help ease the pain. Let me get you into it.”

Vil worked quickly but gently, managing to put Yuu into a sitting position with their knees bent and the soles of their feet pressed together. He crawled deeper into the nest, placing himself behind them and wrapped his arms around their middle when the crying first-year tried to fold back in on themselves.

“No! You're going to hurt yourself, you are not that flexible. Is this helping? I have other poses that should help. Please, stop crying. We can watch one of your horrifically scarring children's movies if you stop.”

Epel had retreated back to the entryway, gripping onto the wood and looking at Yuu in confused terror, “What's happening!? What did you do!?”

Vil glared at Epel, shaking his head, “Don't you blame this on me- Yuu, don't tell Crewel I made you cry.”

Yuu sniffled, trying to lay limply in Vil's hold but the 3rd year kept them upright, “I'm sorry, I don't wanna cry anymore…”

Rook had pulled himself from the floor, gently cupping Yuu's cheek as he gazed at them in worry, “Mon petite! What has caused such sorrow? Truly mon roi’s words weren't so harsh…?”

“I just…I feel bad. I haven't really felt good and it makes it hard to do things. I gotta list of chores I haven't done because I've been on the edge of hysteria for the past few days. I haven't showered since Saturday because I just wanna sleep and standing is annoying. Vil, I was gonna call you Monday, I promise. but then I went to school and everything was annoying and then I threw up and I forgot-”

Yuu's ramble slowly turned into more tearful crying. Vil was only mildly elated, as his words seemed to simply be a trigger instead of the main cause. The issue now was that they didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. And the last thing Vil wanted was for the first year to manage to cry themselves actually sick during his visit. Crewel would never let him hear the end of it…

Vil reached out of the nest, grabbing the thermos and trying to place the straw into Yuu's wailing mouth, “Here, have some smoothie. Get a healthy liquid in your body-”

“I don't want your fucking green juice, Vil!”

Everyone subtly leaned away from Yuu, eyes wide at the raw anger they suddenly displayed. Vil still pressed the cool flask to the first-year's face. Both to pointedly demand they drink the smoothie and to help cool the flushing of Yuu's cheeks.

“It's not my blend. I used nothing but fruit in this! Strawberries, peaches, and mangos!” And a handful of spinach because lord forbid this child eat a vegetable; but he wasn't going to tell them that, “It's a treat, since you've been so ill…”

Yuu cast a disbelieving look to Vil, face pinched together before they finally took a sip from the flask's straw. At the promised taste of nothing but fruit, they took another gulp. Taking the flask from Vil they weakly say, “It's good…thank you…”

Just as the Pomefiore trio thought they were in the clear, Yuu took in a shuddering breath that quickly turned back to a tearful muttering, “Sorry. I'm serious, I'm trying to stop crying.”

Epel called out from the archway, finally stepping fully into the room now that Vil was half grappling with Yuu, “What ya even cryin’ about? Ah know Vil's smoothies suck but they aint always that bad…”

Vil muttered briefly for Epel to stop blaming him for Yuu's crying fits. Yuu had taken another pause to gulp at the chilly fruit smoothie, taking the offered wrap Rook had handed them from the now-opened lunchbox.

“Dude, I've been a fucking train wreck for the past half week. This shit is normally over by now and I'm still dropping clots.”

Rook and Vil share a mildly horrified look at the mention of clots. Why are clots involved in this? Are clots supposed to be involved?

“I'm reaching new mental and emotional ATLs at, like, random intervals, I've got a sink full of dishes that I don't wanna do and I don't wanna ask anyone to do. I gotta shower, that's just a fucking fact; I don't wanna shower because while I'll feel great afterwards, that's a whole mental race just to get into the shower for some reason. And I'm also upset because I've gotta do so much laundry once this shit is over because I've been bleeding all over the nice things you guys have given me for the past four days-”

“Okay, okay.” Vil quickly shushed Yuu, guiding the chicken wrap from the lunch into their mouth in an effort to stop their hysterical spiral. Once Yuu was chewing the food, he snapped his fingers and called his other dorm members to attention, “Epel, go to Crewel and get the surprise. Whatever he has ready, simply package it and bring it back here. Rook, go to Pomefiore and bring me my spa kit.”

Epel nodded, turning around and rushing out of the room to race back to the school with nothing said other than ‘I'm on it’. Rook smiles, kneeling on one knee and bowing with a hand over his heart.

“Which kit would you prefer, mon roi?”

“The big one.” Vil looked to the freshman in his arms, sighing softly before turning back to Rook, “And stop by Sam's to get them another treat…” He smiles at Yuu, tilting his head in a questioning manner, “Would you like a treat, dear little onion?”

“...” Yuu sniffled, “I want a chocolate bar…”

Vil nodded, petting Yuu's head, “Get them a dark chocolate bar-”

“I want a milk chocolate bar…”

“Dark chocolate is healthier, onion…”

Yuu sniffles, voice breaking at random intervals as they start to cry again, “I want a milk chocolate bar-”

“Fine. Oh my seven. Rook, get them a milk chocolate candy bar and my large spa kit from my room.”

“Oui!” With a chuckle and tip of his hat, Rook turned to exit the room, “Please no fighting while alone, you both fight dirty when no one is looking. Je reviens!” He waves as he disappears around the corner.

With Rook gone, Vil sighed. Mildly resigning himself to the act of cuddling his pseudo-sister until the others return. Gently carding his hand through their hair, he couldn't fight the grimace his face did at feeling its texture.

“Lord, your hair is greasy…”

Yuu looks at him, face almost pathetic with tears in their eyes, “Vil-”

“I'm going to fix it! It's fine! Shhhhh, eat your wrap. It was strangely hard to make food for you…”

Yuu takes another bite of the wrap, speaking around their full mouth, “I can see why. It actually tastes good, that must of been hard for you to do.”

Vil scoffs, petting Yuu's head as he glared off to the side and mumbled under his breath, “You are so lucky you're in pain…”

Epel was mildly surprised he managed to beat Rook back to Ramshackle. With an oblong box tucked under his arm he entered the dorm, stopping briefly in the entry hall as he heard music. Closing the door behind him, he walked further in; the sound of the upbeat music getting louder and accompanied by soft groans.

“Hello?” Epel peaked into the lounge, his confused face fading seeing Vil lead a very unwilling looking Yuu in exercise.

Vil's voice cut through the music, jacket off as he gracefully did knee lifts to the beat of the music, “ -One and two, and one and two, and- knees up, onion! No wonder you feel awful, you've been doing nothing but laze around for days straight.”

Yuu groans, but picks their knees up higher in the standing knee lifts Vil had bullied them into doing, “Fuck you! I've been in pain for the past few days! I'm allowed to be lazy!”

The third-year rolls his eyes, his only show of solidarity being he was exercising alongside Yuu, “Please. You've become so lazy in a matter of days that your own body is deteriorating; You could normally do this easily; I'm not letting you whine and pout your way out keeping yourself healthy.”

Yuu glared over to Vil, shaking their head slowly yet staying in pace with his knee lifts, “I swear to the Seven, I'm gonna find your fucking Eros Era white suede jacket you hide from me and I’m gonna fucking bleed all over it.”

Vil glared back with a matching intensity, “You stay away from my white clothing, you little-”

“Ah'm back!” Epel quickly yelled out, holding the box into the air, “Ah got the goods!”

“Oh perfect timing, the infant was getting on my nerves…” Vil was quick to stop the music, handing a panting Yuu the hydro flask before walking over to Epel. He clicked his tongue, seeing Crewel had taken the time to wrap the box before giving it to Epel, “How many did he finish?”

“Hm…” Epel looked down at the box; matte black wrapping paper and a bright teal ribbon tied into a bow. Thinking back he tried to remember just how many colorful pieces of cloth he saw Crewel throw into the box, “Ah think…around nine? Maybe ten? There were a lot of patterns…”

“Good enough…” Vil sighed, but took the box from Epel's hands, calling out to Yuu chugging from the hydro flask, “Yuu! Come here, we have a gift for you in this trying time.”

“If you give me more health shit, I will actually start swinging…”

“Just open the box.”

Yuu rolls their eyes at Vil's annoyed pout, snatching the box away from him and tearing the paper away. Once the box was bare, they opened it and looked inside in confusion, “What are these? Fabric samples?”

They reach into the box, pulling out one of the ‘samples’ only to see it had already been cut and stitched into the shape of boyshort panties. They almost put the underwear back into the box, a mix of annoyance and frustration at seeing the cute patterns. What use was underwear to them right now? They would just ruin it by bleeding through it…

Then they notice the black fabric seeming to take up the entire inner lining of the panties. Yuu raised an eyebrow, rubbing their thumb against the foreign feeling material, “What…is this?”

Vil smiled, watching as Yuu seemed to slowly realize what they were holding, “These took quite some doing; Crewel has been working on these articles since Saturday, I believe. He had to consult with Ms. Oster on what materials would respond best to the blood absorption potion, since gauze would certainly be unpleasant against such an area…”

Yuu's eyes seemed to widen, glittering as they looked through the box at the adorable patterns, “He made me period panties!? Holy shit, I love this!” They squealed, moving to rush off to put their new underwear on, “I'm gonna wear them right now!”

Before Yuu could rush past Epel, Vil gripped the back of their shirt and yanked them back, “Oh no, you're not. You're going to get into the shower and scrub up. Then we're going to wait until Rook is back with my spa kit and then you're going in the tub.”

“Does the mold in the air give you hyper bitch powers? Is that why you act like a total mom anytime you're in here?”

Epel mumbled under his breath, looking at the corners of the room in concern, “Wait, there's still mold…?”

Vil scoffed, snatching the box and underwear from Yuu's hands pointing to the stairs, “Just get in the shower before you start growing mold.”

Yuu mumbles in a high pitched tone, mocking Vil as they walked up the stairs.

Rook had luckily appeared only a few minutes after Yuu had exited the shower. Though firmly scrubbed down and ready for a long soak, Vil had spent the past five minutes critiquing Yuu's unwashed hair. The annoyed first-year stating Vil was the one who said he was going to ‘fix it’.

What Yuu wasn't expecting was the size of Vil's ‘big’ spa kit. They had assumed it would at best be a briefcase filled with a few high quality bottles of bubble bath and skin care. Instead Rook walked back into the lounge wheeling behind him what Yuu could only think was the biggest rolling suitcase they had ever seen in their life. It was dark indigo, gold trimmed and hard shelled; a small lock keeping it closed.

Rook sighed, pulling the suitcase to stand in front of him, “Mon roi, apologizes. I would have been back sooner but you had changed the passcode to access your more extensive kits…” He looks to Yuu, pulling a large candy bar from his breast pocket, “And your treat, mon petite!”

Yuu smiled, taking the candy from Rook and pocketing it in their fuzzy robe, “Oh, sick, thank you, Rook. Also, what the fuck is that?” They pointed to the hard plastic carrier, looking questioningly as Vil walked forward. They raise an eyebrow, watching Vil pull a key from a chain around his neck and unlock the suitcase, “Oh, damn; is this it? Is that the launch codes?”

“Shush. Now pick a fragrance; some of these oils do NOT mix nicely together…”

“Uh…floral?” Yuu watches as Vil rolls his eyes, and opens the suitcase.

The case had bottles upon bottles of various liquids strapped to the lid. In the bottom half, Vil folded out multi-shelved displays holding more secured glass and gold trimmed vials. The bottom of the suitcase holding a sealed container of white powder.

Both Epel and Yuu blinked in wonder as Vil seemed to build out an entire pantry’s worth of shelves. Rook stood behind them smiling. The other 3rd-year adored watching Vil work, the very fact this was only one of his kits never failed to amaze him.

“Honestly, the most basic…It's fine I can work with that…” Vil looks through the multiple shelves, grabbing vials from labeled sections. He snaps his fingers, conjuring an ornate bottle and filling it half way with the powder. Grabbing vials, he delicately pours small amounts into the bottle, “Jasmine…Vanilla…and…” he smiles, grabbing one more vial, “And Lavender!” Vil pours the final oil into the bottle, grabbing a few other vials and adding them in before capping the bottle.

With a flick of his wrist, magic courses through the glass and mixes the contents perfectly. Vil smiles as he presents the ombred soap to Yuu, “There we are. One floral scented bubble bath to promote muscle relaxation, moisturize, and just a bit of skin protection.”

Yuu oo’s and aa’s, laughing at Vil's glare seeing they were clearly taunting him.

“Just go get in the tub. You've eaten, exercised, and showered off the days of grime. Now you can simply relax and let the warm water fully heal you.”

Yuu was already half up the stairs, smiling at the swirling colored soap in hand, “Don't gotta tell me twice…”

Ramshackle was a big building. It was hard to see at times with how massive the other ‘official’ dorms were, but Ramshackle was an insanely big home for two people alone. A fact that was discovered during the VDC.

There were many a locked room in Ramshackle; a fact Crowley seemed to find no issue with and only produced random keys to open the doors for them when he wanted to.

But, luckily for Yuu, during the VDC Rook had ‘revealed’ his love of kicking down doors. So of course Yuu let him kick to his heart's desires. And surprisingly, one room had been a massive bathroom; a small pool-sized indoor onsen that sat in a raised stone platform, the area seemingly themed after a jungle grotto. Kalim had concluded it was potentially a group bath, noting that behind the brittle vines were changing rooms and there was a clogged drain in the center of the room. Vil had been elated to see it, and after a thorough cleaning the group had taken to after practice soaks in the warm waters.

But now, it was simply Yuu's favorite bathtub.

They sighed contently, the bottle of bubble bath already half gone. Flora scented color changing bubbles blanketing them. A small towel over their face, they had no plans to leave the tub for the next four days if the water stayed toasty.

They sighed, hearing a knock on the door, “Come in, I guess…”

Vil opened the door lightly asking if they were covered before entering. When Yuu consented he stepped into the room, his arms filled with a basket holding a number of bottles and more towels.

“Honestly, you would waste the water to fill this tub up, just for yourself.”

Removing the towel on their face, Yuu flipped Vil off but didn't move as the third-year knelt beside them, “Leave me alone. It's my tub anyway. I'll waste the water if I want.” They sunk lower into the tub, ignoring Vil gently tugging on their hair to bring them to the edge.

“Come here, I'm washing your hair.”

“I already washed it.”

Vil tugged harder, fully jerking Yuu's head around as he glared. Their hair was an offensive texture, mildly wet, yet still clearly greasy, “You did not. Now stop being a brat and rest your head against the edge.”

Yuu groaned loudly, letting Vil place one of the towels at their neck before tilting their head back. Vil poured water over their hair, thoroughly soaking it before applying the first of many the products he had brought up.

Vil sighed, working the shampoo into Yuu's hair and scalp, muttering under his breath, “I swear, I have no idea what this aliment is but you've managed to deteriorate in a matter of days. And you went to classes in this state? Your motives don't add up if you were trying to keep this all a secret.”

“Are you here to just nag me and have the option to drown me if I talk back?” Yuu had deadpanned, blinking lazily at the ceiling. They tilted their head back further to look at Vil when he sighed heavily.

“I was very…concerned. Well connected you are, you seem to forget you are a teenage girl who's been displaced in a completely new world with no actual support system past your schoolmates. There was no telling what had happened to you when I didn't hear back…” Vil poured more water into Yuu's hair, rinsing out the suds and applying a second lather. “I take my care for you very seriously.”

Yuu huffed, rolling their eyes but keeping still as Vil cleaned their hair, “Yeah, is that why you made me exercise?”

“Yes.” Vil scoffed, rinsing Yuu's hair again and looking over his assortment before picking up a new bottle, “Annoying as you may be, you are one of the freshmen I've chosen to take under my wing. And as such I will help you reach your full potential.”

“By force?”

“If it comes to it; we both know in an actual fight I would win…” Vil hummed working the product through Yuu's hair, “I know whatever is happening is painful for you and that is tragic on its own. But lazing around was doing you no good in the long run. If anything it was making things worse since you barely had the energy to move.”

Yuu rolls their eyes, “Well, yeah…this shit hurts. I don't wanna move or do anything…”

“But once you did, you felt more energized, didn’t you?” At Yuu's silence he smirked in triumph, “Call me mean all you like, but I expect you to treat yourself properly at all times. That means eating healthy, exercising, and pampering yourself as needed. Since you are in pain and quarantined, I will pamper you myself today.”

“...” Yuu tilts their head back again, smiling at Vil who smiles back, “Thanks…” Yuu moves to fully relax in the tub, color shifting bubbles acting as a faux blanket while Vil massages the product into their hair.

Only a few moments passed before Yuu's eyes blinked open. The products smelling familiar yet still foreign, “Wait, what stuff are you using?”

Vil didn't answer, contently working more product into Yuu's hair.

Managing a glance to the basket, their eyes caught a familiar bottle that made them groan and attempt to escape Vil's grasp, “GOD DAMN IT, VIL!”

“I will drown you, stop fighting me-DON'T YOU SPLASH ME!”

Yuu scowled, glaring at an all too pleased Vil as he sat in the nest beside them applying a green tinted face mask to his cheeks. Their once straight hair had been restored into its natural state of fluffy 4A curls, “You just can’t let shit fucking be.”

“The very fact you willingly heat damage your hair to keep it straight is a crime I should kill you for.” Vil gently cupped a handful of curls in his hand, smiling as he bounced them lightly, “Your natural hair is gorgeous, you should wear it like this more option.”

“I should shave your head.”

“I should-”

Epel spoke from his spot beside Yuu, hair pinned back as he wore his own face mask, “Can y’all not fight when Ah'm like two inches away from ya?”

Vil huffed, rolling his eyes but releasing Yuu's hair, “We're not fighting.”

“Y’all are two cherry pits away from actually swinging on each other…”

Yuu snorted, whispering loudly to Vil so that Epel could still hear, “He's traumatized because me and Sebek bumped into him when we had a disagreement at a sleepover once-”

Epel glared, punching at Yuu's thigh, “You two rolled onta me while I was asleep and fought on top of me until Jack pulled ya off!”

Yuu whined, forcibly trying to kick Epel away from them as the other first year started to punch at them repeatedly, “Vil! Epel hit me!”

Vil hummed, checking his nails and barely acknowledging the two squabbling next to him, “Epel don't hit Yuu. She's already leaking blood.”

Epel groaned and made a series of grossed out noises before trying to escape Yuu's range.

Yuu hummed and lifted their sleep shirt, looking at their new brightly patterned underwear, “Leaking isn't a problem anymore. These bad boys are iron clad; I don't even feel damp.”

“Put your shirt down.” Vil groaned, quickly pulling Yuu's shirt down to cover their underwear properly. Rolling his eyes as Yuu flashed their panties one more time before he stood, “I'm going to make myself a snack for the movie.”

“Rook is making us snacks for the movie.”

“No, Rook is making you both snacks. I'm making myself a snack that isn't going to be an unhealthy mess drowned in mayo and salt.”

The third-year walked away, waving over his shoulder, “Don't fight and please, Epel don't eat the mask.”

Epel gave a noncommittal noise, already swiping a finger across his face. Don't eat the mask; don't make a face mask from bananas and avocados…

Silence passes over the room, Yuu clicking through their laptop to make sure their movie of choice was fully loaded and prepped for viewing. Epel would glance over to his friend before looking away. Before long he finally huffed and angled his body to face them directly.

“So…yur bleeding out your butt-”

“Not my ass, but go on.”

Epel scoffed rolling over to his back to stare at the ceiling, “So yur bleeding…and that's…normal?”

“Ye.”

“...” Epel's face pinches, his mind connecting the information yet still refusing it, “That sounds awful.”

Yuu chuckled, moving to lay down beside on their stomach, “Yeah, it fucking sucks. I wanna like…curl up and cry but also fist fight the sun.”

“It sounds like a curse. Like a really fucked up ole fae curse that they'd do to a cheater or somethin’. Make'em just leak blood for days…”

“...” Yuu's smile widened, “Could you imagine?” At Epel's confused expression they continued, “If you could, like…learn to cast this as a curse, who would you cast it on?”

“...” Epel hummed, brows creasing before he snapped his fingers, “Crewel.”

“Oh my god? WHY!?”

Epel giggled, “Ah mean, if it'll be anythin’ like yurs, we'd get a week off from lessons because he'd rather be in a ditch somewhere.”

Yuu snorted, “Or, he'd keep coming to classes and take his blood rage out on us.”

“Damn…true…”He nudges Yuu with his knee, raising an eyebrow, “Who would you curse?”

“...I mean if we're being correct, I would have started to sync up with the vaginas I spend the most time with. So…that'd actually be you and Vil.”

“No.”

“Yes. Could you imagine? All three of us synced up and trying to stay alive?”

“Ah would actually take ma’self out. The very idea of blood leakin’ outta me for days is so fuckin’ distressin’. But pair that with you and Vil? Ah couldn't survive…”

Yuu snorts, rolling their eyes and turning back to the laptop, “Weak bitch.”

Epel swings his arm to punch against Yuu's thigh again, “If ya could pick though, who'd it be?”

“Oh, Leona.”

Epel had to set up as he gagged, his laugh choking him, “Why!?”

“He already acts like he's got PMS. I wanna see if he just, like…slips into a coma-stop punching me!”

They laughed and giggled, shoving and smacking each other as they chose more of their friends they would ‘curse’.

Rook had appeared midway through Epel and Yuu recreating a WWE smackdown match. His blunt bangs pulled from his face by a sparkly fuzzy scrunchie.

“Ah! Such grace, such brutality. A duality of kin by spirit than blood. Marvelous, 100 points!”

Yuu spoke calmly, keeping Epel in a full nelson while the other first-year swore under his breath and squirmed, “Oh, hey Rook, did you need something?”

“Oui, mon petite amor. I wished to show you a new skill to aid you in this trying time. I will need you to release Monsieur Pommette to do so…”

Sighing, Yuu released Epel from their grasp and let him breath, “Did you leave Vil in my kitchen? With my poor defenseless seasonings?”

Rook's only reply was to pat Yuu on the head and sit beside them, “May I touch your body mon petite?”

“Rook, I'm begging you to learn how to speak to people in, like…some semblance of the average human being.”

Rook smiles, holding his hands out in silent command to place their body in his grasp.

Yuu sighs, elbowing a grumbling Epel beside them, “Can you make sure Vil doesn't actually throw out my seasonings he deems ‘unnecessary'?”

Epel grumbles a bit more but stands to walk into the kitchen. Once the other first-year was gone, Yuu placed both of their hands into Rook's waiting ones, “Okay. What are you showing me?”

Humming, Rook looked over their hands, his thumbs gently pressing into their palms periodically, “Is Acupuncture a practice in your world?”

“Yeah; it's the Eastern practice where you use needles on pressure points. Never had it done though, the idea of needles in my face was freaky.”

“Tres bien! It's similar then. I have always wondered if your body carried the same pressure points as ours, though I wasn't sure we were close enough to test such a theory. Be it physically or relationship wise.”

Rook grabs one of Yuu's hands in both of his own; one to cradle Yuu's palm gently, and the other making firm small circles in the place between their thumb and pointer finger.”

“Yeah…40 year marriage or not, I would not trust you near me with a pack of needles…”

Rook chuckles, fingers not stopping as they massage the point, “Luckily for me, these methods do not require needles. Though I do hope you will let me try one day.”

“Fuck no. You and needles are not something I wanna be in a room with- Oh…oh…”

“Ah! Is it taking effect?”

Yuu touched their head, blinking in mild astonishment, “My headache isn't so bad anymore.”

“And this is one of the few points I shall teach you! It is called Large Intestine 6, it can alleviate headaches. Though do be careful, you can bruise yourself with these methods.”

Rook then spent the next few minutes showing Yuu the functions of various pressure points to ease their period symptoms. He even gleefully showed them other points where pressure would cause pain and momentary complete bodily paralysis.

Rook hummed as he gently thumbed the skin on the back of Yuu's neck, “For maximum effect I would recommend applying pressure via an elbow jab.”

“I can't wait to stun Vil's arm the next time he tries to pull my ear while scolding me.”

“Please, do not. He will know I taught you this and back hand both of us into next week.”

Vil spoke as he and Epel walked back into the room, each carrying loaded trays, “Taught them what?”

“How to properly hold their head in a sitting position, mon roi!” Rook’s hand moved gently, firmly grasping the base of Yuu's skull and puppeteering their head to a more correct posture, “There we go! Now she may sit with her spine straight.”

Vil hummed, setting the large tray of snacks in front of the nest and looking Yuu over with a critical eye, “...I suppose it will have to do for now. This is a ‘Relax Day’ after all…”

Epel handed Yuu and Rook tall glasses of fruit smoothie, sitting beside Yuu and looking over their laptop, “Is the movie ready?”

Yuu took a moment, simply enjoying the taste of strawberries, mangos, and the hinted kick of tart orange juice. With a few clicks, the TV came to life mirroring their laptop, “Yep! Epel the master remote should have a button for the lights.”

Soon, everyone was cozy in the nest, snacks close and each with a chilled beverage.

Vil raised an eyebrow, already judging the movie by the overly cartoony opening, “And this movie is for…children?”

“Ye…I think…it was an 80’s movie. So ‘For Kids’ normally just meant no titties or swear words.”

Epel’s face quickly soured, glaring at Yuu, “Ah swear ta the Seven, if this anything like that Oz movie-”

Yuu giggled, shushing Epel, “Making you guys watch 'Return to Oz*’ was for my own sick pleasure. This won't be like that I promise.”

Rook sighed, “I should hope not. Monsieur Pommette could not sleep for days…”

Waving them off, Yuu kept their eyes glued to the screen as the movie’s opening twist was revealed, “Don't worry. ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit?’ is the perfect relax day movie.”

The Pomefiore boys all sat huddled around Yuu, eyes wide in terror as they watched the villain stalk closer and closer to the detective.

“When I killed ya brother! I talked! Just! Like! THIIIIIIIIIIIS!”

Vil whispered harshly to Yuu, mildly afraid to take his eyes off the screen, “This movie is for children?”

“Yeah. The 80’s were wild…”

*Lowkey I wanted to put The Wiz instead but I remembered that movie being delightful besides the single scene in the subway. Return to Oz, however, keeps getting purged from my memory every time I watch it for good reason.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #pomefiore

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sturniqlo · 6 months ago

Text

A BROKEN PROMISE- MATT STURN

summary: matt and y/n have been a long distance couple for five months ever since matt moved to LA with his brothers, the two grow distant and decide to part ways, promising to wait for each other. when he eventually moves back, he sees that she broke the promise

cw: break up, cursing, angst

an: when i thought about this idea my heart instantly ached this y/n is def not my favorite | lowercase intended | very short

masterlist

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

before

"hi matt, how's LA been so far?" y/n props her phone up on a perfume bottle as she paints her nails, looking up to see matt's face on her phone. "very good, although it's very hot here. how's home? have i missed anything?" this was the first time they had called, the last week had been very busy for them, matt with unpacking and settling into his new home, y/n with work. they would send quick messages whenever they had the chance. the time difference was their enemy.

"nothing much, nate got his new car and i got a raise at work." she shrugs, dragging the nail polish bristles up her nail. "that sound nice, has work been hard lately?" matt asks, staring at his girlfriend who's on his phone but, on the other side of the country. "don't get me started," she giggles looking up at her phone. "my boss, you know, usual sweetheart, has been a pain in the ass. we have more reservations than usual and she's been so- ugh!" she groans at the thought of it. "you? have you settled in yet? you'll have to send me a house tour, i love watching those." matt giggles, recalling all the times he's watching house tours on youtube with her. "the place is still a bit bare- nicks room is coming along but, mine and chris' not so much but, i will definitely film a house tour just for you, babe."

they stayed on the phone for three hours after that, catching up on everything and planning when she will go down and visit them. "it's almost one am here, i have work early in the morning. i'll try and call you tomorrow, yeah?" y/n walks into her bathroom, about to get ready for the night. "oh, i forgot about the time difference, but totally, i'm sure i'll pick up." he sighs, not wanting to hang up. "okay, i love you. and i miss you so much." she pouts. "i love you more and miss you very very much."

it had officially been three months since matt moved to LA temporarily. the communication between the couple had been the most active this month. usually they only called about two to three times a week but, this month they'd call four to five days out of the week two to three times each day. everything was great, they thought, they talked more, texted more, and had dinner dates over facetime. "what'd you order for dinner?" y/n asked matt who was sitting at his desk. "my usual, taco bell. you?" he asks back, turning the volume up on his laptop to hear her better. "mexican, from the place by my house." she fixed her laptop on her bed feeling upset to break the news to matt. "i have some bad news, babe." she frowns.

"what's wrong?" he furrows his eyebrows, scooting his chair closer to the desk. "i won't be able to fly down in two weeks, when i tried to ask for the week off my boss said we're really booked and busy with reservations and events so she won't be able to give me the week. and i tried to convince her but, she gave me a firm no." she stares at matt's upset face. "really?" he said sadly, he had already planned a whole itinerary for the week she'd be here. "i'm sorry, i know we were looking forward to that week." she chipped her painted nails. as much as the sad tension was there, they tried to ignore it and enjoy their online dinner date.

two months had gone by and calls went from three times a day to two times a day to one time a day and to once a week. they were back where they started. y/n had been pretty upset at it. the one time she wasn't as busy with work, matt's schedule was booked. he was either filming with his brothers, filming a collab, at meetings or hanging out with friends. she wanted to call it off. matt had also realized the distance between them. he realized how he wasn't putting her first anymore and was busy on other things. he decided to call it off on their weekly call. "can i talk to you about something?" he turned the call off speaker and fixed the phone to his ear. "sure." she said. "i- as much as i hate to say this but- i don't think this is working anymore. the distance- it's, it's become a problem. i mean we rarely talk on the phone anymore. the most we text is when we wake up and don't speak until we're getting ready for bed." he sighs.

she's quiet for a few moments. she saw it coming. she had also thought about calling it quits but, never had the urge to. "matt," she sighs, sitting up from her bed. "i want to say that i haven't thought about breaking up but, truth be told i have thought about it. everything you said is right. we never talk anymore it's like we only talk when we remember we have each other, almost like- almost like it's forced at this point." she tries to fight back her tears. it's quiet between them. "so this is it?" he break the silence. "i guess so, for the time being." she says quietly, sniffing. "promise that we'll wait for each other? i- i'll make it up to you once i move back home, okay?" his voice cracks a bit. "okay, okay, yeah. i promise." y/n tries her best to think of it as a positive. "don't be stranger, matt."

after

the first time matt saw her with him was when he clicked on one of their mutual friends story on instagram. it was a the view of a party hosted by one of their other friends. when the camera panned to the right, there she was. holding a cup in her hand, laughing and smiling at whatever he was telling her. at first matt didn't think anything of it. she was allowed to have friends who were the opposite gender, as did he. plus, they have broken up for a couple of months at this point. yet, the reminder of the promise lingered at the back of his head.

the second time happened when nate, a friend of theirs, was at a party. over the months nate told matt how after the couple broke up she stopping hanging out with him and only saw her at parties or at the grocery store. however, at the party he was walking around and spotted y/n he was going to go greet her until he saw someone wrap their arms around her and place a kiss on her neck. he gasped, thinking about matt and how he has no knowledge of this. although it wasn't his business, he stayed quiet until he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

from matt

hey, what are you doing?

to matt

just got to a party, you?

from matt

nothing much, sitting at home

sounds like fun! is she there?

to matt

yeah i just saw her

from matt

is she with anyone?

nate sighs leaning against a wall, not wanting to break the news.

to matt

yes..

from matt

matt was heartbroken to say the least. what about the promise? he thought. did she not care about him anymore? or is she just hanging out with someone as a friend? he tried to get rid of the thought and tried to think positively. she's waiting for me. he thought. only a couple more months and he's moving back home. just six more long months.

the triplets couldn't find a time to visit home. their schedules was jam packed, it was meeting after meeting, video after video and collab after collab. he was tired, both physically and mentally. luckily they only had two more months in LA. he paced around his room, should he or should he not? the question lingered. i should. he made up his mind. matt picked up his phone and looked for the contact who was metaphorically collecting dust in his contact list. pressing on y/n name, he brought the phone up to his ear and waited for her to pick up.

"sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable." he hears the sound of the automated machine instead of the familiar soft voice. matt's heart drops. maybe her phone got stolen and she had to get a new number? he tries one more time. maybe it was a glitch. he clicked it again. "sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable." he's yet met with the same automated voice. "what the hell?" he dropped his phone onto his bed and ran his hands along his face.

the two months had went by faster than a blink of an eye. they did one more walkthrough of their empty LA home before their uber arrived. all of their furniture was fairly new so they decided to donate it all. they shipped most of their valuables and clothes back home and were going to be flying with only a suitcase and bookbag. they couldn't be more excited about going back home. when the lease was about to end, they decided that LA was not the place for them and wholeheartedly agreed to move back home to boston.

at home, the one person he thought about was y/n. would she be excited to see him? of course she will. they promised that they'd wait until matt got back. he couldn't wait to make it up to her for the time he had been gone.

tonight, the triplets and nate were going to a party hosted by one of their high school friend. matt had a feeling y/n would be there and he couldn't wait to see her. he put on the flannel that she really loved and the cologne that she had bought for him and had it shipped to his LA home. entering the party, nick, chris and nate went to mingle around while matt stayed back in hopes of seeing y/n. as he walked towards the back of the house, he saw her. once he spotted her and made his way to her, someone stepped in and kissed her. matt stopped in his tracks and felt everything around his stop.

when they pulled back from each other. y/n felt someone staring at her and she looked around and saw matt standing a few feet away from her, a heartbroken look on his face. he was wearing her favorite flannel. "i'll be back." she told her now boyfriend. matt quickly turned around and headed straight to the front door, y/n in heels couldn't keep up. she saw him exit through the front door and sped up a bit, outside, the air was chilly. she she wrapped her arms around herself. "matt, wait!" she saw him walking toward the sidewalk.

she caught up to his and grabbed him arm. "i- i can explain, matt." he rolled his eyes. "i saw enough, i don't think you have to explain yourself. you broke our promise." he tried to walk away but she grabbed his arm again. "matt, what the fuck was i supposed to do? you were across the fucking country! i couldn't put my life on hold and wait for someone, i had to move on." she argued. "but you promised, y/n! you fucking promised. i tried not to believe that you would do something like this the first time i saw you with him on someone's story!"

"you never called after we broke up! you never texted!" matt scoffed. "you changed your number, don't you remember? i tried to call you months back but the call didn't go through." she furrows her eyebrows. "i didn't change my number." she says. "well then you blocked me- it's whatever, you've clearly moved on, i don't think you'll need my number anymore." he walks away and y/n doesn't have the energy to grab him again.

"matt." her voice quivers, on the verge of tears. "you broke the promise, y/n. i- i cant anymore. i'm sorry." he turns to look at her before walking away.

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w2soneshots · 8 months ago

Text

I’ve missed you -W2S

words: 0.9k+

warnings: none.

summary: Harry comes to pick you up from the airport after a week with your family in Norway. Then he brings you to dinner with his friends to meet them for the first time.

notes: this fic was based off of this request!🙂 I hope you enjoy my lovelies💗🫶🏼

I met Harry four months ago. We immediately hit it off and have been together ever since. We're still in the early stages of our relationship, so I'm yet to meet his friends. Last week I left to go and see my family in Norway, which is where I've lived my entire life until last year when I moved to London. Me and Harry have spent most of our time together these past few months so it was really weird not seeing him for a week. Though we face-timed every night and I was constantly texting and sending pictures to him.

Today I'm flying home. My dad dropped me off at the airport and with one final hug we said goodbye. I checked in, went through security and was soon sat on the plane waiting to take off. I made sure to text Harry that I'd be landing in around two hours, since he insisted on picking me up. I listen to music and read for the entire time, so before I knew it we were landing.

I walked out of the huge glass doors and stopped as I looked around. When my eyes caught Harry's my heart rate began to speed up. A smile spread across my face and he quickly made his way towards me. "Hey!" He pulled me into a warm embrace. I wrapped my arms around his torso. "Hi." As we pulled away he smiled at me, then pulled a white bouquet of flowers from behind his back. "Oh my god Harry, they're beautiful!" I beamed. "I've missed you." He placed them in my hands. "I've missed you too, and thank you." I pushed myself onto my tip toes to peck his lips.

Once we got in the uber Harry had booked (since he absolutely hates driving, especially in London) we headed back to his apartment. When we got inside I took a shower to wash the plane smell off of me. Then I got ready because tonight I'm going to dinner with Harry, Ethan, Faith, Simon, Talia, Josh, Freya, JJ and Tobi. Harry has already given me the rundown on their names, what they look like and who's with who. I'm really excited to meet them and take the next big step in mine and Harry's relationship.

After making myself look presentable with, makeup and a nice outfit I left the bathroom. Harry sat on the bed and immediately looked up at me. "How do I look?" I asked jokingly with a twirl. He stood up "you look incredible." He complimented. "Why thank you." I smiled.

My leg shook slightly and I picked at my nails as we pulled up to the restaurant. Harry noticed this so placed his hand on my knee. "Everything's gonna be fine they'll love you." He soothed. I nodded then took a deep breath, intertwining my hand with his.

When we got inside we were quickly taken to our table where almost all of Harry friends sat. I politely smiled and immediately the girls stood up to greet me. "I'm Faith. It's so nice to finally meet you!" She pulled me into a quick hug. I introduced myself to the rest of the girls then looked back over to Harry who was already fondly observing at me. Unbeknownst to the both of us Ethan and Josh were nudging each other and whispering about how 'in love' Harry looked.

Once we sat down (me between Harry and Talia) we ordered some drinks. "So y/n how did you n bog meet?" Tobi asked. Harry had already forwarded me about his "stupid nickname" as he'd put it. "Um, well we bumped into each other and he knocked my bag out of my hand. Then we knocked heads as we both bent down to get it." I laughed lightly as I remembered the awkward interaction. "That sounds like it came straight out of a movie." Freya added.

Harry's hand sat comfortably on the top of my thigh as we chatted. I was soon fully comfortable around everyone and was having a great chat with Faith about her and Ethan's daughter, Olive. When our food arrived, all of the girls (including me) told the boys to "wait!" while we took a picture. The boys all groaned and then burst out laughing at the synchronised annoyance.

While we waited for dessert everyone was having their own little conversations. "So what's toffee pudding in Norwegian?" He asked. I giggled "it's just toffee pudding." "Oh. Well then what's," he took his time to think "thank you?" "Takk skal du ha." I replied. "Takk skal du ha." He repeated. I nodded "ye pretty much." I lifted myself from my seat "I'm just gonna go to the toilet, I'll be two seconds." Harry smiled "ok see you in a minute."

Harry's pov:

I watched as y/n walked away then turned back to the table to see the boys giggling. "What?" I asked, with my brows furrowed. "Harry you're so whipped." Simon stated. My face softened "well I really like her so... I don't mind." "I'm really happy for you bog, she seems really lovely." JJ said sincerely. "Ye it's nice to see you finally with someone." Ethan added. "It's not been that long has it?!" I asked, referring to Ethan's "finally". He chuckled "It's been like four years mate."

Your pov:

I returned to the table a few minutes later and sat back down next to Harry. "Did I miss anything important?" I asked. "Not really, the boys were just reminding me how long it's been since I've been with someone." I raised my brows "oh, why?" "Because they're glad I've finally found someone amazing as you." He whispered into my ear. A pink blush spread across my cheeks. Harry chuckled then placed his hand back onto my thigh.

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vivwritesfics · 10 months ago

Text

Jester Stole His Thorny Crown

Chapter Six

He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.

Mafia!Au

1.2K

Series Masterlist

Oldies night was her favourite. She had her selection of songs in her head, her setlist for the night, going through them as she made her way to the club.

But, when she pushed her way inside, her piano wasn't where she had left it. It was pushed to one side of the stage while other instruments and musical equipment were set up in the centre. "What the fuck," she whispered under her breath.

Moving around the tables, she made her way to the back office. She ignored the urge to shout at the people setting up their instruments as she walked past.

"Y/N." Charles was grinning at her from behind Arthurs desk as she walked into the room. But she ignored them, searching through the papers on the desk for the schedule. "I spoke to Arthur and it took some convincing but-"

"What the fuck?" She cried once she found the schedule. Her normal seven day working week had been changed to just four. Slowly, she raised her head to face him. "Did you speak to Arthur?" She asked quickly, dropping the normal fear that Charles was used to hearing. "Is this because of you?"

He nodded, not quite understanding that she was pissed. "Got Arthur to book someone else for tonight," he said. "I thought I could take you out to dinner, say thank you for the piano lessons."

This was the side of Charles she had been wanting to see ever since she first met him. This side of Charles wasn't terrifying. He was happy and relaxed, and she hated him.

Almost immediately, panic set up. "How the hell am I gonna make rent this month?" Her voice came out as a squeak in panic. She gripped the strap of her bag as she looked at who was replacing her.

She didn't recognise any of the names. Who the hell was Disco Fever Three? "I... do you know where I could find Arthur?" She asked.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, finally getting the hint.

She shook her head as she walked out of the office. "Where are you going?" Charles called after her. "I thought we could get dinner."

But she kept walking. "I... I have things I need to do."

"Y/N!" He shouted, his voice just a little deeper this time. But she kept going, kept walking away from him. And it was making Charles mad. "Y/N!" He stood from the desk and strode towards her.

In four large steps he had reached her. He reached his hand out, grasping her arm. "Go out to dinner with me," he said, but it didn't come out friendly. Not in the slightest. The way he was looking at her, it had her shivering.

"Are you threatening me, Mr Leclerc?"

The grin that overtook his expression was somewhat sinister and his grip grew tighter. "Not threatening, chérie. Just inviting."

She looked away from him, lowered her gaze as she nodded. "Perfect," Charles said. He shut the office door and led the way out to his car.

The restaurant fell hushed when Charles strode in with her on his arm. Suddenly, every patron was nervous. The waitress was sweating as she led them to their seats.

Desperately she wanted to apologise to the poor waitress, but she couldn't. Another waitress came over and put bread and water on their table, giving them each a menu.

She didn't look at the menu. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. Even as she stared, she couldn't get up the courage to say what she really wanted to, to ask why he had brought her there. Part of her didn't want to know, wanted to eat and get out of there. She did have to get on and look for a second job, after all.

When the waitress came back over, Charles ordered for her. A fancy cocktail and food she hadn't quite caught the name of. No matter what it was, whether she liked it or nit, she'd eat every bite.

"I can't believe Arthur hasn't given you a day off before today," he said as they waited on their drinks to be brought over. Neither of them could see just how stressed the staff were as they tried to get their orders to them as quickly as possible.

She couldn't help the scoff that left her lips, immediately covering her mouth with her hand to hide it. But Charles had caught it, levelling her with a somewhat threatening look. "What," he barked.

She sank in on herself. Fuck, she really hoped that he hadn't seen. "Nothing," she said and cleared her throat. "It's just, Arthur hasn't given me a day off because I don’t want one. He pays me as much as he can, and that barely makes up my rent." She sighed through her nose as her drink was placed in front of her. She wasn't going to admit it, but the drink was needed.

Charles let out a sigh. "And if you can't make rent you'll have to "borrow" from us, which would put you in an even worse position," he said and she nodded.

He knew what he had to do. But Charles wouldn't apologise for taking her much needed performances away from her. He'd fix it as best he could, but never admit he was wrong.

A restaurant wasn't the right setting, that was for sure. Charles maintained his tough, terrifying persona until they left the restaurant, climbing back into his car.

"Where do you live?" He asked as he fiddled with the radio.

She shook her head. "You can just take me back to the lounge, if you'd like," she said, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Don't be stupid,"he immediately replied. "Give me the address, now."

That was all she needed before she let her street and building name fall from her lips. She didn’t want Charles to know where she lived, but now she didn’t have much of a choice.

What she didn’t know as she climbed out of the car, was that Charles had an idea. There was a reason why he had asked for her address, reason why he wanted to know where she lived.

If she couldn’t pay rent, he was going to do something about it.

As soon as she was inside, Charles drove back to the lounge. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the evening. It didn’t go the way he had imagined, not in the slightest. He hadn’t wanted to threaten her, but his instincts had taken over. If she had just gone along with it, they could have had a nice evening. But now, well, the entire evening left a sour taste in his mouth.

He parked up outside of the club and climbed out of the car. Music could be heard coming from inside, but it wasn’t as good as she was on the piano. He walked in and strode past the full tables, heading towards the back office.

“Did you tell her?” Asked Arthur as he strode in. The younger Leclerc had waited until Charles had gotten her out of the club to start working.

Charles sat in the seat opposite him. He scowled at his brother. “You’re a coward.”

“You’re the one who wanted her hours cut. And I’m guessing she hates you for it.”

Charles deflated in his chair. “How do I fix it?”

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 11 months ago

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Night Moves Timestamp: Moving Day

Request: Hmmmm what about Night Moves? Or how soon before she asked Dean to move in with her?

Night Moves Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 600ish

Warnings: language

__________

“What are you doing?” asked Benny with a laugh, leaning against the back of his truck as you grunted. “I thought we told you to let us boys handle the heavy stuff.”

“I can help,” you said, reaching forward for the box again until Benny threw an arm around your waist and picked you up. “Benjamin!”

“Oh, somebody’s in trouble,” teased Jess, laughing as Benny carried you through the front door and out through the sliding door to the deck. “Not sure which one of you though.”

“Him!” you said with a growl.

“Deano will kill me if his girl gets hurt trying to lift that heavy old box,” said Benny.

“Oh my...why doesn’t Dean have scrawny friends!” you said, squirming a little as Benny carried you into the backyard, plopping you down at the shed where Dean was putting a few things away.

“Delivery service for Mr. Winchester,” said Benny, Dean poking his head out with a smile. “Watch this one.”

“I thought you were taking a break,” said Dean, crossing his arms.

“We’re almost done,” you said, swinging your arms around, spinning back around. You started to walk back around the house, Dean humming behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean wearing a smirk. You made a dash for it and got to the front yard before he was picking you up, laughing as he spun you around a few times. He carried you around around the cars to see Benny and Sam carrying the box you tried to get.

“Oh, you tried to get that one? That’s got like a crap ton of books in it, sweetheart,” he said. “Put it in the office guys!”

“We better be getting pizza and beer after this one!” called back Sam.

“You moved like four boxes,” said Dean with scoff.

“We moved your entire apartment!” said Sam.

“Pfft,” said Dean, waving him off. Jess poked her head outside, laughing at you again.

“Oh, now I definitely know you were the trouble maker,” she said. Dean set you down, giving you a smirk as you grabbed her hand and pulled her inside in your house. “So...how long before I get to be maid of honor?”

“We moved in together. We’re not engaged...yet,” you said.

“Uh huh,” she said. “I give him two more weeks.”

“He moved in because his lease is up and Benny’s place is too small,” you said, cocking your head at her.

“No, he moved in because he’s in love with you. A months tops before he proposes,” she said.

“Would you go figure out how much pizza and stuff I need to order, please?” you asked. She hummed as you headed outside again, Dean sitting on the trunk of Baby, staring out at the street. “Dean? You alright?”

“Is this too fast?” he asked, patting the space beside him for you. You climbed up, Dean taking your hand in his. “We’ve only been dating a few months and the guys today have made so many jokes and I know they’re just jokes but-”

“Do you love me?” you asked. Dean nodded. “Well I love you too. I don’t see anything wrong with two people that love each other wanting to live together.”

“But even the I love you’s came so fast and that’s not normal and-”

“And we met on a hookup with some backseat sex. Our relationship has never been normal and I don’t think we should judge ourselves based on what other people think,” you said. “If we’re good, we’re good.”

“I am looking forward to living with you,” he said, squeezing your hand.

“Me too,” you said.

________

#dean #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x cas #winchester #dean fluff #dean supernatural #dean spn #dean winchester x

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hooked-on-elvis · 23 days ago

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APPRECIATION POST

ELVIS AND THE BLUE MOON BOYS: As told by Scotty Moore.

On a December 27th SCOTTY MOORE was born.🎈 I'm a little late but I wanted to celebrate this special month and date still in 2024. So here's a little summarized story, from Scotty's POV, of how it all started to happen in the music industry for him, Elvis, Bill and D.J,, our dear Blue Moon Boys. The story of how Rock and Roll music was born when initially three young men formed a trio in mid-1954.

I must begin with an observation: "That's Alright, Elvis: The Untold Story of Elvis' First Guitarist and Manager, Scotty Moore" by Scotty Moore as told to James L. Dickerson, from where this excerpt above comes from, is a GREAT book! A definite Elvis and Rock and Roll music fans "must read." I'm yet to read Bill Black's story in "Don't Be Cruel, Elvis: The Bill Black Story" by Paul F. Belard and DJ Fontana's memoir book ("D.J. Fontana remembers Elvis")... but I'm taking my time enjoying Scotty's book for now. It's full of details and I'm impressed with each little part of his (their) story in those pages. People are not usually that interested in musicians as much as in the lead singers, specially if they're not musicians themselves, like me - but Scotty Moore had a very interesting life, besides the book is so well written, honest and fun you can't seriously feel it's even close to being uninteresting. Reading Scotty's book I never had the feeling of wanting to skip the story to the part where Elvis comes into the picture because Scotty's own story is that incredible! I mean it. Anyhow, I'm just sharing how much reading Scotty Moore's story was so important to me and made me feel a deeper appreciation for the Rock and Roll history as a whole and also it helped me better understanding Elvis as a person and how he came to be the legendary artist he became. I didn't finish the book yet, but I can tell from where I am in my readin that having Scotty, Bill and D.J.'s support, guidance and friendship was crucial to the rise of Elvis Presley as we know.

For the record, it actually started with Scotty Moore chasing his dream, cutting a record at the Memphis Recording Service and being asked to audition Presley afterwards. To think Scotty wasn't even supposed to be born! Haha... we'll get to that.

PICTURES: Three-months and five-years old Scotty Moore.

Winfield Scott Moore III (December 27, 1931 – June 28, 2016) was fond of music since he was a child. One of Scotty's bigger brothers gave him his guitar as a farewell gift when Scotty was five years old and his brother, Ralph, the youngest son in the family prior to Scotty being born, joined the US Navy (picture 1 is Scotty wearing a Navy uniform his brother sent him while he was serving). Scotty Moore had four siblings, three boys and a girl. In ascending order of age, they were Carney, Mildred Lee, Edwin and Ralph. His sister, Mildred, sadly passed away when she was only fourteen years old and Scotty wasn't even born yet. It was a hard time for the Moore family, but that sad event in their story was the reason why Scotty existed. Scotty's father, Winfield Scott Moore, found relief for his grief in music, playing fiddle and the banjo, instruments he taught himself how to play. Later he would teach his children how to play guitar. His mother, on the other hand, never got over losing her only girl. Scotty's brothers were born respectively in 1911, 1913, 1915 and 1917. Mildred, born in 1913, died in 1928. A couple of years later, Mattie Moore, Scotty's mother was already thirty-eight years old while her husband and Scotty's father was forty. Regardless of their age, she was so inconsolable over losing her only girl child, they decided to have another baby, hoping for another girl. That's when Scotty was born, in 1931. Scotty laughed when sharing this story. His parents never treated him as if he was a mistake, always showed him the same love they had for all the other children. However, being born with a huge gap regarding the other children in the family (Scotty's brothers were already 20, 16 and 14 when he was born), was not that easy. He felt left out simply because his siblings were in different moments in life than he was. Growing up as the only children in their household possibly contributed a lot to Scotty's relatively reserved, cautious, sober but highly creative personality.

The Moore family — L-R: Edwin, Scott (father), Carney, Ralph, Mattie (mother) and Scotty.

Given the circumstances surrounding his family, as the Great Depression hit hard, Scotty and his brothers grew up watching his father playing music in square dances and parties to help supplement the family's income. Eventually all the boys were involved with music, joining their father in a family band and playing together to help making ends meet. Like them, Scotty grew to love music but found in his guitar more than a way to unwind or to make a few bucks, he actually got serious over playing music and eventually went to dedicating most of his free time to improve his guitar skills.

"Scotty wanted to go fast. He wanted to play music you could dance to. It was as if there was some yet undefined, an inner rhythm simmering inside him, something wild and raw trying to break out into the light of day."

Excerpt "That's Alright, Elvis: The Untold Story of Elvis' First Guitarist and Manager, Scotty Moore" by Scotty Moore as told to James L. Dickerson.

Growing up, Scotty did not find his vocation in school. In his words, he "didn't dig" the school, being an average student. He dropped school for one year after completing the ninth grade, dedicating his time working in the family's farm, but not enjoying the work decided to go back to finish his high school education. In January 1948 Scotty followed his older siblings' steps and decided to enlist in the U.S. Navy. He was only sixteen at the time — the minimum age to join the Navy was eighteen or seventeen, with parent's permission. Therefore, Scotty had to lie about his age. He was lucky his father was supportive. According to Scotty, that was the only time his father lied, to help him. At the age of sixteen, Scotty Moore was a Navy man, still he never left his guitar aside. During his time in the Navy, Scotty formed different bands. One of them even had a fifteen-minute radio show on radio station KPRO in Bremington, Washington, and also played at clubs and parties off-base.

"When he played song the way they were written, they somehow came out different - faster, more energetic. On the outside, Scotty was cool and collected, and shy country boy. On the inside, he was bubbling with emotion. Music was his release. No one had ever heard music the way Scotty heard it; no one had ever felt it the same way."

Excerpt "That's Alright, Elvis: The Untold Story of Elvis' First Guitarist and Manager, Scotty Moore" by Scotty Moore as told to James L. Dickerson.

PICTURE: (1) The USS LST-855, the first ship on which Scotty served in China, and its officers. (2) Later, Scotty served in Japan and Korea on board of the aircraft carrier USS Valley Forge. Picture shows Scotty (left) with musician friends on board of the USS Valley Forge.

Scotty had to become a man fast, the Navy training and his time serving were enough to achieve that. Still, when he returned home to Tennessee after being discharged from the Navy on December 4, 1952, with a China and a Korean service medals in his collections, he was still headset to make music his life and main source of income. By 1954, while he worked at common jobs to make a living, after all at the tender age of 23 he was already a former Navy man, married (then to Bobbie Walls, his second wife) and had two children from his first marriage (to Mary Durkee) he needed to support — Linda Moore, born in December 16, 1950 and Donald Moore, born also on December 16, but in 1952 — Scotty had been trying to gather musicians to play in his free time around Memphis and its neighborhood. Those musicians groups had many different formations, none in particular and no official band for a while. it was upsetting since Scotty took playing music seriously. He looked for musicians as passionate and dedicated to music as himself to form a band and, eventually, he would find those musicians who would encourage him to pursue his dream even further.

Scotty's first real band, a band he formed (under contract and all, quite unusual at that time for small bands) and to which he was the manager to, was the Starlite Wranglers — Lead vocals by Doug Poindexter, Bill Black on bass, Millard Yow on steel guitar, Clyde Rush on guitar and Thomas Sealy on fiddle. Just like Elvis but prior to him, Scotty did cut a record with his band at Sam Phillips' Memphis Recording Service facilities (Sun Records) in Memphis, Tennessee, in May 1954. That's how he got acquainted with Sam. The songs they recorded were "My Kind Of Carryin' On" (A-Side) and "Now She Cares No More For Me" (B-Side).

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However, the Starlite Wranglers did not succeed as Scotty hoped for. Still, he continue to perform live in small gigs with his band, concerts he would book himself. At that moment, it was enough satisfying that he had a band with a real record out but he wanted better, he needed more. Scotty continued to visit Sam Phillips at Sun Records, hoping the man could get him a better chance to succeed in the business next time around. One summer day in 1954, Scotty was asked by Sam Phillips to audition Elvis Presley for him, to find out if Elvis was worth his time, money and records producing skills, following the suggestion of Sun Record's secretary Marion Keisker, who had been chatting with Elvis back and forth since he got into the studio in July 1953 looking to cut a private record as a gift to his mom, as he said. Marion was enchanted by the young's man politeness and lovable personality but also with his persistence in making music his real job. Scotty, on the other hand, knew nothing about Elvis, had never seen him until that point. He decided to invite Bill Black to help him out with the audition at Scotty's home (983 Belz street, North Memphis), a house that shared the same neighborhood as Bill Black and his wife's home. It happened on a Sunday afternoon: July 4, 1954. That same day, after the audition, Scotty gave his approval to Sam Phillips and they all got together at Sun Records. That's when "That's All Right, Mama" a 1946 blues song originally recorded by Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup was covered... but at Elvis, Scotty and Bill's brand new style.

PICTURES: 1. Scotty Moore's home in 1954, at 983 Belz street in Memphis, TN. The street was renamed and now (as far as I know) it's the Eldridge street, North Memphis. 2. Bill Black's home at the same neighborhood (967 Belz street). Moore and Black were neighbors in mid-1954 after the Blacks (Bill and his wife Evelyn) told Scotty and his then wife, Bobbie, about a home available for rent there. They first auditioned Elvis in Scotty's home on July 4, 1954, according to Scotty "Elvis arrived shortly after noon." ••• Credits (pictures): Mike Freeman on Flickr, pictures taken on February 21, 2011. Additional info: Youtuber Billy from "Spa Guy" channel visited the address. Here's a video uploaded in 2017 that shows the sites: "Elvis Presley Audition Scotty & Bill."

Scotty had a long story with music of his own prior to Elvis coming into his life. He knew much more about the music industry than Elvis at that point when they met (mid-1954) and so did Bill Black, both already used to entertaining small audiences in honky tonks, which proved to be just what Elvis needed, jovial musicians with a passion for music as strong as his own, but people that could school him on the business.

The trio was a perfect match. Elvis' voice and the attention he got, the curious gazes from both youngsters and adults, interested not only in his voice but also in his flashy looks and unusual movements onstage, combined with Scotty's management skills and Bill's boldness to experiment with sounds and the great enthusiasm and energy he brought onstage, encouraging the rather shy young Elvis to let loose and show everyone his true self, was like the stars were finally aligned when those three met. When Elvis already had a deal with Sun Records and was finally a music artist as he dreamed of becoming, a member of the trio gathered by Sam Phillips to which Scotty Moore naturally took over the management responsibilities (in contract signed on July 12th, 1954 just a few days after Elvis' first audition with Bill and Scotty), due to his previous experience as a band manager. Initially, Scotty Moore was the only person actually booking gigs for them. The easiest way for Scotty to introduce his new band to the public was by incorporating the trio as "special guests" to the Starlite Wranglers shows. One of the sites they played at was the Bon Air Club, a bar at the outer rim of the city (Memphis) limits. That was before Elvis and The Moon Boys could even have a name, as it would be for a little while...

The group's name soon after would come. Taken from the B-side of "That's All Right, Mama", "Blue Moon of Kentucky," a Bill Monroe hit from 1946 that was recorded at Sun Records by Elvis and the boys just a couple of days afterwards, on July 6, 1954.

"With 'That's All Right, Mama,' Elvis took a blues song and sang it white. With 'Blue Moon of Kentucky' he did the opposite: he took a country song and gave it a bluesy spin."

Excerpt "That's Alright, Elvis: The Untold Story of Elvis' First Guitarist and Manager, Scotty Moore" by Scotty Moore as told to James L. Dickerson.

Already on the road, a little while afterwards the three added a drums player to the group, D.J. Fontana. They'd met and become friends during the Louisiana Hayride gigs, where D.J. was an in-house drummer on its Saturday night radio broadcast. Hidden behind the curtains onstage for a Louisiana Hayride performance of Elvis and the Blue Moon Boys, on October 16 1954 at the Municipal Auditorium in Shreveport, LA, D.J. had his first taste of what it was like to play with the boys. D.J. said about playing with them: "I figured the best thing for these guys was to stay out of the way, why would I clutter it up with cymbals? I'll just play the back beat and stay out of their way. They already had the good sound."

Scotty's management on Elvis' career didn't last long, tho. As a local musician with no connections in the business that could give the band a national break, Elvis' management contract was given to the deejay Bob Neal, a friend of Sam Phillips, and, not long afterwards, to Colonel Parker, who would take over Elvis' destiny from then on. Scotty shares in his book that the moment he talked to Parker he could feel Elvis and the Blue Moon Boys as they were was not far from becoming history. He wasn't wrong. but that's another story. The boys still had time to be featured in some of Elvis' most remarkable films released in the 50s, as "Jailhouse Rock" (1957), and definitely left an everlasting mark in music and a legacy that'll never be forgotten.

It was crazy being a musician for Elvis Presley, sure, but those three guys rocked and, IMHO, the Blue Moon Boys are the responsible ones for Elvis getting to be so demanding on hiring his musicians when he went back to performing live, in 1969, after the end of his Hollywood acting career and a hiatus from live performances that lasted seven years. At the beginnings, Scotty said there was a point [at the peak of the Elvis Mania in the 50s] where they couldn't hear any music during the concerts, so they had no option but to guide themselves by Elvis' moves onstage to get an idea of what part of the songs they were supposed to be playing. D.J. Fontana said he could hear the music but couldn't see the other musicians when he started playing with the boys. Elvis couldn't hear himself in most of the shows in the 50s, specially when things got bigger and wilder from 1956 on. Elvis was a perfectionist and he expected his musicians to follow his lead onstage. He would gesture to them whenever he wanted a change in the pace or sound... when to begin playing, when to pause, when to lower the music, when to come to an end. Elvis liked how intuitive, quick and responsive to him Scotty, Bill and D.J. were onstage, and that established his standard for what good live musicians were made of. Other than a perfectionist, Elvis was quite methodical character in work. He wasn't one to get easily convinced into changing his way of doing things if he liked the way they worked before. That's another great insight Scotty's book gives us. As the band was originally composed by three members, they didn't have a lot of instruments to fill the sound in records, so Sam Phillips decided to put Elvis' vocals at the same level as the instruments as he produced their records. Elvis liked how that sounded, so much so that he just hated when people (and I mean Colonel Parker) wanted to bring his vocals front and put the instruments more or less in the background, which happened in some of his later records. Colonel Parker reasoned with that saying Elvis' fans wanted to hear Elvis' voice, nothing more and Elvis didn't agree in the slightest. Other example of Elvis being resistant to changes in the music business was in 1969 at the American Sound studio, when the way of producing records was very different than in the 50s, being more common to tape the parts of the songs separately (backing vocals, instruments and leading vocals) because that gave a better opportunity to explore with the sounds to the music producers, allowing them to reach different sounds than recording songs with all of the musicians playing and singing together in the same room as in a live concert could give. Elvis had a little bit of a hard time accepting it. He loved how the 50s music was made. That, my friends, is how the Blue Moon Boys era and his experience recording at Sun Records was dear to the King's heart.

Well, not so full of dates and details but that's it. Just a summarized story of the beginnings of Rock and Roll music in the 50s. In Scotty's book it's all way more interesting, I guarantee you. The point is... those guys were a force of nature together. They were different, fresh, exciting... as a team. It was not only about the lead singer for a while. Scotty was quite shy and modest, yet very mature and serious over playing music, while Bill Black was fun and energetic onstage, giving Elvis the encouragement to act more wild and bold onstage too, little by little but quickly becoming as untamed as he could be, inspiring fear and frenzy into the "square" 50s society. EP learned a lot about how to be an exciting entertainer at that time.

Scotty, Bill and DJ... I will always appreciate your efforts and dedication to music. You were extremely important, taught and guided Elvis while he was finding his way in the industry. Your place in history is permanent, and so is our gratitude. Don't be fooled, my friends, we still feel the direct impact Elvis and the Blue Moon Boys caused in the entertainment industry. They rocked our world.

I specially will always appreciate Scotty Moore being stubborn on his passion with music. In a world where so many people are wannabes, so many try to make it and give up when things get rough and life happens, Scotty's vision and creativity helped change the course of music forever. It wasn't easy. Scotty, just like Elvis in a future time, lost his (first) wife - among other reasons - because of his music inclination. Scotty and Bill were a reflection of what Elvis was, if we take a closer look at their private lives. As I said before, they matched. It was meant to be.

Happy heavenly belated birthday, Scotty. I hope I did justice sharing a little bit of your story. I am an admirer of your work. Even not knowing the least about music technicalities, I know enough to be certain your guitar playing talent inspired many great musicians that would come after you. Your story is unique and so special. I feel blessed knowing a little bit of who you were and how you felt. God bless your soul, dear Scotty. ♥

#I love Elvis and the Blue Moon Boys beyond words #that's one of the most special parts of Elvis Presley's career to me #elvis presley #elvis history #elvis music #elvis and the blue moon boys #scotty moore #bill black #dj fontana #elvis #50s elvis #50s music #rock and roll history #rock and roll hall of fame #elvis the king #Spotify

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siriusblack-the-third · 5 months ago

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The Marauders: Pranks!

(in no particular order)

31st October, 1971 (First Year): the idiots somehow managed to get Peeves on their side and messed with the feast. Additives to the food had the entire castle running towards the bathrooms. The pipes were clogged for weeks afterwards. They served detention for the entirety of the duration.

31st January, 1973 (Second Year): Sirius tricked the gargoyle that protected the headmaster's study, got into his library and took several rare tomes. Dumbledore only realised when Sirius marched into his office two weeks later and dropped 14 books onto his table, announcing, "I'll be borrowing your books frequently, thank you." Just for the sheer talent of getting through his protective spells, Dumbledore allowed him to do so. However, detention of two weeks was handed out for breaking and entering.

23rd September, 1976 (Sixth Year): everyone woke up to see that the 26ft bronze dragon statue atop the fountain in the courtyard vanished in the middle of the night. No-one has seen it since. Nobody knows where it is. However, every time James or Sirius pass by the fountain, a small smirk curves over their lips. On another (completely unrelated, of course) note, James has an exquisite new pen, made of bronze and covered in a beautiful, intricate dragon motif.

13 December, 1974 (Fourth Year): the entire castle just. Floated up into the air without a warning. Exactly 77 feet off the ground for 77 minutes. It took all four of them three months to hand carve runes into the perimeter of the castle, and before that it took all of August for Sirius to come up with the right rune sequence that would stick a timer to the magic. They didn't serve detention, only because the rune sequence was such a stroke of genius— fourth year students barely knew how to use single runes in magic, let alone sequences long enough to cover a perimeter.

12th May, 1977 (Sixth Year): any time someone touched a goblet, said goblet would turn into purple butterflies. Very pretty, but very frustrating when all you wanted was a drink after a hot day. It turned out that they had mixed a transfigurative potion into the dishwashing water, and McGonagall made James write a paper about his invention. Technically, he earned his Potions mastery before he got his N.E.W.T. results.

4th February, 1976 (Fifth Year): a vicious storm cloud hung over Hogwarts starting from the 4th all the way till the full moon, making it rain sleet and hail non-stop, 24 hours a day. Everything came to a standstill, including Quidditch (James had to be persuaded for this one). Under the pretense of a month-long detention, McGonagall and Flitwick sat Sirius and James down and had them explain the thought process that went into the spellwork— weather magic not only required obscene amounts of raw power, but the steps as well were notoriously difficult to execute.

21st December, 1977 (Seventh Year): at exactly 23 minutes after eleven at night, the entire castle got wrapped up in huge, terrifying thorny branches. They crawled through the hallways, spilled through windows, blocked the doors and crept over the suits of armour. Huge roses— about two feet in diameter— bloomed all over the castle, dark haunting pink in colour. Waking up in the morning was quite a shock for people when they found out the vines had grown literally everywhere and taken over the dorm rooms. The inspiration was Disney's animated Sleeping Beauty, and Flitwick and Babbling both gave the Marauders twenty-five points each for the creativity. They did serve four months of detention, though.

WARNINGS

do NOT tag w*lfst*r or j*gul*s i mean it i will block you

I do not want anyone calling Sirius or James stupid

If you wanna argue with any of these, argue with the wall. These are headcanons, not reality. Chill.

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i-will-go-with-you-five · 2 months ago

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My Five Lore

Heyyyyy I thought it was finally time to make this post! I've been doing ZR for about nine months now and have been posting from the sidelines so I figured it was about time to introduce myself and Five. Just a little rundown on what my Five is like and her story and stuff. She's basically me, but with a couple things changed.

Apperance:

She’s on the shorter side- Sam is always putting his elbow on her shoulder to annoy her but she secretly loves it :) And pretty stocky but really strong. Simon challenged her to a lifting competition once and while he eventually won, she had him sweating and it was a close thing. She wears her hair in really long double Dutch braids, and has a round face with bright hazel green eyes and a big smile. She also wears really brightly colored gear, especially shoes, its a long-lasting joke with her and the other runners. She's unreasonably attached to axes and baseball caps, and is pretty much constantly wearing something Jody made her.

She has a couple of pretty faint nicks and slices on her hands, from before the apocalypse. She got those was first learning to butcher as a teenager. But since the outbreak, she's gotten a stab wound on her left shoulder, and permanent bruising on her shins. She's very susceptible to shin splints, but its the apocalypse, so it's not like she can properly rest and treat them.

UPDATE: she has new scars now from the ending of Season Two. They are Pretty Important.

[One day I will make the most beautiful drawing of her ever. One day.]

Background:

Five is basically me, with a couple things (appearance, where she lived, some family details, etc) changed. She lived in Northern Montana, a stone's throw away from Canada, and was doing college remotely while working on a farm that raised big animals, and took care of her nieces and nephews while her siblings were at work. That's why she's such a jack-of-all-trades, with book and street smarts, she had a very diverse range of skills due to how she grew up. I consider Five as an AU of myself if I had been thrust into the apocalypse, so personality and history-wise Five and I are similar, except for the trauma of the apocalypse, where she was on her own for almost four months after Z-Day, and hardened her a bit. Five's real name is Lydia, but not a single person besides her knows that.

Early Outbreak:

She went on a rare vacation with her best friend, Nina, and her best friend's family to London two days before the outbreak, in early November of 2023. The worst timing. One day she's on a plane, the next she's seeing Big Ben for the first time, and the day after that hundreds of people have turned, including Nina's family, and they're fleeing for their lives in the chaos.

The plan was for the two of them to try and contact Lydia's family and try to find a way to get home, but the phone lines were all down within a day. So they decided to just get out of the city. Nina got bitten when they were on the outskirts of London, after a week of them surviving together. Lydia stayed with her as she died. Nina begged Lydia to kill her zombie-self, but Lydia just couldn't do it- she fled instead. She decided to kill her name, Lydia, along with her friend's death. It was the only way she felt that she could mourn.

She was then on her own for about four months, and her circumstances really changed her. She'd always been a a happy and trusting person, but each person she tried to group up with ended up betraying her, in a multitude of ways. She threw up mental barriers and became pretty grim and trusted no one. She can talk, but only to people that she likes, and only to one or two people at a time. The bigger the crowd, the quieter she is. But when she gets in a place of being comfortable, she has a lot to say. But in those four months, she said less and less, to the point where some people assumed she was mute. She had to stifle who she was in order to survive, and it took a huge toll on her. The pain of her bottled-up emotions was buried deep.

She's a Christian, and the only thing that kept her going in the apocalypse was clinging onto Christ with all of her might, even if her faith had been shaken by what seemed like the end of the world. She just kept running and fighting for something greater than herself. Save the next person stuck in a building, even if they stole her supplies. Run supplies to different groups of people, even if they then beat her bloody and left her for the zombies. Lead a pack of zombies away from a guy trapped in a tree, even if he then throttled her neck and made it even harder to speak. Give a message to a radio outpost, even if they then dishonored their side of the agreement and held her at gunpoint, rather than just attempt to send airwaves to the States in search of her family. Because if she couldn't do the right thing, and try to stay faithful to her values and Jesus, what good was left in the world?

She ended up at Mullins because, once again, she got betrayed. A group of highway robbers caught her unawares, and she literally ran into some soldiers, who promised to just help her get out of the tight spot, but instead brought her to Mullins and enlisted her. Sour and panicked, she was so uncooperative to the point where they shipped her out to Abel for Project Greenshoot so they wouldn't have to deal with her anymore.

Getting to Abel:

While the apocalypse has been The Worst Thing Ever, getting her helicopter shot down was probably the best thing that ever happened to her in the apocalypse. It was the last thing that she expected, a rocket launcher barreling towards her, after everything she's already been through, and it shook her. For the first time since when she had a depressive episode as a preteen, she just simply wanted to die. Death seemed like the best option as she fell through the air to the sound of hungry zombies beneath her. Everything hurt too much. God wasn't answering her sobbing cries of help every night. She'd given it her all and it still wasn't enough. Gave far more than she took and got hurt every time. If she gave up, everything would just be easier. She was about to accept her death and simply let go of life. It wasn't like she had any friends or family left to love her anymore.

But when that voice crackled into her headset, urging her on and giving her a name, Five, which felt right in a way she couldn't explain, encouraging her- she knew she had to keep going. Life wasn't over yet. There was still hope. So she ran. And the longer that voice, Sam, spoke, the lighter she felt and the less emotionally exhausted she became. A voice in the back of her mind told her that this was the answer to her prayers for a friend, and for help. But she was still incredibly cautious. This seemed like the nicest person in the world, but what if he hurt her? What if she got betrayed again? After all, she knew nothing of who this Sam Yao was, beyond being awkward and sweet and kind of adorable. Wait, adorable? Where had that thought come from?

She wanted to be mistrustful of everyone at Abel when she got there, that was her intent. Especially after the doctor threatened to not let her in. But having those people show her kindness that she hadn't seen in months crumpled her barriers like wet paper. By the time her 8-week training was over she'd sunk right into Abel perfectly. Jody was her good friend who was always up for a hug and a story, Janine was smart and practical and reminded her of her older sister to the point where she started to treat Janine like an older sister, Eugene was a goofball who made bad jokes with her while sympathizing with what she'd been through, and Maxine was a God-send for figuring out how to turn off her survival mode again.

And during that time, she wanted to become friends with Sam, the voice who saved her, so badly. But he was wrapped up in grief from Alice's death. Which she understood. Nina's death still ate at her. Not to mention having no idea if her family was dead or alive. So even though it killed her, because this was the first time she'd wanted to have a friend in forever, she kept her distance to protect him from her brokenness. Because even though she'd lightened up, she still was a woman of few words who held all of her pain back from everyone. Even if that voice in her head saying Sam was God's answer to her problems got stronger and more insistent every day. And even if Maxine told her multiple times that Sam relied on her more than he could express or she could realize. She had to hold back.

Being a Runner: falling for each other

Until the night run in the dark. [fanfic one shot here that will eventually become a twoshot once I finish the post-run debrief.] Where all that slammed through Sam's head was I need a miracle for Five, and all that slammed through Five's was I'm running for Sam. And the moment she crashed into Sam's arms, him sobbing with relief and her sobbing with exhaustion and delirium, was the moment that she realized that she did, in fact, love Sam Yao. And for Sam, that was the moment he realized that he had to become her best friend. And the rest of that night was the first time Five told anyone about her past and her pain and what the apocalypse had been like for her. And Sam was there. As they talked and listened to one another was the moment they firmly became best friends.

Five’s love for Sam only grows in the next few months. But… she doesn’t know what to say, or even think honestly. She’s never been in love before. Ever. She’s, well, she’s scared. Which she knows is stupid. But what do you even say about something like that? ‘Hey Sam, you've chipped away at the hardened exterior that I was forced to adopt bit by bit, and I've become myself again, and you push me to be even better than I was every day. Also I am totally in love with you.'? So she says it in every way besides words. With each moment with Sam. Each gesture is her way of saying I love you. And she runs. For the same reasons as before- her faith. Her trust in God. Her putting goodness back into the terrible world. But now for another reason too. For Sam. For his voice. And even if he doesn't understand it, how he pushes her to trust in her faith even more. Her faith and trust in God are stronger than ever now and she's very strong in it and tries to shine that light to others.

Sam realizes that he loves Five when someone sends Five to die out of spite, as revenge. She's coming back into the gates, angry but not as angry as he is. He's ready to throw down with the person who did that to his runner. Then the way she just grasps his shoulders, locking eyes with him, and reminding him to breathe, he just- falls. So hard and so fast. He knew that this was coming. He's felt it growing since she came back brandishing supplies with the biggest smile in the world for the DnD campaign he was starting. But he ignored it. And now he can't anymore. Because it's Five. His Five. But what do you even say about something like that? ‘Hey Five, you mean everything to me, actually. You've given me something to fight for each day, given me hope when I've had none, and have helped me grow so much and overcome my doubts. I really, really, really love you, more than anyone or anything.’ So he tells her with his words, with every single thing he says. Every voice crack of fear or excitement over comms. Except those three, which are coincidentally, the most important ones. He talks, for the same reason as before. To protect the people he loves. But now for another reason too. For Five. For her running. For who she's pushed him to become. How she's taught him to fight for something even bigger than before.

There is an ending for their story (its REALLY good) but you're just gonna have to wait to read it until I'm done writing it tehehehe! It's more climactic that way. I'll link it here when it's done.

And there we go! A little bit about my Five and her story <3 Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

@stellar-collective drew my Five!! You can see her here<3 It's from this fanfic dabble

@tazzy-zooming the incredible made another drawing of her that I adore

and my dear friend @book-girl4evaaa did another here!!! Go flood her reblogs please

oh and @masterfuldoodler who is a WONDERFUL human being did her in her survival running mode SO WELL

and then she awed me again with this one which is like,,, the coolest thing EVER?? All of them are just SO SO SO GOOD IT PHYSICALLY PAINS ME HOW AMAZING IT IS

oh we are EATING now and have even MORE talented friends who have done me the honor of drawing my Five here's @valesyn 's incredibly dramatic rendition of Five fleeing zombies to that epic verse in Heavydirtysoul by Twenty One Pilots

Ao3

#i-will-go-with-you-five #mild spoilers #zombies run #runner five #sam yao #zr blog #runner 5 #zr #maxine myers #janine de luca #simon lauchlan #jody marsh

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copperbadge · 1 year ago

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Hi Sam! Recently diagnosed midlife ADHDer here. First, thanks for talking about your ADHD & sharing what you’re figuring out. It’s super helpful to someone on a similar trajectory.

I just saw a reference to your photo books for the first time & it seems like a great way to help with memory issues that come with ADHD (like I know I did [x thing] but when?). Could you talk a little about the process of collecting photos & such all year & then how you create one?

Thank you!

Ey, happy to have helped! Congrats and sympathies on your diagnosis. And honestly it's good for me too, talking all this out, it helps me get my thoughts in order. I often namedrop you guys to Therapist, you are "my readers" :D

The process of putting the photobooks together is...well, it's a lot, so this is going to be a super high-level overview, but basically yeah I wanted to have records of where I'd been and what I'd been doing that were more concrete than just digital photos on a hard drive or a cloud. But I didn't really want to just print the digital photos and put them in a box, either, so I started making photobooks. Usually I go through Walgreens or Shutterfly for printing, whichever has the good coupons when I'm working on it.

So, here's the weird, kind of obsessive part: a huge help in making a yearly photobook, for me, is the fact that I take my photos off my phone at the end of every month. I have some that live on the phone -- my growing collection of photos of my niece, a selection of photos from my Europe trip, some memes -- but those live in their own folders. The main camera roll gets downloaded every month, and I put them all in a file labeled with the month and year (2023-01, 2023-02, etc). It's a recurring task in my to-do list, that I offload the photos on the last Saturday of each month. You don't necessarily have to do it this way, though -- it's just what works best for me, and I encourage people to find a way to do things that will actually be functional for them.

Across the course of the year, although really moreso in October and November, I go through the photos and remove any I absolutely know I don't want to keep. Once I've done that, I save a copy of the whole year's worth of photos to my digital archive, and I take another copy and label it "FOR PHOTOBOOK" which allows me to do more culling of them than I otherwise would, because I know anything I delete is still in my archive. And this all has the advantage of me knowing that the photos in my archive are at least SOMEWHAT organized.

So I go through all the year's photos in the For Photobook file, month by month, sort them into folders by event (so there's, like, 01-Polar Vortex, or 04-Europe, or 09-Birthday) and clear out all but the photos I know I want most. My photobooks are generally longer than the default length they give you at most sites, so I usually do have to add a few pages (they're like $1/page or something) but not too many. Often these days I have some stuff that's events, like the Europe trip, and then some stuff that's just like....a folder of funny shit I saw in Chicago, or a folder of all the food I photographed that I want to save. The cats generally get their own four-page spread at the back. :D

In 2020, I will say, there were only two themes: CATS and COVID. I alternated pages.

Anyway, once I've got the photos sorted, and deleted any I don't want to include, I get on Shutterfly or Walgreens Photo and start up a new photobook project. I upload the first folder of photos, place them on the page with suitable captions, then upload the second folder of photos, etc etc, until all the photos are uploaded and placed in the book. I don't caption extensively -- often it'll just be a page that'll say like "TEXAS IN JULY!" and all the photos from that trip. But it definitely does help me keep track of what I was up to. And it's kind of soothing to review the year and see all the stuff I accomplished.

So that's the bare bones -- by all means feel free to ask questions, although if you guys wouldn't mind asking in comments or reblogs if possible, that should keep the discussion contained as necessary. :)

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nerdieforpedro · 5 months ago

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Empanadas and Chocolate

Part One of Foul Play Series

Javier Peña x Aria Davis (plus size female OC)

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: The meet cute between Javier Peña and Aria. The beginning of everything.

Warnings: Meet cute, adorable vibes, food, curioisity, (we’re safe this part - we had to start somewhere)

Word Count: a little over 1.8k

Notes: My smut fairy was gone for a very long time. Thanks to @magpiepills and a fic called "Aquarius" that she wrote that was all the right kinds of smutty filth, she inspired me to write this. It's from an old WIP I had started but never finished. Now it is in a completely different direction and one I like. She also beta read some (not the whole thing - gotta surprise her 😘). So here we are. Originally posted on A03.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Peña Masterlist

Together is what he told you. That you’d go on this journey together and help bring peace to an unsettled country. It’s been eight months and neither the government nor the American agencies involved in trying to take down Pablo Escobar were any closer to ending his reign. What did any of that mean for Aria?

Not much, just looking over the balcony of her small one bedroom apartment provided by the US embassy. Her fiance and her had decided on living separately since they were each entitled to their own places. It seemed like a weird idea at first, but the longer she stayed here, the more sense it made. She wouldn't have to hear him coming and going or worry when he would be home. He rarely was, only to have some mediocre sex, maybe sleep sometimes and leave again citing that he was needed back on the case. Aria sometimes was able to finish on her own, but increasingly she couldn’t even do that, getting tired in the middle of things and giving up to read a book, listen to some music and just sleep. Sleep was what she did best.

It was early yet and the sun was just cresting over the horizon, painting a golden pink across the sky, it was barely six in the morning. One positive for coming here, despite all the violence was the scenery, it was beautiful and so were the people, well those she had met. That was two. She sighed and entered her apartment readying herself for work and headed off to the embassy where she worked as an accountant along with four others in a small office. It was cramped but she got to know them well, all nice, sometimes a little too chatty. Her days were similar, rise, go to work, come home, sometimes see her fiance, fuck, sleep, repeat.

It was on a rare day off during the week where she decided to venture to her favorite little shop down the street. Here she didn’t wear the knee length shirt of buttoned up shirt that fit a little too tight, she could wear a flowing dress with sunflowers on it. It was a gift from an older woman a few doors down. She also often gave her rice, meat, vegetables and other foods, hence why her work clothes didn’t fit as well as they once did. Her build was stocky and dense from head to toe though she did have breasts that stuck out a bit farther than her belly and wide hips so that helped, but in her work clothes she was still self-conscious, she knew it hugged in all of the places good and bad. It was always a button down shirt and skirt. She could get away with a polo shirt or sweater depending on who was in the office but more often than not if their supervisor came in and they weren’t dressed appropriately it was a warning then could progress to a write up. So stupid.

Arriving at the shop, she spied her prizes, empanadas and chocolate cake. She went to order as another person placed theirs, a tall man whose skin had been kissed by the sun, wore dark aviator sunglasses, and had a thick head of hair with a mustache to match. He stood with his hands on his slim hips, a rose pink shirt on with medium wash jeans and what was likely a gun along his back. He was cracking a joke with the señora who ran the shop with her husband. The señora asked for her order again as she had lost her train of thought while looking him up and down.

Unfortunately, it turned out that the handsome stranger had taken the last piece of chocolate cake. Aria pouted but little could be done, she hoped he at least enjoyed it, maybe it was a reward to himself for something that happened that day or week? She just hoped he wasn’t the type to eat a few bites and dispose of it. Taking the three empanadas she ordered, she turned to leave as the señora pointed to her and said her name. Apparently, handsome sunglasses wanted to add empanadas to his order but didn’t tell señora when he got the cake. The accountant had the last of them. He walked over with a smile,

“Disculpe señorita (excuse me miss), could I buy one of the empanadas from you? I just need one.” He asked, almost pleading, how much did he need one? Aria raised a counter offer,

“If you’ll spit half of the cake with me, I’ll give you the empanada at no charge.” She raised a finger. He nodded and waved his hand toward one of the small tables with chairs outside where they could do the exchange. He pulled out her chair for her and Aria thanked him, he said there was no thanks needed, he should be thanking her. He’d been looking forward to the empanadas all week, the señora here makes the best ones. To that, she agreed and pulled out the bag with the rolled and fried goods. Señor brought them plates, some water and napkins, insisting that they eat here. Aria shook her head but aviators nodded and assured her he was alright with it as long as she was, that he would make for good company.

“Alright, let’s exchange and eat. Here.” She took one of the empanadas and placed it on the plate in front of pink shirt. He cut his chocolate cake in half and placed it on her plate.

“Here you go. We’re even.” He chuckled, quickly picking up his newly earned empanada and moaning as he took a bite. “Been thinking about these all day…” His eyes were closed as he chewed slowly, savoring the flavor of the onions, chicken, potatoes and peppers. Aria nodded as she watched his mouth, he smacked his lips before taking another bite and another moan left him. It wasn’t long before she wondered if she should be watching this, it felt like she was intruding on a private moment. She picked up water and downed a few gulps before biting into her own empanada, humming with the flavor.

“Mierda eso esta bien (Shit that’s good).”

Pink shirt had momentarily forgotten that he was sitting in public, with a woman no less. He cleared his throat and drank some sips of his water before muttering sorry to his table mate. She shook her head and told him that the lovely couple who owned the shop would be delighted to know he enjoyed the food that much, plus it was fun to watch him eat. Shaking his head, he asked her how long she had been coming to the little shop and in Columbia in general. Her accent sounded similar to his partner’s - American. She told him eight months in Columbia and six for the shop. It took her a few months to get acclimated at work and to the slower pace. She appeared to indicate that she was enjoying herself but there was a large part he knew she was leaving out: the ring on her left fourth finger. There could be a few reasons she could be leaving out that detail, none of them were good for him. She was definitely easy on the eyes, well scratch that. He found her gorgeous, her smile and laugh and the fair trade was definitely a bonus. He would at least let her know his name before they parted. The city of Bogotá seemed larger than it really was. He learned that she did accounting at the Embassy, he told her that he was with the police - didn’t think she really needed to know he was an agent.

“My name’s Javier, Javier Peña. What’s your’s Mrs?” He finally asked as the stood and disposed of their trash. Her warm smile faded with the question. Did that mean she really was married? Peña wasn’t really up for all the drama that came with that even if she did have hips he wanted to see from the back, a very different angle than he was looking at them now.

“No, no. I’m engaged. It’s…I’m engaged. “ Her nod told him she needed to be convinced she was in fact engaged. Usually engaged couples are supposed to be happy. Not that he wasn’t familiar with how that could burn horribly. It wasn’t his business, though he wondered. “My name is Aria Davis. It’s nice to meet you Javier. Thanks for the cake.” Her smile remained warm, he may see her around at the embassy though he didn’t recall ever meeting her before.

“I see. Well congratulations hermosa (beautiful). He’s a lucky man. Gracias for the empanadas. The señor here makes some of the best ones in Bogotá. I may see you if you come again, I’ll try not to take all the cake this time. I usually don’t eat sweets.” Peña explained, it was true he did not. He’s had another failed raid with no new information found and it would be a day that he forgot to get a new carton of cigarettes. He was on his way to go buy some when he noticed he was passing by señora Hernandez’s tienda (store) so he figured he’d stop in and get the food on the way. He hadn’t eaten all day, plus he’d been meaning to come all week. “Today didn’t go so well so I figured I’d get something on my way.” He paused. Did she walk here?

“Do you need a ride home, Aria?” He tilted his head in the direction of his car to which Aria shook her head.

“Oh no I live close by. Thank you though. I’m going home after this. Just going to relax a bit before work tomorrow.” Aria’s smile didn’t falter and Javier was curious, shouldn’t she be mentioning spending time with her fiancée? He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bent card. He handed it to her and she took it reading it over, her eyes revealed her surprise but she didn’t mention that she’d heard of him. Aria assumed he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Here’s my card just in case. Bogotá is beautiful but can be dangerous. Call me if you need help okay?” The nod and grin that followed made her giggle. “I’ll come running and may speed a bit.” Javier cracked a small joke, it was a bad though but she didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll remember that Javier. I do pretty well at staying out of trouble though.”

“Trouble has a way of finding people Aria.” Peña took a step closer and spoke in her ear. “Call me Javi. Stay safe hermosa.” With that he turned and walked to his car, getting in and waving to her before putting one hand on the steering wheel and driving off.

Aria was left standing with Javier’s lingering words and his breath on her ear. The food in her belly wasn’t the only thing heating it from within. Peña wasn’t wrong. Trouble had found her.

Part Two

Dipping their empanadas in chocolate for Javi to lick off 🍫: @syd-djarin @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @guelyury

@yorksgirl @indiegirlunited @readingiskeepingmegoing @fhatbhabiee @javierpena-inatacvest

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier peña x plus size ofc #nerdieforpedro #a short series

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leadfort · 5 hours ago

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Fuck it. Bre'uhn/Brian Masterpost. Because he is my primary player character in a text basted D&D Westmarch I'm part of, and I can't believe i havent talked about him yet cause he's the one I actually PLAY the most. Currently lvl 6 psi warrior, started at level 2. Basically. His whole deal is based on the thought that he needs to kill an illithid in order to be welcomed in with his kin in Tu'narath.

Also I wanted to make a very gith looking gith lol and he has since become a lil more unique in his design, but the biggest inspiration initially was the 5:e Volo's guide to monsters image of a githyanki as well as wanting the funny lil 1:e hair style Overview: Bre’uhn is a githyanki who is haunted by extraordinarily bad luck. He wants nothing but complete his rite of passage into the Astral Plane by killing an illithid and bringing its head to his queen. Life seems to have different plans for him as something always seems to go wrong. The ship that would take him sunk. His party left without him. Adventurers has already killed the illithids he went out to get. The hunting party was stopped by an out of season blizzard. Even casually it seems like bad luck is always right around the corner. He's become extremely superstitious and afraid of things that could cause even worse luck. He adorns himself in lucky trinkets in hope that they will counteract his ‘curse’. Now he’s in his 30s, and he is growing more impatient. If he doesn’t get that illithid head soon, he’s going to die from old age.

Personality: Everything you’d expect from a githyanki. He’s impatient, stubborn, proud and blunt. Values efficiency and shows of force. He does have quite a bit of humor, though it borders on being ridicule and mockery. Wants to be logical, but acts based on emotion. Where he differs is his extremely crippling social and performance anxieties. He hates that he has these though unfortunately, him trying to force himself through them causes more flare ups.

He's also extremely expressive and everyone can read him like an open book. He.. also hates this aspect about himself but at this point he can't be arsed to stop it.

Backstory: Grew up in a creche in the Spine of the World that is pretty far up in a mountainous and a harsh cold region. It’s rather close to a small town next to Mirabar. His upbringing was pretty much standard for a githyanki, and he reflects his culture in his temperament a whole lot. While the creche and the town didn’t love each other, they weren’t outright hostile to one another, and it was not super uncommon for githyanki to sometimes show themselves in the town.

Once Bre’uhn was in his early 20s he tried to join several hunting parties in order to find and kill his first illithid to be "properly" allowed into the Astral Plane. However, something always came up or went wrong for himself specifically. He’d always had a bit of bad luck in his shadow, but this is when it really started to mess with him. In his mid 20s he started to believe that Tymora herself scorned him. He didn’t know why, but started to learn more about the istiks pantheon and religions in order to get in her good graces. He even tattooed her symbol into his ribs, a four leaf clover. Just two months after he got the tattoo, he got into a barfight. In typical githyanki fashion it soon escalated to a knife fight and he stabbed one of the other patrons. The four leaf clover was slashed in the process and Bre’uhn soon found himself in prison.

“Luckily” enough, the man he stabbed did not die, which simply meant that Bre’uhn was not sent to be executed. In hindsight, Bre’uhn maybe would have preferred this… As he then spent six years in prison. Six whole years where he was not able to search or find any illithids. His prison mates also didn’t know how to pronounce his name, thus gave him the nickname “Brian”. As an extra kicker, once he got out of prison the creche where he grew up had completely relocated. None of the townspeople knew where they all had gone (and it's not like the githyanki would've told em), but it seemed they had all just packed up and left three years ago.

Still, he’s determined to find an illithid and that takes precedence over searching for his own kin. A few years into his search, he stumbled across a fortune teller. They told him that his chance to ‘prove himself’ will come when he least expects it. Bre’uhn, fully believing the fortune teller, took this to mean that if he is actively searching for illithids, he will not find them. If he expects them, he will ‘jinx’ it, and thus they will not show themselves.

----

The game then picks up where he is ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN there is a mind flayer colony deeply imbedded in an abandoned mine outside Mirabar. He has rigged this whole cave with explosives, but as he sets up the few last barrels of smokepowder, he slips on the powder as a bright portal to Waterdeep suddenly sucks him up. ... and spits him out, crashing in the middle of the Waterdeep Market. He is quickly punched to the ground as he tries to attack people in his confusion and told about the strange rifts and portals that are opening around Faerun. And now, he is here, still on his quest to bring a single 1 (one) head to Vlaakith. Sure, there's literally a permanent opening to the Astral Sea above him all the time (thanks rifts...) But going there without his tribute is IMPROPER.

Trivia:

Oral fixation - Likes to chew on blades of grass or picks. Nibbles on his lip ring.

Very expressive face, which he doesn't like but he cant help himself.

Obsessively collects luck trinkets because you never know.

As a githyanki, he's not against murder and violence. But he started to curb his behaviour since he is afraid of going to prison again.

Since he's convinced his bad luck is the cause of a god, he is well versed in gods and religious practices. Moreso in that he's ready to fight them at this point.

Midlife crisis. Extremely afraid of growing old and he dyed a patch of his hair because he found white strands.

He got the tattooes in prison, which represents his wish to be amongst the clouds on the back of a red dragon.

Other Thoughts: Bre'uhn is aware that his 6 years spent in prison with humans, dwarves and a half-orc for company has changed the way he acts and talks quite a lot. This is cause for his anxieties since he is worried that even if he were to complete his rite of passage, the other githyanki would find him too different to let him back in. This results in him avoiding other gith at all costs because he doesn't want it confirmed... which tenfolds his anxieties when he's forced to talk to one. (And he is no stranger to panic attacks).

He scoffs in the face of zombies, owlbears, hags and black dragons and has not a single drop of fear for them. But seeing another gith from 30 feet away has his bones crumble.

Thank you for readin!

#oc #original character #d&d #githyanki #myart #bre'uhn #dnd character

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sweetprfct · 1 year ago

Text

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sometimes things just doesn't seem to work out and maybe sometimes that's okay.

Author's Note: Here's one of my angsty fics. So, I apologize.

Wordcount: 2.9K

Six months.

That was exactly how long it has been since you have last seen him. Since that night. You haven’t fully found yourself yet, but you took it day by day. The first two months since he left were the worst parts of your life. You would stare into nothingness, while you sat on your sofa. You would barely eat. You would barely move. You would barely go out with your friends. Busy, that was what you would tell them. You have been busy with work. But weekends were spent on your bed, sleeping all day, or crying at certain times when you would find a piece of him around your flat. An old t-shirt tucked into the corner inside your drawers, his scent still lingering on the fabric. A piece of paper where he would doodle little flowers or hearts for you. It all consumed you in a way where you couldn’t move the moment you found little pieces of him in your place.

You should start cleaning around.

You told yourself that, but you never got around to it. It was almost like you were too scared to throw away the things he had left because you knew that the moment all of his things were gone, you knew that you had to face the reality that he really wasn’t part of your life anymore. That you would never see him again. It was four years of you two being together and in one blink of an eye, he was just gone. It was like those four years didn’t exist, but in your heart and in your mind, those four years were still crystal clear.

“Hey,” He would appear behind you after a long day of filming.

He would come home, and he would find you cooking dinner in the kitchen. There was something about having these domestic moments with him that made you feel warm and cozy on the inside. His lips would linger at the back of your neck, his warm breath creating goosebumps on your skin and you would lean back against him and sigh happily.

“Joe.” You warned. “I’m cooking dinner. Don’t distract me.”

A small giggle would come out of you, and he would make it even worse as he would start kissing down your neck and on your shoulder.

The kitchen was always a special place for you two. Joe loved to cook and when he was not filming, he would show you his love language and that would be spoiling you with some delicious homemade food and spending the day watching movies in the living room. Sometimes, you two would find yourselves taking a nap on the sofa. It was little moments like these that made you love him even more. It was little moments like these that made your heart ache every time it reappeared in your memories. You couldn’t bring yourself to enter your kitchen in the first two weeks since he left. You would order take out and completely avoid it unless you really needed something. You even bought yourself a mini fridge to store your bottles of water in your room just so you could avoid that one room in the flat.

The kitchen may have good memories, but it was also the last memory you had with him, and it wasn’t a good one. You knew that things between you two had been distant lately. He had been busy booking more roles, and you had been busy with your own job. After you got promoted in the office, you saw less and less of each other. Joe would fly to the States for filming, and you would sit in the flat alone, eating dinner by yourself. It didn’t really occur to you at the beginning because of the fact that you were also busy. Supporting each other’s careers were one of the strongest traits you two had in the relationship but how did it become like this? How did it end like this?

It took about two months of Joe being away from you that you started to feel the distance between you two. Not just the fact that he was across the pond but how he was starting to be distant to you even if he was home. He would text or call on the first few weeks of his filming in the States but then, he started to go silent on you. The only time you would see him would be paparazzi pictures of him and his co-stars hanging out at a bar or at some concert.

It bothered you. It bothered you that he couldn’t reply to one text or pick up his phone when you would call after not hearing from him for a week, but he had the time to hang out and go have some drinks with his newly found friends. It bothered you even more when he was seen with one of his co-stars getting too close. The picture you saw on the internet made your stomach drop. They were in a concert with his other co-stars, and she was sitting next to him, whispering something in his ear, while her hand was on his thigh. Joe had a smug smile on his face, and you immediately exited Twitter as soon as you saw it.

It hurt. It hurt a lot when you saw that.

After that, you didn’t hear from him. A month of you indulging yourself on the internet and staring at every new picture of him and the girl. You wanted to scream. You wanted to say something to him. You wanted to call and ask him what was going on, but you didn’t bother because he didn’t even bother replying or calling you back. That was until he came back home to London. You just had a long day at work, and you stayed later than usual in the office and when you came home, you saw Joe sitting on the sofa. You couldn’t look at him. You felt disgusted. So, you muttered a hello to him and made your way to the kitchen to heat up some leftovers.

“How are you?” Joe asked you, following behind you.

He slipped his arms around your waist and gave you a kiss on the cheek, but you pushed him away. You occupied yourself by taking the bowl of leftover chicken from the microwave and pulled out some utensils.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked. “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t called. Filming had been really busy and–”

The sudden clang of utensils got Joe’s attention as you let out a sharp breath. Tears were starting to form in your eyes, but you held it in. You couldn’t let him see you like this. Your back was still turned to him as silence took over the both of you.

“Busy filming, huh?” You finally said, your tone of voice sounded angry.

“Yes.” Joe’s eyes stared at you as you turned to face him.

“Tell me, Joe. Is that it?” You raised your brow, holding the spoon tightly in your hand. “Is that the only reason why? It’s not because you were cuddling with some girl in the States?”

“For fuck sake!” Joe shook his head. “Is this what it’s about?”

“No, Joe!” You exclaimed. “This isn’t just about her! It’s about how you don’t reply to my texts or when I call, you never answer! It’s the fact that I haven’t heard from you in a month, and you come back in here like there’s nothing wrong!”

Your voice shook. Your whole body trembled in anger as you stared at him, tears welling up in your eyes. Joe didn’t say anything because he knew. He knew you were right. Both of you had been distant from each other, and he had denied it. You both had denied it. It didn’t mean that he had stopped caring. Things had just been different lately with all the things he needed to do for his career.

“Hey.” He walked around the kitchen island and wiped the tears that started rolling down your cheeks, but you pushed his hand away.

“Don’t!” You warned him, taking a step back. “Don’t act like you care because I know you haven’t cared for a while now.”

“That’s not true!” Joe barked. “I care about you!”

“Not like the way you did before!” You argued, your eyes widened.

You felt stupid. You have been denying this for months now, and you knew that things had not been the same lately. That things had changed. You just couldn’t face that reality and maybe, Joe couldn’t either that was why he was still here standing in front of you.

“We kissed.” Joe admitted, his head hung low. “Once. But that was it. It didn’t mean anything!”

You nodded your head as reality creeped in slowly. You couldn’t move. You felt angry. You felt that knot in your stomach, and you felt like vomiting as you heard those words came out of Joe’s lips. Four years of being together just all washed away by those words. Those words that stabbed you right on your chest as you grabbed the bowl of chicken and threw it at Joe. Fortunately, for him, he had ducked just in time as the bowl shattered on the wall behind him, leaving the chicken a mess on your floor.

“I’m sorry.” Joe tried to walk towards you, but you kept stepping back as you sobbed in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head as he tried to cup your face and looked into your eyes, but you were pushing him away, hand scratching and grabbing the fabric of his sweater as you slapped his hands away from your face.

“I’m sorry.” Joe cried, tears rolled down his face too.

You shook your head as you sobbed in front of him as you started pacing back and forth in front of him, while Joe tried to reach for your hand. So many questions were running in your mind and so many emotions washing over you.

“Please.” Joe murmured. “I’m so sorry.” He pulled you in his arms as he hugged you from behind and buried his face on your shoulder.

You closed your eyes, feeling his strong arms around you, while tears streamed down your face. Joe continued to murmur his “I’m sorrys,” but the image of him and that girl just kept flickering in your mind, and it made you angry and disgusted. How could he do this? How could he just easily throw away everything you both had?

“It didn’t mean anything.” Joe turned you around, his hands sliding down your arms and taking a hold of your hands. “I know I have been distant, and I’m sorry. Work had been stressful, and I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

“We’re partners, Joe.” You sniffed, sliding your hands away from him and wiped the tears on your face. “I thought we knew how to communicate with each other. I thought we knew how to be there for each other no matter what the situation was. You were the one person I thought that would never hurt me like this.”

“I know. I just…” Joe sloppily wiped his own tears. “I just couldn’t bring you into this crazy world that I entered, and I… I know. I’m so sorry. I was drunk and it happened so fast.”

Another silence took over before you asked him the one question that had been repeating in your mind for the past month.

“D… Do you still love me?”

Silence.

It hit you like a ton of bricks when he couldn’t answer your question. The silence was enough for you to know the real answer from Joe. No, he didn’t love you anymore. It was the silence that you never thought would make you feel that sharp pain in your chest. Joe took a step forward to you, his hand reaching, but you couldn’t look at him any longer. He was a different person to you now. He wasn’t the same Joe that you knew for the last four years.

“The kiss meant nothing to me.” Joe repeated it again, but you weren’t listening anymore. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You sniffed. “I know how you feel about me and the fact is you don’t love me anymore.”

Another silence.

“I think you should go.” You stated, wiping the last remaining tears on your face.

“What?”

“I think you should go.”

And just like that, it was the last time you saw his face. You walked away from him and went to your room. You never saw him again. You only heard the sound of him packing his things and the door closing behind him as you sobbed in your bed that night. Ever since then, you haven't gotten any sleep at all. That was six months ago though. You have been okay since. At least that was what you thought until you had walked by a coffee shop one day and the sight of Joe had given you that negative feeling in your stomach again. He was with another girl, kissing her softly as they waited in line inside. You stood there outside by the window as you felt yourself breaking down again.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t move.

You shouldn’t be here.

You thought that the feelings were gone. You thought the hurt that Joe had caused you was enough for you to hate him, but you were wrong. You still loved him. Perhaps, you always will. He was always going to be a part of you no matter what but seeing him with another girl made you face the fact that you needed to also move on with your life. You needed to stop dwelling on him. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

So, that was what you did. You worked on yourself for weeks and weeks turned into months and months turned into a year. You started going out again with your friends. You started smiling little by little again, and you finally had brought courage to yourself into stepping into that kitchen again. The mark on the wall where the bowl had shattered that night was still there. You ran your fingers through it, but you felt okay now. You didn’t feel anything. You had told yourself to fix that hole on the wall and maybe re-decorate the kitchen and so, you did. It was almost like the more you had fixed that kitchen, the more you were fixing yourself too.

You saw an ad of Joe on the internet one day, and he looked different. A good different. He looked okay. Just like you. You were okay. You have moved on. You have focused more on your career, friends, and family for a while now. Another year passed and you were more than okay. You were good.

Two years.

Exactly two years since that night. If only you could go back in time and tell yourself that you were going to be okay, you would. Though, you wouldn’t have had it either way because it taught you lessons. It taught you new things about yourself that you never knew before. Your only hope was that Joe was okay too. Even if the relationship didn’t end well, he was still Joe. Your Joe. The Joe that you knew for four years and loved you then. The Joe that you loved.

You were walking down the streets of London one day just right after office hours when you had heard that familiar voice call your name. You froze in place as you slowly turned around and saw Joe standing there in front of you. He looked different. You couldn’t explain it, but he just looked different. He looked more mature and older.

“Hey.” You gave him a small smile.

“Hi.” He gave you a tight lipped smile as he slid his hands in his coat pockets.

“It’s… It’s been a while.”

You didn’t know exactly how to react. You didn’t expect to ever see his face again, but you were glad that you did. Somehow, you didn’t feel that pain in your chest anymore as you looked into his brown eyes. You didn’t feel that knot in your stomach. You just felt content and relaxed.

“Yeah, it has been.”

“How are you?” Joe asked.

“I’m good. How are you?” Your eyes studied him. “You… You look great.”

“Thank you. I’m good. I just got back from the States. I had a movie premiere that just finished.”

“Oh? Well, congratulations.”

For a moment, you two just stood there, looking at each other. Both of you knew that the pain had washed away. That both of you had learned something from it. That both of you had grown from it. That maybe the two years had healed the both of you. That maybe the two years had made you both mature.

“Listen,” Joe started. “I just want to thank you for always being so understanding and supportive of me. I truly am sorry for giving you the pain that I know you didn’t deserve.”

It was closure.

Something both of you needed after that night.

A small smile appeared on your face, your eyes twinkled for a moment. “It’s alright. I didn’t regret being with you.”

Joe’s lips also curved into an understanding smile. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

Both of you walked away in opposite directions and for a minute, you stopped in your tracks and looked over your shoulder to see Joe doing the same thing. You gave each other one more smile before completely walking away.

The End.

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joe Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joseph Quinn rpf #Joe Quinn rpf #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn Fanfic #sad beautiful tragic #one shot #sweetprfct

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