#drunk zoo!
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kingsprinkle · 17 days ago
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scalene-4 · 6 months ago
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i wrote this song in december of 2021 while home for the holidays, the morning after a surprising and rattling episode of weed-induced psychosis. exactly how this came into my possession i forget, but i had one of those super concentrated thc pills and i took one before watching the truman show for the first time with my siblings. needless to say by the time that thing was hitting so was the movie and the ending scene had me convinced that jim carrey was an avatar for me and my entire life was scripted and that scene was the entity or people behind the veil revealing this existential charade. i freaked out had a panic attack ran outside into the rain in my socks looking for cameras and definitely scared the shit out of my brother and sister but as the weed wore off so did the delusions and i eventually went to sleep. the next day my family and i went to the san diego zoo and i was obviously still really shaken up/slightly embarrassed from the previous nights events. my sister and i started joking about how fucked up it would be to make a pro drunk driving album with a kid in headlights as the cover — i expressed that maybe a whole album was a lot of work but you could do a song and just then the entirety of dui popped into my head fully formed, exactly as you hear it. thus is the tale of hyperpop drunk driving song……….. don’t do drugs :) or do, it’s none of my business
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meteortrails · 2 months ago
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This is a stupid ask, feel free to ignore, but I've been stuck crushing on a close friend for 3+ of the 6 years we've known each other.
It's unrequited due to their sexuality and frankly I really enjoy their company platonically. I've not confessed and never plan on it, but I do wonder if there's anything I'm doing wrong or should be doing.
it’s ok!! and from what you’ve told me you’re not doing anything wrong, but only you and your friend can actually be the judge of that. your romantic feelings are not some ticking time bomb that will inevitably make you act inappropriately or ruin your friendship - the only thing you should be doing is acting as their friend the way you’ve been doing for years. don’t act in ways you know will feel romantic for you even if they don’t for your friend, and don’t push yourself to be friends with them in a way that makes you feel hurt or upset bc of your feelings, but I promise you this can all work out ok. this is your friend, and even if it’s not always platonic you do love them, and you’ll get through it. I know that my post was maybe a bit melodramatic, but in all seriousness: if you need to pull back for the sake of your emotional health, do it. if it’s a real friendship they will understand and they will be there when you’re ready to come back to it.
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lesbianbongwater · 11 months ago
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Usually drinking makes me feel less insane but instead I feel more insane. Have you ever been uncomfortably aware of your teeth? Human meat should be sold at the supermarket. I would stab a bitch for fucked up sex and a cigarette
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darkgriffin2017 · 1 year ago
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Dig cheers
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lilirae00 · 12 days ago
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You Kissed Me First
Summary One-Shot: One party. One kiss that wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Paige and Azzi try to laugh it off—until they can’t.
Word count: 8.6k
Warnings: alcohol use, sexual content 18+ 
a/n: This one comes from a prompt here. Thanks for the idea, hope you enjoy this one! And in honor of All-Star Weekend this weekend, I have some more fics coming out! Stay tuned!
Masterlist
The house was packed shoulder to shoulder with athletes, the air heavy with heat and beer and that distinct tang of cheap cologne. Music pounded from a speaker in the corner, rattling the floorboards of the old off-campus house the men’s team had rented for the night.
Paige lingered near the kitchen doorway, sipping something suspiciously neon from a red Solo cup and watching the chaos. It wasn’t really their scene.
But they’d promised.
All week the women’s team had been giving Nika shit about showing up for her boyfriend’s big party, and somehow it turned into a pact: no one goes alone, no one bails early, and no one lets anyone wander off alone.
So here they were.
Paige leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the crowd. Across from her, Nika was perched on the counter, legs swinging.
“You see Caroline?” Paige asked after a minute.
Nika jerked her chin toward the drink table. “Mixing death in a cup with Azzi. Don’t worry, I made them promise to buddy system.”
Paige snorted. “Good.”
They watched the swirl of bodies for a while, the thud of bass filling in any need for small talk. Paige didn’t mind—Nika was quiet too, tapping out a text to her boyfriend, who was busy playing drunk host.
When Caroline finally wandered back, her hair a little damp from humidity, she was alone.
Paige frowned, scanning the crowd automatically. Azzi was her best friend. Not her responsibility—but also kind of her responsibility.
“Where’s Azzi?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual.
Caroline shrugged, pulling a face. “Said she was coming to find you. Probably got distracted. She’s fine, Paige, chill.”
Paige frowned, scanning the crowd automatically.
“It’s a zoo in here,” she muttered. “We literally made a rule about this.”
“God, Mom,” Caroline teased, rolling her eyes.
Paige ignored her. She was already pushing off the doorframe, craning her neck.
It wasn’t possessive. It wasn’t weird. It was just… the pact.
No one left alone.
Paige’s heart gave a weird lurch the second she spotted Azzi across the living room. She was standing with one of the guys from the men’s team—Kenny something—and he was leaning in way too close, hand braced against the wall beside her head like he thought he was in a music video. Paige slowed, watching them for a second from across the room.
Azzi was smiling politely, nodding at whatever he was saying, but her eyes kept darting away. Paige could read her body language like a damn textbook. Shoulders slightly hunched. Arms folded loosely under her chest, not hugging herself exactly but not open either. Defensive. She looked like she was trapped.
Paige felt something ugly twist in her gut.
She glanced back toward the kitchen where Nika and Caroline were talking to a few guys, clearly distracted. No help there. Paige set her jaw, shoved her half-finished drink onto the nearest windowsill, and started moving.
She didn’t think about what she was going to say.
Didn’t plan it at all.
She just saw Azzi’s face—the relief that flickered and was quickly suppressed when she noticed Paige coming—and acted.
Paige walked right up without breaking stride, planted herself beside Azzi, and slung an arm around her waist in one smooth motion. Her hand splayed against Azzi’s hip possessively, fingers curling to hold her in place. 
She felt Azzi tense for half a heartbeat before melting, practically sagging into Paige’s side with silent, blessed relief.
Kenny blinked, clearly thrown off. Paige didn’t give him a chance to recover. She turned her head, pressed her mouth to Azzi’s, and kissed her.
It wasn’t a peck.
It wasn’t chaste.
It was a claim.
Azzi’s breath stuttered, caught between surprise and something else Paige didn’t dare examine too closely. But she didn’t push her away. She kissed her back. 
Their mouths moved together for a second longer than was strictly necessary, enough that Paige felt her own pulse spike alarmingly, before she pulled back just enough to breathe.
She didn’t move her arm. She didn’t let Azzi step away.
Paige turned her head to glare at Kenny, who was standing there looking like he’d just witnessed a car crash in slow motion.
“You ready to go, babe?” Paige asked, voice steady and cool, though her heart was trying to punch through her ribs.
Azzi blinked up at her, still stunned, lips parted and wet from the kiss. Then, like she was waking up, she nodded quickly. “Yeah,” she said, voice scratchy but sure. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Paige didn’t wait for any further discussion. She turned them both smoothly, arm still around Azzi’s waist, and walked them away without another word. She felt Azzi’s hand come up to rest lightly at her back, fingers curling in her shirt for balance.
They didn’t speak until they were halfway back across the living room toward the rest of their team.
Paige exhaled hard, pulse still thundering in her ears, and finally found her voice.
“Shit. Sorry. That was… uh. Impulsive.”
Azzi let out a choked laugh, breathless but not angry. Paige felt her body relax just a fraction under her arm.
“You think?” Azzi muttered, the corner of her mouth twitching like she was fighting a smile.
Paige’s cheeks burned. She rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand. “I just—he was being a creep. And you looked like you wanted out. I couldn’t think of anything else. Sorry if I overdid it.”
Azzi’s eyes flicked up to her face, softening noticeably.
“No, Paige,” she said quietly. “It’s okay. That was...actually pretty funny.”
Paige blinked at her.
Azzi’s smile finally cracked through, tired but genuine. “And thanks. Really.”
Paige huffed out a laugh she didn’t feel, trying to ignore the weird way her stomach was twisting. “Yeah. Anytime, Fudd.”
They made it back to the kitchen in an awkward shuffle that neither tried to fix. 
Paige dropped her arm from Azzi’s waist, shoving her hands deep in her pockets, but she could still feel the warm imprint of her. Azzi was pink-cheeked and breathing just a touch too fast, but she didn’t move away.
The girls barely seemed to notice the weird tension at first. Caroline was busy rolling the sad, foamy keg on its side with a scowl. Nika and Aaliyah were laughing at something on Nika’s phone. Ice and Jana were arguing with some dude about who would win beer pong between them. 
Caroline straightened just in time to spot Azzi and Paige standing too close but acting like they weren’t. She squinted.
Azzi let out a sharp, quiet breath, folding her arms and glaring lightly. “Thanks for ditching me, by the way,” she muttered, voice low but pointed.
Caroline blinked, innocent as a cat. “Excuse me? I thought you were going to find Paige.”
Azzi’s lips twitched, biting back something between a laugh and a groan. “Yeah,” she deadpanned. “Well. She found me.”
Nika made an intrigued noise from the side but didn’t jump in. Paige shot her a glare that said don’t even start.
Caroline snorted, clearly fighting a smile, and wiped her palms on her jeans. “Whatever. You survived.”
Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t answer, her gaze darting sideways to Paige and then away just as fast.
Paige felt heat crawl up her neck, the words You’re welcome dying on her tongue. She wished she had a drink to fidget with, but she’d abandoned hers god-knows-where.
The group fell into a clumsy lull that settled, eventually, into semi-normal banter. Nika cracked open another cheap beer. Aaliyah started telling a story about their last away game that had everyone snorting.
Paige forced herself to laugh at the right spots. Azzi loosened up, joining in with quiet quips that made Caroline roll her eyes and nudge her shoulder. It wasn’t normal, but it was enough to pass for it.
But Paige kept stealing glances. Kept catching Azzi’s fingers fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. Kept feeling that damned phantom pressure of her mouth pressed to Azzi’s.
The room felt too warm.
Azzi’s laugh, low and husky, felt like a goddamn brand every time Paige heard it.
About a half hour later, Paige was trying to focus on a conversation about whether they should just leave and get pizza, but she couldn’t sit still. 
Her stomach twisted. Her head buzzed. And worst of all—she really had to pee.
She rocked on her heels and finally blurted, too loud, “Okay. I gotta piss.”
Nika raised an eyebrow. “Wow, classy.”
Paige flipped her off without looking at her, pushing off the counter. “Yeah, yeah. Who’s coming with me? I’m not getting murdered in the hall bathroom alone in this frat house nightmare.”
Caroline immediately jerked her thumb at Azzi with a lazy smirk. “Azzi’s going. Obviously.”
Azzi made a face but didn’t argue. “Cool,” she sighed, resigned. She gave Caroline a dirty look she didn’t mean. “Thanks for volunteering me.”
Caroline’s grin widened. “Anytime, babe.”
Paige didn’t trust herself to look at Azzi directly. She just jerked her head toward the upstairs hallway. “Let’s go.”
Azzi fell in step behind her without another word, close enough Paige could feel the heat of her.
They didn’t talk as they pushed through the half-drunk clusters of people. Didn’t talk as they squeezed down the narrow hall and up the stairs, ignoring the couples making out against the walls.
But Paige felt every single inch between them shrink with each step.
And she knew—God, she knew—this was about to be a problem.
Paige jiggled the old brass handle and made a face at the complaining creak of the hinges. 
The bathroom was even smaller than she’d expected—some half-assed renovation with cracked linoleum floors and a mirror that looked like it hadn’t seen Windex since before they’d graduated high school. 
She flicked on the overhead light, squinting as it buzzed to life in a harsh, yellow glare.
Azzi stepped in after her, the door barely clearing her back. She took one look around, scrunching her nose with an unimpressed huff. “Luxury,” she deadpanned, voice dry as desert heat.
Paige let out a short, huffing laugh, locking the door with a flick of her thumb. The muffled thump of bass-heavy music outside dropped to a low, pulsing hum that made the silence between them feel stark, almost fragile. 
She didn’t think about that. She didn’t want to think about anything.
They’d done this a hundred times before, after all. House parties, bars in town, late nights in the dorms when they dared each other to chug Red Bulls at 1 a.m. Always together. Always safe.
She didn’t even pause before unbuttoning her jeans. “Turn around,” she said, tone automatic, half a joke and half the usual rule.
Azzi snorted, but she obeyed, rolling her eyes as she faced the door, her thumbs hooking into her back pockets in that lazy, unbothered way. 
Paige focused on doing what she needed to do as fast as humanly possible, grimacing at the state of the toilet and muttering under her breath about people who couldn’t even clean before throwing a party.
When she flushed and adjusted her clothes, she caught Azzi’s reflection in the mirror over the sink. She was standing too still, her head bowed just slightly, curls brushing her shoulders. Something about it prickled under Paige’s skin.
She turned on the sink with a squeak, the water sputtering before running steady. The soap smelled cheap and medicinal. She scrubbed harder than she needed to. “Your turn,” she said over her shoulder, voice pitched lightly, like this was all fine.
Azzi didn’t move.
“Don’t need to,” she mumbled.
Paige frowned, glancing back, catching the stubborn line of her friend’s jaw. She forced her own voice to stay casual. “Az,” she tried, her heart thumping weirdly. “You good?”
Azzi’s head jerked up at her voice, eyes meeting Paige’s in the cracked old mirror. For a split second they were wide, startled, unguarded in a way Azzi never was. Then she snapped on a too-bright smile.
“Yeah. Fine.”
Paige didn’t buy it—but she didn’t call Azzi out, either. She rinsed her hands in silence, movements stiff, the air between them suddenly too loud. 
The paper towel scratched her skin as she dried off, then crumpled in her fist before she tossed it at the trash can.
When she turned around, Azzi was still there. Leaning against the wall now, phone in hand, but clearly not reading whatever was on the screen. Her thumb just dragged over the glass like it was something to do.
The music from the bar outside felt like it belonged to another world.
Azzi let out a breath. “Wait—my hands are actually sticky,” she muttered, eyes still averted. “Probably someone’s drink.” 
She brushed past Paige, their shoulders bumping as she moved toward the sink.
Paige’s skin sparked at the contact.
The space was small. Too small. 
Azzi stood right beside her at the sink, their arms touching, hips nearly aligned. Paige leaned back against the wall to give her room, even though there wasn’t any to give.
Azzi’s hair smelled like coconut and vanilla. Paige caught herself breathing it in.
Neither of them said anything.
Azzi washed her hands slowly, like she was stalling. Her brows were drawn, her expression unreadable, focused on the swirling soap and water like it held answers. 
Paige’s heart thudded hard, uneven in her chest.
Something was happening. Paige could feel it. And maybe—maybe Azzi did too.
She glanced at Azzi’s face in the mirror.
Their eyes met.
Paige didn’t look away. She couldn’t.
Azzi’s lashes flickered, but she didn’t back down either.
Paige’s tongue darted out to wet her dry lower lip, and she watched Azzi’s eyes track the movement before flicking back up.
The heat hit them both at once—sudden, stupid, impossible.
Paige felt her mouth go dry. She tried to speak, voice catching on the first syllable. “Azzi—”
Azzi tore her gaze away, shaking her head minutely like she was trying to dislodge the thought. She shut the sink off with a too-hard flick, the water spattering onto her wrists.
Paige blinked. The moment snapped like a taut rubber band.
Azzi snatched a crumpled paper towel and scrubbed her hands, eyes on the sink.
“Ready?” she mumbled, voice low, scratchy.
Paige’s mouth opened, closed. She nodded instead.
They both reached for the doorknob at the same time, fingers brushing.
Azzi froze.
So did Paige.
They were close enough now to feel each other’s shallow breathing, to see the dilation in the other’s eyes.
Somewhere below them, the party roared on, muffled and irrelevant.
Azzi’s fingers trembled slightly on the brass knob.
Paige felt her own breath stutter.
“Paige,” Azzi whispered, barely audible, like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
Paige felt something snap inside her.
“Yeah,” she rasped.
Azzi’s lips parted, breath shaky.
And then she just leaned in.
Their mouths crashed together in a clumsy, heated press of lips, no finesse, just confusion and need they hadn’t known how to admit.
It was short. Just a few seconds. But enough.
They both jerked back like they’d been burned.
Azzi’s eyes were huge, pupils blown wide. Paige’s lungs felt like they’d emptied all at once.
Silence roared between them, thick and heavy and undeniable.
Neither of them knew what the hell to say.
Azzi’s mouth dropped open, breath hitching. For a moment she just stared at Paige like she’d never seen her before. 
Her cheeks were flushed, lips wet and parted, eyes blown so dark it was impossible to tell where pupil ended and iris began. 
Then she blinked rapidly, coming back to herself with a visible shudder, and shook her head like she was trying to clear it.
“Oh my god,” she burst out, voice cracking painfully. “Shit—Paige. I—I didn’t mean—”
Paige was breathing like she’d run suicides. Her lungs burned. She could taste Azzi on her lips—sweet, sharp, and a little dizzying. 
Her brain was refusing to come up with any words that made sense. She felt her heart hammering so hard it hurt.
Azzi stumbled back half a step, hands lifted between them as if to hold Paige off, even though Paige hadn’t moved. Her fingers were trembling. She opened her mouth again and the apology spilled out in a panicked rush.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. That was—I don’t know why I did that. God, that was so fucking weird. I don’t want you to think—”
“Azzi.”
Paige’s voice was rough as gravel.
Azzi froze.
Paige sucked in another unsteady breath, trying to make sense of the chaos in her chest. She looked at Azzi—really looked at her—and something in her stomach twisted so hard it nearly dropped her to her knees.
Her friend. Her best friend. The girl she’d known since they were kids, who knew every secret that mattered, who laughed at her dumbest jokes, who’d been there for every win and every heartbreak. 
Azzi was standing there like she’d just been flayed open, raw and embarrassed, breathing like she couldn’t get enough air.
Paige’s own fingers twitched at her sides. She didn’t remember deciding to move. 
One second there was space between them, and the next her hands were on Azzi’s waist, pulling her back in, eliminating every inch of distance that had existed.
Azzi let out a tiny, wrecked noise—somewhere between a gasp and a sob—and Paige didn’t give her time to say anything else.
She kissed her again.
This time there was nothing accidental or startled about it. Paige crashed their mouths together with bruising force, swallowing Azzi’s shocked cry. 
She felt Azzi’s fingers clutch at her shoulders, scrabbling for purchase, dragging her closer, closer. 
Their teeth knocked once in their desperation before they both slowed, settling into something that was still hungry but less chaotic.
Paige angled her head and deepened the kiss, tongue brushing Azzi’s lower lip, coaxing a soft, breathy moan from her friend’s throat that went straight to Paige’s core. 
Azzi opened for her without hesitation, kissing her back like she’d been starved for it, like she’d been waiting her whole life.
They broke apart only when breathing became impossible, both of them gasping, foreheads pressed together. Paige’s fingers flexed hard against Azzi’s waist, and she realized she was shaking.
Azzi’s eyes were huge and unfocused, pupils swallowing the warm brown. She looked terrified and wild and like she might kiss Paige again at any second.
Paige licked her lips, tasting Azzi there. Her voice came out hoarse, barely recognizable.
“Azzi,” she whispered.
Azzi shuddered at her name. Her hands slid under the hem of Paige’s tee, palms hot against her back, fingers curling like she didn’t want to let go.
Paige’s stomach twisted with something electric and terrifying.
She glanced around the cramped bathroom, feeling the walls closing in on them with nowhere else to go, so she gripped Azzi’s waist and lifted her easily onto the narrow countertop. 
The old porcelain creaked faintly under the shift of weight. Azzi didn’t even flinch. Instead, she exhaled a shaky breath that trembled into a whimper and instinctively wrapped her legs around Paige’s back, hooking her ankles to pull her in even closer.
Paige pressed in, their hips meeting, her hands braced on either side of Azzi’s thighs as she kissed her again—slower this time, deliberate and thorough, tasting the last of Azzi’s startled laugh. 
Azzi melted at the contact, breath catching, her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair like she never wanted to let go.
When they finally pulled back, they didn’t go far. Azzi’s forehead rested against Paige’s, their noses brushing with every shaky exhale.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence was heavy, vibrating with all the things they couldn’t say yet.
Paige felt her own heart stuttering, threatening to tear itself apart. She swallowed hard, trying to make sense of what had just happened—what it meant—what it could mean.
But nothing coherent came.
Finally she forced her mouth to work, voice breaking.
“We should—”
Azzi’s breath hitched, and she let out a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob. She closed her eyes tight for a second before opening them again.
“Yeah,” she whispered back, voice wrecked. “We should go.”
Paige didn’t move. Couldn’t. Her fingers were still buried in Azzi’s shirt, holding her there like if she let go everything would shatter.
Azzi reached up and pressed her hand to Paige’s cheek, thumb brushing a smear of smudged mascara she hadn’t realized was there. Her touch was unbearably gentle.
“Paige,” she said again, more firmly this time. “We have to go.”
Paige sucked in a ragged breath. She felt like something inside her was being ripped open.
But she nodded. Slowly.
“Yeah,” she rasped.
They didn’t speak as Azzi gently hopped off the counter, fingers lingering on her wrist for one last second before falling away. She turned to the door, unlocking it with shaking fingers, and pulled it open.
Paige followed her out into the hall, blinking against the sudden brightness, the muffled thump of music from downstairs. She watched Azzi’s back, the set of her shoulders tight, like she was holding herself together with duct tape and prayer.
Paige forced herself to walk. To keep breathing.
They didn’t say anything.
They didn’t have to.
The silence between them was deafening.
By the time they got back to the group, Paige had let her arm drop, but the phantom warmth of Azzi’s waist still burned against her palm. 
She flexed her fingers like she was trying to shake it off, forcing a crooked smirk when Nika immediately turned and fixed them with an all-too-knowing stare.
“Well look who finally made it back,” Nika drawled, leaning heavily against the kitchen counter with a red Solo cup dangling from her fingers. 
She raised an eyebrow, her dark hair falling across one cheek in the too-messy-to-be-accidental way she’d perfected. “Thought you two got lost. Or distracted.”
Paige snorted, shooting her the finger with no heat. “Cute. Real original, twin.”
Azzi made a show of rolling her eyes, but the pink on her cheeks hadn’t fully faded. She busied herself straightening the hem of her black UConn hoodie, fingers worrying at a loose thread. 
She didn’t say anything, which was unusual enough that Caroline’s gaze flicked back and forth between them, narrowing slightly.
Caroline crossed her arms, smirking. “Uh huh. Well. We were just about to go find you, actually.” 
She gestured at her empty cup. “This keg is dead and Kenny’s trying to convince Jana to play beer pong with him like it’s the Olympics, so we were gonna dip.”
Paige forced a laugh she didn’t feel. “Good. This place blows anyway.”
Azzi’s eyes flicked to hers at that, grateful. She gave Paige the tiniest smile—private, conspiratorial. 
Paige felt something stupid and warm crawl up her neck at that smile, something she buried in the same pit where she shoved everything she didn’t want to examine too closely.
Ice drained her cup dramatically and dropped it in the trash. “Thank God. I need pizza and my bed in that order.”
Aaliyah gave them all her lazy grin. “We ordering it to the room? Or…?”
Paige cleared her throat, scratching at her jaw. “I’m just gon’ head back to the apartment. Nika, you crashing at Josh’s tonight?”
Nika raised a brow and shrugged. “Maybe. Why?”
Paige glanced at Azzi before she could stop herself. “Just…figuring out who’s going where.”
Caroline’s mouth curved. She didn’t say anything, but the look she gave Paige was nothing if not pointed. Paige tried to ignore it, shifting her weight from foot to foot like she was fifteen again.
“Yeah,” Azzi finally mumbled, voice low but steady. “I’ll just go with Paige. That okay?”
The words hung there for a beat too long.
Nika’s grin sharpened, but she didn’t tease. She just winked. “Cool. I’ll text you tomorrow, twin. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Caroline snorted, rolling her eyes. Aaliyah and Ice were snickering off to the side. 
Paige managed a weak glare that didn’t land. “Fuck off.”
They all laughed, the easy familiarity smoothing over the tension just enough to pass for normal. 
They all started shuffling for the door in a loose, loping herd of half-buzzed college athletes, nudging shoulders and chirping insults in that low, bone-deep way only teammates could.
Paige walked a half step behind Azzi. Watched the way her dark curls bounced against her back. Watched her fingers clench and unclench at her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them. 
Paige wanted to reach for her again so badly her fingers actually twitched.
She shoved her hands in her pockets instead.
Outside the air was colder, cutting through the stale beer stink and sweat of the house. Paige took a deep breath, filling her lungs with it, willing it to clear her head.
Azzi turned just slightly as they walked, shoulders brushing Paige’s. Their eyes met in the orange glow of the streetlights. Azzi’s pupils were still too big, dark swallowing brown, her lips still pink and a little swollen.
She didn’t say anything. Neither did Paige.
But they didn’t fall out of step with each other, either.
When they finally reached the door to the small athlete apartment building, Paige fumbled the keycard once before getting it right. She felt Azzi watching her then, but she didn’t look up.
Inside, the air was warmer, quieter.
Paige’s apartment was on the second floor, and they trudged up the narrow stairs in silence. The whole place smelled faintly of detergent and stale pizza—Nika’s idea of air freshener.
Paige unlocked her door and swung it open, stepping aside. “Go on,” she muttered, voice scratchy.
Azzi walked past her without a word. Paige watched the back of her hoodie ride up over her waistband, revealing just a sliver of skin at her waist. She swallowed hard, jaw clenching.
The apartment was dim, just the glow from the little lamp Nika had left on in the living room. The couch was a mess of tossed blankets and textbooks. A few stray water bottles were stacked on the coffee table like a sad trophy collection.
Azzi dropped her shoes by the door, finally exhaling in a tired rush. She rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding Paige’s eyes.
“Um,” Paige started, licking her lips. “You want… water or something?”
Azzi shook her head immediately. “Yeah, sure.”
Silence again.
Paige felt the weight of her keys in her hand before she remembered to set them on the little table by the door. She forced herself to take a steadying breath.
It shouldn’t have felt this weird.
They’d been here a hundred times.
Hell, Azzi’s spare toothbrush was in Paige’s bathroom.
But tonight the air between them felt too heavy. Electric.
Paige cleared her throat, scrubbing a hand down her face. “You wanna, uh… get ready for bed?” she offered, voice trying for normal. “Bathroom’s free.”
Azzi nodded stiffly. “Yeah. Thanks.”
She turned and headed down the short hallway toward the bathroom, her steps slow, deliberate.
Paige watched her go.
The second the door clicked shut, Paige let out a strangled noise and scrubbed both hands over her face.
Jesus.
Her lips still tingled.
That stupid, clumsy kiss.
Her body felt hot all over, a dull ache settling low in her belly she was trying really hard not to think about.
They were friends.
Best friends.
What the hell was that?
She let out a low breath, raking her fingers through her hair, before she shuffled to the fridge. She grabbed two waters automatically and stood there with the door open, cold air spilling over her ankles.
She tried to remember how to be normal.
How to be just friends.
When she heard the bathroom door open again, Paige quickly shut the fridge and turned, schooling her face.
Azzi had washed her face and changed into one of Paige’s old t-shirts. It was oversized, hitting mid-thigh, and her hair was damp around the edges from where she’d splashed water on her neck.
Paige’s mouth went dry.
Azzi wouldn’t meet her eyes. She just gave a tight, polite smile and padded over, grabbing the water Paige held out like they hadn’t just made out in someone’s bathroom like horny teenagers.
Paige lingered a second longer, then turned back into the bathroom to change. Her pants were stiff with dried sweat and spilled drinks, her shirt stretched awkwardly from where Azzi had grabbed it earlier. 
She peeled it all off, swapped it for a soft tee and old gym shorts, then splashed some cold water on her face just to steady herself.
By the time she stepped out, Azzi was already in the bedroom.
They’d shared that room a million times. Always platonic. Always easy. But tonight, the second Azzi sat on the edge of Paige’s bed, she hesitated.
Paige saw the way her friend’s fingers twisted in the hem of the borrowed shirt, saw her swallow hard.
Paige’s own heart thudded uncomfortably.
She walked over, set her water on the nightstand, and cleared her throat. “Scoot,” she muttered.
Azzi obeyed immediately, shifting so Paige could pull back the covers. They both climbed in, each careful to face away at first, pretending this was normal.
Paige could feel the heat radiating off Azzi’s body.
The way their legs brushed under the blanket.
Her own heart wouldn’t slow down.
It was silent except for their breathing.
Outside, a car drove by, headlights sweeping shadows over the walls.
Paige squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip so hard it almost hurt.
They lay like that for what felt like an hour.
Paige on her back, staring at the ceiling, trying to count the little glow-in-the-dark stars she and Nika had drunkenly stuck up there last semester.
Azzi lay on her side, back to Paige, one knee drawn up, breathing slow and deliberate.
But neither of them slept.
Paige could hear Azzi swallow. Could hear the soft, almost shaky exhale that gave her away.
Paige’s heart felt like it was trying to dig a hole through her ribs.
She flexed her fingers where they rested on the blanket, fighting the insane urge to just reach out. Touch her. Make it less weird. Or more.
She wasn’t sure which was worse.
Azzi’s hair was spread over Paige’s pillow, curls still damp, smelling like that coconut shampoo. Paige was dizzy with it, even from a foot away.
She tried to focus on breathing evenly.
In. Out.
Don’t think about her lips.
Don’t think about how soft they were.
Don’t think about how Azzi had kissed her back.
Jesus Christ.
A creak from the mattress as Azzi shifted, drawing in a deep breath.
“Are you awake?” she whispered, voice ragged.
Paige’s whole body went stiff. She wet her lips, debating lying, but then she sighed, voice cracking.
“Yeah. I’m up.”
Silence fell again, thicker than before.
Azzi let out another slow breath, her shoulders slumping.
Finally, she turned over, rolling onto her back. The mattress dipped, jostling Paige slightly. Paige turned her head to look at her, breath catching.
Azzi was staring at the ceiling now too.
She looked lost.
Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of the big UConn shirt she was drowning in.
Paige couldn’t take it.
“Azzi,” she rasped.
Azzi blinked, eyes flicking over. Their gazes met and held.
“What the fuck was that?” Azzi blurted, voice cracking halfway through.
Paige let out a laugh that sounded like it was being dragged from her chest. It wasn’t amused. Just... defeated.
“Okay. So we’re just gonna dive right in, huh?”
Azzi’s eyes flashed. “Um, yeah? How can we not?”
Paige scrubbed a hand over her face, groaning. “Jesus, Azzi. I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”
Azzi sat up slightly on her elbow, hair falling around her face, eyes shining in the dark. “You kissed me first. At the party. Paige. You kissed me in front of, like, everyone.”
Paige winced. “Yeah. I know. I’m... sorry.”
Azzi blinked. “Why?”
Paige’s mouth opened. Then closed. She shifted onto her side to face Azzi, her knees bumping Azzi’s under the blankets.
“I don’t know. It was... impulsive. He wouldn’t leave you alone. You looked annoyed. I couldn’t think of anything else to get you out of there.”
Azzi’s eyes searched hers, dark and fathomless. “So that’s all it was?”
Paige’s chest ached. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “It was just supposed to be an out. I didn’t... I didn’t think it through.”
Azzi swallowed, biting her lower lip so hard it went white.
Silence beat between them, thick with confusion, with want, with fear.
Paige’s voice cracked when she spoke next.
“But you kissed me. In the bathroom.”
Azzi’s face flamed red even in the low light. She sucked in a shaky breath. “Yeah. I did.”
Paige’s eyes bored into her. “Why?”
Azzi’s mouth opened. Closed. She let out a strangled noise, flopping back onto the pillow with a dull thud.
“Jesus, Paige. I don’t know.”
Paige watched her chest rise and fall. Watched her swallow.
Azzi’s voice cracked as she tried to explain, her words tumbling out in fits and starts like she could barely keep up with the messy thoughts tangling in her head. 
She clenched the blanket in her fist, eyes darting away, then back to Paige with something raw and unsteady. 
“You kissed me first,” she admitted, her voice so quiet it almost didn’t make it across the small space between them. 
“And I couldn’t stop thinking about it. My head was all… loud. Like it wouldn’t shut up. And then we were in that stupid bathroom. And you were so close. And I just…” She broke off, chest heaving, like finishing the sentence would be too much.
Paige felt something heavy and jagged lodge itself behind her ribs at the confession. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d wanted to hear it until now. 
Her own voice felt like it scraped her throat raw when she spoke, brittle and ruined. “Yeah,” she rasped, breath shaking. “Same.”
Azzi blinked, eyes wide and liquid in the dim light. The air between them felt like it thickened and pulsed with something heavy, their silence stretching out but never comfortable. 
Paige watched the way Azzi’s tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, the skin glistening, trembling with nerves she wasn’t bothering to hide anymore. 
Her hair spilled over her shoulder in soft, dark curls, catching on the pillow, framing her face like some half-lit portrait Paige couldn’t stop staring at.
Azzi inhaled sharply, like she was bracing herself. “Paige…” she whispered, and it wasn’t just her name—it was a question, a plea, a warning all at once.
Paige swallowed hard, throat clicking, her pulse roaring in her ears. She couldn’t look away from Azzi’s mouth even if she wanted to. Her voice came out low, almost broken. “Azzi.”
Azzi’s breath hitched at the sound, her whole body tensing like Paige had reached out and physically touched her. 
They stared at each other, caught in that space between wanting and terror, both of them breathing in ragged, unsteady pulls like they’d just sprinted drills back-to-back in practice. 
Paige felt her grip on restraint slipping, fraying, unraveling entirely.
She didn’t think. Couldn’t.
She moved, closing the small gap between them in a rough, desperate surge, needing to erase the distance before she had time to regret it. 
And Azzi didn’t hesitate—didn’t even blink—before surging up to meet her halfway, lips crashing together in a kiss that felt like it had been building for years.
Paige’s fingers tangled in Azzi’s hair, pulling, desperate. Azzi moaned into her mouth, clutching Paige’s shirt so hard it bunched in her fists.
Paige rolled them, hovering over her, pressing them down into the mattress. Azzi’s legs parted instinctively, letting Paige settle between them.
They broke for air, gasping, foreheads pressed together, noses brushing.
Paige’s voice was wrecked. “Az, I can’t keep kissing you.”
“If we keep doing this, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”
Azzi whimpered, eyes so dark Paige could drown in them. She wrapped her legs around Paige’s hips, dragging her closer.
“What if I don’t want you to stop?”
Paige made a broken sound, grabbing Azzi’s chin, forcing her to meet her eyes.
“Say it,” she demanded, voice shaking. “Azzi. Say it.”
Azzi’s breath hitched, eyes huge and shining.
“I want this. I want you, Paige.”
Paige felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her pulse roared in her ears. She blinked at Azzi, eyes burning, heart squeezing so tight it hurt.
God, she wanted her.
But the words lodged in her throat, thick with fear she hadn’t even admitted to herself yet. 
She felt her hand tremble against Azzi’s waist. “Azzi…” Her voice cracked. “This… we’re friends. Best friends. If we do this—”
She swallowed hard, shaking her head a little like she could dislodge the panic. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Azzi’s expression softened, so achingly tender it made Paige’s chest ache. She lifted one hand and cupped Paige’s cheek, thumb brushing away the single tear Paige hadn’t even realized fell.
“You’re not gonna lose me.” Her voice was quiet, sure. “Paige. Look at me.”
Paige dragged her gaze up, meeting those deep, dark eyes that had always been her anchor.
Azzi’s voice dropped, husky with want but steady with conviction. “I’ve been yours since I was fifteen. I’m not going anywhere.”
Paige made a tiny, broken noise. Something between a laugh and a sob. She let out a shuddering breath, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “Azzi, I want you so bad.”
Azzi’s lips curved in the ghost of a smile, eyes glinting wet. “Then have me.”
Paige shattered.
She crashed their mouths back together, swallowing Azzi’s answering moan, hands tightening with something possessive, desperate, like she was trying to pull Azzi inside her own skin.
And then there was no more talking.
Just hands. Mouths. Clothes hitting the floor.
Azzi’s breath was hot against Paige’s lips, fast and shaky, and Paige couldn’t tell if it was fear or want making her tremble.
She braced one hand on the mattress beside Azzi’s head, the other cupping her cheek with startling gentleness, her thumb brushing the soft skin beneath Azzi’s eye.
Azzi blinked up at her, lashes wet. She looked so open. So unguarded.
It undid Paige completely.
“Azzi,” she whispered, voice cracking like glass.
Azzi swallowed, her throat bobbing. She didn’t look away.
Paige leaned in and kissed her—not like before, not rushed or frantic or trying to drown out the confusion—but slow. Careful. Like she was memorizing the shape of Azzi’s mouth.
Azzi made a small, wounded noise, her fingers twisting in the hem of Paige’s shirt.
Paige felt it like a punch in the heart. She pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing her nose against Azzi’s.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Azzi as she stood to take off the last of her clothes, fingers fumbling a little in her haste. 
It wasn’t new, being half-dressed around each other—they’d shared countless locker rooms, hotel rooms, late-night study sessions where they crashed in sports bras and shorts. 
But this? This was new.
This was Paige standing at the foot of her own bed, heart hammering, breath stuttering as she took in all of Azzi. 
Not a glimpse, not a quick change of clothes. But Azzi offering herself—every warm, flushed inch, bare and vulnerable. 
Her dark skin glowing in the lamplight, the soft swell of her breasts rising and falling with uneven breaths. Her hair was wild, curling in disarray on Paige’s pillow. Her lips were kiss-bruised and wet.
Paige felt the breath punch out of her chest. Her mouth went dry. She’d known Azzi was beautiful. She’d known it forever. 
But she’d never seen her like this. Not like something sacred. Not like something she wanted to devour.
Azzi’s gaze met hers and didn’t waver, though her cheeks were a deep, telling red. Her eyes flicked lower—taking Paige in just as shamelessly. 
Paige wasn’t immune to it. She felt suddenly too big for her own skin, aware of every hard-earned muscle, the taut lines of her abs flexing with each shaky breath. 
She watched Azzi’s eyes go heavy-lidded as they followed the slope of her shoulders, the play of her biceps as Paige shifted.
Paige swallowed hard. She’d stripped in front of Azzi a thousand times for games, ice baths, late-night laundry swaps. 
But not like this. Not shaking. Not wanting.
Azzi licked her lips, her voice cracking just a little when she finally spoke. “Paige…”
Paige’s hands trembled at her sides. She wanted to reach out and cover Azzi up, protect her from the chill of the room, from the weight of this moment. But she also wanted to touch. Everywhere.
She exhaled unsteadily, voice raw. “You’re… you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Azzi’s eyes fluttered, lashes lowering as a shiver ran over her exposed skin. She didn’t hide. Didn’t cover herself. Just looked right back at Paige with that kind of hungry, awed wonder that made Paige feel split open.
When Paige hesitated, Azzi’s hand lifted, beckoning her forward. That simple, trusting invitation broke something in Paige.
She climbed carefully between Azzi’s open thighs, the mattress shifting under them. The moment she was close enough, Azzi’s hands rose to cup her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. 
Paige leaned down and kissed her, slow and deep, lips pressing and sliding as their noses bumped. She felt Azzi exhale shakily against her mouth, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair.
Paige’s hand roamed, gliding over Azzi’s ribs, feeling her shiver and gasp at the contact. She palmed Azzi’s breast gently, thumbing the nipple until it stiffened, earning a soft, desperate moan. 
Paige broke the kiss just to watch Azzi react, eyes half-lidded, mouth falling open as her back arched slightly off the bed. 
Paige couldn’t resist ducking down, taking the hardening nipple into her mouth, sucking slow and firm until Azzi whimpered.
Azzi’s hands twisted in the sheets, knuckles white.
“Paige,” she gasped, voice strangled.
Paige lifted her head, panting. “Yeah?” she rasped, voice cracking with need.
Azzi swallowed, dark eyes glinting with heat and something like fear. But she didn’t look away. She licked her lips.
“More.”
Paige felt it all the way down to her spine. She kissed Azzi hard, teeth clashing, tongues sliding together wetly. 
She let one hand drift down Azzi’s stomach, feeling every tiny tremor of muscle, pausing at her hip as if to give her a final out. 
Azzi only pushed her hips up, breath breaking in a pleading whine.
Paige’s fingers slid even lower, finding Azzi wet and hot, slick in a way that made Paige groan helplessly. 
She felt Azzi jolt, a strangled gasp tearing from her throat, legs falling open wider. Paige pressed a slow, testing circle around Azzi’s clit, watching her eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open as she moaned.
“Jesus,” Paige breathed, her own thighs clenching.
She pushed a finger in, slow and careful, feeling Azzi stretch around her, so warm and tight it made Paige’s vision swim. 
Azzi made a sound Paige had never heard before—high and desperate—and Paige felt her entire body tense, her hips jerking reflexively.
Paige whispered against her cheek, voice thick and trembling. “Okay?”
Azzi blinked up at her, lips wet, breathing ragged.
“Yeah,” she gasped. “God, yeah.”
Paige added a second finger, easing it in while Azzi whimpered, hands flying to clutch at Paige’s shoulders. 
Paige kissed her again, swallowing her noises, her own hips rocking involuntarily with every thrust of her fingers. She set a rhythm, slow but deep, curling just right, and Azzi started to unravel.
Azzi’s nails dug into Paige’s back, breath hitching on every exhale.
Paige could barely breathe. She watched Azzi’s face, watched every flutter of lashes, every shake of her bottom lip, feeling Azzi tighten around her fingers.
“Fuck—Azzi,” she rasped. “You’re so perfect.”
Azzi moaned, breath catching. Paige pressed her forehead to Azzi’s temple.
“Can I—” Paige could barely get the words out, her voice raw. “Can I taste you?”
Azzi’s whole body shuddered. Her eyes flew open, wide and glassy. She nodded frantically, biting her lip so hard it went white.
“Yes,” she managed. “Please. Paige—please.”
Paige didn’t need more encouragement. She withdrew carefully, kissing Azzi breathless before starting a path down her body. 
She kissed over the swell of Azzi’s breasts, the line of her ribs, the dip of her navel, paying homage to every inch. 
Azzi’s hands were everywhere—her hair, her shoulders, clenching and releasing, her breath growing ragged.
Paige settled between Azzi’s shaking thighs and looked up one last time. Azzi was flushed to the chest, breathing in broken gasps, pupils blown wide with want. 
Paige smirked, lowering her mouth to press a slow, wet kiss to Azzi’s inner thigh.
When her tongue finally found Azzi’s clit, Azzi let out a strangled cry that echoed off the walls.
Paige moaned in response, lapping and sucking, the taste of Azzi making her dizzy. She pressed her fingers back in, setting a deep, firm rhythm as her tongue worked relentless circles.
Azzi lost it completely. She bucked hard against Paige’s mouth, whimpering, begging without words.
“Fuck—Paige—oh god—”
Paige pulled back just enough to rasp, voice wrecked, “How have we never done this before?”
Azzi actually let out a broken laugh that dissolved into a sobbing moan. “You—never asked—”
Paige chuckled darkly, diving back in with renewed focus. She felt Azzi clenching around her fingers, her thighs shaking uncontrollably. Paige sucked hard, fingers curling just right.
Azzi screamed her name, coming hard, body convulsing, nails leaving angry red lines on Paige’s shoulders.
Paige slowed, working her through it, licking gently as Azzi trembled and whimpered, finally going boneless.
Paige kissed her way back up, tasting sweat and Azzi’s orgasm on her lips. She hovered over Azzi’s flushed, wrecked face, brushing sweaty curls away from her forehead.
Azzi blinked up at her, breathing in short, broken gasps. Paige kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips.
“You okay?” Paige whispered, voice so hoarse it hurt.
Azzi blinked slowly. Then she smiled, small and real, voice weak.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Jesus, Paige.”
Paige let out a ragged laugh, pressing their foreheads together. But even as Azzi tried to catch her breath, Paige squirmed, whining.
“Azzi,” she gasped, voice cracking. “Please. I need—fuck—I need you.”
Azzi’s dazed eyes sharpened. She seemed to realize at once that Paige was shaking.
Azzi’s hands slid to Paige’s hips, rolling them until Paige was on her back. She straddled her carefully, leaning down so their noses brushed.
“What do you need?” she whispered, voice low and rough.
Paige moaned, eyes fluttering shut.
“Your fingers,” she panted. “But stay close. I want—” She broke off, shaking her head.
Azzi pressed her lips to Paige’s. “Tell me.”
Paige swallowed hard.
“I want you on me. Your face close. I want to feel you.”
Azzi’s eyes went dark. She kissed Paige slow, wet, and deep.
Azzi settled between Paige’s spread thighs, leaning over her so their chests brushed. She slid a hand down, fingers finding Paige soaked and pulsing. Paige jerked, gasping, hips canting up.
Azzi rubbed teasing circles and Paige sobbed.
“Please—no teasing,” she begged. “Please, Azzi.”
Azzi’s mouth curved against Paige’s throat.
“Okay, baby,” she whispered.
She pushed two fingers in deep, feeling the slick heat of her, watching Paige’s eyes flutter and roll back, pupils blown wide with raw need. 
Paige let out a strangled cry that wasn’t even a word, fingers digging into Azzi’s back like she needed something to hold her to earth. 
Azzi bit her lip, feeling the tremor in Paige’s body vibrate into her own chest.
Azzi set a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust measured, curling her fingers just so, feeling Paige clench around her. 
Paige arched beneath her, chest rising sharply with every shuddering inhale, the flush high and blooming across her collarbones. 
Azzi couldn’t look away from her face—the way her lashes trembled, the way her mouth fell open on broken, gasping moans. 
Paige was so raw, so unguarded, her usually confident smirk replaced with something so vulnerable it made Azzi ache.
She leaned closer, foreheads brushing, breathing the same stuttering air, watching every twitch of emotion chase across Paige’s features. 
Her free hand slid up to cup Paige’s jaw, thumb brushing her flushed cheek with aching tenderness, grounding her, holding her in this moment. 
She felt the tears that gathered at the corners of Paige’s eyes as she tried to hold back the sobs that built in her chest. Azzi kissed her temple, her hairline, whispered for her to let go, that she was here, that she wouldn’t leave.
“Come on, Paige,” she murmured. “Let me have you. Let go.”
Paige finally broke. She sobbed her name like it was the only word she knew. 
Azzi kissed her through it, slow and gentle, swallowing every ragged sound, every desperate plea, fingers never stopping their steady, careful rhythm as she gave Paige everything she had to give.
Azzi slowed, eased out carefully, then collapsed on top of her, both of them shaking, panting.
They didn’t speak for long minutes. Just breathing.
Finally Paige let out a cracked laugh, pressing her face into Azzi’s hair.
“Holy fuck.”
Azzi snorted wetly, her voice muffled.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
Paige felt Azzi’s breathing start to slow against her chest, warm exhales brushing the damp skin of her collarbone. 
She didn’t loosen her grip. She didn’t dare. One arm banded tight around Azzi’s back, the other hand gently combing through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of her neck.
“Hey,” she rasped softly, her voice torn and ruined from all the groaning and gasping, from saying her name like a prayer. She pressed her lips to Azzi’s temple, lingering there. “You okay?”
Azzi hummed, too tired to lift her head, her cheek pressed against Paige’s collarbone. She shifted just enough to hook a leg tighter over Paige’s hip, as if refusing even an inch of space.
“Yeah,” she whispered, voice raspy and worn. “Better than okay.”
Paige felt a shaky breath leave her. She forced herself to keep stroking Azzi’s hair, her fingers gentle, careful, even though every nerve in her body felt raw. “Need anything? Water? Food?”
Azzi let out a sleepy huff of laughter, muffled against Paige’s chest. “God, you’re such a mom right now.”
Paige snorted, though the sound caught in her throat like a sob. She pressed another kiss to Azzi’s hair, tightening her arm so their ribs were pressed together. 
“Yeah, well. Gotta make sure you’re good.” Her voice cracked at the end.
Azzi went quiet. Paige could feel her breathing, slow and deep, the rise and fall of her chest syncing with Paige’s own.
Finally Azzi whispered, voice thick and sleepy, “We’re gonna have to talk about this, you know.”
Paige closed her eyes, her hand stilling in Azzi’s hair. Her heart thudded painfully. “Yeah.” She swallowed, feeling the exhaustion creeping in, heavy and relentless. “Yeah. We will.”
“Tomorrow?” Azzi mumbled, sounding like she was already halfway asleep.
Paige’s mouth curved, bittersweet. She blinked hard, fighting the burn behind her eyelids. She pressed one last kiss into Azzi’s curls and let her eyes close.
“Tomorrow,” she promised.
Silence fell. Heavy. Safe.
Outside, the campus party was probably still raging, music pounding behind frat house walls, but in that cramped little room it was quiet except for their breathing. 
Their limbs tangled. Their hearts beating out this brand-new, terrifying, perfect thing they’d just let loose.
Neither of them said “I love you.” Not tonight.
But Paige could feel it in the way Azzi’s fingers flexed on her back even in sleep.
And she knew she’d say it in the morning.
891 notes · View notes
chrissssssmut · 24 days ago
Note
Tomboy gaeul and yujin x shy reader
NEXT DOOR HEAT
Yujin & Gaeul x Male Reader
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It always started the same way.
You stepped out onto your porch to grab the mail, maybe water the plants, maybe get a little sunlight—and there they were. Gaeul and Yujin. Both dressed like they belonged in someone else’s boyband: basketball shorts, tight tanks, caps turned backwards, and grins that made your heart stop.
"Yo, he's out again," Yujin would whistle, elbowing Gaeul.
"Lookin’ all soft again," Gaeul added, licking her lips dramatically. "You sure you’re not just beggin’ for it?"
You never had the guts to respond. Just bowed your head, face burning, gripping the mail like it would save you from drowning. They laughed every time. Not in a cruel way, no—but in a way that told you they knew they had power over you.
And they did.
They were your next-door neighbors. They partied hard, drank harder, and every night you’d hear loud music and even louder moans leaking through the thin walls. You didn’t even know which one of them it was—maybe both. The thought alone kept you up.
That night was different.
It was late—close to midnight—when the doorbell rang. You blinked, still in your hoodie and pajama pants, clutching a hot bowl of instant ramen. You weren’t expecting anyone.
When you opened the door, you nearly dropped the bowl.
Yujin and Gaeul stood there, swaying slightly, cheeks flushed from alcohol. Yujin had ditched her usual snapback, her dark hair falling loose across her forehead. Gaeul’s tank was crooked, collar falling off one shoulder. Both looked warm, drunk, and absolutely too comfortable standing at your door like that.
"Hey, baby," Yujin slurred with a lazy grin.
"Our place is full of throw-up and regrets," Gaeul added, then hiccuped. "Can we crash here? Just tonight?"
You hesitated. "I… uh… your place is right next—"
"Yeah, but we want you," Yujin smirked. “I mean, your couch.”
"...Right," you muttered, stepping aside, cheeks burning. “I can make soup?”
They collapsed onto your couch while you heated up the broth and scrambled for clean blankets. The air was tense—heavier than before—and every time you glanced back at them, you caught them whispering, watching you like wolves at a petting zoo.
Eventually, they quieted down. You set out water, turned off the lights, and retreated to your room.
That peace didn’t last long.
2:13 AM.
A soft knock on your door. Then it cracked open.
Yujin peeked in, one arm leaning against the frame. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, but sharp.
"You awake?"
You sat up instantly. "Y-Yeah."
She walked in without asking, barefoot, tank top riding high over her toned abs. She sat beside you, the bed dipping beneath her weight.
"Couldn't sleep," she murmured. "Too quiet in here. And too damn frustrating."
You blinked. "Frustrating?"
Yujin looked at you, smile curving slow and wicked. "You really don’t get it, huh?"
"...Get what?"
She leaned in, breath tickling your neck. “Me and Gaeul… we always wondered. What you taste like. What kind of noises you make when you lose control.”
Your eyes went wide.
She chuckled. "You’re cute, shy boy. Real cute. Always looking like a kicked puppy when we tease you."
Your heart raced. You were already hard under the sheets, shame curling in your stomach.
Yujin noticed. Of course she did.
“Fuck,” she whispered, biting her lip. “You're already hard, aren’t you? That easy?”
Then she stood, turned toward the door, and called softly, “Gaeul. Get in here.”
Moments later, Gaeul stepped in, rubbing her eyes. “What—Yujin, seriously, it’s like—oh.” Her gaze dropped to your lap. Then she smirked. “Took you long enough.”
They both crawled onto your bed.
You backed up instinctively until your head hit the wall, but it didn’t help. Gaeul was crawling up on your left, Yujin on your right.
“Hey,” Yujin said, tilting your chin with her fingers. “You gonna stop us?”
You swallowed hard.
“…No.”
Gaeul grinned. “Good.”
Yujin didn’t ask for permission. She just grabbed your jaw, firm and possessive, and tilted your head toward her like she was claiming property. Her lips brushed yours once—light, taunting—before she smashed her mouth into you with messy, wet hunger. Her tongue pushed past your lips like it had every right to be there, sliding over yours, slow and slick.
“Mmph—” you whimpered against her mouth, but she just kissed you harder, swallowing every breath like she wanted to suffocate you with lust.
Her hand cradled the back of your head, keeping you still while her other snuck under your shirt, her fingertips grazing your chest like she was memorizing it.
You barely noticed Gaeul slinking beneath the covers until a warm palm wrapped around your cock, stroking you in slow, lazy pumps.
“Oh, fuck,” she muttered under her breath, voice rough and low. “He’s already dripping. What a filthy little thing…”
She pulled the covers down and your erection stood tall, flushed red and pulsing, glistening with precum. Gaeul’s mouth curled into a grin.
"Yujin," she said, her voice teasing, "you didn’t tell me he was packing."
Yujin finally pulled away from your lips, breath hot against your cheek, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths. She smirked. "He hides it like a good little virgin."
“I’m gonna ruin this,” Gaeul whispered, and without warning, her mouth engulfed your cock.
Your back arched instantly.
Her lips slid down slow, impossibly slow, inch by inch as she took you in like she wanted to savor your suffering. Her short hair brushed against your thighs, tickling your skin as she worked you in and out of her throat with practiced control. You felt her tongue press flat against the underside, tracing a slick line from base to tip every time she pulled up just to spit on it again.
“S-Stop—wait—” you gasped, fists clenched in the sheets. "I-I can’t—"
Gaeul moaned around your cock, and the vibration sent electricity down your spine.
Yujin chuckled at the sight. She reached down, hooked her thumbs beneath her tank top, and peeled it off in one smooth motion—no bra. Her tits were small but perky, nipples already stiff as she crawled over your chest, straddling you.
“Don’t stop,” she purred, leaning in to lick the edge of your ear. “I wanna hear how wrecked you sound.”
Gaeul popped off your cock with a wet gasp, her lips slick and swollen. “He’s so sensitive… I love it.”
Your entire body trembled as they began stripping you completely. You barely even noticed your hoodie disappearing, your pajama pants tugged down, your boxers tossed aside like trash.
Yujin didn’t waste time. She climbed up to your face and lowered her soaked pussy onto your mouth, hips grinding instantly as she moaned.
“C’mon, baby,” she whispered, fingers curling into your hair. “Eat it. You know you want to.”
You obeyed.
The taste was rich, tangy, intoxicating. She rocked her hips against your tongue, dragging her slick folds across your face like you were just another toy. Her moans were loud, vulgar, with no attempt to be quiet.
Meanwhile, Gaeul went right back to your cock—this time deeper, faster, her throat clenching each time she forced you down. She started using her hand to stroke the base while her mouth focused on the tip, her tongue swirling, teasing the slit.
You were on the edge. You could feel it—the fire pooling low, your toes curling, your breath gone—
But Yujin pulled off.
Gaeul did too.
“Not yet,” Yujin grinned, crawling down your chest. “Now it’s our turn.”
She lifted herself above your cock and grabbed it, guiding it to her entrance. You could feel the heat—how wet she was—before she even began to sink down.
She didn’t go slow.
Yujin slammed down on your cock, crying out as your length filled her. Her pussy clamped around you tight, dripping wet, every inch of her velvety walls dragging on you like a drug.
“Fuuuuuck,” she groaned, throwing her head back. “I knew it—I fucking knew you’d be this good—”
She started riding you instantly, hard and deep, her ass slapping against your thighs. You grabbed her hips out of instinct, trying to steady her, but she leaned forward and slapped your hands away.
“Don’t help,” she smirked. “Just lay there and take it.”
Your mind was blank. Every thrust knocked the breath out of your lungs. She was using your cock like it belonged to her—and in that moment, it did.
Then you heard Gaeul moan beside you, voice rough and needy.
"Don't forget me, baby," she said, spreading her ass wide with two fingers. “You know I like it rougher.”
She reached for her bag—pulling out a bottle of lube, shaking it like a threat.
“Always ready,” she smirked.
Yujin pulled off, panting and red-faced, and gave Gaeul a nod.
“Tag team.”
You barely had a second to catch your breath before Gaeul climbed over you. She coated your cock with lube, stroking it slow, before positioning herself over it.
“Don’t be gentle,” she growled. “Stretch me.”
And with that, she lowered her ass onto your cock, groaning deep in her chest as you sank into her tightest hole. She was clenching, trembling, breath ragged.
“Oh fuck—yes—just like that, stretch it open—”
You could barely move. The pressure was insane—tight, hot, pulsing. Every movement had Gaeul shaking, digging her nails into your chest as she rocked back on you harder.
Yujin crawled back up and leaned in, playing with Gaeul’s tits while she kissed you again—sloppy, wet, tongue dominating yours with every roll of their hips.
“You’re ours now,” Yujin breathed into your mouth. “No more hiding. No more pretending you don’t want this.”
"I-I never—"
"You didn’t have to. Your cock told us everything."
Gaeul came first—her ass squeezing you like a vice, back arched, body shaking as she moaned your name. She didn’t stop moving even as she came, riding you through her orgasm like she wanted to wring every drop out of you.
Then Yujin pushed Gaeul off gently, climbed back on, and took you into her pussy again—even tighter after the break, slick and hungry.
"Fuck me—ruin me—just fuck the cum out of me—"
You did.
Your orgasm exploded—harder than you thought possible—as you came inside her, her pussy milking you while she whispered filth into your ear.
You blacked out for a second. Maybe longer.
In the afterglow, tangled between two warm, naked bodies, you whispered, “So… you’re staying the night again?”
Gaeul chuckled sleepily. “Yeah. And every other night too.”
Yujin kissed your cheek. “Told you. We wanted a taste.”
She grabbed your softening cock and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Next time, we’ll bring our other friends.”
You weren’t going to get any sleep.
And honestly?
You didn’t want any.
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totallywoman · 4 months ago
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book stuff that i will never get over being cut from the movies:
•the appalachian accent of the characters
•madge
•katniss and peeta helping clean up haymitch on the train
•katniss recognizing lavinia
•katniss bawling her eyes out after her private training session
•katniss literally almost dying of thirst in the games
•rue and katniss’s relationship
•the extent of peeta’s injury
•SASSY👏PEETA👏MELLARK👏👏👏👏
•the conversations between peeta and katniss in the cave
•not using a magic cream to magically heal peetas leg like hello
•the mutts with the eyes of the tributes
•cato suffering all night
•peeta almost dying on top of the cornucopia
•katniss going insane on the hovercraft as they work on peeta
•PEETA LOSING HIS LEG
•peeta finding out it was an act
•the frequency of katniss and peeta’s nights on the victory tour train
•plutarch’s mockingjay watch
•madge and katniss’s friendship
•katniss and peeta’s bantering relationship
•bonnie and twill
•katniss breaking her heel and peeta putting her to bed
•the time katniss and peeta spent together working on the plant book during her recovery (this is where their relationship changed. i am forever bitter)
•katniss getting drunk and her breakdown after the news about the quell
•peeta coaching haymitch and katniss like careers
•katniss and peeta watching haymitch’s games (i understand this would have been hard bc there is a whole new movie coming about but shhhhhh)
•darius
•THE FREAKING ROOFTOP SCENE LIKE ARE WE SERIOUS???
•finnick’s relationship with mags and mourning her
•the way the fog left their skin all blistered so they had to put dark ointment all over themselves and looked crazy
•katniss and finnick scaring peeta by waking him up with the ointment
•the PASSION between katniss and peeta
•katniss raking her fingernails across haymitch’s face and then rage slamming her head on the table after finding out peeta was captured
•the state of katniss’s mental deterioration in 13
•katniss’s prep team being tortured
•”i’m only human, odair”
•katniss and finnick’s bonding
•delly being the first one to talk to peeta (bc why did they use PRIM??? the point was to find someone with no connection to katniss and they chose PRIM???)
•peeta listening to “the hanging tree” and asking about burdock
•katniss and johanna rooming together
•peeta frosting annie and finnick’s wedding cake
•peeta flirting with annie and taking digs at katniss in the cafeteria
•more of tigris
•katniss going completely mute after prim dies
•katniss biting into peeta’s hand while he stops her from taking the nightlock pill (this is such an important moment in their relationship)
•katniss and peeta’s burns
•katniss’s trial while being incredibly inclined to 💀
•katniss singing during her trial!!!!! bc it’s not over until the mockingjay sings
•peeta’s stay at the capitol mental institution
•katniss and peeta GROWING back together (IT’S SLOW!!!!)
•i love that they used jen’s nephews don’t get me wrong but i wish they included katniss and peeta’s daughter
•lucy gray singing the valley song in the zoo
•the tribute’s being forced to walk in the procession at arachne’s funeral
•the tribute who killed her being suspended by a crane
•maude ivory discovering mayfair’s body
•coriolanus completely taking advantage of the plinths after sejanus’ exucution
please add more!!!!!
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luna-azzurra · 3 months ago
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10 Secrets Your Character Is Desperately Hiding (and Probably Will Until They Die or Get Drunk Enough to Confess)
╰ They moonlight as an absolutely awful stand-up comedian.
They don’t just tell bad jokes, they commit to them. We’re talking full costume, dollar-store wigs, a fake name like “Chuckles McSuffer,” and punchlines that make people groan so hard their souls briefly exit their bodies. And....they love it. The stage is the only place they feel weirdly free… which is why no one in their real life can ever know. Ever.
╰ They can dance like their life depends on it, but they never do it in public.
We’re talking footwork that would make a music video jealous. Rhythm in their bones. But they’ve decided the world isn’t ready. Or maybe they’re not. So they only dance alone in the kitchen at 2 a.m. Or in the middle of a supermarket aisle when they think no one’s looking. And when they do get caught? “Nope. That wasn’t me. That was… a spasm. Mind your business.”
╰ They’re secretly freakishly good at imitating animals.
Birds. Dogs. Goats. Snakes. They’ve got the sounds, the gestures, the whole weird little zoo living inside them. It’s the kind of skill you don’t admit to having because it’s impossible to explain how it started or why you’re so good at it. They only let it out when alone… or, let’s be real, when they’re trying to impress someone and immediately regret it.
╰ They are the office prankster. And no one suspects a thing.
Every missing stapler, glitter bomb, whoopee cushion, and mysteriously replaced family photo? That’s them. The mild-mannered barista/accountant/space pilot you’d never suspect. They’ve got an entire prank calendar hidden in their sock drawer and a spreadsheet of targets and outcomes. But they also have boundaries. No emotional damage. Just chaos.
╰ They have a full-on karaoke alter ego.
Different name. Different voice. Whole new personality. They sneak off to karaoke bars in the next town over wearing sunglasses indoors and croon power ballads like their soul is trapped in a 2005 romcom montage. Their go-to number is “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Their real friends have no idea. And if they ever found out? This character would simply evaporate.
╰ They collect the weirdest sh*t you’ve ever seen.
Not stamps. Not coins. Try: novelty rubber ducks. Ugly fridge magnets. Cursed porcelain dolls. Empty chip bags from every country they’ve visited. Their closet is one shelf away from being a museum of “What Even Is This.” No one knows. No one must know. It brings them joy. It’s their version of peace. And yeah, it’s a little creepy. But it’s theirs.
╰ They cannot cook to save their life. Like, not even toast.
They once set a salad on fire. The microwave fears them. Every “simple recipe” turns into a crime scene. But instead of admitting it, they just… lie. Constantly. “Oh yeah, I made that!” (They did not. Their neighbor did. And their neighbor swore never to speak of it again.) They’ve mastered the art of deflection, distraction, and showing up with “store-bought but plated nicely.”
╰ They live their life by a bunch of completely nonsensical superstitions.
Never wear green on Wednesdays. If a pigeon looks at you sideways, cancel your plans. Salt must be thrown over the right shoulder or the demons will know. They’ve got a ritual for everything, from writing emails to picking socks. But no one knows they believe this stuff, because they make it look casual. Strategic coincidence. That’s the game.
╰ They throw underground dance parties in their basement. Alone. In costume.
Disco ball? Check. Fog machine? Obviously. Elaborate themed playlists? You bet. Their Tuesday nights are sacred: just them, their playlist called “Sad but Funky,” and a new costume every week. No one suspects. Not the roommates. Not the neighbors. If anyone ever found out, they’d lie and say it was for a friend’s child’s birthday. Every week. Sure.
╰ Their hobbies are… specific. And objectively hilarious.
Like, not “I read books and do yoga” hobbies. More like: competitive pillow fighting. Binge-watching bug documentaries and taking notes. Collecting socks with political slogans. Writing erotica starring finger puppets (don’t ask). They act normal, mostly. But their browser history is a carnival. And their heart? Pure chaos.
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ssscatola · 6 months ago
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task force 141 headcanons pt. 2 (+ a bit of ghoap)
Simon has absolutely never lost at arm wrestling
Johnny cannot wait to retire so he can adopt 150 dogs, 70 cats and 36 bunnies (he'd probably get a snake or two and a gecko or turtle as well)
Gaz really likes photography. I know this man has a shelf full of vintage analog cameras. ALSO he definitely has a collection of at least 250 polaroid photos stashed under his bed of his family and friends
Gaz also know so much shit about art and art supplies. Every medium, brand, the name of every color, every paper weight and is a master when it comes to color theory
Price is such . . . a fish guy. He loves fishing. He loves sending pictures to the force's groupchat every time he catches a huge fish and gets an ego boost when the boys reply with "nice catch, cap" along with a thumbs-up emoji from Simon
Speaking of . . . they 100% have a group chat. It's called 'Ghost's Therapists' or 'Price and the Lads' or just 'The Council'. Johnny and Gaz are the ones who spam with pics and videos and memes
Their nicknames in the chat? I'm glad you asked. Johnny: either 'SCOTLAND FOREVER' or 'Soup'. Gaz: 'Gazpacho'. Price: Mutton Chops Final Boss. Simon: Skull Boi (spelling done by Johnny)
Simon and Price prefer vanilla. Gaz and Johnny will always pick chocolate
Gaz goes to sleep by putting on ambient sounds of rain
When at the beach, Johnny and Gaz LOVE tanning. Price goes for a long swim, eats three nectarines and takes a two hour nap on his towel. Simon walks along the shore, drenched in SPF and collects tiny iridescent seashells and gives them to Johnny later
Simon Riley who likes pottery and does it as a hobby when he retires……he makes new plates and mugs for Johnny (let me have this) (i’ll write a separate post about this i have so much to say)
Not really a headcanon but Johnny and Simon at the zoo. or at a botanical garden. or having a picnic (i’m very normal about all of these ideas)
Price is a sleepy drunk. Johnny is horny/aggressive drunk. Simon is sappy drunk but hides it as much as he can. Gaz is everything is hilarious drunk
Simon WORKS a grill
Every single handyman is terrified of Gaz because he just know EVERYTHING about fixing ANYTHING
Price’s favorite fruits are strawberries and peaches. Gaz’s is passion fruit and cherries. Johnny would kill for kiwis and figs and Simon would be on a diet consisting only of oranges and raspberries if he could
ALL of them have a sweet tooth but Price and Simon are the worst
Did I mention Simon not knowing who Shrek is? No? Well, he doesn’t. Johnny remembers this and next time they’re all on a mission together, he starts quoting the dialogue (mimicking the voices, of course) from the “Muffin Man” scene into his comms and Simon is yelling at him to shut the fuck up. Gaz and Price are crying laughing
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haystarlight · 1 year ago
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Okay but listen now. What if *the walrus* is the stress/drug/sleep dep induced hallucination?
walrus vs. fairy
the funny part is that people who answer walrus are mostly like 'I disagree, but I understand why you would answer fairy' and the people who answered fairy are tearing their hair out. some of them are getting mad and/or mean about it, which is kind of upsetting.
so, I will try to help explain.
this will not be about walrus logistics, I promise.
some people believe in fairies. full stop.
fully believe they are real. probably a lot more people than you would be happy about, but you have to allow for this to be true.
even among those who don't wholeheartedly believe in fairies, there's a lot more people who are agnostic about fairies.
people willing to admit that they're not sure if fairies are real, but willing to hedge on the side of maybe the fairies are real.
like, if you rephrased the question 'would you be more surprised to see an angel or a walrus at your door' you would probably be less surprised to see that people would be more shocked at the walrus, because you probably already understand that a lot of people believe in angels and consider them real, whether or not you believe in angels personally
also the SPN fandom would go ham on that, probably. (this is said with deep affection)
there was a fairly famous road built in Ireland that got rerouted because there was a bush that was important to fairies. (source) the fairy tree stalled the plans for the road for a fucking decade. this happened in my lifetime. people talked about it happening on the internet as it was happening, it's not some weird thing that happened in the middle of nowhere in the 1950s or something. they agreed to go around the damned bush in 1999. I know that seems a long time ago to some of y'all, but it really, really isn't.
there are still people who think the cottingley fairies were real. not a huge amount, but I hope enough to make my point- there's some people who believe in fairies so much and want them to be real so much that they think a famous prank (hoax is stretching it, imo, these girls were pranking their families and the press kind of coincidentally got involved) proves the existence of fairies.
there's a lot, lot, lot more people who believe in fairies and also will admit the cottingley fairies weren't real. the cottingley fairy truthers are a small a percentage of the people who believe in fairies.
I cannot emphasize enough that there are plenty of people who believe fairies are real and even more that could be very easily convinced that fairies are real
people have believed in fairies and been superstitious about fairies for a long, long fucking time
setting aside all of that
some people are more likely to see a thing that isn't real at their door than they are to see a living fucking walrus at their door.
fevers, migraines, mental stress, sleep deprivation (especially if you have sleep disorders, like insomnia or narcolepsy), and infection (among a very long list of other things), and prescription medication side effects can all cause visual hallucinations, and they're all states that you might not be aware that you're in when you start to see weird shit.
these are just the really mundane ones I plucked up off the list.
I have experienced hallucinations due to sleep dep and insomnia. unfortunately, for me, this manifested as a spider the size of a border collie (I wish I were joking) and not fairies, but fairies is a possibility that cannot be counted out.
I'm way more likely to have sleep deprivation and a migraine and a fever all at once than I am to see a walrus in person at a zoo, much less at my door.
it has happened before. it will happen again. it's happening right fucking now.
the fairies can have my birth name if they will take away my migraine.
just putting that out there.
I've never seen a walrus in person at all. I would like to, but it's not likely. there's not any in any of the zoos nearby that I could find.
current likelihood of me seeing a fairy on my doorstep is significantly higher than me seeing a fucking walrus. I am in a physical state where I have had visual hallucinations before, and it's not impossible I will have them again. I would not be particularly surprised, even.
as long as it's not the goddamn massive spider. I even like most spiders, but that is too much spider.
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vampiretuna · 24 days ago
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favourite little mash moments so far:
hawk and trap giving each other haircuts (+ the silly tonic joke)
radar’s zoo
everyone complimenting klinger’s outfits
trap wheeling exhausted hawk out of OR on a gurney
margaret, trapper and hawkeye getting drunk together
klinger frolicking in a field and reading poems
uncle trapper and aunt hawkeye
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lvnleah · 14 days ago
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zoo adventures | mary earps.
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first mary fic, specifically for @earpskeeper 😌
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Dating wasn’t what you expected it to be but when it came to Mary, things just came effortlessly. She accepted you for you and didn’t care, she loved you and that’s all that mattered. 
But what mattered even more was the fact that she didn’t care that you had two young kids. Dating as a mum was hard. You’d been on endless dates and when the topic of your kids came up, the conversation quickly became uneasy but with Mary, it wasn’t like that. 
Your little boy, Noah, was five and your little girl, Ivy, was one and a half. They were your whole world. Your wife carried Noah but you carried Ivy. Things don’t go to plan during your pregnancy. 
When you were six months pregnant, your whole world came crashing down. Maya had gone out one day to do a food shop but because of a drunk reckless driver she never returned home. She got in a car crash, her car was run off of the road and she died instantly. 
It ruined your life. 
You became a single mother, something you had never imagined you’d have to do. Now, just over two years later, you felt ready to start dating again. 
You had met Mary when Ivy was six months old. At first, you were just friends, you didn’t want to dive into anything too soon after Maya’s death. It had been almost a year since Maya had passed that you and Mary made things official. 
You felt the happiest you had in a long time. 
Mary never tried to erase Maya from your life, in fact, she encouraged you to talk about her and keep her memory going. On your first date, she didn’t shy away from the topic of your kids. 
In fact, she was the most interested in you being a mother than out of any of the girls you had been on dates with. Mary loved to hear about your kids, she loved to see the way your face lit up when you got to talk about your babies. 
Mary had never met your kids. You’d kept that boundary firm for a long time, not because you didn’t trust her, but because your children had already endured enough. You needed to be sure. Not just of Mary, but of yourself, of your heart, of the space you were finally ready to let someone into.
But recently, the conversation had shifted. You and Mary had been together officially for nearly a year now, and it felt right. It felt natural. The way she made you laugh, the way she let you cry when the grief still hit too hard, the way she never flinched when Maya’s name came up in passing. She never asked for more than you could give. 
So, you brought it up with Noah.
He knew Mary as “Mummy’s special friend.” You hadn’t hidden her. She was just a presence in your life he was aware of but not fully involved with. When you sat him down and told him Mary might come to the zoo with you one day soon, his eyes lit up.
“She likes football, right?” he asked immediately, bouncing on the sofa.
You smiled. “She does.”
“Can I show her my new boots? I got the red ones. Like Saka. She likes Arsenal, yeah?”
“I don’t know if she likes Arsenal, bubba” You laughed. “But she’d love to see your new boots!”
Noah was sold. He was five which meant he was curious, clever and endlessly chatty. You knew if Mary could handle even half of what came out of his mouth, she’d do just fine.
The day at the zoo quickly arrived. That morning, Mary flooded your phone with texts. It was anything from what she should wear to how the kids were and if they’d like her. You’d never seen her so nervous.  
You tried to send reassuring texts between wrangling Ivy into her high chair for breakfast and trying to get Noah to narrow down what toys to bring with you.
When you arrived at the zoo, Mary was already waiting by the entrance, pacing slightly and checking her watch in that way she always did when she was overthinking something.
You spotted her instantly, and your heart did that familiar little flutter, the one that still caught you by surprise, even now. She had her hair pulled back, sunglasses perched on her head, and a tote bag slung over one shoulder that looked suspiciously overstuffed.
You had Ivy in the pram, chewing on a teething toy, and Noah walking beside you with one hand clutching yours and the other gripping a small toy car. His chatter had quieted as soon as the zoo came into view, nerves setting in. As you got closer, he slowed down, then slipped behind your leg, peeking out at Mary from the safety of your side.
Mary noticed immediately, her smile turning softer as she crouched down slightly without getting too close.
“Hello! You must be Noah,” she said crouching down to Noah’s height, “Your Mummy’s told me a lot about you!”
Noah just hid behind your leg, slightly peeking around it as he curiously looked at Mary. He looked up at you, as if he was looking for permission to speak to Mary or to find out if she was okay or not. 
“It’s okay, bubba,” You said, crouching down beside him with your hand on his back, “You can say hello to Mary, remember I told you she was coming with us to the zoo?”
He shyly smiled, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, “Hi Mary.” He said with a small whisper.
“Hey, little man!” She smiled back, reaching out to tickle his stomach which drew a laugh from him. “Do you wanna know a secret?”
That caught Noah’s attention and he finally pulled his head out from the crook of your neck, “Yeah, I wanna know!” He smiled, his voice a tiny bit louder. 
Mary grinned and leaned in like she was about to share the biggest secret in the world. “I brought jelly babies,” she whispered, like it was classified information. “But you’ve got to help me eat them before the penguins find out!”
Noah’s eyes widened. “Penguins eat jelly babies?”
“They might,” she said with a wink, “I heard they’re sneaky like that!”
He giggled, looking up at you for confirmation. You just smiled, brushing his curls back gently. “I told you she was funny, didn’t I?”
Mary stood up slowly, giving Noah a moment to adjust, and then reached into that overstuffed tote bag hanging off her shoulder. 
“Actually,” she said, glancing at you quickly as if to make sure this was okay, “I brought something else too. For you both.”
Noah watched curiously as she pulled out a small, soft football-shaped Jellycat teddy. It was red and white with tiny stitched boots and the cutest, most ridiculous little eyes.
“I saw this and thought of you,” she said, crouching again to hold it out to him. “Think he might like watching the giraffes too!”
Noah looked at you again, uncertain for a moment, and you nodded gently. “It’s okay, bub. You can take it.”
He reached out slowly, fingers brushing the plush fabric before gripping it properly and pulling it into his chest like it was something rare and precious. “Thank you,” he said, soft but clear. “I love it!”
Mary smiled so wide you thought her face might split. “I’m glad.”
Then she turned to Ivy, who was now sitting forward in her pram, her eyes big and fixed on the bag, as if she instinctively knew something else was coming. Mary chuckled and reached in again, pulling out a pastel pink dragon with shimmery wings and soft felt horns.
“And for you, little madam,” she said, crouching once more. “A dragon to guard your snacks!”
Ivy let out a delighted squeal and kicked her legs. Mary held it out and, without hesitation, Ivy snatched it from her hands and immediately stuffed one wing into her mouth.
“She loves it,” you said with a smile, a little lump forming in your throat. “It’s not often that little miss is pleased easily.”
Mary reached forward and tickled Ivy’s tummy gently, drawing a happy babble from your daughter, and then stood to face you. “I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”
“You could’ve shown up with just yourself and they still would’ve loved you,” you said honestly, your voice quiet enough that only she could hear it.
She gave you a look. It was soft, grateful, a little overwhelmed and then nodded once. “Still… wanted them to know I thought about them.”
You smiled, brushing your hand briefly over hers before nodding towards the zoo gates. “Let’s go then. We’ve got goats to meet.”
As the three of you made your way inside, Noah still holding Mary’s hand and his new teddy under his arm, Ivy chewing on her dragon’s wing like it was made of gold, you felt something shift. Just a little. Just enough.
Inside the zoo, Noah clung tightly to his new teddy, chattering about penguins and lions while you pushed the buggy up the gravel path toward the farmyard area. Mary walked slightly ahead with Noah’s hand in hers, reading the signs out loud in an animated voice for Noah’s benefit. 
She pointed out the “Tractor Trail” and “Cow Corner,” making exaggerated gasps that earned shy giggles from your little boy. When you reached the pen where the goats were, Noah’s eyes widened in awe while Ivy immediately let out a quiet, uncertain whimper from her pram.
Mary clocked it instantly. “You okay, little miss?” she asked gently, crouching to Ivy’s level. 
Ivy looked at her, then at the goats, then back at you and whined, holding out her arms in that tired, overwhelmed way she did when she wasn’t sure of something.
“She’s not the biggest fan of goats,” you said, scooping her into your arms as she nuzzled into your chest. “Noah’s the braver one.”
Mary grinned and turned toward him. “Think you’re brave enough to feed them, superhero?”
Noah looked up at you, then back at Mary, his face all nerves and excitement. “Can I?”
Mary nodded. “You bet! Hang on.”
She jogged over to the little machine near the pen and came back with a small paper cup filled with feed pellets. She held it out for him but stayed close, careful not to overwhelm him.
You stood just back from the fence, bouncing Ivy gently on your hip as Mary showed Noah how to hold his palm flat. He giggled the first time a goat’s tongue brushed against him, then squealed when another one tried to climb the fence. 
Mary laughed too, steadying the cup for him and making funny commentary about each goat’s name and what ridiculous things they probably ate for breakfast. You watched quietly. Ivy clung to your shirt, her dragon tucked under one arm and a thumb in her mouth, but her eyes stayed fixed on Mary and her brother.
Halfway through the zoo, the novelty began to wear off.
The midday sun was making Noah pink in the cheeks, and the crowds were getting busier. You were pushing the buggy with one hand while the other held Ivy, who’d started squirming, overtired but stubborn. And then came the voice.
“Mummyyyyy,” Noah whined at your side, dragging his feet. “I can’t see!”
“I know, baby, I know. It’s really busy.”
He tried to edge in beside you, but the buggy and your full arms made it impossible. He started to huff, his little body tense, and you knew what was coming. You saw all the songs from the crumpling face to the wobbling lip.
 A full meltdown was seconds away.
Before you could say anything, Mary stepped in. “Hey, buddy. Want a better view?”
Noah looked up at her, uncertain. His fingers gripped the football teddy tightly.
She crouched slightly, eye level again. “I could lift you up, if you’re okay with that? You’d be able to see everything from up there.”
He looked at you, wide-eyed. You nodded gently, smoothing a hand over his curls. “It’s okay, bubba. If you want to but you don’t have to.”
After a pause, he gave the smallest nod.
Mary smiled, “Alright! Hold on tight, yeah?”
She hoisted him up onto her shoulders with a small playful grunt, steadying his legs and gripping his ankles lightly. “Look at that view!” she said, spinning in a slow circle as Noah laughed, the whine gone completely.
He beamed down at you from his perch. “I can see the giraffes now, Mummy!”
“I told you she was strong,” you said, grinning up at him.
Mary carried him like that for the next hour. Through the aviary, past the lemurs, around the edge of the chimpanzee trail. He pointed things out to her, leaned down to whisper animal facts he half-remembered from school, and by the time you found a shaded bench to stop for lunch, he’d completely forgotten how to be shy.
You sat the kids down for sandwiches. Noah dove into his, telling Mary about the time he got chased by a goose at a park. Ivy, however, wasn’t having any of it. She rubbed her fists in her eyes and whined from the pram, twisting her body toward you.
“She’s done,” you sighed, crouching to unbuckle her. “Too tired to sit, too stubborn to sleep.”
“Want me to take her for a bit?” Mary asked, “You could eat your lunch then, I’m done with mine.”
You hesitated for a second. Not because you didn’t trust her, but because you knew how particular Ivy could be. She could go from cuddly to chaos in under thirty seconds if the hold wasn’t exactly right.
But you were exhausted. And your arms ached. And Mary just looked so calm.
“Sure,” you said softly. “If she lets you.”
Mary reached over the table, arms open. “Hey, little miss. Wanna cuddle?”
Ivy blinked sleepily, then leaned into her. Just like that. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You watched, a little stunned, as Mary settled her onto her lap. Ivy’s head dropped almost immediately to her chest. Two minutes later, she was asleep, a soft snore escaping past the thumb in her mouth.
You looked at Mary, wide-eyed. “How did you do that?”
Mary shrugged one shoulder, careful not to jostle her. “I'm a baby whisperer.”
You laughed, full and honest. You sat back, watching your little girl sleep in Mary’s arms, your little boy beside you finishing the crust of his sandwich, and for the first time in so long, the future didn’t feel like something to fear.
After lunch, the zoo was less busy. You’d found a quiet bench near a duck pond where Noah ran up and down, pointing at all the ducks. Mary was still holding Ivy, this time though she was strapped to Mary’s chest in the carrier. 
You smiled, watching the rise and fall of your daughter’s chest as she settled into the carrier like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like Mary had done it a hundred times.
“She’s fussy about who holds her when she’s tired,” you said, almost to yourself.
Mary just smiled. “She knows who’s a good cuddler then.”
You began walking again after lunch, the path looping around toward the elephants. Noah insisted on leading the way, bouncing a few feet ahead as he narrated every animal fact he could remember from the posters. But by the time you got halfway there, the excitement had worn off and the heat had caught up with him.
You saw it happen slowly, the dragging feet, the little frown, the way he started trailing behind rather than ahead.
“Mummy,” he whined, tugging at your arm. “My legs hurt.”
He didn’t argue, but his lip started to wobble, and you knew a full tantrum was about ten seconds away.
“I know bubs, I know,” you sighed, “Do you want to get into the pram?”
He nodded with a tired frown, “Okay then, hop in.” You smiled. 
He tiredly climbed into the pram, a little pout on his face. As you continued around the zoo, past the elephants, the lions, the monkeys swinging like chaos, it didn’t escape you how natural it all felt. 
How Mary chatted to Noah when he perked back up. She knew when to leave you to handle a fussy moment, and when to step in gently. How Ivy, your clingy little girl, hadn’t even stirred once in Mary’s arms.
By the time you made it to the gift shop at the end of the trail, Noah had perked up enough to climb out of the buggy again. He walked beside Mary this time, not in front, asking her questions about animals and telling her about his football boots again.
“Ivy needs something too,” he said seriously once you got inside. “She didn’t see the lions!”
“She was having a lion nap,” Mary said with a grin, shifting Ivy slightly in the carrier.
Eventually, Noah picked out a soft yellow duck for Ivy. “It’s like the ones at the pond. She likes ducks.”
You ran your hand over his curls. “She’s gonna love it, baby.”
Ivy remained out cold against Mary’s chest until you gently transferred her into the car seat, her duck tucked beside her. Noah climbed into his seat without protest, one hand still holding the red and white football teddy from earlier.
You shut the car door gently behind you before turning to Mary, “Thank you for giving them such a good day.”
Her hands made their way down to your hips as you leaned against the car, “Anytime, they’re great kids.”
You smirked before reaching up to place a kiss on her lips, one which lingered longer than usual, “I’ve been waiting to kiss you all day.”
Mary smiled softly against your lips, “Well, maybe we should do this more often,” she teased, brushing a stray curl behind your ear.
“I don’t think Noah or Ivy would mind either,” you murmured.
For a moment, the world around you, the tired kids, the sticky heat, the lingering day, slipped away, and it was just the two of you.
Then, with a little sigh, you straightened and glanced back toward the car. “I should get these two home before they both crash completely.”
Mary nodded, fingers still entwined with yours. “Yeah, but next time? Let’s make it a whole weekend. Maybe a little camping trip?”
You grinned, “Deal. But only if you promise to deal with the tantrums, you seem to be a baby whisperer.”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Only if you promise to keep kissing me like that.”
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stoopakoopa · 10 months ago
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Day 8 - Reunion
Drew out a little snippet from my partner's fic for @mesdelostrescaballeros2024!!
Part of a larger continuity being uploaded on ao3! Read it below ⬇️
Donald pulled up outside the apartment where Panchito was staying and took a deep, fortifying breath. Of course he was excited to see his friend again! Of course he was excited for The Three Caballeros to be once more reunited, even if only for a day. There was just that one catch—he felt bad even calling it a catch, like it was somehow a bad thing that he and Zé had finally professed their love for one another—but it would always be awkward telling Panchito. Surely, the duck thought with an internal groan, things would unavoidably change within the trio.
To make it all worse, José had been away on flight shifts when Panchito arrived in town, and Donald had agreed to only break the news when his new boyfriend had returned. He was a terrible liar about this kind of thing: his tongue got all tied up and his beak chattered when he spoke. How in the hell was he supposed to—?
The Donald Duck Pity Party was cut short as sharp, energetic chatter caught his ear from the street: Panchito was being seen off and heading straight for the car. Donald flung himself toward the back seat, toward the gift José had planned to hand over today, and hastily threw a spare blanket over it. The thick, scratchy wool did a decent job of concealing the obvious shape of a brand new guitar, at least if you didn't pay it mind. They'd give it to him when they were all together. That's how they were supposed to do things. Together.
Panchito appeared, waving goodbye to someone before bounding out of the apartment complex. His face lit up when he saw Donald, and before Donald could even get a word out, Panchito had leapt into the front seat, pulling him into a bear hug. His wide sombrero wobbled dangerously, but he didn't seem to care.
"¡Ay caramba, amigo! What took you so long to get here?" Panchito exclaimed, yanking Donald into his arms despite protest from his seatbelt, all to kiss Donald's cheek with his usual enthusiasm.
"'Ey, Pancho! How you doin' amigo?" The duck choked out, finding it a little easier to act natural amid the strangulation.
Panchito released Donald to pinch his cheek playfully. "Better with you here! I've been working on that new song I told you about last night! What about you? What have you been up to all day?"
"I'm doin' swell! And nothing much! Been taking 'er easy today." He lied, and not well—he was already talking too much. "Excited, though! Not every day I get to hang out with my two best pals!" Donald pulled away from Panchito's hold in order to return his attention to driving, feeling too awkward to linger in the warm hold, however much he usually would.
The charro clicked the seatbelt into place and leaned back in his seat, apparently unfazed by the duck's haste. "Ay güey, I'm just hyped that we are finally getting together again for a change. So, what are we doing this time? Are we gonna hit up the club so hard we get kicked out again? Or maybe reopen the Magical Mythical Monster Petting Zoo from Scrooge's secret vault? Or how about we raid the Anvilania embassy and get the ambassador drunk again? You know she still calls me." 
Donald nodded, absolutely not absorbing anything the rooster was clucking about in favor of focusing on the road. He was happy, of course; his friend's exuberance was infectious to say the least. It had indeed been too long since they got to hang out like this as a group… but a part of him still felt tense. He chanced another glance at the vaquero—oblivious, humming merrily, a long leg resting against the door as he propped up his foot on his knee and took up what little space his seat offered. He wished he could feel so carefree.
When they arrived at the little airport, Panchito's excitement was hard to miss. Before the car could even finish pulling up to the 15-minute zone, he'd unbuckled and bolted out of the car window, running ahead towards the tarmac and calling out for Zé at the top of his lungs.
"Yeah, don't wait up or nothing!" Donald called after him with a roll of his eyes. Crazy bird, he hadn't even put the car into park yet!  The lighthearted atmosphere Panchito had cultivated was at war with the impulse to complain bubbling inside him because he wanted see Zé first, to get a chance to hold his boyfriend first before they had to act respectably platonic in front of their none the wiser companion. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, just…
One hug, one second to let the weight of the week melt off was all he wanted. But that wasn't happening. Not yet. Instead, he'd have to wait and keep playing the part.
"Great," he muttered, jerking on the car's parking brake. "Just act natural. Simple."
The airport, while always abuzz with people from all walks of life and from every corner of the globe, was relatively less hectic on a weekday like this, and José was all the more grateful for it. Deplaning the small jet from Panama was fairly routine and done quickly, leaving Zé with a little free time before he met up with his friends. He brought with him his single suitcase, loaded with more clothes than his usual amount, plus some souvenirs from Brazil and the several other countries he had stopped in during the work week. There were things for the kids back at the manor, plus a homemade gaúcho style poncho pala made by his vovó for Della (whom the old bird had assumed was still freezing from her time on the Moon).  Strapped to the outside of the suitcase (because it could not fit) and wrapped in cloth was José's gift to Donald, a new hammock for his houseboat. He hoped he would like it.
Walking to the exit, Zé attempted to steal himself for the reunion to come. Not so much for seeing Donald, though his blood ran quick with excitement for him to be sure. But Panchito, whom he had not seen since they met for that ill-fated holiday to Bahia that never came to fruition. They had kept in constant contact even after their break up, though it caused pain on both sides. They had been determined to preserve their eternal friendship even in the face of romantic disappointment. And though it took some years for Zé to be able to look the rooster in the face without the unbearable ache in his chest urging him to take it all back and try again, he never wanted to lose sight of what drew him and the other two Caballeros together in the first place. They were his family, no matter what happened.
Even when I act like a stupid teenager and run crying to my ex-boyfriend about my hopeless crush, which turned out to be not so hopeless after all because we're together now and— Merda!
Zé closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. It was very good that he had this spare moment to compose himself as he entered the airport proper.
The distant sound of a familiar crow cut through the din of the crowd, stopping Zé in his tracks. That voice—there was no mistaking it. And like the call to sunrise, it made his heart want to leap into the sky. Spotting a tall flash of red, and a hat that he insisted was too big for his head, standing tall amongst the crowd, Zé dropped his suitcase and his umbrella and ran forward like his tail was on fire. Before he even had time to think about it, he was launching himself into Panchito's arms. The rooster caught him instantly, just like old times.
"¡¡AAAAAAJAJAJAJAJA!!" Panchito's triumphant grito echoed across the terminal. His grip was tight, almost desperate, and his wide grin spoke volumes. Zé could feel the emotion radiating from him—Panchito had missed him more than words could ever say, that much was clear. His whole body seemed to hum with excitement. 
"José!! Mi cielo!" Panchito crowed, his voice overflowing with affection as he slowly, reluctantly, released the green parrot. 
Zé smiled warmly, returning the sentiment. "It is so good to see you, docinho!" His tone was as light and affectionate as ever. "It has been too long!"
"No manches, pendejo, it's only been a few months!" Panchito guffawed, his eyes sparkling with unfiltered happiness. His grin stretched wide as he shook his head in disbelief, the warmth in his expression unmistakable. The man was an open book, his emotions always worn on his sleeve.
The malandro chuckled softly, adjusting his hat. "Well, yes, but it has been twice as long since the three of us have been—" He stopped, scanning the area. "Espere, onde está o Donald?" 
Panchito's expression shifted briefly—a flicker of realization, maybe impatience. He glanced back toward the car, where Zé knew Donald must still be catching up. The vaquero's elation had clearly driven him to rush ahead, leaving their other friend behind. Zé could almost feel the mixture of emotions brewing under Panchito's playful exterior, a familiar tug of longing buried in the joy of reunion.
But Zé knew better than to bring that up. He simply smiled again, his voice calm, teasing. "Always in a rush, eh  mano?" 
"Life is too short to sit still," the rooster replied assuredly, and his hand which still rested on his waist in a half hug pulled him in for just an instant, a punctuation to the point. 
"Hey, ya found 'im! Over here, guys!!!!" a distinctive voice cut through the busy hum of the arrival hall and Zé immediately turned towards the sound, his heart immediately catapulting into the stratosphere.
"DONAL'!" he and Panchito shouted in unison, their voices echoing across the platform. The moment the malandro caught sight of Donald looking flustered and determined as ever as he weaved through the crowd, all the excitement, the nerves, the longing came rushing back to him. He broke from Panchito's hold to sprint to him with ever increasing urgency, his heart pounding not from exertion but from sheer jubilation.
Quickly he closed the distance between them, throwing his arms around the sailor and pulling him into a tight embrace. He fit into his arms perfectly, and for a moment he didn't want to let go. Donald absorbed the impact with ease and let Zé down safely, the rest of the world seeming to melt away in an instant. Zé quickly buried his face into Donald's shoulder, feeling the comforting weight of his lover's arms around him. There was relief, adoration, and an overwhelming sense of peace. Even for just a fleeting moment, everything felt right—like he was where he belonged.
"Meu querido..." Zé whispered softly, just for Donald, though he didn't linger on the words. He knew this interlude was fleeting.
Sure enough, as if sensing their private moment was up, Donald's voice broke through their quiet intimacy. "Panchito...?" Donald called, one arm still wrapped around Zé as he extended the other towards their rambunctious rooster to include him.
Zé was too distracted with cuddling up to his sailor's side to register the gleam in Panchito's eye, at first. As it was, it was only the loud, triumphant yell that signaled their impending doom, and the parrot felt he had little choice but to make sure he didn't endure it alone, his arm holding his duck in place.
"No, wait—!" Donald started, but it was too late.
Panchito came down hard from where he had launched himself into the air like a luchador delivering his finishing move. Elbow extended, he crashed into the two of them with the energy of a firecracker bursting on impact. Donald let out a choked WAK! of surprise, his arms flailing as he was knocked clean off balance. Zé, caught in the middle of it all, simply accepted his fate with a laugh, not even trying to brace for the collision.
They tumbled down in a heap of feathers, beaks, and limbs, Zé wedged between his two best friends, both of them piled on top of Donald, who lay sprawled at the bottom. He could feel Donald wheezing beneath him, dazed from the sudden assault, while Panchito—of course—was perched victoriously at the top of the pile, leaning on one elbow like he owned the world.
"Órale! ¿Que te pasa? You were supposed to catch me!" Panchito chortled, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he flashed a wide, playful grin down at the both of them. "I could have gotten hurt!" 
"God forbid…" Donald rasped weakly.
Zé couldn't help but chuckle, even as he lay squashed in the middle. Completely unconcerned by the chaos, he wiggled into a more comfortable position between them, his head resting against Donald's back. He could feel the frantic beat of his partner's heart beneath his cheek, could hear the shallow breaths as Donald tried to recover. There was no tension, no frustration. Just pure, unbridled affection. Even in moments like this—especially in moments like this—Zé felt nothing but love for the both of them.
This was how it had always been with the three of them. Chaos and laughter, roughhousing and tenderness, all tangled together in one messy, beautiful friendship.
"Well, caras," Zé sighed contentedly, "it is good to be back where I belong."
"Where, with all of ya on top of me?" the sailor beneath him groaned, barely able to get out a full breath with all the pressure bearing down on him.
Don't tempt me, the malandro thought before immediately shelving it for later.
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tavolgisvist · 5 months ago
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One night at Cavendish, Paul and I sat and drank scotch and Coke for so long that the first light of dawn started to appear as we were still putting the world to rights. ‘Come on, Al,’ said Paul. ‘I need some fresh air. Let’s take Martha for a walk.’ We were pretty relaxed but we weren’t drunk. Martha leapt up from the rug by the fire and Paul and I piled into the DB6 and he drove us the half mile or so to the foot of Primrose Hill. We left the car outside London Zoo and went through the fence up the hill. It was very muddy at the bottom and Paul looked at my footwear and laughed, ‘So much for the man with the shiny shoes.’ We enjoyed the spectacular view in the first light of dawn. There was a real freshness in the air as Martha hurtled off in all directions in search of sheep or, better still, bones, and Paul and I enjoyed a few stolen moments of the day before the rest of London woke up. At 5.00am there was so little traffic noise that we could hear some early morning noises from the occupants of the zoo. It was chilly in the breeze that rustled the kites stuck up in the trees. Paul and I kept strolling around enjoying the experience and keeping warm. ‘Look at that dawn,’ said Paul in a whisper. ‘How anybody can say that there is no such thing as God, or some power bigger than us. If you stand and look at that sky, you know there must be more to life than we can comprehend …’ We were totally absorbed in the sights and sounds of the universe in front of us, as if we were the only men in an abandoned city. Then, suddenly behind us, a stranger appeared. He was a middle-aged man, very respectably dressed in a belted raincoat and he appeared to have come out of nowhere. One second Paul and I were alone, straining to see which direction Martha would come bounding back from, and the next, this man was there. He said, ‘Good morning,’ politely. ‘My name is John.’ Paul said, ‘Good morning. Mine’s Paul. This is Alistair and that’s Martha the dog,’ as our four-legged friend returned swiftly. John said, ‘It’s lovely to meet you. Isn’t this wonderful?’ and he walked away. Paul and I looked at each other and I said, ‘God, that was peculiar.’ I looked round and there was no sign of the man. The stranger had completely disappeared from the top of the hill as if he had just vanished into thin air. There was nowhere for him to go, yet he had just evaporated. Paul and I both felt pretty spooked by this experience. We both thought something special had happened. We sat down rather shakily on the seat and Paul said, ‘What the hell do you make of that? That’s weird. He was here, wasn’t he? We did speak to him?’ ‘Sure. He was here only seconds ago,’ I said. ‘Let’s go home,’ muttered Paul. Back at Cavendish, we spent the rest of the morning talking about what we had seen and heard and felt. It sounds just like any acid tripper’s fantasy to say they had a religious experience on Primrose Hill just before the morning rush hour, but neither of us had taken anything like that. Scotch and Coke was the only thing we had touched all night. We both felt afterwards that we had been through some sort of mystical experience, yet we didn’t care to name, even to each other, what or who we had seen on that hilltop for those few brief seconds.
(Alistair Taylor, With the Beatles, 2003)
John: Who’s the fool on the hill, Paul? Paul: John.
(Get Back sessions, January 14th, 1969, Twickenham Film Studios)
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wastingmylifesecondatatime · 4 months ago
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Thomas Shelby Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles
Updated: July 15th, 2025 🔞 = mature Other masterlists: mother masterlist (2019-2024), mother masterlist (2025)
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NEW ADDITIONS:
Talk of the Town by @runnning-outof-time (added: July 15th, 2025)
↳ "(Y/N)'s had enough of the whispering that always seems to happen when she's out and around Small Heath."
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36 Minutes by @acewritesfics (added: Apr 4th, 2025)
↳ "Not caring that she's in one of the fanciest restaurants in London, Y/N has her elbows on the table, her chin resting on a closed first while her other hand swirls the wine in her glass around before she takes a sip."
A Symbol Of Love by @garrison-girl-08 (added: May 06th, 2025)
↳ "Standing in your main bathroom of the apartment, you wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead."
Aces by @queers-gambit (added: Apr 4th, 2025)
↳ "During a terrible storm, you're invited to stay at your boss' house. years of tip-toeing around one another comes to an end when emotions are finally laid on the table."
After The Storm, The Sun by @call-sign-shark (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "If there was one thing you had never seen since your wedding with the infamous Thomas Shelby it was his smile."
Ain't She Sweet by @look-at-the-soul (added: March 30th, 2025)
↳ "“How was school, Charlie?” You tried to make small talk with Tommy’s son, he had been very quiet, looking out the window."
Birthdays Are Better In Bed by @runnning-outof-time (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "(Y/N) starts her birthday off in the best way possible: in bed with her family."
Don't Touch Me by @calummss (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "You are alone in the dark on your way back to your husband, when a man shows up. Tommy wouldn’t let this slide."
Gone With The Leaves by @awritesthings1 (added: Apr 4th, 2025)
↳ "Despite your happy marriage to Tommy, you feel an undeniable jealousy towards Lizzie. Perhaps a day in the forest will do you some good."
Happy Wife, Happy Life by @evita-shelby (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "Or Tommy gets drunk and assumes his wife is someone else so he sleeps on the floor instead."
I Believe You Dropped Something, Mr Shelby by @acewritesfics (added: Apr 4th, 2025)
↳ "Y/N leaves her new flat and begins the walk to a pub she overheard a few men discussing, determining she needed to go out for a few hours."
If Speaking Is Silver, Then Listening Is Gold by @queers-gambit (added: March 30th, 2025)
↳ "You require a bit of reprieve after the week you had, and Tommy's a gentleman."
Little You-s and I-s by @multific (added: March 30th, 2025)
↳ "You and Tommy deal with the changes that come with your pregnancy."
Lost And Lucky by @holacia3 (added: Apr 4th, 2025)
↳ "A sunny day at the zoo leads to an unexpected introduction with two brothers."
Me Time by @garrison-girl-08 (added: March 30th, 2025)
↳ "Flicking through your many dresses, you bit your lip."
Mr Thief Shelby by @misstress-riddle (added: Apr 4th, 2025)
↳ ""Sweetheart, are you ready?" [name]'s voice rang throughout the house as she finished placing her coat over her outfit, rummaging through her purse to see if she had enough money to do her shopping shortly after."
My Favorite Story by @runnning-outof-time (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "Tommy finds himself spending time in his office for other reasons once he finds out (Y/N)'s interest in the room."
No One But You by @runnning-outof-time (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "Tommy assures (Y/N) that she’s the only woman he wants after two women from his past reappear in his life."
No Negotiations by @fallatyourfeet (added: Apr 26th, 2025)
↳ "Tommy thought he had been very careful keeping his relationship with YN a secret, but no, his number one enemy had discovered you. And these things rarely playout well in the world of the Peaky Blinders."
🔞 Revenge by @hllywdwhre (added: Apr 19th, 2025)
↳ "Reader takes personal offense over Sabini’s attack on Tommy."
Runaway by @princessofmarvel (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "Thomas has made a deal with a man to help his business. Thomas’s only condition? To marry the man's daughter. Except she doesn’t want to marry him."
Safe And Sound by @misstress-riddle (added: Apr 4th, 2025)
↳ ""Ooh, where are you heading?" you ask Polly who places a hat on top of her head and she sends you a smile as you greet her."
Solace by @garrison-girl-08 (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "You had been in a deep sleep, your whole body relaxed."
Tailored by @peakbys (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "Your little double life starts to unravel when your husband shows up to avenge his father."
The Brother That Always Wins by @runnning-outof-time (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "(Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins."
The Woman In The Painting by @little-diable (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "The reader works as Tommy's maid, she knows all about Arrow House, even about those souls that are no longer alive but still around."
Three Years by @runnning-outof-time (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "Tommy’s attempts to reconnect with (Y/N) don’t go as he hoped they would."
🔞 Treat Me Wrong by @lovelybucky1 (added: March 29th, 2025)
↳ "“I think we should break up,” you say."
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