#I've had these thoughts for a while and needed to share

[pipermcleanswife]

i need domestic fluff with mac 😭 like bedtime routine, watching movies together, having game nights on the pc together im so down bad for this computer i will take anything <3 ty

HI HII!!! OH MY DOUBLE GOSH. I LOVED THIS REQUEST! I HAD LIKE A GAZILLION IDEAS SO I JUST DECIDED TO CRAM THEM INTO HEADCANNONS (plus i was looking for a reason to spread more of my mac propaganda) I HOPE THATS ALRIGHTY!!💗💗Now, MOST of these headcannons are for once they are realized!! I've also included some other just random blurbs i thought of while writing these out! I hope you enjoy!!!

Warnings? Mac being a cutie pie

‼️Gender neutral reader‼️

• Once mac is realized they surprisingly dont change much. Its very hard for them to adapt to having human needs but you help them. Things get easier for the both of you.

• Im gonna be so fr, they are lowkey SO jealous if you decide you want to buy a new computer once they are realized. They are just so scared you wont need or want their help anymore.

• Mac is still a MAJOR nerd. Im serious. They get so geeked out to play new games with you, or read about some new tech advancements. I hope you've upgraded your vocabulary because you ARE getting an earful that you may or may not understand.

• Mac would help you find a job that keeps you at home so that they can be around you and you can teach them about life and stuff. If you cant find one though, they literally wait ALL day for you, calls you multiple times a day. Your breaks are usually spent texting and sharing stupid pictures with them.

• Mac LOVES to help with literally anything. It helps them reassure themselves that you want them around, that they ARE enough for you

• Mac is one of the most supportive people ever. They look at you like you hung the moon and stars. They ADORE when you show off a new outfit you bought and maybe some other purchases…

• Another favorite pastime is taking baths together, they just like the idea of sitting in your lap and having their hair washed.

• They love to play games with you, it's just so wonderful to have something like that with you. They weren't sure they would like it at first, BUT they love playing little world building games like Minecraft or animal crossing with you. I also feel it in my soul that they like the Hades games and probably deltarune

• Obviously they are still a tech nerd and since they can't just not sleep anymore you have to remind them, I'm so serious, they will not even recognize the exhaustion unless you come and get them and take them to bed

• Speaking of beds and cuddling. They ADORE to cuddle. I don't think they have a favorite way to cuddle because they just love being with you. They do like to spoon a lot and lay on top of you though!

• nighttime routines are really nice and calm. (Let's pretend you are strong enough to carry Mac up the stairs, let's be real though that twink can't possibly weigh more than 5 apples) Mac LOVES to help you comb through your hair or read something with you to get nice and tired, they can also think of... alternative....methods, they do tend to be quite creative in their options... Mac loves to help you wipe off your makeup (if you wear any) and they really like to rub your shoulders and whisper you some sweet words. They feel like you don't get the praise you deserve and make sure that you fall asleep knowing that they love you so much.

• Like I said in my last post about mac, They are so affectionate. LOVES HAND HOLDING. It's a requirement. No options

• Mac is actually really good about reminding you to do things, but forgets their own stuff. Like if you need to charge your phone but you forgot they'll be like “you need to charge your phone babes” and their phones dead. Deader than any straight white man who says, “school dosent matter” entrepreneur dreams.

• Honestly genuinely a wonderful partner. Plans fun dates for you two to go on every other week because they understand that it might could overwhelm you a little bit and you work hard, you would probably rather have a nice relaxation week. and on the weeks you dont have a date you guys have a movie or game night. Also, you two make dinner together frequently, they really like to help in the kitchen, big fan of baking.

• They totally have planned dates based on the fanfiction that you've read.

• Sometimes they feel incomplete not knowing everything you're searching up or browsing, not in a creepy way, it's just that was their purpose before you realized them, that was what they spent years doing, so sometimes they like to lean over and peer at whatever you're doing. And maybe they just so happen stalk your socials a little bit.

• They really like matcha and coffee, I am so sure of this. They were not sure they would like it. They get this strawberry matcha drink with sweet foam on top, and they share it with you everytime because they love sharing with you.

• That's another thing, Mac loves to share. Cold? “Well, I'm warm enough, take my jacket, win for both of us because you'll be warm and I get to see you look cute in my stuff.” (they are FREEZING, but their CPU- I mean, their heart just feels so warm around you that they hardly notice) Thirsty? “Here, you can have some of mine, lovely.” Hungry? “Aww babes, it's a good thing I'm coincidentally eating a food you really like!” (they got it because they KNEW they were going to give you some)

• Mac just loves you and is so happy that you're in their life.

Random headcannons because I can.

🖥️- yk those goofy stickers you have on the back of your MacBook? Those funny stickers are definitely on mac too. All over their back. Much like fantina except theirs are like tattoos until you remove them. But they disappear in their realized form. Which honestly makes them sad.

🖥️- macs glasses are blue light and they are not afraid to offer them to you when they can tell you're gonna be working overtime on Ao3

🖥️- they LOVE to smell nice. I'm so fr. Bath and body works for-lifer. ESPECIALLY a fan of that aromatherapy line they have. Will ask you what your fav scent is and then buy it so you snuggle up with them more.

“Hey baby, which one of these do you like” they say holding out two bottles of some type of soap. After taking a quick sniff of both you ultimately decided on the one in their right hand. “Hmmm, the one on the right is my fav” you say with a small hum. They made their purchase so fast you'd barley even finished picking out the rest of your things! (Speaking of which, if you've never tried the eucalyptus bath and body works shower steamer, YOU SHOULD, oh my double goodness, it is DIVINE)

🖥️- in the most loving way, Mac is a smartass. They are aware of this. They don't mean it in a malicious way. They just love to teach and inform you of things! It's the way your eyes light up and process the information, and don't even get them started on the fact that you sit there and let them explain for as long as they want, even if they drag on the most elementary of topics

🖥️- terrible immune system, horrible. Seasonal allergies kick their ass.

🖥️- we all know this FREAK makes whatever they can sensual and flirty, you can be chilling on your phone while cuddling on the couch with them and they'll whisper something so devious in your ear you actually throw the damn phone

♪

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PHEW... That was a lot. Kinda proofread, kinda didn't, I KNOW, YOU CAN BOO ME IN THE COMMENTS. I'm SOOO sorry this didn't get out sooner. life is crazy, right?? I hope you guys enjoyed this tasty meal I cooked up for y'all. Love ya, songbirds!

[azzishands]

Fan of a fan - Chapter thirteen

Paige x Azzi

Warnings: Mature content

A/N: Last chapter, let's go! I'm sorry if this is under expectations, but it was hard to write it because it kinda felt like it had already ended in a way? But I hope it gives some kind of feeling of closure at least. (I've already begun writing the next fic, which is also why I've had less inspiration to write this chapter. Can't wait to share it with y'all later!)

Masterlist

---

The first test of their reconciliation came immediately. 

Of course the video of Paige Bueckers staring right at Azzi Fudd as the curtains closed after an epic performance of Iris went viral. It looked like a scene straight out of a movie. 

Paige, looking like the bittersweet song in human form, just standing on stage, looking at Azzi, while everyone else was looking at Paige, while the whole venue of A-list celebrities were erupting in praise.

People were making reaction videos on youtube and tiktok and wrote long think-pieces on twitter. Fanfictions were starting to overflow on every platform about that very moment. 

‘If this isn’t a confirmation that the two did in fact date years ago, I don’t know what is’, one hit-tweet said. 

Another said: ‘I KNEW THE MAKEOUT PICTURES OF THEM YEARS AGO WASN’T MADE UP IN MY MIND’

The internet loved it. They loved them. 

Except Paige’s fans.

‘Thought we were done with this’, one tweet said with an eye-roll emoji. 

‘Please, Paige was just nervous and needed to look at a familiar face in the crowd, it’s not that deep,’

‘Nah, that should be me’, and so on. 

Azzi had seen those comments, and had rolled her eyes at them by instinct. But it wasn’t comparable to the amount of supportive comments about the two. Her dm:s were filled with people reaching out, being nosy, being supportive, wanting to interview her about it. 

All of her friends had sent several videos and pictures of the captured moment. 

Storm Reid: ‘Girl, if y’all don’t get together already, I don’t know what’

Auli’i Cravalho: ‘This is some movietype shit’ 

Ayo Edebiri: ‘PLEASE’

Never before had she been showered with people actually rooting for them so loudly like this. And it was the same for Paige. 

“Our A&R just wrote me a long message about how she hopes we find our way back to each other,” Paige chuckled and showed Azzi, who was lounging on her couch. 

“That’s cute,” Azzi cooed. “I just got this DM from someone telling me how much seeing that video helped them come out, and that’s just crazy. In a good way.”

The two women were in Azzi’s apartment. The plan was to go on a date in the evening, but Paige had insisted on hanging out with Azzi before the date, because she couldn’t wait to get to see her. 

It had been a couple days after the Academy Awards, and the attention the video was bringing them made Azzi a bit hesitant about actually going out at a public place for their first date. Mostly because she didn’t want to rush Paige into being comfortable with it. 

“You know, we don’t have to go out tonight. We can stay in, if that would be… better,” Azzi said carefully as Paige plumped down on the couch next to her. 

“I know,” Paige simply shrugged. “But I really want to go out with you.”

“You sure?” Azzi didn’t mean to sound like she was constantly testing Paige’s feelings, but she just wanted to make sure that Paige didn’t push herself too hard for Azzi’s sake. 

“Yeah. I might be a bit nervous, but that’s just because I’m going on a date with you,” Paige looked at her all serious. 

Azzi just snorted and playfully shoved Paige’s shoulder. 

Few hours later, Azzi was in her bedroom getting dressed when she heard knocking on her door. 

“Paige, can you get that?” she shouted, not wearing any pants. 

No answer. 

“Paige?” she called out again, but to no avail. 

She frowned at the silence and hurriedly got dressed to go open the door. 

“Wha-” Azzi stammered when she opened the door and found Paige on the other side, with a whole different outfit on than just a couple minutes earlier. It was a light blue button up shirt with some loose suit pants and her hair in a slick low bun. 

“Did you just change clothes?” Azzi laughed at the randomness of it all. 

“I’m gonna ignore that question,” Paige just said. “You look lovely tonight.”

“Oh, thank you,” Azzi smiled. “You too.” 

“I got a cab waiting for us outside,” Paige said and offered her arm to Azzi. 

“Aw, so we’re not spending the whole night driving around in circles this time?” Azzi joked about Paige’s inability to listen to directions. 

“Maybe next date,” Paige teased. 

They exited the building and got into the cab. 

The restaurant Paige had chosen was fancy. And expensive. They didn’t have to wait for a table, Paige had already booked one. 

And Paige held Azzi’s hands through the whole walk from the cab to the restaurant, from the door to their table. 

At the table, Azzi felt people’s stares, heard their murmuring and saw how they pointed their fingers towards them. She glanced at the blonde woman a bit nervously, and Paige glanced back, smiling. 

“You want to order some wine?” Paige asked.

Azzi cleared her throat. “Uh, sure.”

The waiter arrived at their table and the two women ordered their wine and food. Just when the waiter came back with a bottle of wine, two young men came up to their table. 

“Excuse me, I don’t want to bother you guys, but could we maybe get a picture with you?” one of the guys asked and looked at the two women. 

“Of course,” Paige automatically answered. 

The men hunched down and took a selfie with the two celebrities, gave their thanks and then left. 

This caught the attention of the people around them in the restaurant, and suddenly, they could sense a shift in the air much more than before. 

Paige knew that the photos would be posted. She knew that people were gonna be able to tell that she and Azzi were on a date. It made her heart rate go up, but she didn’t know if it was out of terror or excitement yet, and that was a good sign. 

“Hi, sorry,” a young woman approached them shortly after. “I just wanted to say that I’m such a big fan of you, Paige. You’re literally my biggest role model, and I adore the way you make music. Could I just ask you a quick question about your writing process?”

The woman was basically eating Paige up with her eyes, and Azzi gulped, and took a sip of the wine to distract herself from accidentally visibly reacting to it. She knew better than to feel possessive over Paige in front of her fans. 

“I’m sorry, I’m on a date right now, so maybe another time,” Paige offered a friendly smile, and added when she saw the disappointed look on the fan’s face: “But we can take a quick picture if you’d like?”

“Thank you,” the fan nodded gratefully, and without any further instructions, just handed her phone to Azzi. 

“Oh,” Azzi expressed, surprised by the audacity, but didn’t complain. She opened the camera and started to snap pictures of Paige and the young woman smiling at her. 

“Make sure to get my good side, babe,” Paige smirked at Azzi, and Azzi almost dropped the phone in her lap. 

“I promise, baby”, Azzi quickly recovered and smiled brightly at the nickname. She snapped one or two more pictures and then gave back the phone to the fan, who murmured out a quick thank you before fleeing the scene. 

Azzi couldn’t help but blush at the fact that Paige had clearly said that to make a point. A possessive one. Right in front of a fan, before they even were officially together yet. She marveled at Paige’s courage for the simple gesture. 

“You… You’re really something,” Azzi shook her head in disbelief over the interaction. 

“I know, that’s why they want pictures,” Paige said playfully. 

The food was eventually brought in to the table, and Azzi and Paige had just taken another photo with some guests. Fortunately, the people around them seemed to have recognized that the two were trying to have a normal date night, and left them pretty much alone during the rest of their meal. 

The wine glasses were constantly filled, and both of the women felt the intoxication slightly grow to the perfect level of tipsy. Not that they needed it, because the conversation flowed naturally and every silence in between felt comfortable. 

It was a successful first date, to say the least. And when it was time to say goodnight, Paige followed Azzi up to her front door. 

But Azzi just opened the door and walked in. Paige stayed behind and didn’t step a foot inside. 

“You coming in?” Azzi asked. Assumed, rather. 

“I don’t know if I should,” Paige nervously chuckled. 

Azzi looked at her. “You scared?” she teased.

“A little,” Paige snorted, but Azzi could hear the sincerity in her tone. 

“What are you scared of?” Azzi gently asked. Paige still stood outside, not even inching a little closer to come inside. 

“Um… I just don’t want to rush things,” Paige said nervously. 

“For your sake or my sake?” Azzi questioned. 

“Our sake,” Paige answered. 

Azzi smiled with a nod. “Alright,” she said, and stepped outside her door and closed it behind her, joining Paige outside in the hall.

“Thank you for a lovely night,” the actress said sincerely and took a step forward towards the singer.

“Thank you for going with me,” Paige smiled, and took a small step back, visibly nervous. 

Azzi bit her lip and snaked her index fingers in Paige’s belt loops on her pants and pulled her closer, their bodies suddenly being flushed together. 

“You’re allowed to touch me, you know,” Azzi warmly flashed a seemingly innocent smile, but the tone sounded anything but innocent.

Paige hesitantly placed her hands on Azzi’s sides, trying to ground herself. She was already feeling a bit dizzy from the wine, and Azzi’s sudden proximity didn’t help. 

“I just don’t know if I can stop if I do,” Paige exhaled, seemingly breathless. 

“Let’s find out,” Azzi said, before leaning in slowly, ghosting her lips on Paige’s. She stroked her nose against Paige’s, not giving her what she wanted just yet. 

Paige was breathing heavily now, just waiting for Azzi to take the next step. 

At last, she felt the younger one lean in, and Paige closed her eyes. But Azzi just lightly, barely, pressed her lips on Paige’s, and then pulled back again.

“Good night, Paige,” Azzi smirked as Paige’s eyes fluttered open, and went back inside her apartment. Paige heard Azzi lock the door from the inside. 

“You’re a fucking menace!” Paige said loudly outside the door, feeling all flustered by the sudden abruption, and heard Azzi laugh as a response from the inside. 

“Not my fault, Bueckers,” Azzi yelled back.

Paige just exhaled and gave a short laugh, trying to stop her cheeks from burning. 

“Until next time, Fudd.”

---

May 2027 

Paige and Azzi had been going out on several dates, met hundreds of fans together, hung out with their mutual friends and Azzi had even flown to Minnesota and visited Paige and her dad again. 

But during this whole period of time, they had never done anything more than kissed. Paige always stayed in a hotel in LA, and Azzi did the same in Minnesota. 

How they managed to keep their hands to themselves was miraculous. Azzi didn’t want to rush Paige, and Paige didn’t want to rush Azzi. 

But one afternoon in Azzi’s apartment, she had had enough.

Paige was working out in Azzi’s living room on a yoga mat and was wearing nothing but a sports bra and boxers. Azzi had been out shopping groceries when she stepped inside her apartment and saw the other woman all sweaty and half naked. 

“Oh wow,” she unashamedly marveled at the sight. 

“Sorry, I’m almost done,” Paige said and continued doing some sit ups. 

Azzi hurriedly put the groceries away, to then return back to the living room to just admire the view. 

“You just gonna watch me workout?” Paige teased in the middle of the motion.

“Yup,” Azzi nodded and sat down on the couch. 

She looked at Paige’s stomach, her abs flexing with every movement, her sweat trickling down her neck further down into her bra. Azzi swallowed. She just wanted to lick it up. 

“Okay, now I’m done,” Paige panted as she laid with her back on the yoga mat, trying to catch her breath. 

Azzi rose from the couch and approached the woman on the floor. She knelt down in front of Paige and gently spread her legs and inched forward. Paige just looked at her, not daring to move. The actress leaned forward and crawled over the blonde until she was right above. 

The last weeks had been torture for Azzi. Being on dates with Paige, kissing her, hugging her, touching her, but not having sex with her, it had driven her mad. Because suddenly everything the blonde one was doing was turning her on to the point where she felt like she had to lock her in the bathroom to finish herself. 

But not this time. This time, it was just too much. Paige on her living room floor, sweating, panting, abs flexing… 

Azzi let one of her hands land on Paige’s damp stomach, caressing her abs, moving up over her bra in a swift motion. 

“Hm,” Paige hummed and her hips slightly jerked up. “You’re really doing this?”

“You want me to stop?” Azzi asked, and removed her hand. 

“No no no,” Paige quickly replied, immediately grabbing her hand to be touched again. 

Azzi smirked and leaned her head down to kiss Paige. But right before their lips touched, Azzi whispered:

“I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Paige squirmed underneath her, and responded by grabbing the back of Azzi’s head, pulling her in for the kiss. 

There was nothing gentle in the way that Azzi’s lips crashed into Paige’s. It was as if all pent up tension was about to explode right then and there, just eagerly chasing an outlet. Tongues were already roaming each other's mouths, hands were going up and down their bodies and Paige had no time to catch her breath from her workout before she entered a new one. 

Azzi broke the heated kiss and started to place messy wet kisses along Paige’s jaw down to her throat. She sucked the skin right on her pulse point roughly, and Paige gasped from the sensation. 

“Missed this so much,” Azzi murmured against her skin and continued further down. She didn’t even bother to take Paige’s bra off, she just pushed it up, revealing her pink nipples. Before Paige could tell Azzi how much she missed her back, Azzi leaned down and took one of her nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.

“God,” Paige arched her back into Azzi. It felt like it was the first time, and her body was reacting to every little touch Azzi was giving. It was as if it was oversensitive by anticipation.

Azzi sucked, bit, licked roughly down to the boxers, leaving several marks on Paige’s stomach. She looked at her work, smiled, and deemed it a masterpiece. Paige looked at her with hazy eyes, but Azzi saw the uncertainty in them.

“You okay?” she asked, rubbing her hands up and down Paige’s thighs. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just… It’s just been a while,” she nervously chuckled. 

“Hey, it’s just me,” Azzi smiled and gave her upper thigh a peck. 

“That’s the problem,” Paige said after a sharp inhale from having Azzi’s face so close to her center. 

“You want me to stop or keep going?” Azzi sincerely asked. 

“God, I want you to keep going,” Paige exhaled and nodded. “I need you to.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Azzi playfully teased as she saw the dark patch between Paige’s legs. 

Azzi gently hooked her fingers beneath the hem of Paige’s boxers and pulled them off. She was on her knees between the singer's legs, taking in the view in front of her. 

“You’re so so pretty,” she marveled and let her hands stroke Paige’s hips down to her thighs, teasingly letting her thumbs rub the upper inner parts. Paige squirmed by every touch. It seemed like her body was reacting before her mind could even register what was being touched. 

At last, Azzi let her thumb stroke over the wetness between Paige’s legs, and moved it up to her clit and gently started to rub slow circles. Paige groaned and her hips instantly jerked up at the contact. Azzi bit her lip and smiled at the face Paige was making. She already looked like a mess. Her hair was sprawled behind her head, and her bottom lip red from biting it so hard. That in combination with all the hickeys on her stomach, she looked gorgeous. 

“Mhm,” Azzi hummed contentedly. “I’m gonna take it slow with you and enjoy my view.”

“Since when do you take things slow?” Paige groaned, being driven mad by the slow tempo of Azzi’s thumb on her clit. 

“Just want to have you for as long as I can,” Azzi leaned down and hovered above the blonde, letting her lips ghost over her ear. 

Paige whimpered in response, grinding her hips against Azzi’s thumb to try and get more friction and pressure. But Azzi just put her other palm on her stomach and pushed her down, refusing her to contribute to her own pleasure. 

She leaned back and sat on her knees again, and said: “Stay still for me.”

Paige whined in frustration but tried to oblige. 

Azzi removed her thumb from Paige’s clit and slid her index and middle finger into her own mouth. Sucking them and licking them as if it was something else, while staring at Paige, who looked at her with hooded eyes. She gave her a show.

Paige felt her lower stomach tighten, and she gasped when Azzi moved her fingers to her core and slid them inside her. 

“Shit, Azzi,” she moaned and fluttered her eyes closed. 

Azzi meant what she said, and moved her fingers in and out of the singer in a tantalizingly slow tempo, while curling them up just the way she knew Paige liked. Her hand was palming Paige’s lower stomach, gently pressing down. 

“Please,” Paige whined at the pleasure, but wanted more. 

Azzi returned her thumb on Paige’s clit and kept on circling it slowly, softly, while still steadily pumping in and out of her. 

“You want me to fuck you harder, Paige?” Azzi asked.

“Yes,” Paige exhaled. 

“Mmm, you feel so good on my fingers,” Azzi praised her. “Missed fucking you like this baby.”

Paige groaned loudly at the words, and gasped when Azzi finally pushed into her harder. But she didn’t increase the speed just yet, still fucking her slowly. 

Even so, Paige felt her high come closer and closer. Azzi could tell by the way Paige’s breathing started to become more and more ragged. 

“You close?” Azzi asked with that honey smooth voice. 

“Yeah,” Paige whimpered out. 

“Don’t come yet,” Azzi said with a demanding tone. “Let me fuck you a little longer.”

“But…” Paige whined. “I’m not gonna be able to-”

“-Yes you are,” Azzi protested. 

And Paige moaned at Azzi’s interjection and felt her body start to tense up from trying to hold on. Her body was begging for her to relax and just come undone, but she did everything she could to postpone it, obeying Azzi’s request. Instead, moans and broken cries of Azzi’s name were slipping out of her mouth, repeated like a prayer. 

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” Azzi praised her and let her other hand stroke Paige’s cheek. 

And Paige whimpered in response to the praise. 

But there was really nothing Paige could do the moment Azzi leaned down and let her tongue massage her clit. Her hand flew to the back of Azzi’s head, holding on for dear life, trying to get some sense of control in her very weak position of control. 

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna-” she didn’t even finish the sentence before her body compulsively started to twitch, the wave of her orgasm crashing down on her. She let out a guttural moan followed by a loud exclamation of the actress’ name. 

Azzi just kept on licking her, feeling Paige’s walls pulsate and clench around her fingers. When she felt Paige coming down from her high, she gently removed her fingers and started to clean her up with her tongue.

“You taste even better than I remember,” Azzi moaned against Paige’s center, licking up the cum from her pussy, swallowing like she was starving. 

Paige whimpered and pushed Azzi’s head away from between her legs out of reflex by being too sensitive. 

Azzi laid down next to Paige and brushed Paige’s sweaty hair away from her forehead. She leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on Paige’s lips that tasted like the singer. Paige was unable to move and just laid there, still coming down from her high. 

“How exactly did you expect me to not come when you move your tongue on me like that?” Paige asked once she had caught her breath and turned her head to look at Azzi with heart-eyes. 

Azzi cracked a smile and snorted. 

“This your way of saying I’m good?” Azzi licked her lips. 

“This is my way of saying you’re unreasonable,” Paige countered. 

“Nah, you’re just too needy,” Azzi teased and placed her hand on Paige’s thigh again, grabbing the flesh beneath her fingers harshly. Paige slightly flinched by the contact and bit her lip from trying not to moan. 

“And desperate,” Azzi continued and let her fingers once again touch Paige’s center, feeling her wetness.

“And wet,” she whispered and let her fingers softly graze the wetness, before fully pushing her fingers in again. Paige moaned loudly and automatically spread her legs further, giving Azzi easier access.

“And so, so, fucked,” Azzi let out a low laugh at how fast Paige was ready to go again. 

Paige was gonna have the workout of a lifetime. 

Azzi was gonna make sure of that. 

---

March 2031

It had been a while, but the sound of multiple camera shutters going off still felt familiar. Azzi hadn’t been on a red carpet for approximately two years, but it felt like she had never left. 

Paige on the other hand hadn’t been on a red carpet for over three years. The Huskies had reached a certain level of fame where she got privileged enough to pick and choose her public appearances without it negatively affecting her career, so she usually let the other Huskies go on these kinds of carpets by themselves, while she was at home with Azzi. 

She was still making music, she was still playing concerts and touring, but she was not putting herself out there in any way that did not serve her purposes. So if you wanted to see the Paige Bueckers? Then you had to go to one of The Huskies concerts. 

That’s why it felt so strange to be back to this kind of scene. But it was an important night for Azzi, and so it was an important night for Paige. 

Azzi belonged on the red carpet. Everyone could see that. Her elegant black gown hugging her figure with Paige’s black suit complimented her outfit like jewelry around her neck. 

They moved down the carpet together, always by each other's side, always holding hands, only being the most present with each other. 

“AZZI! PAIGE! OVER HERE!” The photographers were yelling loudly, but they only looked at one another, reassuringly with big smiles on their faces as if they couldn’t hear. 

Later down the carpet, they got tracked down by an interviewer to do a short video interview, which they agreed to. The woman with the microphone expressed her gratitude for taking time to let her ask a few questions before getting into it.

“Azzi Fudd and Paige Bueckers, welcome to the 103rd Academy Awards. Azzi, you’re nominated for best actress tonight for the movie In Another Life, how does it feel?” A very basic first question, but Azzi welcomed it with open arms as she liked the easy ones.

“It feels amazing, no matter win or lose, I’m extremely grateful just to be here and be in the presence of my peers,” Azzi answered. 

“Amazing. Paige, how’s your feeling about Azzi’s nomination?”

Paige cleared her throat and leaned forward to the microphone. “Oh, everyone should know by now that I have been Azzi’s number one fan since before I even knew her, and I’m extremely proud of her every single day, seeing how much work she puts in and how she always manages to exceed expectations as a wonderful actress and person. And objectively, I think she should win tonight,” she flashed one of those infamous smirks only Paige Bueckers could give. 

“Love it,” the woman chuckled. “And you two actually have some history with the Academy Awards. Paige, the last time you attended, you did an iconic performance from your soundtrack and The Goo Goo Dolls Iris. This led to a viral clip of the two of you, sharing an intense sort of staring contest. The internet has been speculating ever since. Do you wanna share with us what really went down?”

Azzi looked at Paige with raised eyebrows and a smirk, like she was daring her to answer. 

“Well,” Paige started, and immediately felt her cheeks start to heat. “Long story short, it was the moment I got the love of my life back.”

The eyes on the woman went wide, and Paige nervously chuckled at the reaction. 

“Wow, that had got to be one of the most romantic things to ever come out of the Awards,” she stated and looked in awe at the two. “And now you are here together. Can we expect another viral moment from you guys tonight?”

“No no,” Azzi laughed. “I think we’ve had enough viral moments.”

“Alright, well good luck tonight Azzi, and enjoy the night both of you!” The interviewer wrapped up the conversation. 

They walked together into the theatre where the awards were being held and sat down, waiting for it to begin. 

Azzi looked over at Paige and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

“I appreciate you being here with me tonight, even though I know you would rather stay at home with the dogs,” she said teasingly. 

“Of course, you’re my number one dog,” Paige shrugged and Azzi slapped her shoulder with a snort. 

“You’re so annoying,” Azzi stated with a big smile. 

“You know I wouldn’t miss this night for the world,” Paige offered sincerely. 

Azzi was unexpectedly calm during the ceremony. Compared to the last time she was there, she somehow felt very relaxed. Until her category was up. 

“Oh my God, here we go,” she exhaled and Paige grabbed her hand comfortingly. 

“And the Oscar for best actress goes to…”

“...Azzi Fudd.”

Azzi let out a breath of surprise and looked at Paige like she couldn’t believe it. She looked like a question mark. The whole theatre erupted into applause and standing ovation. Whistles and praise were thrown at her from every distance.  

“Azzi, you won!” Paige stood up and helped Azzi up in the process. “You won, baby! Go get it, go get it!”

But the actress just threw herself at Paige who caught her, wrapped her arms around her and hugged her as tight as she could. 

“You did it, Azzi,” Paige said, and never let go of her. 

Azzi leaned back and smiled at Paige, before leaning in, kissing her softly. 

“Go now,” Paige laughed as they separated from each other and urged her to go up the stage that was waiting for her. 

Azzi looked all flustered as she walked up to the stage, her eyes still wide from sheer disbelief. The last year’s Oscar winner handed her the statuette, and Azzi felt the weight of it in her hands and in her heart. The celebratory music and the applause simmered down and suddenly, Azzi was expected to say something into the microphone right in front of her. 

“Wow, I, I have no words,” she started. “There’s not enough words that could ever make justice this incredible feeling that I’m feeling right now. But I just wanna say that all the nominees for this category were exceptional and all deserving of this award.”

She looked out on the crowd and acknowledged every single one of her fellow nominees with her eyes.

“I just wanna give thanks to everyone who ever believed in me, invested in me and supported me. It really takes a village, and this award is for everyone that has helped me be the actress I am today. I wanna thank Caroline, Jesse, Helen, Marcus, Gregory, Vivienne and Lola for everything they have poured into me.”

She took a deep breath and looked at Paige. 

“And lastly, I wanna thank the Academy Awards for this award - but also for letting my amazing wife perform four years ago which was the moment I knew that it was for life. This is for my number one fan.”

She smiled at Paige in the crowd and raised the statuette up in the air, goofily pointing at it with her other hand. 

Paige threw her a kiss from the audience. 

Yeah, they were definitely gonna have another viral moment. 

THE END.

---

[pballer5]

timeout: chapter 1

masterlist

summary: In the quiet after victory, Azzi Fudd finds herself questioning everything she thought she wanted. Searching for clarity far from the spotlight, she begins to confront who she is when the game, the noise, and the expectations fall away.

a/n: Hey y'all! This is my first time posting a fic on here. I've been working on this for a while. It's a very introspective au I've been obsessed with writing, and I tend to go on and on lol. This chapter is very prologuey...

wc: 3.6k

Chapter 1: Montana

Azzi Fudd is on top of the world. She just won a WNBA Championship, capping off a season that was dominant from start to finish. Her chemistry with her teammates was electric: seamless passes, shared momentum, and more than a few moments where she shined on her own. And in the stands, her family had been there for all of it, cheering with every shot, every win, every step.

So why does she feel like this?

Her ears still ring from the roar of the crowd as she steps into the hush of her apartment. The scent of champagne clings to her skin. She shrugs off the light jacket she’d needed for the crisp October air in San Francisco.

Azzi feels… empty. A kind of hollow she hadn’t prepared for, not after achieving the one thing she’d spent her whole life chasing. The questions come fast, sharp, relentless: What’s next? What else is there?

She knows the answer. Or at least, she knows the one she’s supposed to give, the one she’s said a hundred times before: Get back to work.

But this time, the truth feels messier than that.

Azzi loves basketball. She always has, probably too much. The obsession never used to bother her. Until now.

Somewhere along the way, it stopped being just about the joy of the game. It became about expectations. About image. About legacy.

She used to wear those words like armor. Now, they just feel heavy.

Azzi told herself it was normal, that pressure came with the territory. That’s what it meant to compete at this level. To be a pro. To be her.

But lately, the silence feels different. No games. No noise. Just the low hum of her apartment… and a creeping sense of uselessness she can’t shake.

She moves through the apartment like a stranger, unzipping the duffel she hasn’t unpacked since the victory parade. Her jersey is still crumpled at the top, half-folded and smudged with champagne and confetti. She stares at it for a long moment before shutting the bag again.

Her phone buzzes on the counter: more texts, more congratulations. A voice memo from her agent. A photo from her mom, tear-streaked and smiling, captioned “So proud of you, baby.”

She loves them all. Truly. But each notification feels like a brick on her chest.

Azzi sinks onto the couch, the silence around her suddenly deafening. She scrolls mindlessly, through news articles and postgame analysis, through slow-mo clips of her jump shot, through comment sections filled with fire emojis and GOAT tags.

It should be validating.

Instead, it feels like she’s watching someone else.

The version of her that lives in highlight reels and headlines the version everyone expects her to be doesn’t feel like someone she knows anymore.

She pulls a blanket tighter around her shoulders, even though she’s not cold. The scent of champagne still lingers on her skin: bitter and sweet all at once.

Her eyes blur with exhaustion. Her body aches in all the familiar places: hips, shoulders, knees, but this feels deeper. Not physical. Not something a night of sleep or a bag of ice could fix.

She closes her eyes.

What now?

The question loops again. Not like a voice. Not even like a thought. More like a haunting.

What now?

She doesn’t plan it.

One minute, she’s scrolling through emails, half-hoping the answer might magically appear between a calendar reminder and a sponsor offer she hasn’t responded to. The next, she clicks open a message from her cousin, subject line: Need a favor?

She almost deletes it without reading. But something about the casual tone slows her down.

Inside, it’s short. Just a few lines:

Hey, I can’t make it out to Aunt Ruth’s this year, military’s keeping me overseas longer than expected. She’s stubborn as ever, won’t ask for help, but winter’s coming fast and someone needs to make sure the pipes don’t freeze and the roof doesn’t cave in. Thought maybe you could use the change of scenery. Montana’s got plenty of space to think. No pressure. Just a thought.

No pressure. Just a thought.

Azzi stares at the message. Her first instinct is to scoff. She hasn’t seen Ruth in years and only remembers her through blurry childhood photos and a vague recollection of a woman with a booming laugh and a firm handshake. Montana feels like another planet.

But the idea lingers.

She rereads the email. Then again. The cursor hovers over the reply button, but she doesn’t press it.

Instead, she opens a new tab.

Searches flights.

It’s impulsive. But it doesn’t feel reckless. It feels… like relief. A door quietly swinging open in a house that’s been locked up too long.

She checks the dates. The price.

Her finger taps the trackpad once. Twice. And then the ticket is booked.

Only after the confirmation hits her inbox does she lean back on the couch, blinking like she’s just come out of a dream. The quiet returns, thick and undisturbed.

But now it’s different. Not emptiness. Just space.

Space to go. Space to leave. Space to figure out what’s next.

<3

“You’re going where?” Caroline stares at her like she’s grown a second head.

Azzi rolls her eyes. That’s about the reaction she’s gotten from everyone so far. “Just for a couple of months. My great-aunt needs help getting ready for winter, and I figured… why not?”

“This great-aunt you’re apparently so close to that I’ve never heard of her?”

Azzi shrugs. “She’s extended family. My cousin usually helps her out, but he’s overseas this year. I thought it’d be good to step in.”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. “Good for her or good for you?”

Azzi doesn’t answer right away.

Caroline raises an eyebrow and says it again. “Good for her or good for you?”

Azzi doesn’t answer right away. She leans back against the counter, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the floor. “Does it matter?”

Caroline lets out a quiet breath, softer now. “I mean… maybe not. I just didn’t think your idea of a break was chopping wood in the middle of nowhere.”

Azzi lets out a dry laugh. “Me neither.”

They fall into silence. The kind that only happens between two people who know each other too well. Caroline doesn’t press further, but she doesn’t look convinced either.

“You okay?” she finally asks.

Azzi picks at the edge of her sweatshirt. “Yeah. I just… need a reset. Clear my head.”

Caroline nods, but her concern lingers. “And the middle of Montana is the only place you could think of for that?”

Azzi smirks. “Exactly. No distractions. No press. No expectations.”

“No cell service, probably.”

“Even better.”

Caroline watches her for another beat, then sighs. “Alright. Just… don’t disappear, okay?”

Azzi’s smile softens. “I’ll text you when I hit civilization.”

“Or when a bear chases you down a mountain.”

“Also a possibility.”

Caroline shakes her head, but she’s smiling now. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Probably,” Azzi says, grabbing her duffel. “But I’ve been in my mind too much lately. Time for a change.”

<3

The airport blur comes next: security lines, gate announcements, people moving with purpose. Azzi moves on autopilot, nodding at flight attendants, answering texts she doesn’t want to send. When the plane finally takes off, the city shrinks below her, just a mess of lights and motion, and she doesn’t look back.

The connection is tight in Denver. Then it’s onto the second leg: a much smaller plane, the kind with propellers and a handful of passengers, most of whom seem to know each other by name. Azzi keeps her hoodie up and her earbuds in, though she’s not listening to anything. Just noise-canceling the world for a while.

She dozes off somewhere over the Rockies. Wakes up to light turbulence and a wide stretch of sky through the window.

When she steps off the plane, the cold hits her immediately, sharp and clean. The air smells like pine and something older, untouched. Mountains loom in the distance, dusted with early snow. The sky stretches wide and unapologetically blue.

She shifts her duffel onto her shoulder, boots crunching on the gravel as she scans the lot. There’s no terminal, not really, just a low building with a hand-painted sign and a vending machine out front. A pickup truck rolls into view, slow and steady, the kind of red that used to be brighter, now dulled by time and weather.

Behind the wheel is Ruth, just as Azzi remembers from childhood photos: small but square-shouldered, wrapped in a thick flannel and ball cap pulled low over wild gray curls. She parks, doesn’t bother turning off the engine before hopping out.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ruth calls, letting the door slam behind her. “You actually showed up.”

Azzi manages a tired smile. “I like to keep expectations low.”

Ruth eyes her like she’s checking for cracks. “Could’ve fooled me. You look like someone who just quit a job instead of won a trophy.”

Azzi shrugs. “Maybe it’s both.”

That gets a short laugh. “Well, you’ll fit in fine out here. No one much cares what you’ve done, long as you know how to stack wood and keep the pipes from freezing.”

“Sounds like exactly what I need.”

Ruth nods once and reaches for her duffel. “Good. Grab the other side. It’s a long drive.”

The road out of the airport winds through a patchwork of fields and pine-covered hills. Azzi watches the landscape roll by: rusted mailboxes, hay bales wrapped in white plastic, cattle huddled along fences like they’ve all agreed to stand in the same direction.

Every so often, Ruth hums along with the radio. Not words, just melody. Azzi doesn’t ask what station it is. She doesn’t ask anything, really. It feels good to be quiet.

After nearly an hour, the truck crests a small ridge and the house comes into view: a white farmhouse set back from the road, its porch slouched slightly to one side like it’s been exhaling for decades. A red barn leans with similar exhaustion off to the left. The sky is beginning to turn gold behind it all, as if the land is shrugging into dusk.

“You remember it?” Ruth asks, voice softer now.

Azzi nods. “Yeah. It’s smaller than I remember.”

Ruth chuckles. “That’s ‘cause you’re bigger.”

They get out. The cold bites harder here, less filtered by trees and buildings. Azzi drags her bag up the porch steps while Ruth fumbles with a ring of keys the size of a belt buckle.

Inside, the house smells like cedar and something faintly sweet—maybe old apples or cinnamon from another season. The heat kicks on with a groan as Ruth stomps off her boots.

“You’ve got the upstairs bedroom,” she says. “Sheets are clean. Water heater’s moody, so don’t get greedy.”

Azzi drops her bag just inside the door and turns in a slow circle. Wood-paneled walls. A crooked picture of someone riding a horse. A faded braided rug she remembers tripping on as a kid.

“You hungry?” Ruth asks.

Azzi hesitates, then shakes her head. “Think I just want to shower. Maybe sleep.”

Ruth gives a noncommittal grunt and disappears into the kitchen.

Azzi climbs the stairs with the same ache she gets the morning after a game: muscle-deep and impossible to stretch out. But this is different. It’s not the kind of tired you can fix with sleep.

The upstairs room is small and square, with a quilted bedspread and a window that frames the darkening sky. She sits on the edge of the mattress, listening to the wind outside, the ticking of the old house as it settles into night.

Azzi lies back against the pillow, eyes tracing the jagged silhouette of the mountains against the night sky. The wind whispers through the cracked windowpane, carrying a chill that seeps into her bones. She pulls the quilt closer, but warmth feels farther away than ever.

She wonders if this is what quiet feels like for people who’ve never lived in noise, not just the buzz of the crowd, the clatter of sneakers on hardwood, or the endless hum of expectations, but a real, deep quiet that lets your own thoughts echo loud and clear.

The hours slip by. Somewhere below, the slow creak of the old house settling shifts into rhythmic breathing, a steady lullaby that somehow soothes her. She thinks of the question still echoing in her mind. What now?

Azzi sits up. She pulls her knees close, fingers tracing the faded patchwork on the quilt. She’s done chasing the next goal, the next highlight reel, the next victory. But that doesn’t mean she’s ready to give up.

She needs to find out who Azzi Fudd is: without the trophies, the cameras, the noise.

Morning comes soft and slow. Sunlight drips through the curtains like honey. Azzi dresses in layers, the cold reminding her of the world beyond herself. Downstairs, the kitchen smells of brewing coffee and something baking, maybe apples, maybe cinnamon.

Ruth is humming again, this time words drifting through the kitchen like a gentle breeze.

“Morning,” Azzi says, voice rough but steady.

“Thought you’d like some breakfast,” Ruth replies, sliding a plate across the table. “Apple pancakes. Figured you could use something sweet.”

Azzi smiles, a small crack in the armor. “Thanks.”

They eat in comfortable silence, the kind that feels like an unspoken truce. Ruth glances up, eyes sharp but kind.

“So, what brings a champion to a place like this? Besides the obvious ‘reset,’ of course.”

Azzi takes a deep breath. “I don’t know yet. I just… need to figure out how to be me without basketball defining every part of me.”

Ruth nods slowly, as if that makes perfect sense. “That’s a long road, kid. But you’ve got time. And you’ve got help.”

Azzi looks out the window, watching the wind stir the pine needles. Maybe this is the beginning of something not the ending she feared, but a new chapter she didn’t know she needed.

The morning light stretched across the kitchen table as Azzi savored the last bite of her apple pancake, the warm sweetness settling in her stomach like a small comfort she hadn’t realized she needed. Ruth’s humming had faded into the background, replaced by the soft tick of a clock and the occasional creak of the old farmhouse.

“So,” Ruth said, breaking the silence, “you got plans today? Or just gonna sit around pondering the meaning of life?”

Azzi smiled, the first genuine one in days. “Maybe a little of both.”

Ruth nodded knowingly. “Well, you’re in luck. There’s always something that needs doing around here. Plus, it’s good to keep busy when your mind’s spinning.”

Azzi stood and stretched, the chill still lingering in her bones. “What’s on the list?”

“Wood chopping, fixing the fence by the barn, and you might want to get your hands dirty in the garden before the frost really sets in.”

Azzi laughed softly. “Sounds like a full day.”

“Don’t worry,” Ruth said with a wink, “it’s the kind of work that lets you think without distractions. No press conferences, no highlights, just you and the land.”

Azzi felt a strange calm settling in. For the first time since the championship parade, she wasn’t fighting against the silence, she was learning to listen to it.

<3

The sun hadn’t fully crested the ridge when Azzi stepped outside. Frost coated the porch railings, glittering like crushed glass in the dawn light. The cold was a bit sharper than yesterday, and she pulled her hoodie tighter around her neck, her breath puffing in soft clouds.

The world was still. No horns, no chatter, not even a dog barking in the distance, just the soft crunch of her boots on frozen grass and the low hum of wind in the pines.

She wandered out toward the edge of the property, past the old tire swing that swayed lazily on a branch, half-frozen. Beyond it, the fields stretched wide and silent, dusted with frost and framed by the deep blue of the mountains. Somewhere in the distance, a hawk cut across the sky, wings slicing the air with a kind of grace that didn’t need an audience.

Azzi stopped at the edge of the fence. The wood was old, bleached gray and splintered, the kind of weathered that came from years of standing still.

She leaned against it, arms folded across the top rail, eyes following nothing in particular. There was a weight inside her she couldn’t name. Not sadness exactly, just a hollow ache, like her soul had run too many sprints without stopping to breathe.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. No bars. No emails. No news alerts screaming about MVP votes or off-season trades.

She scrolled anyway, out of habit. Photos from the championship flicked past: her arms raised, confetti falling, smiles so wide they looked permanent.

But they weren’t.

She clicked the screen off and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. Her fingers were cold. Numb in a way that felt earned.

Down by the barn, a crow landed on the fence post and gave a sharp caw, like it was calling her out for pretending to blend in here. She raised an eyebrow at it. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

The bird blinked, unimpressed, then took off in a rush of black feathers and wind.

Azzi closed her eyes for a moment, letting the cold press against her face. Letting it ground her. There was something brutal but honest about it, nothing performative here, nothing artificial. Just cold, wind, and silence.

She exhaled slowly.

For years, her life had been structured down to the minute: weight room, practice, film, travel, repeat. Even rest days were scheduled. Now, time moved differently. Stretched. Slowed. It made her restless, itchy. But also… free?

She wasn’t sure yet.

A rusted wheelbarrow leaned against the side of the barn, half-buried in leaves. She made a mental note to clean it out. Maybe today. Maybe tomorrow.

One day at a time, Ruth had said last night. Azzi hadn’t replied then, but now, as the sun finally broke over the trees and spilled gold across the field, she thought maybe Ruth was right.

One day at a time.

<3

Azzi was mid-swing, splitting another log clean down the middle, when the sound of an engine grumbled down the road like it was held together with duct tape and spite. She paused, axe in hand, watching as a beat-up blue pickup skidded to a stop just past the fence.

Out stepped a girl, late twenties maybe, tall, broad-shouldered, and giving off a cool-confident energy. She wore a hoodie under a grease-stained flannel and a backwards trucker hat, blonde flyaways peeking out the sides. She took one look at Azzi, then the axe, then the stacked wood, and let out a low whistle.

“Damn. Ruth really out here recruiting lumberjacks now?”

Azzi didn’t smile. She shifted the axe on her shoulder, her voice flat. “Are you always this nosy with strangers, or just bored?”

The girl didn’t back off. If anything, her grin widened. “Little of both,” she said easily. “It’s a slow morning, and you’re new. That makes you interesting by default.”

Azzi said nothing. The silence stretched just long enough to turn the air sharp.

The girl glanced at the stacked firewood again, then nodded, almost to herself. “Clean cuts. Either you know what you're doing, or you're trying real hard to look like you do.”

Azzi’s grip on the axe stayed loose, casual. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “Just trying to get a read. You don’t exactly scream ‘local.’”

Azzi’s eyes flicked toward her. “And you do?”

She laughed in response, low and unbothered. “Fair. But I’ve earned the right to look out of place here. You?”

Azzi didn’t answer.

The girl waited a beat, then shrugged and stuck out her hand. “I’m Paige. Mechanic-slash-resident pack mule when Ruth’s got too many chores and not enough people.”

Azzi looked at the offered hand but didn’t take it. “Azzi.”

Paige lowered her hand, unfazed. “Cool. Well, if Ruth hasn’t run you off in the first week, I’ll probably see you around. I’m the one she yells at when her coffee machine acts up.”

She turned to go, then paused with one hand on the truck door. “Word of advice: if it starts making that weird grinding noise, hit it once and swear at it. Works most days.”

Azzi gave a single nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Azzi watched Paige climb into the truck, the engine coughing and sputtering like an old beast begrudgingly waking from a long nap. Dust swirled in the late morning sun, settling back onto the worn gravel road. She lingered for a moment, the weight of the axe grounding her, the steady rhythm of the forest around her a balm against the chaos still echoing in her head.

She hadn’t meant to snap at Paige well, maybe just a little, but the guard was up, like it always was these days. Trust didn’t come easy out here, especially not for someone who’d spent years under the spotlight, performing on hardwood courts, under bright lights and constant scrutiny.

Azzi shifted the axe from one hand to the other and exhaled slowly. The sharp snap of a twig somewhere behind the barn reminded her she wasn’t alone, but still, the isolation pressed in close, like a weight she couldn’t quite shake.

Paige was right, though, she didn’t scream ‘local.’ And maybe that was okay. Here, no one cared about championships or highlight reels. No one was watching her. Just the trees. The sky. The quiet.

Azzi let herself feel the moment, the chill in the air, the distant hum of a tractor somewhere on a neighbor’s farm, the smell of pine and earth settling after the morning dew. For the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of something besides restless energy. Maybe peace. Maybe a chance to breathe without the world watching.

[a99jazzybean]

HELLOOO

i don't recall if i've popped a req in here , so disregard if i already have requested something from you

but i was thinking about your chance fic 'with a taste of your lips' and i was thinking ,,,

could we get a chance x gn!reader who has an oral fixation ? not even a sexual oral fixation , just likes to keep their mouth occupied a lot (chewing on things, rubbing things against their lips, etc) .

maybe the reader has a habit of rubbing whatever is in their hand against their lips , and this time just so happens to be chance's d20

just a little thought 🤭🤭

bonus; here's a silly <3

Love this idea! Thank you for the request! And the art is absolutely adorable!

I did add a bit that was inspired by this drabble from @juicyasstender that was inspired by With a Taste of Your Lips... Inspiration inception!

Just a Taste

synop: You have to keep your mouth occupied and find the closest object is your D20. When Chance abruptly leaves the room, you discover that he can feel what you do to his die body. With this newfound information, you decided to have some fun...

words: 4.7K

includes: chancexgn!reader, masturbation, fondling objects, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, dom!chance, reader has a "hole" and "sex"

a/n: Guys, I love this concept that the objects can feel when you interact with their object form! Also, this is smutty. No minors!

“Stop biting your nails, you’re gonna get yourself sick.” Your mother snatched your hand from your mouth. 

“I can’t help it!” You whined.

It was true, you had a natural inclination to put whatever was in your hands to your mouth. Which in this case, happened to be your actual hand. When your mother released it back to you, you looked over your nails. Bitten down, almost bleeding. Even in your little childhood brain you knew this was likely a problem. 

“I suppose we can try and find something to help.” Your mother sighed.

This issue probably came from your father, who also had issues with keeping things out of his mouth. Especially his fingers. 

“How about gum, hmm?” She eyed the stand over the grocery store conveyor belt. “You’re old enough to have that, right?” She looked down at you.

You shrugged, pretty sure you had tried it once before. 

“Yeah, you’re old enough.” She snatched a pack of bubblegum, adding it to the rest of the groceries. 

When you exited the store, she handed you a piece. You popped it into your mouth and began chewing, finding the sensation quite satisfying. Thus, you had found at least one way to curb the need to comply with your oral fixation. 

Almost two decades later, you sit at your home office. Back to old bad habits, fingers in your mouth. You had been forgetting to purchase gum with your groceries ever since you couldn’t leave the house. Seeing the stand at the checkout was always a visual reminder, one you no longer had to aid you. For now, you found yourself chewing at your nails, or fidgeting with a nearby object on your lips. The latter happened to be less dangerous to your unsuspecting fingers. 

“You know, you’re gonna get sick if you keep doing that.” Mac sat in front of you as you typed away at their keyboard. 

“You sound like my mom.” You said, pulling out your thumb and inspecting it. A ragged tip of your nail greeted you, the skin around it red. “Though, you’re probably right.” 

“Phoenicia, could you add spearmint gum to the grocery list for the weekend?” You asked your phone. 

“You got it!” She cheerily spoke, putting the item on your list. 

While you wouldn’t have your oral aid for a few days, at least you remembered to add it this time. 

For now, you would have to find something else to keep your mouth occupied. From your peripheral, you spotted your lucky D20. The object had witnessed its fair share of days dancing upon your lips. Occasionally receiving a nibble. 

Shrugging your shoulders, you picked it up. Returning to your work on your computer you brought the die to your lips. Unaware of what exactly you were doing. 

From the end of your desk, Chance sucked in a groan. Feeling your lips ghost over various parts of his body. Eyes narrowing, he sent a glare to Mac. Of course they had to point out your habit. Leading you to unconsciously teasing him. 

Ever the people pleaser, Chance would never let you know how your actions affected him. He could only picture how embarrassed it would make you. Instead, he forced himself to suffer in silence. Watching as you brushed your lips over his die body, shivering with each touch. 

Looking to your side, you spotted Chance hunched over behind his GM screen. Peeking over, you saw him looking up at you with a red face.

“S-sorry!” You sputtered. “I swear I wasn’t trying to see what you were working on…” You obviously lied. 

“Mhmm, sure…” He held in a groan as you rubbed the die across your lips, feeling a kiss against his chest. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind during our next session. Your character is at what…” he glanced down at his notes, “17 hp?” He gave you a cheeky grin, glad that your discussion of G&G was distracting him from what you were doing to his body. 

“Whaaaat??” You shuffled around your desk, looking for your character sheet. “Ah shit.” 

There it was, “17/85 hp”. Ugh, you’d probably have to take healing potion if you were planning on not dying next session. 

“If you hope to keep your mortal soul, I suggest not looking over the screen.” He teased. 

Despite his mind’s attempts at pushing away the feelings moving though his body, you still were affecting the dice greatly. The red in his face growing darker and darker with each press of your lips to his body. 

You spotted his flustered state, concern on your face. 

“Is everything alright?” You turned back to him, die still pressed against your lips. 

His eyes darted to your mouth, then to your eyes. 

“Uh, yeah.” He choked out. 

This was beginning to become unbearable. Then, of course you just had to do it. That one habit of yours that had him going absolutely insane. With just the smallest amount of teeth, you nibbled on the 19 side. Chance let out an audible groan as he felt your teeth graze the sweet spot in the crook of his neck. 

“You sure you’re good?” You pulled the die from your mouth, setting it on the table. Reaching for Chance, you placed a hand on his forehead. His skin felt extremely hot to the touch. 

“I-I’m fine! Really!” He brushed your hand away. 

“Your head is really hot. You sure you’re not sick?” Worry, furrowed your brow. 

“Us objects can’t get sick, heh.” He brushed you off again.

“If you say so…” You left it at that, returning to concentrating on your computer. 

The die was back to your mouth. 

No, no, no, not that side! Chance practically melted into a puddle as your lips pressed to his seven side. Feeling a soft warmth press right against his rock-hard crotch. 

Suddenly, the man shot up. The red still burning against his cheeks. You and the other objects gave him a concerned look. 

“Ah, um, if you’ll excuse me!” As nonchalantly as possible, he cupped his hands over his crotch, then shuffled off into whatever space he lived in, one that you had yet to see. 

In his little home, Chance rubbed a hand down his face with a groan. How much more of this would he be able to take? Sure, he managed when you didn’t know of his living existence. He was easily able to run off and take care of himself. Now, with you being able to see him, it was significantly more difficult to hide. However, admitting what you do to him? Oh, he absolutely could not handle the embarrassment that would bring you. 

For now, he would have to manage it the only way he knew how: jacking off when you weren’t looking. 

Sitting down with thud, Chance cupped himself over his pants. Giving himself a tight squeeze, he let out a satisfied moan. Pulling down his pants and boxers, his hard cock flopped out against his stomach. Gripping himself tightly, he began to pump at his length. His thumb brushing over the underside of his reddened tip. 

As he ran his fist up and down he thought about you. About your lips on him. Ones that he could still feel right now. You pressed the six side to your mouth. A kiss pressed against his thigh, making him moan. Then you slid the die to the seven, making his cock jump. Fuck. Precum beaded at the tip of his cock as he felt your lips on him. 

The mixture of your mouth and his hand would have him cumming in no time. 

Then, there it was again, your teeth nibbling on the die. This time on the 12 down his chest. As you moved the die along your lips, you pressed against his lower stomach. 

With you no longer being around, Chance let himself be loud. Moaning and praising your actions as you made him near his climax. Each pump of his cock emphasized the feeling of your mouth on his body. 

A final press of your lips to the seven was his undoing. His balls tightening, then long strands of cum bursting out of him. Coating his hand with warmth as he continued to overstimulate himself with more pumps. 

“Ah, ah, fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He moaned out. If only you knew…

As you sat unaware in your office, Mac snickered knowingly. Turning away from where Chance had run off to, you gave them a confused look.

“What’s so funny?” You asked.

“Oh nothing…” They trailed, eyes dropping to the die at your lips. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Your eyes narrowed. “Spill.” 

“Aww, but you’re so fun to tease.” Mac leaned their hands on their knees, cocking their head playfully.

Narrowing your eyes further, the computer conceded with a sigh. 

“You know we can feel you interacting with the objects, right? It’s not like I’ve gushed over your double-clicking or anything…”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious.” You said, unsure of where this was going. 

Mac coughed into their hand, motioning at the object pressed against your mouth. Eyes widening, you removed the die. Placing it down and lifting up your hands as if it were something extremely delicate. 

“You mean…” You sucked in a harsh breath, eyes wide. “He, he felt…”

“Everything.” Mac finished for you. 

“Oh. Oh no.” Your eyes were filled with horror at the realization. 

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Mac waved you off.

“Why shouldn't I worry? I’ve been mouthing at Chance without even knowing!” You groaned, making your head fall into your hands. 

“Why do you think he hasn’t told you?” Mac gave you a pointed look.

Peeking through your fingers, your eyes widened again. That’s right, he hadn’t ever told you. This wasn’t a habit of yours that just began, you had been doing it for years. Yet, Chance, not even once, had told you. 

“He likes it?” 

“I mean, all of us kinda do…” Mac trailed. “However, Chance has been one of the luckier ones you tend to play with.” 

“What am I supposed to do now that I know this?” You asked, voice cracking. 

Inside you were filled with a weird mixture of embarrassment and intrigue. On the one hand, you had literally been kissing and nibbling on Chance’s body this entire time. On the other hand, Chance had never said anything about it. Which could mean that he liked it, or he could be absolutely mortified about it. 

Thinking on it though, you remembered his state earlier. Red in the face and stuttering. It didn’t seem like the embarrassed kind. More like the flustered kind. Then there was the fact that he had run away. Run away while covering his crotch… Oh god… He liked it!

A lightbulb went off in your head, and a mischievous grin grew on your face. One that Mac caught. They quirked a brow, wondering where your head was at.

“Care to share your thoughts? You’re giving me that look you get when you come up with something new for a self-insert fic.” 

“Oh, I have some ideas…” You chuckled to yourself. 

Chance had always interested you. He was one of the very first items you came across when you first received the Dateviators. At first sight, you were pretty much smitten. The personified D20 charming you immediately. It didn’t help that he was quite the flirt, especially when he was in his GM mode. 

Having the knowledge that you were able to affect him in such a way, well that was a fun surprise to say the least. A surprise that you would be taking advantage of.

You glanced at the calendar on your computer, letting out an amused huff. In just two days, you would have your next session with Chance. A session that you will be enjoying greatly.

When Chance returned to the office, you had already left. While part of him was disappointed, another part of him let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know if he could face you after what he had just done. Little did he know, you were about to make things worse for him. 

For the next two days you decided to make sure you were right about your suspicions regarding Chance. Continuing to play with his die by your lips whenever you were in the office. Testing out different ways to mess with your favorite D20. 

With each press of your lips to the die, you watched him out of your peripheral vision. Every time he felt your mouth on him, his face grew red and his breathing grew labored. He did his best to hold himself together, but found himself running off to take care of himself before things got too bad. If you continued to mouth him like that, he surely would cum in his pants. While his condition was certainly embarrassing, he could not be seen doing that. 

Every reaction you gained from him, you catalogued in your mind. Making sure you knew exactly what got him going. 

From your observations, you found that each side of his die resulted in a response from a different part of his body. You noted that the seven and eight elicited more intriguing results. 

Soon enough, the day of your next G&G session arrived. Across the table you sat with a smirk. Looking at you over his screen, Chance raised a questioning brow. 

“What are you looking so smug about?” He asked, fingers below his chin as he attempted to get a read on you.

“Oh nothing… I just know how I’m going to get my way this session.” You said, the smirk turning into a cheeky grin.

“Is that so?” 

“It very much is.” Your finger messed with his die on the table. 

You watched as he began to shuffle in his seat uncomfortably. Tracing around the six, you saw him shudder. The feeling of your finger stroking over his thigh, almost making him keen. He managed to hold himself back, a blush begging to bloom on his neck. 

“R-right, we’ll see about that.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Anyways, shall we begin?”

“We shall!” You gave him a soft smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Instead, something else swirled in your irises. Something that had Chance shivering. 

He cleared his throat again, then cracked his knuckles. Surely he could make it through his session, right?

  Very quickly, you proved him wrong. The die brought to your lips as you concentrated on Chance’s storytelling. 

“So, you’re currently fighting against a group of undead skeletons and a necromancer in the kingdom’s cemetery. Right now you are 17 health. It is your turn to go…”

As you looked over your character sheet, you pressed your lips to the die. An action that could be seen as wholly innocent, though the intentional placement of your lips was most certainly not. The 10 slid over your bottom lip, making Chance feel a kiss upon his lower belly. The feeling made him visibly shiver. 

“Hmmm…” You moved the die to the six side. His thigh received the warm caress of your lips. “I think I’ll pop a healing potion for now.” You set the die down. 

When you released your hold on the die, you swore you heard him sigh. This was torture for him. Blissful, sexy torture, but torture nonetheless. 

“Okay, roll your two D4 please.” 

You rolled the dice, earning you five points of health back. When you finished your roll, Chance’s D20 returned to your mouth. The man let out a huff at the feeling. 

Looking at him, you caught his gaze. Pupils blown out, mouth slightly hung open as if he was trying to catch his breath. Just a dusting of red on his cheeks as he held himself back. Catching your gaze, Chance was taken aback. There was a knowing look in your eyes. 

He watched as his die moved over your lips. Then, your fingers twisted it around. The seven side now pressed to them. Keeping eye contact, you added more pressure. Kissing the die deliberately. 

Chance let out a soft grunt, doing his best not to moan out as you mouthed at the die equivalent of his dick. Then, you were mean. Tongue lightly flicking out against the number.

There it was in your eyes, that mischievous, knowing look. One that had a smirk written on your face as you toyed with the die. 

You knew! You fucking knew! 

As if your tongue wasn’t enough, you moved the die again. This time nibbling on the 19. You watched with amusement at Chance lifted his neck to the feeling of your teeth scraping along his throat. Then, you set the die back down.

“Y-you,” Chance caught his breath, “you regain five points of health back.” He croaked. 

“Awesome. I’d like to use my bonus action to prepare to dodge.” You said, that smirk still on your lips.

“Of course.” He did his best to regain his composure. 

It was now the enemies’ turn, in more ways than one it seemed. 

“One of the skeletons is going to attack you with its longswoooord, oh!” Your tongue was back on the seven. “It, it-” His face had gone bright red now.

“It what?” You pulled back the die, a small strand of saliva breaking away as you did so.

“It hits!” He gasped out as your tongue returned. 

Why was he continuing to let this go on? He knew, oh he knew why. This was only something he could dream of. You knowingly teasing him. However, he knew it would become unbearable if he didn’t do something about it. 

“You didn’t roll though, how did it hit?” You played coy with another cheeky grin. 

“It just does.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing as you returned to pressing the die against your lips. 

“Does it, now?” You nipped at the five, the feeling of your teeth hitting the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. 

“F-fuck. Yes it does!” He slammed his hands on the table, pushing himself up. 

As he lifted up, your eyes darted to the prominent bulge in his pants. The sight had your mouth watering. Oh, you could get used to this. Moving your gaze up, you shivered as you met Chance’s eyes. They were dark, filled with hunger. 

His hands gripped at the table harshly. Fingernails biting into the wood as he tried to keep himself composed. 

You didn’t stop messing with his die. Mouthing around various sides, just slightly avoiding the numbers that would stimulate his sex. A teasing smirk on your lips as you trailed the die along them. 

That darkness in his eyes grew as he let out an audible groan. How much more could he take before he snapped? By now he had to be close to his boiling point. With his shivering body and labored breathing, he would crack soon. 

Staring straight into his eyes, you flicked your tongue out on the seven. There it was, a spark of something even deeper in Chance’s eyes. Want. 

With what little composure he had, Chance marched over to you. Your eyes trailed to his chest as you watched him inhale and release harsh breaths. 

Giving him an innocent bat of your lashes, you looked up at him with a confused stare. Cocking your head to the side as you read the frustration on his face. 

“Is something wrong?” You asked sweetly, pressing the die to your lips. 

“Get up.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command. 

“Why should I?” You decided to tease, see how far you could really push him. 

“Because I’m not asking.” He placed a hand on the back of your chair, leaning his large frame over your body. 

“Maybe you should.” You kissed the six of the die. “It’s polite.” 

“Get up. Or I will make you.” 

Oh. Well that was certainly new. Something that you were very interested in. 

“As you wish.”

He moved away, letting you stand up. As soon as you were on your feet, the man walked you back. Pressing you against your office wall, making you let out a sharp gasp. 

“What’s this all about?” You cocked your head with a coy smile. 

“You and I know very well what ‘this’ is about.” He practically spat. 

He was now nose to nose with you. Hot breaths fanning your face as he pinned you to the wall. 

“What exactly am I supposed to ‘know’, Chance?”

The die in your hand returned to your lips. You gave it a little nip, watching with amusement as his eyes scrunched shut with a groan. Opening them, you were met with that deep look of want once more. It had you shivering. 

“Care if I show you?” He asked lowly. 

“Be my guest.” You feigned an air of confidence, but couldn’t help the slight waver in your voice. His dominating presence had you squirming. 

Slowly, he leaned towards you. Lips puckered to kiss you. Fluttering your eyes shut, you leaned in. Only a low chuckle met you. Instead, Chance’s head turned to kiss up your jaw and down your neck. The featherlight kisses had you letting out soft whines. 

When his mouth reached the crook of your neck, he gave you a soft bite. The feeling had you yelping, making Chance bite you again. This time, lightly scraping his teeth up your neck. 

When he pulled away, he appraised his work. Dark marks now forming around your pulse point and sweet spots along the column of your throat. His thumb lightly brushed over one of the bruises as he let out a satisfied huff. 

“Now, do you know what I’m talking about?” He leaned toward you with an amused hum. Loving the way you squirmed from his close proximity. 

But he couldn’t win that easily. 

“No, I don’t know.” You grinned at him, eyes sparkling teasingly. 

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed your wrist. Holding up the hand that held his die in front of your face. 

“Don’t try to play coy. I know you know.” 

“You still have yet to tell me what I ‘know’, exactly.” You teased. 

“Fine.” He let out a harsh breath. “I can play this game too, you know?” He released your hand. 

His own warm hands slid up your body. Softly caressing you. Leaning in, he whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you want me to keep going…well…” He chuckled darkly. “You’ll see.” 

“I won’t stop you.” You cocked your head to the side giving him a challenging stare. 

With the dice in your hand you brought it to your lips, giving it a kiss on the seven side. You watched Chance shudder and groan at the feeling. 

Suddenly, your hand was pinned to the wall. 

“Do that again, see what happens.” He hissed through gritted teeth. 

With surprising strength, Chance flipped you around. Shoving your chest into the wall. From behind, you felt him press against your body. The outline of his hard cock pushed against your ass. 

“Do you feel what you do to me?” He breathed against your ear. “Do you know what it’s like?” He groaned, grinding himself against you. 

“Know what, what’s like?” You asked quietly. 

“What it’s like,” his hand slid down your torso and teased over your pants, “to be touched, but you can’t do anything about it.” 

Gasping, you tried to cross your legs as he cupped over your sex. With his thigh, he pushed your legs apart. He tsked you with a click of his tongue. 

“Nuh uh, you’re not running away from this.” His hand returned to playing with you over your pants. “After all, I couldn’t run away from you.” 

“B-but you did. You always left the room.” You looked at him over your shoulder, shivering at the lustful gaze deep in his eyes. 

“I certainly tried. But I couldn’t really escape you. Not your lips, not your kisses, your tongue, the biting.” He emphasized the final word with a bite to your shoulder. 

“Ah, mmph!” You moaned as his hand continued to cup over you. Teasing you with light strokes and squeezes. 

As he continued to touch you, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused. Needing some type of friction to assist you. However, Chance didn’t appear to care all too much. Enjoying the sounds of your whimpers and moans as you helplessly took what he gave you. 

Pulling his hand back, you let out a whine. From behind you heard the shuffling of his pants. Chance let them hit the floor. Looking over your shoulder you moaned at the sight. 

Chance stood there, his cock out and standing proud. His length, thick and delicious looking. Fuck, you needed it. 

For a moment, Chance watched you. His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping away. Beads of precum dripping down the shaft. The amused smirk on his face indicated how much he enjoyed watching you squirm. 

“Chance…” You let out a groan. 

“Yes?” His voice held a teasing lilt. 

“Please…”

“Please what? Use your words.” 

“Please just do something!” You whined, dropping your head in exasperation. 

“I am doing something.” He groaned, gripping his dick tighter and pumping faster. 

“You know what I mean!” You huffed in frustration. 

“Do I? You didn’t seem to understand what I was telling you earlier.” He stopped touching himself. 

Pressing his body against yours, he spoke into your ear. 

“So tell me,” he purred, “What. Do. You. Know?” You felt his cock press into your backside. 

“I know! I know that you can feel what happens to your die!” The time for teasing was over, you needed him, NOW. 

“Was that so hard?” He chuckled, placing a soft kiss under your ear. 

Quickly, Chance pulled down your pants and underwear. Warm hands grabbed at the swell of your ass, giving it a squeeze. One of his hands trailed between your legs, cupping your bare sex. The action had you jolting. Every part of your being was on fire from his teasing. Buzzing with an ever growing energy that you wished to dispel. 

Pushing between your legs, you felt Chance’s thick cock. He groaned at the feel of your plush thighs squeezing around his length. The head of his cock brushed up against your awaiting hole, but he didn’t push in. No, instead he continued to fuck your thighs. Gripping them tightly as he thrust in and out. His cock just barely teasing your sex as it brushed past. You whined at the lack of friction, but the man behind you didn’t let up. 

He moaned as he continued to fuck between your legs. Occasionally teasing your hole, but never entering you. A smug smirk on his face as you looked over your shoulder with a glare. 

“Chance, please!” You cried out as he brushed up against your most sensitive parts. “I can’t take it. Please just fuck me!”

“No.” He said lowly as he continued to pummel himself between your legs. 

He leaned over your shoulder, biting into it again. 

“You’re gonna take me like a good little slut. Since you like teasing me like one. So, no whining or complaining.” He growled into your ear before nipping it lightly. 

“I can’t take it!” You felt tears of desperation prick at your eyes. 

“Yes you can.” He moaned, feeling his climax grow nearer. 

“N-no! It’s too much! Please!” Your whimpers only spurred him on. 

Forcing your hips back he fucked between your thighs over and over. Cock brushing up to your hole for the barest amount of friction. 

With a final pump, he let out the lewdest moan. Cock spraying out ropes of cum, painting your thighs white. His arms wrapped around your middle as he shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

His lips pressed soft wet kisses up your throat. Warm hands caressed at your sides. 

Slipping out of your thighs, he groaned lowly. Turning around, you saw the man red in the face. His chest heaving with labored breaths. Despite his tired state, he gave you a smirk. 

He pulled up his pants and walked up to you. Gripping your chin, he brought your face to his. Softly, he pecked your lips. Giving you just a taste of him. He let you go, then turned to walk away. Throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder, he spoke. 

“Now you know how it feels.” 

[crimsonender]

Alright I've been trying to be a good boyo but this needs to be addressed publically.

Here's the thing. Patty is right here. Minors are not evil for wanting to explore their sexuality. But the problem is, is that Patty so blatantly refuses to accept responsibility for her actions that she doesn't realize that if a minor gets hurt while sexually interacting with her, it's not their fault it's hers. And the mere act of having a sexual relationship with a child IS abusive. Period.

This whole fucking rhetoric has smacked of victim blaming from the very beginning. Yeah. Minors do get into adult spaces. And we have to make them leave, as the adults. That's our fucking job! That's what we have to do when kids are trying to engage with us in this way. We need to redirect to healthier outlets, and do our best for the ones we are close to, to get them into therapy and access the resources they need to heal.

I am sorry that Patricia got hurt as a kid. I really am. That shouldn't have happened.

But you don't get to use that to then encourage children to have a sexual relationship with you. We have to wave away this smokescreen of Youth Liberation. Because it's bullshit. That's not what this is about and never has been. Teenagers have sex. I had intimate relationships as a teenager. Most of us have. Some of them good, some or them bad.

But when an adult has a sexual relationship with a child, or encourages a child to have a sexual relationship with them, regardless of if that is online, or in person, that adult is commiting child abuse. They are being a pedophile. And it is always the adult's fault. Every single time.

The way Patricia has spoken about how her sexual misconduct is actually something good for kids in public and to me personally in DMs is very explicitly the thought patterns shared by pedophiles and child abusers. Now I don't know what's in Patricia's heart. I don't know if she's into kids or is just opportunistic and kids are easy to score validation points from, but the point still stands: it is dangerous to think and act like this and perpetuate this rhetoric. I'm not calling out the kids that this happened to. I'm telling the adults around me that we cannot let this shit stand or welcome adults who say this shit around us because they're dangerous.

[b0kevi]

cw for the request, i currently have a small sh addiction in a way and i wanted to know if u would write a male/GN yuu reader who came with sh scars and has a habit to not eat most of the time (cuz i do that), for the characters i specifically would like Deuce, Ruggie, Azul, Kalim, Epel, and Ortho! the ones in orange i would like more than the others if thats to many characters :))

it is perfectly ok if you are uncomfortable doing this request and i respect that wholly , thanks for making these fics and making my day enjoyable lol <33

(TW) Them with a reader who SH

summary: how they would react to a reader who has sh scars and doesn’t eat a lot

trope: hurt/comfort, angst if you squint, fluff

info: can be seen as romantic or platonic, up to you. tw about sh, ed. not proofread, masc reader, no specific pronouns used(i believe) I realized I made this more about ED than the SH..

characters: ruggie, kalim, epel, deuce, azul, ortho (jade, vil, leona, jamil, grim mentioned)

w/c: kalim: 519 ruggie: 488 epel: 378 deuce: 345 azul: 378 ortho: 300

a/n: as someone who struggles w this I get it. tho I've been a year clean, I still struggle w food n stuff but if anyone needs someone to talk to, my dms are open <3

ruggie

at first he didn't mind that you shared your food with him. free food is free food, who is he to say no?

he first thought you took pity on him thats why you would always give him big portions of your food.

"of course not! I just ate earlier so I'm not hungry."

that somehow always became your excuse. it was always 'im not hungry' 'i ate earlier' ‘I don’t like this anyways’ but would hear from grim that you haven't eaten anything since this morning.

you weren’t eating on purpose.

it’s not like he cared, more food for him. so why did it bother him so much?

he would leave snacks around you without a word. a snack on your desk, snack in your backpack, snack on your table, hoping you’ll just take it and eat it. (using leona’s card ofc)

you two were in savannaclaw folding everyone’s laundry. savannaclaw felt hotter than usual so you took off your blazer and rolled up your sleeves without thinking much of it, going back to your work.

at that moment ruggie had looked over at you. he had his fair share of bruises and scars from throughout his life but he knew those were different.

“soo… you gonna tell me what’s up?”

you looked at him puzzled, “sorry?”

ruggie sighed as he nodded his head towards your arms.

oh. right.

“it’s nothing just-“

“yeah that won’t work with me. Come on y/n, you don't have to if you don't wanna but I wont charge you or anything I'm pretty understanding.’’

It’s not that you didn't trust ruggie, you just didn't know how to bring it up.

You sighed— deciding you should tell him. you trusted him despite everyone else.

Reggie was surprisingly a good listener.

He's not the best at advice but it wasn't terrible. again ruggie has been through a lot himself so he would understand a bit. if you don’t want advice and just someone to listen to you, he’ll do that.

afterwards he still uses leona’s card to buy you food, he hates sharing but would give you small portions of his meals just to start. would somehow make time so you two can eat together since he also can go days without eating.

if you feel insecure about your scars he will show you his scars and tells you the story behind them, “this ones from jumping a fence while I was running away from the store clerk- listen the food was out in the open how was I supposed to know I had to pay for it? sheehee”

he can always sense when something’s wrong so will de-escalate before you get any ideas, he always keeps an eye on you just in case

you two are partners in crime, ruggie has your back and you got his. he doesn’t want anything bad happening to you no matter how much he denies it.

kalim

kalim had his suspicions but never said anything because he didn't want to upset you.

there would be time where he would subtly bring it up, hoping you'll open up to him.

"what happened y/n? did grim do that? or.."

he saw your scars and his grin faded, his heart felt heavy but he soon recovered and asked while hovering over your arms.

“oh yeah, grim doesn’t like getting up early so…”

a lie.

grim would never do that to you on purpose.

“right! well if you ever need anything i’m always here for you! i’ll get you whatever you want too! it doesn’t matter what it is!”

then when he noticed you weren’t eating, at first he thought you didn’t like the food or were allergic.

“is it too much seasoning? jamil makes the best food! its not poisoned! do you not like this?”

you would always reassure him that it wasn’t that, you just weren’t hungry at the moment.

kalim would always invite you over to eat, he wouldn’t force you to eat (maybe a little but he doesn’t mean any harm, it’s more like that one time he gave grim a cracker)

after the second week of excuses, kalim will finally bring up what’s on his mind.

“y/n… i’ve noticed you haven’t been eating, is something wrong? are you feeling okay?”

you once again try to brush it off, not wanting to make a big deal out of it but kalim isn’t going to brush it off.

“y/n, you can tell me if something’s wrong. i’m here for you and if you ever need something i’m here! you don’t have to fight this yourself, i want to help you, really.”

kalim truly wants you to know that he will do whatever to help you out, he already knows what happens when he doesn’t check in on people.

he doesn’t want you to bottle up your emotions like jamil did, he knows you won’t overblot but he saw the scars on you and he doesn’t want you to resort to that again.

when you finally do open up, he’s thrilled. he’s a very good listener and also very touchy, will hug you or have an arm around you, playing with your fingers, always lingering but will try his very best to restrain if that makes you uncomfortable.

afterwards he’ll always look out for you. if you eat a small portion he’ll congratulate you, “see! wasn’t that delicious y/n? want a little bit more? no? that’s okay you still ate something which is great!”

praises you for little accomplishments and will cling to you for a while until he sees you’re doing better. he will still cling to you even if you are better but that’s just his nature.

“you’ll tell me if you ever have those urges right? don’t hesitate to call when you’re feeling down okay? my magic carpet is super fast! i’ll be over like that whenever!” he snaps his fingers.

deep down he is truly worried about you and will do everything in his power to be there for you.

epel

honestly epel always thought scars were cool. i mean have you seen leona and how badass he looks?

epel never saw you differently. you were still you, you were still his friend no matter what.

he would never pressure you to tell him what happened. he didn't need to know, he was just glad you were here but whenever you do want to talk, he’ll listen closely while staring at them. not in a weird or disgusted way but almost like studying them, deep in thought.

“you’ve been through so much… these don’t change anything, if anything they show how strong you are. I think they make you look pretty manly too.” he grins trying to lighten the mood.

if you're insecure about your scars he would always remind you how manly or how cool and strong you look. if anyone has a problem with them they'll have to go through him.

when he notices your eating habits he tries to get you to eat at least an apple or something small to start.

“y/n you have to eat if you want to grow strong! bulk up those muscles! vil’s always on me for eating three meals a day and having a proper diet…”

he would always gift you apples but now every time he sees you he gives you an apple.

epel is always by your side kind of like a bodyguard but also a personal reminder, will intimidate anyone who looks at you funny. he will also give you a water bottle or a snack as a reminder to drink/eat something.

he might even seek help out from vil on how to help you out. he wants you two to grow strong together but he's not quite sure what to do.

epel is your personal hype man, he will make sure you feel good about yourself.

he might panic a bit if he sees you're upset, tries his best to calm you down or distract you so you don't do anything crazy.

"vil gave me this face cream that's supposed to help you calm down if you ever feel overwhelmed, here. if you ever feel like that let me know, I'll come over as fast as I can, we'll work it out together okay?"

deuce

when deuce first saw, he didn't know how to react. he didn't say anything in the moment, he didn't know what he should do. should he pretend he didn’t see? say something to comfort you?

He didn't want to upset you or make you uncomfortable with his staring or silence but he was quiet for a while that you knew something was up.

deuce always tries his hardest to comfort you but sometimes he can be messy but you always appreciate his efforts.

“it’s fine deuce, they’re old anyways…” you decide to just rip the bandaid off.

deuce is a great listener, nodding along to show his listening and paying attention to your words.

will give you a hug or rub your back if you’re comfortable with physical touch.

he will immediately go to riddle and ask for advice on how to help you. he wants to do whatever he can to show that he cares but doesn't want to mess it up so he goes for guidance.

deuce also has his fair share of scars from his delinquent days. "I know it's not quiet the same but they just show us how we became stronger. you're here now and that's what matters, we wouldn't have met if you didn't push through."

he always shares his food with you, he lights up when he sees you eating, it might not be much but its a start. he'll be with you throughout every step of your journey.

"this is my favorite, want some? is it good..? yeah? have some more! oh take your time no rush."

you can always feel his stare on you, he tries not to because he can see it sometimes makes you uncomfortable but he's making sure he doesn't miss any signs or signals that you might be feeling upset.

deuce is going to be for you this time, he doesn't want you to go back to those dark times again so he will try to prevent it and make sure you're happy with yourself and taking care of yourself as well.

azul

azul would be very understanding, when he noticed your eating habit and it would remind him of his younger self.

azul has always been self conscious of his appearance; he just tries to hide it. which is why he was quick to pick up on your eating habits.

azul knows you probably don’t want to have this conversation but when you’re constantly not eating he couldn’t take it.

“im not going to be your taste tester jade…” understandable.

“how do i know it’s not poisoned?”

“oh please I made it myself.”

“intriguing but i’m not hungry right now”

interesting.

he would watch you a bit before pulling you into his vip room and ask his burning question.

“y/n, I’ve noticed a pattern… what’s going on?”

of course you played naive. "what are you talking about?"

azul would become vulnerable with you, he should have pulled out a contract and tried to scam you but he didn't want to do that to you. he would most likely make you sign a NDA because he would open up about his past and issues, hoping you would too and does not want that to get out.

azul is not the best at comfort but will listen, he shares his experience to show you, you're not the only one and how he understands what it's like. he would offer his own advice if you ask.

azul doesn't care about your scars, they do sadden him a bit but youre still here and thats all that matters. he has the twins keep an eye on you to look out for signs in case you get overwhelmed.

azul would always drag you to the lounge and bring you simple meals at first, he would set you reminders but he was also your own personal human reminder as well to eat or drink something.

"I can't afford this-"

"free of charge." you stare at him.

"okay first few meals are free then you can pay me back later, but we'll discuss that later. eat." he would let you eat in the vip room so you guys would have privacy and can eat at your own pace.

he hates seeing himself in other people so despite everything azul does want to see you get better.

ortho

ortho knew the first time he saw you, he could read your vitals. all of them were below average, you didn’t need to tell him anything.

ortho would always check in on you. he's used to checking in on idia and reminding him to drink water and eat proper meals so he had no problem doing that with you. also doesn’t mind dropping off meals. ortho would push you a bit harder but he means well, he knows how idia can be so he pushes you in case you’re the same but he knows your boundaries and when to let you be.

ortho would always sit with you to make sure you actually eat, he doesn’t eat himself but he’ll pretend so it makes it seems like you’re both eating together and not just him watching you.

ortho always reminds you that he’s there for you, if you ever want to talk or hang out to get your mind off things.

I feel like ortho would give baymax vibes and look up solutions and gather friends to help you.

he’s super supportive and reassuring, but can be overprotective in the beginning, if he sees anyone being rude to you- he will not hesitate to get his laser out.

“y/n l/n! if you ever feel the urge to self harm, I have some alternatives that might help! if they don’t, don’t worry i’ll find more! please let me know if you ever feel like that, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you..”

"y/n l/n! It's time for lunch!"

"I already ate ortho"

"no you didn't, according to my scans you havent even eaten breakfast! come on let's go! you can't fool me y/n!"

he means well and is willing to lend a helping hand.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

a/n: I remember one time at work my coworker saw my scars and was like 'omg what happened? was it a cat?' I just changed the subject n said sure my cat (who has no front claws) did that..

IDK WHY EPEL IS SO HARD FOR ME TO WRITE- i tried..

orthos part is def platonic.. idk if i need to specify for that..

[scxrletivy]

Like in the 40s

Description: you and Bucky are good friends; he has told you a lot about his life in the 40s, but you're curious about what dating was like back then. So you go on a date, which has an unexpected ending. Or: two idiots in love who only need a little push.

The story is set after Civil War; the Avengers are all a big family and there's no Thanos (sue me, I needed to comfort myself).

Author's note: sooo... this is my first attempt at writing here. I've always loved writing but in the last years I stopped because I felt like I had completely lost my inspiration. Then I saw Thunderbolts, fell in love again with Bucky and here I am! Just so you know, English is not my first language, so forgive me for possible mistakes.

Word count: 2.7k.

This story is my original work and I do not give permission for anyone to copy, share or repost it anywhere without my explicit consent.

“So, how was dating in the 40s?”

You were lounging on the couch in Bucky’s room, reading a book. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon at the Tower. You and Bucky hadn’t been called up with the team for a recon mission in Eastern Europe; the last job you had been assigned had been difficult, so Tony had decided that it was better to let you stay put. Normally you would’ve complained, but you had seen how shaken Bucky was after the last mission and you were more than happy to stay and keep him company.

You had felt an inexplicable bond with him ever since you had seen him for the first time in Bucharest all those years ago; it had been a long and bumpy road: you had been through some truly hard times, but it had all led you there.

It was clear Bucky liked your company as well; it had been difficult for him to become part of the group: he felt like he did not deserve to get a second chance, he always felt like he needed to make amends. Even after Tony had officially forgiven him for what had happened, repeating at least a thousand times that he was not responsible for his parents’ death, you knew Bucky still felt like he did not belong. You had talked about it with Steve oftentimes; you two were the closest with Bucky and did everything in you power to help him feel as at ease as possible. It was clear that Bucky was comfortable with you; you could spend hours together, strolling around the city, watching movies, simply being silent.

Or reading, like that day. You were laying on his couch, while he was sitting on the floor with his head on the cushion. For the longest time you had tried to convince him to stop sitting on the floor; then, you had realised that it was something he needed sometimes. You had even tried to sit beside him, but he categorically refused to let you lay on the floor.

That afternoon, you had been reading for a few hours. But you were starting to feel bored. So, you had closed the book and put it down on your stomach. Then you had asked Bucky the question.

He was confused for a moment.

“What?”

“How was dating in the 40s?” you repeated, turning on your side. “I’m curious, you know… you’ve told me so much about your life back then, but that’s a topic we’ve never talked about and, to be honest, I’m really curious.”

Bucky put down the book and turned around as well, to look you in the eyes. He chuckled.

“I mean, it’s not like I’ve been on a thousand dates, you know…” for a moment he seemed to lose himself in the memories. “I went on a few dates, but then I was shipped off to war and… you know the rest…”

You put a comforting hand on his shoulder. You felt bad all of a sudden, the last thing you wanted was to bring him back to darker times. He had opened up with you about many of the awful things he had lived through and you had spent many nights holding him while he told you about what he remembered from the 70 years of torture, fighting back tears but feeling something break inside at the thought of him going through all that. Still, you were aware of the fact that there were things he had not shared – and probably never would – and never pushed him to talk or asked him directly. You were more than happy to listen if he needed to talk. You were about to open your mouth to tell him you didn’t mean to upset him, but he preceded you.

He got up and gently moved you to sit on the couch; then he let you get comfortable near him.

“I remember this one girl I went on a few dates with, Dolores. I saved all the money I had to take her out and blew three bucks just to try to win her a stuffed bear. When I got home I didn’t have the guts to tell my parents I had spent all the money I had,” he let out a soft laugh. “I can tell you it was quite different compared to today. I don’t have much experience about how things are nowadays, if I’m being honest, but I’ve heard things here and there and let me assure you, things have really changed. Now everyone is more relaxed, back then even holding hands was a big deal. I almost got in trouble more times than I can count.”

He was fully laughing by that point.

“Oh, I can imagine you. James Buchanan Barnes, you big flirt!”

“Don’t make fun of me, doll, I had moves”

“Oh, I believe you”

You were silent for a second, then you took the courage to ask a question that had been nagging you for quite a while.

“Do you ever think about trying dating again?”

He sighed and began tracing circles on your shoulder.

“Sometimes I think about it, but I mean… you know how it is with our lives, we’re not really normal people with ordinary lives. Plus, all my baggage. It’s not like I can begin a date by saying ‘Hi, I’m Bucky, I’m a 106-year-old ex-assassin, do you like pizza?’… Besides, I don’t know if I’d be good at all the modern stuff. Peter told me about something called situationships and I’ll tell you, doll, my heart almost fell out of my chest”

You laughed. You could perfectly imagine the shocked expression on Bucky’s face. You could not begin to imagine how disorienting and confusing it could be for him to discover all the new aspects of modern life and you deeply admired how much Bucky pushed himself and put himself out there to try new things; it was hard for him, but he was brave.

The words got out of your mouth before you knew it.

“We could go on a date. We could do everything like back then, like you used to do in the 40s”, you straightened to look him in the eyes.

He was silent for a moment, and you felt suddenly nervous, realising what you had just proposed to him.

“I mean, we don’t have to… it’s just, I want to do something nice for you, to make you feel good. I know you miss the old times and it might be cute, like time-travel”, you said shyly.

Bucky delicately took your hand.

“I think that’s a great idea, sweetheart. Tomorrow night, 6 p.m. sharp. I’ll take care of everything.”

You checked the time on your phone for the umpteenth time. 5.56 p.m.

Bucky told you he was going to pick you up at you room’s door, like a gentleman; you had spent the last two hours deciding what to wear, how to do your make up, how to fix your hair… you kept repeating to yourself that it didn’t matter, it wasn’t an official date, it was only a ‘fake’ date with your best friend Buck. But your heart was hammering in your chest. Because – if you were truly being honest with yourself – then no, it was not only a fake date with a friend. Bucky wasn’t just a friend. You had realised the depth of your feelings for him when you had been fighting Thanos, in Wakanda; Bucky had been hit and you swore you felt your heart stop for a second. It was a sudden realisation: you loved him, he had slowly but steadily become a fundamental part of you and you couldn’t lose him. In the aftermath of the fight, you had considered telling him; but you knew you were an important person for him – an important friend – and you had decided to suppress your feelings. Bucky needed your support as a friend. Two years had passed and you were still harbouring an unrequited crush for the Brooklyn boy.

In that moment, you deeply regretted suggesting the date. Who in their right mind would suggest a romantic date with the guy they loved, who didn’t love them back. It was assured heartbreak: you were going to experience how it would’ve felt to be Bucky’s girlfriend, only to go back to being his friend afterwards. You’d probably be devastated; you’d go back to her room, watch a romcom and cry yourself to sleep.

You were brought back to reality by three knocks on her door; you took a deep breath and opened it, to reveal an image that almost knocked the wind out of you. Bucky was standing in front of you, wearing a deep blue Henley and jeans that fit him snugly. And, in his hands, he was carrying a bouquet of light-pink peonies. Your favourite flowers. He had remembered.

He was the first to talk.

“Hi doll, you look beautiful”

“Thanks Buck, you look really handsome too,” you answered, blushing.

He looked at her straight in the eyes and smiled. Then he handed her the bouquet.

“These are for you, sweetheart”

You took them and delicately inhaled the perfume.

“Thank you Bucky, you didn’t need to”

“Nonsense, doll. You wanted the full 40s experience… well, there you have it”

You shook your head, suppressing a smile. “Let me find a vase and then we can go”, you said.

The restaurant Bucky had chosen was not too distant from the Tower, so you decided to walk and enjoy the late spring breeze. The sun was setting, casting beautiful shades of orange, yellow and red.

The conversation was flowing, as it always did between you two: talking with Bucky was easy, as easy as breathing. You were having a heated discussion about the last movie you had watched together when, all of a sudden, Bucky took your hand in his. You were startled: sure, you guys were close, but you knew that physical affection was still a sensitive topic for him. You were willing to take every little piece of himself he gave you, but you were never going to force him to do anything, so each little gesture meant the world to you. You turned your head to look at him, wondering if he was feeling as panicky as you, but he was completely calm; he gave you a little smile and kept talking.

After a few minutes of walking and talking, you reached the restaurant; it was a cosy place, with little candle-lit rooms and a nice atmosphere. Bucky was the perfect gentleman, opening the door for you, then helping you with the chair and asking your opinion regarding the foods on the menu so you could share.

“The pasta seems good, but I also kinda want to try the risotto” you commented, biting your lip.

“You’ll get the pasta and I’ll get the risotto, and then we can share” replied Bucky with a stunning smile.

You smiled. It was shaping up to be a great night.

By the time the first dishes arrived, you had already drunk a glass of wine and it had definitely helped ease the nerves you were feeling before. You felt stupid for having been worried: at the end of the day, you were spending time with your best friend; you were willing to accept to be Bucky’s friend and nothing more if it meant having him in your life.

“Mmmh, it’s incredible”, you uttered when you tried the pasta. You closed your eyes for a second to savour the feeling and when you opened them again, Bucky was looking at you with a strange look in his eyes.

“The risotto is just as good. Here, try it” he said, scooping up some of the pasta with the fork and offering to him.

However, instead of taking the utensil from you, he took the bite of food directly from the fork. You flushed a deep red.

“I thought it was supposed to be a date like one in the 40s”, you said with a teasing smile, “but I’m pretty sure this is way too forward”

“Like you said, doll, I was a charmer. It was the 40s, but I still knew how to properly seduce a dame” he chuckled.

He was looking at you like he wanted to eat you up; you felt naked under his eyes and even hopeful, for a second, that maybe you were not imagining things, that maybe you weren’t the only one who wanted something more out of your relationship. You shook the thought as soon as it came. You couldn’t dare to hope. The heartbreak would be too devastating.

“Oh, I’m sure you were a Casanova… we’ve all heard Steve’s stories about the ladies falling at your feet” you deflected.

“You know, Steve exaggerates sometimes… I wasn’t that big of a flirt, all things considered”

“Sargeant Barnes, lying is bad, you know?”

“Are you by any chance suggesting that I’m a liar? You wound me, doll. You know I’m a man of honour”

He took your hand and began rubbing circles on your wrist. You felt electric, like a current was flowing through your veins lighting up all of your nerves.

Yeah, he was trying to kill you.

The rest of the meal passed in a blur, between bites of shared food and flirty comments from Bucky. Instead of ordering dessert, he suggested to take a walk and get ice cream; he was the perfect gentleman, helping you with the chair, paying for dinner and immediately taking your hand once you got out of the restaurant. He let you try his ice cream and offered you his jacket when you began shivering in the cool air of the night.

When you arrived in front of the Tower, you felt a deep sense of panic set in your bones; the entire elevator ride, you couldn’t help but playing with your hands anxiously. You had had a great time with Bucky and you couldn’t help but imagining how it would’ve felt to be his girlfriend and be able to go on dates with him all the time; you knew you shouldn’t have thought about your friend in such a way, but it was impossible for you to stop wondering how it would’ve felt to kiss him, feel his lips on yours and cuddle up against him.

You were shaken from your thoughts when the elevator chimed; you had reached you floor.

Bucky let you get out first; ever the perfect gentleman, he led you to your room. When you reached your door, you slowly opened it and turned to look at him. He was so handsome, with his hair slicked back and the playful gleam in his eyes.

You were ready to thank him for the perfect night, close the door, change into a comfortable pajama and wallow in self-pity, when Bucky took your hand and spoke.

“Doll…” he looked at you straight in the eyes. His gaze held an intensity you had rarely witnessed and you felt your stomach do a flip.

“I really hope I’m not reading this whole situation wrong because I would hate to lose you. But I can’t be silent anymore,” he took your other hand as well and brought it to his chest “you are the best part of my day. Sharing coffee with you, reading together, doing nothing… every single moment together feels like a gift from life, a privilege I never thought I deserved anymore. You make me feel like I can finally stop fighting and running from myself, my past and my demons.”

He got closer and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“I think you feel the same and I’m quite sure I’m not mistaken. So, doll, if you’re okay with it, I’d really like to kiss you… and maybe take you out on another date.”

You were completely stunned; you felt you had lost the ability to speak and you didn’t even trust yourself to be able to form a coherent thought. So, you did the only reasonable thing. You stood on your tiptoes and kissed him. He was shook at first, clearly not expecting you to take the lead, but he immediately returned the kiss.

It wasn’t fireworks and bombs going off. It was a calm, quiet feeling of peace.

When you broke the kiss, Bucky put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes. You finally spoke.

“I know I asked for a date like in the forties, but you know… I wouldn’t be opposed to you coming into my room and kissing me some more…”

He let out a soft laugh. Maybe things had change a little bit compared to the Forties but hell, he definitely wasn't complaining.

[applecaviar]

Part 2 Land of No Return sketches! Your fic lets me listen to my Zayne playlist again without tearing up (much) :"D thank you so much for writing it! I really love the story and the way you write the characters 💖

I'm sorry for taking such a long time to update.

Thank you again to all of you that liked/reblogged and commented on this fic. I love every single one of you ☺️.

Thank you again to @roschea-arts for the sketches!

Land of no return Part 9/End

Part 8

Later that night, as Zayne slept soundly, you crept out of the bedroom wearing his shirt, needing a sip of water to quench your thirst. Padding softly into the kitchen, you grabbed a glass and filled it, taking small sips as you stood there, lost in thought.

While gulping down the cold water, your gaze fell upon a stack of books on the living room counter. Curious you approached the stack and picked up the top book. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the familiar spines, they were the same books as the ones gathering dust on your own bookshelf back home. The sight of them here, sent a warm glow through your chest.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned to see Zayne, now awake, walking towards you with a soft smile on his face. He had a look of contentment, of a man who had found something precious and never wanted to let it go.

"I figured," he said, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep, "that at some point, we might end up reading the same book at the same time. Maybe even the same page." He stepped closer, taking the book from your hands and glancing at the dog eared page. "It made me feel like you weren't so far away after all."

Your heart clenched in your chest at his words, a wave of emotion washing over you. It was a bittersweet feeling, of joy and sadness, hope and fear.

 "I want you to know that forgiveness isn't something I can ask for. It's yours to give, when and if you're ready. I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

His words hung in the air and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, " I'm still in love with you, Zayne."

The confession shocked you both, but the impact of it was immediate. Zayne's hands shot up, cupping your face with tenderness as he pulled you into a kiss.

The kiss said everything that words could not express, a new beginning, a fresh start, a second chance at the love you had once shared.

He gazed into your eyes, his own blazing with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. "I was frightened," he began, "I still am. The depth of my love for you, it's... it consumes me. I think of you constantly, each waking moment is filled with your presence, your memory..."

He paused, his thumbs caressing your cheeks with delicate reverence. "One day I woke with a love so fierce it terrified me. My body ached for your touch, though miles stretched between us. In my heart, I've constructed a sanctuary dedicated solely to you. Every beat, every thought, every fiber of my being is intertwined with my love for you."

"Oh, Zayne," you breathed, your lips brushing against his own as you whispered your own fears "I'm scared too. The thought of losing you again, of enduring this again terrifies me. I can't... I won't let myself go through that again."

"From the moment we were just kids, a part of me, the cautious part, urged me to turn away, to guard my heart against the risk of loving you. It warned me that I could hurt you, that I was not worthy of your love."

His fingers tangled gently in your hair. "But my soul," he continued, "it feels like it has found its home in you. And when you find a place that feels so right, that feels so undeniably perfect, you know you can't lock the door. I know that here, in my arms, you are safe."

His voice cracked slightly with emotion as he continued, his words flowing from a place of deep vulnerability. "For so long, I viewed myself through a lens of self loathing, convinced that I was inherently flawed, a bad person undeserving of love and happiness. Every time I look in the mirror, I see the mistakes I've made, the pain I've caused. But when you look at me, truly look into my eyes, and I see the way you see me... it means everything to me."

He paused, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat. *"The gods don't listen to people like me, but I would go on my knees and beg them to let me keep you. You were once the bane of my existence...and now you are the center of it"

He gave you a moment to let his words sink in, to feel their weight and their truth. Then his lips claimed yours once more.

He swept you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he carried you bridal style towards the bedroom. The world seemed to fall away, the rest of the house fading into a distant blur as all you could focus on was the feel of his arms around you, the steady beating of his heart beneath your palm.

When he reached the bed, he gently laid you down upon the soft mattress, his body hovering over you, his eyes locked with yours.

"Let me make love to you."

You nodded, your heart swelling with love and desire as his words washed over you. With a gentle touch, he began to unbutton his shirt on your body.

His gaze drifted over your bare skin, hazel eyes darkening with a hunger that sent a thrill racing down your spine. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the hollow of your throat, his breath hot against your skin.

His fingers traced the delicate line of your collarbone, the curve of your breast. He cupped the soft weight in his palm, his thumb teasing over the hardened peak until you arched into his touch, craving more.

He took his time as his lips moved lower, a path of fire and velvet, worshipping every inch of skin he exposed.

"Tell me, my love," lips trailing kisses along your jawline, "how can I worship this body that houses the soul I adore?" His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips as he settled himself between your thighs.

"I want to learn you all over again, rediscover the secrets your body holds." His lips found yours again while his hips rocked against yours, the hard length of him pressing insistently against your core.

He broke the kiss, only to blaze a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, until he reached the swell of your breasts. He paused, looking up at you before taking your nipple into his mouth and suckling hard.

When he slid into you, his entry was a slow, loving glide, his cock parting your folds with deliberate tenderness. He savored each inch, his eyes locked with yours, drinking in your every reaction,his forehead coming to rest gently against your own.

"Perfect," he whispered "You are always so perfect, around me, with me, a part of me."

A low groan escaped his lips when you rolled your hips, sinking him to the hilt. He moved with maddeningly slow thrusts, each drive of his hips a sensual torment. His lips trailed reverent kisses along your skin, worshipping your mouth, your neck, your breasts. He held your waist with a desperate grip, as if afraid you might vanish like a mirage if he let go.

When you felt his cock nestled against your belly, you cried out, your back arching off the bed. The sensation of him, so deep and so hard, was too much to bear.

"Please," you begged "faster, Zayne. I need... I need..."

"Patience, my love," he murmured against your lips, "there will be many more nights, many more chances... tonight I want to take my time."

Just as you thought you might combust from the slow burn of his love, his hand slid between your bodies. Skilled fingers found your swollen clit, circling the sensitive nub with light touches. His length striking your G-spot with each slow deep thrust.

It didn't take long before the coil of tension in your core snapped, your body convulsing beneath his as your orgasm crashed over you.

Zayne groaned when he felt your gummy walls clench around him. He stilled his thrusts, savoring the exquisite sensation of your body gripping him like a vise, a heaven he never wanted to leave.

Your mouth was a perfect O, your cheeks flushed a rosy hue, the breathy moans spilling from your lips were music to his ears, each one making it harder for him to hold back, to keep his slow, steady rhythm.

"One more," He leaned in close, his lips brushing yours "I need to feel you come just one more time."

His fingers flew over your sensitive clit, rubbing faster, harder, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the room. Your mind was hazy, your thoughts scattered, lost in the fog of overstimulation. But the feeling in your core, the coil of tension winding tighter and tighter, was undeniable.

You were coming again, too fast, too soon. The slow drag of his cock was too much and too perfect. Your vision went white, stars exploding behind your eyelids as a second orgasm ripped through you, soaking his cock and the sheets beneath you.

Zayne followed you over the edge. His head thrown back, his eyes squeezing shut, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he held you open, finding his release deep inside you.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

In the end, Caleb had been right. Your friends, though not initially pleased with the turn your relationship had taken, came to respect and accept your decision. As much as they disliked admitting it, your happiness was what mattered most, and if Zayne was the one who brought that joy to your life, then they would have to accept it.

Months later, on the night of Zayne's marriage proposal, the atmosphere was tense yet expectant. All of your friends had been invited, and to their credit, they all attended, despite their reservations about the man who had once caused you pain.

Rafayel was the first to break the ice. With his girlfriend, Lila, by his side, he made his way over to where Zayne stood, a drink in hand, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face, and he extended his free hand towards Zayne.

"Congratulations," Rafayel said, his voice was filled with a sincerity that caught Zayne off guard. "I know we got off to a rocky start, but seeing the way you love her... well, I can't deny that you're good for her."

Zayne grasped Rafayel's hand in a firm shake. "Thank you," he said "That means a lot, coming from you."

The day you walked down the aisle towards the man you loved, Caleb stood tall and proud by your side. His eyes glistening with unshed tears of joy and pride. He had watched you grow, had been there through all of your life's ups and downs, and seeing you now, radiant and in love, filled his heart with warmth.

When you reached the altar where Zayne waited, his eyes locked with yours, Caleb turned to face the man who would soon become your husband.

"I knew this day would come," he began "ever since the day I saw you cry when she got hurt on the swings." He placed your hand in Zayne's, a symbolic gesture that meant putting your heart in the hands of the man who stood before you. "I'm entrusting you with the most precious thing in the world to me. Take care of her"

He felt a surge of gratitude towards his soon to be brother in law, knowing that this signified a true olive branch, a sincere effort to bury the hatchet and start anew.

Almost a year later after your wedding, you found yourself attending another ceremony, that of your best friend Xavier. As the newlyweds shared their first kiss as husband and wife, a chorus of cheers and applause erupted from the guests, the joyous atmosphere palpable.

Amidst the celebrations that followed, a smiling Xavier made his way towards you. Zayne's brows raised slightly in surprise, unsure of what to expect. The tension between them had dissipated since your wedding, replaced by a tentative truce born of mutual respect. But this was different, this was Xavier taking a significant step towards bridging the gap that had once existed between them.

He stopped in front of Zayne, extending his hand in a gesture of goodwill. "I now know the things people do for love," he said "And I see now that you would move mountains and cross oceans for her. I respect that."

As they stood there, hands clasped you couldn't help but feel a swell of love and gratitude in your heart. To see your loved ones coming together, accepting and respecting the choices that you had made, was the greatest gift you could have ever received. 

Sylus was a whole other story, always distant and wary of Zayne, walking carefully around him for years. It was like he was tip toeing on delicate eggshells, never quite sure how to act or what to say.

But everything changed when Sylus's baby girl was born. She needed important heart surgery, and Sylus found himself desperate for the best care possible for his precious daughter. Without hesitation, he showed up at your house, practically begging Zayne to help save her life.

For Zayne, the surgery was a simple procedure given his skill and experience. But for Sylus, the thought of his daughter's tiny heart in Zayne's hands was the most terrifying and vulnerable moment of his life. Zayne knew that he held the most valuable thing to Sylus, more precious than anything in the world.

When the surgery was a resounding success, and Sylus's baby girl began to recover, he thanked Zayne profusely, finally extending a hand of friendship, a gesture he had once sworn he would never make.

In the months that followed, Sylus and Zayne's relationship blossomed into an unlikely but deep bond. The two men, once separated by pride and resentment, became close friends. It was a testament to the power of redemption, forgiveness, and the unbreakable ties of family.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Sweetie...Aurora, I said you could only have one macaroon," you reminded your daughter, keeping an eye on her as she nibbled the sweet treat.

Nearby, a young boy around Aurora's age sat with his mother. His deep blue eyes and red hair seemed vaguely familiar, though you couldn't quite place why.

"Too much sugar is bad for your heart..." Startled, you looked over at the boy who seemed to be addressing Aurora.

"Eli, don't bother the little girl," his mother said, glancing at Aurora apologetically.

"But Mama, Papa said it's bad, and he's a heart doctor!"

"My dad is a heart doctor too," Aurora said proudly, "and he eats looooots of sweets!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at the innocent, if not entirely accurate, observation from your daughter. It was clear that Zayne's love for both his family and his favorite treats was an open secret.

Aurora turned to the young boy and, with a friendly smile, offered him the open box of tiny macaroons. "Do you want one?" she asked sweetly.

Eli's eyes lit up at the sight of the tempting treats. He looked up at his mother, his deep blue eyes wide and hopeful. "Can I, Mama?"

The boy's mother smiled indulgently and nodded. "Just one, baby," she said, giving him permission to indulge in the small sweet.

Eli's face broke into a big grin as he reached into the box and plucked out a single macaroon. "Thank you," he said, his manners already well ingrained despite his young age. He took a small bite of the macaroon, his eyes widening in delight at the taste. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing and looking back up at Aurora.

"Eli's still getting used to our move here. He's a bit shy around new people, as you might have guessed." His mother explained

Eli fiddled with the macaroon in his small hand before looking up at her with a shy smile. "I like your dress, it's very pretty."

Aurora returned his smile with a warm one of her own. "Thank you, I got it for my birthday." Eli walked closer to Aurora, heads bent as they chatted excitedly about things that mattered most to kids their age, their favorite toys and cartoons. They seemed to have quickly found common ground, the initial awkwardness of meeting a stranger melting away in the warmth of shared interests.

"So, your husband will be working here as well?" you asked, making polite conversation.

"Yes, that's right. He's just in talks with the head of the department at the moment, but he's due to start later this week"

Just then, the sound of a door closing echoed behind you, and a voice that was all too familiar rang out. "Eli... what are you doing?" the voice asked, startling both children.

You turned around to see Aurora and Eli, their little mouths stuffed with tiny macaroons, their eyes wide and cheeks bulging comically. As you followed their gaze, your own eyes widened when they landed on a face you had not expected to see again after your breakup many years ago Dr. Elijah.

Your eyes locked with his for a few seconds, long enough to register the surprise and recognition in his gaze. But just as quickly, his eyes flicked away from you and settled on his son.

Elijah walked over to his son, kneeling down to the boy's level. "Looks like you made a new friend," he said warm with a smile, gesturing to Aurora.

"She's Auwora! Her papa is a doctor too, just like you!"

You stood up, taking Aurora's small hand in yours as she held out the nearly empty box of macaroons. "I'm sorry, they were really yummy," she said, her little face scrunched up in a slightly guilty but still satisfied expression.

As you and Aurora approached Zayne, Elijah stood and took his son's hand, walking to his wife. He nodded to you politely before turning to Zayne and saying, "We'll be on our way then, I'll be expecting that paperwork soon, Dr. Li."

Elijah glanced at you one last time, giving a small tip of his head in farewell, before turning to his wife. With a look of contentment on his face, he led his family out of the waiting room. He looked really happy. He deserved it.

You tried to act as if the unexpected encounter hadn't happened, turning to Zayne and joking lightly, "Getting her a box of those was a bad idea, huh?"

Zayne picked up Aurora, holding her close as he teased gently, "The dentist won't be happy if you get cavities, no more macaroons for you, little munchkin."

With Aurora giggling and squirming in Zayne's arms, her little legs kicking slightly as she laughed, you started walking towards the hospital exit. You strolled ahead of them, blissfully unaware of the sweet mischief your daughter was up to behind you.

Aurora, with a sly grin on her face, held out the last few macaroons from the nearly empty box to Zayne. "Here Daddy, you have some too!" she said in a conspiratorial whisper, encouraging him to eat them quickly before you noticed.

Zayne, not wanting to miss out on the tasty treat opportunity, quickly popped the remaining macaroons into his mouth one by one, chewing and swallowing them as fast as he could.

Just as you reached the automatic doors of the exit, Aurora piped up loudly, "Bye bye macaroons!

*quote I love love love from a book called Nightbane by Alex Aster. It fits Zayne perfectly.

@lioria @midiplier @gawa-ng-gabi

@certainduckanchor @asakiyu @crazyzombieblaze @roschea-arts @feralkuromi @redhead-maiden @zaynies-wifey @lorddyz @hoe-in-deepspace

[kinardnatural]

Hello, could you share your thoughts on how buck would react if tommy manages to hide an injury from him for two or three days? If you are in the mood to the write a small fic , I would appreciate it a lot.

I imagine buck failing to notice tommy hiding it and only finding it because someone else telling him. Then buck is angry at tommy and gets insecure thinking if he really is a good boyfriend since he didn't notice the obvious signs.

Thank you for doing this

I've got you, anon! A slight warning for medical inaccuracies!

SEND BUCKTOMMY PROMPTS/ASKS

They don't waste any time whenever they both have their days off lining up together, and this time was no different. Once Tommy opens the door to his house, Buck is on him like a cat in heat, mouth eagerly exploring and tasting his mouth as Tommy drags him inside to spare his neighbours eyes. He responds just as eagerly, hands landing on Buck's hips to pull him flush against him, causing Buck to use his own body to pin the pilot against the wall. His hands trails down to the waistline of his pants, fingers digging into his skin when Tommy suddenly starts to tense up.

Sensing the shift in tension, Buck pulls away slightly to look at his boyfriend curiously. Tommy doesn't say anything, but leans in to press a more gentle kiss onto the corner of Buck's lips and slides away from the wall.

"How about you order us something to eat while I pick a movie?" He suggests. He pats Buck on his shoulder. Pats him on his shoulder like an old pal.

"Uh. Sure?"

It may be strange for Tommy to put a stop to it, especially when he had seemed just as eager, but Buck doesn't question it, and it's all forgotten once they've had their food and Tommy rests his head on Buck's lap as they watch some movies.

---

It's the morning after when Buck starts to feel a little bit suspicious that something is off. Tommy is already out of bed when he wakes up and already fully dressed, moving his way through the kitchen as he makes them breakfast. He greets Buck with his usual scrunchy smile and pulls him in for a kiss. Buck doesn't waste any time and deepens the kiss, licking his way into Tommy's mouth in a way that earns him a hungry moan and a tight grip on his hips as he is being backed up against the counter. With Tommy falling asleep early the previous night, they hadn't had the chance to explore each other like this, and now Buck was more than eager to take advantage of the given chance. Tommy was too, or so it seemed until he made a noise and pulled away abruptly, face flushed and pupils blown in arousal. But there was a mixture of something else in Tommy's expression that Buck couldn't put his finger on.

"Pancakes," he murmurs, and steps away from Buck's space to continue with the breakfast and once again leaving Buck feeling confused, because this was not at all normal. In many other occasions, Tommy had been quick to turn off the stove and pull all of his focus and energy on Buck. Not today, apparently.

Naturally, Buck's brain goes right into spiraling. Tommy had been into it, right? He hadn't imagined it. So why was he once again putting an end to it before going further?

It wasn't that Buck absolutely needed sex every time they hung out. Being near Tommy was more than good enough, but even so, it almost seemed like Tommy was trying to avoid it altogether.

---

"I don't think he's into me anymore, " he confides in Hen when he's back on his shift. The woman stares back at Buck in utter disbelief.

"Now, I know that can't be true," she says confidently. "Not in this universe."

"You don't know it's not true," Buck argues, and Hen scoffs at him.

"The truth is as obvious as the trees in a forest, Buck. It's all right there. All it takes is to see him in the same vicinity as you to know that he is absolutely a hundred percent into you."

And while it warms Buck to hear that, the doubts are still there, creeping around inside his head like little bugs. "So why won't he have sex with me?" He whines. "I-it's not about the sex. He's acting weird whenever things get hot and heavy and just stops. A-and if you know Tommy, you know he doesn't just stop. He's very--"

"Mmh. Spare me the details. Please," Hen begs. "Better yet, maybe you should try and ask him. I'm sure he has his reasons, but whatever they are, it's not you. He loves you, Buck."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm always right."

---

That's how he finds himself at the harbor station after his shift. Maybe Hen is right. It's not like Tommy is completely avoiding him. He's been very chatty over the phone and over texts. So Buck figures that maybe he would be happy if Buck shows up on his shift for an impromptu visit.

"Buckley! What are you doing here?"

Buck grins widely at Lucy and scoffs at her question. "I'm here to see Tommy, of course. Is he out flying? Do you mind if I wait here to--"

"He's not here," Lucy says, frowning. "He's off for another week until he's fully healed. I figured you'd know that."

"Uh... healed?"

"Yeah. From the-- he didn't tell you, did he?" Lucy sighs in exasperation. "Kinard, when I get my hands on you..."

"Tell me what? Lucy, d-did he get himsels hurt?"

"He took a tumble and banged up his hips pretty badly. That was almost a week ago-- I can't believe he didn't tell you!"

"That makes the two of us," Buck mutters. Now when he thinks about it, Tommy had avoided to do too much moving around the last time he had been there. With the exception for the breakfast, he had remained mostly on the couch and had been resting a lot. Probably due to pain killers, Buck now realized.

"He probably didn't want to worry you," Lucy offers. "You know how he is. Always putting his brave face on. It's one of his more annoying traits that always ends up biting him in the ass."

"How bad was it?"

"Nothing broken. but bad enough for him to rest and heal. He's not supposed to move around too much, hence the medical leave."

"R-right. Thanks, Lucy."

"Give him extra hell from me, Buckley."

---

"Evan! Wha--?"

Buck doesn't wait for an invite, but passes Tommy as he enters his house in silent determination. Tommy hesitates before closing the door behind him and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Lucy told you."

"Yeah. Lucy told me."

"Evan--"

"Were you going to tell me at all? Or were you planning to hide it and hope for me to never find out?"

Tommy shrugs, looking defeated. "I don't know. I didn't want to--"

"Worry me? Oh, but you did, Tommy. I knew something was off. You kept pulling away from me, and I thought that was all me, first. T-that you weren't into me anymore. A-and then I had to find out from Lucy that you had gotten yourself hurt, and that, Tommy, felt more hurtful than the alternative." He exhaled a shaky breath when he looked back at Tommy, who seemed horrified by the implication.

"Christ! Evan, no, I-- I never meant to make you think that... shit. I am so sorry, Evan. I-- you were so excited to get here. I didn't want to ruin it."

"Ruin it?" Buck repeats, frowning. "Why would you getting hurt ruin the time we spend together?"

"It wouldn't, " Tommy insists. "I just get in my head sometimes that... I wouldn't be enough fun, and I want you to always enjoy yourself around me, Evan. Not..." he sits down. "Me not being able to do things with you or for you."

Buck stares at him for a moment and lets out a scoff. "You. Silly. Idiot." He huffs, punctuating each word with a kiss on Tommy's lips. "Tommy. I love you. I'm your partner. I want to be with you. A-and I want to be here for you like you've always been here for me. Let me take care of you for once."

Tommy looks at him, eyes hesitant, but hands reaching out to touch Buck's before he nods. "I'd like that."

Satisfied, Buck finally smiles and leans forward to press another kiss onto his lips. "Good. And God forbid, if you get hurt again--"

"Kind of unavoidable in our line of work," Tommy deadpans. Buck lets out another huff.

"Just tell me next time, okay? Id rather hear it from you. Not Lucy. Not anyone else."

Tommy lifts his hand to kiss the back of it. "You have my word."

[lonelylonelyghost]

MURDERBOOOOOT ep.10

That was fucked up but also a little bit funny

I mean can you imagine if that was real?

At this moment I had to stop watching and pace around my room for a while

what do you mean.

WHAT DO YOU MEEEEEEAN!!!!

Well of course it doesn't you piece of shit

Of course, Madam President. Would you like to take a sit, Madam President? My face is - *gets dragged away and shot in the back of the head*

In my defence, judging by his face Gurathin probably had the same thought

yeah...

I only noticed it while making this post, but I LOVE the stark contrast of the tone between what was going on during the expedition and now that they're back in the Corporation grounds. Despite the hostile fauna and constant and immediate threats to their lives from every side, the "civilized" place is where the real horror lies.

This episode has almost no jokes, no quirky banter, no shenanigans.

Here it is serious. Here it's real and bleak and deadly.

Genuine tension. True fear.

Show must go oooooon 🎵

To be fair, the doomed ones always have the best parties

Divulging slightly, I need these clothes, like yesterday. Photos from every angle, the mock-ups, patterns, everything. I'll learn how to sew properly I swear!

I've been trying to find my style for a while and get something that I actually like wearing, but where I'm living the clothes are either very gendered, cost half an infant or the most boring unisex shit imaginable.

But here the clothes are flow-y, practical, visibly comfortable, not too flashy but also unique and look good. I couldn't find much info about it besides the names of the costume designers (maybe it's just too early?..), so if any of you find anything to share in this regard - please save me!!!

So, are you saying that even a complete memory wipe cannot fix your PTSD?

Damn.

No hope except for therapy I guess

The show doesn't excuse passive enablers of the system, and that's great. Yes, you are a cog in the machine, but you also have your own brain and your own heart and the ability to resist harming others. It's difficult and dangerous, but it's not impossible

Yeah, that tracks. Media has raised me too

The way Murderbot almost timidly tries to ping other SecUnits to understand what's going on

The way it does what it's told and looks completely lost and scared

Now if you excuse me for a sec, my eyes are leaking

two sentence autistic horror story

I think now Gurathin understands in full just how much similar he and Murderbot are.

And he extends the gentleness and care the same way he received it all those years ago

noticing only what's truly important

this one is setting its priorities straight

Identity crisis

who am I if not sword and shield?

HOW DARE YOU

THE PERIMETER THING WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY AND LIGHTHEARTED

If I observe hard enough, if I'm able to hide parts of myself well enough, maybe no one will notice that I'm not like them

maybe no one will notice that I'm not "normal"

Murderbot, end message

******************************************************************

Well,

This was a fantastic ending to a fantastic season.

Just, thank you everyone who helped to bring this show to life. The love and respect that they had to the books and to this world is visible and tangible

Honestly, when I heard that there would be a live-action adaptation to these books a couple of years ago, my first thought was that by the time of the release I would not be alive to see it and that would be such a pity. Happy to say right now that these posts were not typed by an apparition

So

See you in season 2?...

Ghost, end message

:)

[mal0nneiiii]

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

sans's ability to read faces means he can immediately tell if you're upset, even if you do your damndest to hold it together. he knows the difference between your genuine smile and the one you pull to keep yourself from bawling on the spot. after all, he's had years of experience with maintaining his jovial, carefree facade. the roundness of his eyelights hold nothing but sympathy and understanding as he inquires you in that mellow baritone drawl of his;

"everythin' okay?"

your lip trembles and he'll open his arms for you to fall into them without second thought. sans rubs slow and soothing circles on your back while you cling to him, shoulders trembling with hiccups and sobs. his SOUL aches at the little sounds that come out of you. he won't say much except an occasional murmur of reassurance against your neck. "i've gotcha."

"let it out."

"i'm here."

he'll be there to coast you through the onslaught of tears. he'll press his teeth between your brows to get rid of that little worrying crease and again on your sniffling nose. he'll guide the both of you to the sofa for some much needed cuddle time, throwing a blanket over your shoulders as he gets comfortable in your arms. he'll never pressure you into saying what's on your mind, but he'll always listen when you do. he'll offer advice should you ask for it. he'll always give you words of comfort. when you're done, he'll stroke his thumbs over your watery cheeks and give you a soft little smile.

"you're gonna be okay, sweetheart."

everybody has their bad days. and sans has had his fair share of them. but he hopes that being there for you can make them that much more bearable.

[myloveonherknees]

What are your thoughts on the old posts coming out? Not asking in a malicious way I just want an outside perspective

oh god. i've been sitting on this for a while (& this blog runs off a queue, so i'm not On Here as frequently as my posts suggest), and what i think is worth saying has shifted over time. overall, my take is that it's very disappointing on several levels, especially the fan response.

before i get into it, please know that i think racism is bad. that's a statement few people will consciously disagree with, but it warrants saying nonetheless. i'm not interested in minimizing or excusing what was said (and if you feel compelled to do so in the notes of this post, it'll be removed). i'm not interested in making a case for why it's wrong, either – i don't think it's my place as an ethel cain fan blog to do anti-racism 101. because i think identity matters in discussions of racism, i'll share that i'm a mixed Indigenous person that looks white. centring those most impacted is appropriate in situations like these, and because the screenshots contained anti-Black slurs and anti-migrant rhetoric, that is not me. that's not meant to encourage people to be weird to fans who are directly impacted, it's more to encourage self-reflexivity in how people engage with this.

onto actually saying stuff – i'm sad the screenshots had to come from that weird transmisogynist ethel cain hate posse. i think the fact that it was them who leaked it ended up pulling focus in a way that feels slimy. i'm not sure how that could've been avoided, and i suppose it was only a matter of time before they did something that would warrant a public response. still, i think their other attempts at bad-jacketing hayden are/were less compelling than the curiouscat screenshots. the majority of those other criticisms (fetishization, paraphilias) exist at the intersection of transmisogynist rhetoric and bad-faith interpretations of the ethel cain project. i'm sad those criticisms get to be lumped together with condemning the racism displayed in those screenshots. i feel like some people really want hayden to be a victim in this scenario – and she is in some ways! – but that exclusive focus on how she's been victimized implicitly glosses over an objectively harmful thing (i.e. using slurs, being flippant about racism) she fully admitted to doing. i can understand the desire to "protect" an artist you like from what you feel is unfair criticism, but i think it's really vital to separate out the racism thing. you do not need to defend that, and it actively makes fan spaces hostile to BIPOC when you do so (and that is bad!)

semi-related to the above, i'm sad this situation has some ethel cain fans talking like fox news commentators. i promise that no one needs to do the work of defending or minimizing racism. no one needs to be using "woke" as a pejorative (it can also be appropriative when used positively, but that's a whole other conversation) nor does anyone need to wax poetic about how much they hate cancel culture. those are all socially conservative right-wing talking points, and i frankly resent them being entertained in a fan community i consider myself part of. morality aside (though i do think the morality of this situation matters), it is very embarrassing. i'm also noticing some cruelty directed at those who do find the racism included in those screenshots inexcusable, and i hate that. you do not need to call them/us oversensitive, nor do you need to lump them/us together with the transmisogynist hate campaign that originally dug up those screenshots. two things can be true at once: the people who brought those photos to the public are nasty little freaks, and people are valid in having negative thoughts/opinions on their content. again, i think separating out the racism here is important.

at the end of the day, i don't think there's one entirely correct "answer" to this – it's up to each person how they want to think about it and how they want to shape their engagement with the ethel cain project going forward. i will say that if you believe racism is bad (and i hope you do!) think long and hard about if your commentary on this situation tacitly minimizes what has occurred. in all honesty, i don't think there's a way to publicly discuss how "you'll never hate hayden" or whatever that doesn't read as racism apologia at some level. i don't think that's the intention people have in mind in making those statements, but it's the effect nonetheless. i'm unsure what to do with that, but there it is.

personally i don't have a strong sense of where i've landed with all this. i'm a person with fairly niche politics, so i don't feel the need to be morally or politically aligned with artists whose work i enjoy the way others might. no public figure is going to meet that standard for me. still, using slurs is a standard of politics/morality i think it is very easy for anyone to clear, so i'm disappointed in that respect. i'm unsure on how i feel about the statement. i'm also disappointed in the fan response it's generated. saying that, i don't have immediate plans to abandon what i'm doing here, but it's been less like... exciting or joyful, maybe? i will keep you posted on if that changes for me.

i think that's a good place to end this off. all my love to BIPOC ethel cain fans that have been hurt by this scenario, both the screenshots and the fan response ♡

[which-star]

I think Rumi would be a business major 😔😔😔 Like, definitely with a musical minor so it could be music industry-related, plus aNOTHER minor in international relations because she’s an overachieving disaster, but yeah her major is business

Look firstly, it is Practical™️ which she would like, and secondly it would be funny because someone makes one of those “business majors joined the dark side they have no souls” jokes and Rumi has a mcfucking heart attack

I think Mira’s a psychology major (she wants to listen to people and figure out why they’re Like That, plus it vibes with her own issues growing up she wants to try and learn more about dysfunctional households and stuff) with a minor in dance

I looooove marine bio!Zoey so much omg that’s such a good idea!!!! Also this would round out our trip with one STEM major, one libarts major, and one business major lol

(Also idk if you have a college in mind for them but I’m personally 1000% thinking UCLA, it has a bunch of good programs that would draw international students plus its close enough for Zoey to commute)

I was also thinking UCLA! It has the name reputation and probably is generic enough to fit any good college au. In my head I've been calling it the kpdh ucla au so I'll go back and tag everything accordingly.

Rumi would with the soulless business major jokes 😭😭😭 I don't think Mira would be minoring in anything with their main focus being on recruiting Zoey, but Rumi would definitely be stacking like you said!!! They probably already have singing and dancing as a hobby Celine Song encourages, so they wouldn't necessarily need to take classes in music when they've been training with Celine. I totally agree with their majors too, Mira would make a killer psych major and Rumi definitely is like in accounting or finance boohoo

Zoey, on the other hand, is still living with her parent(s) in this au. With her people-pleasing tendencies and probably the financial backing her parents provide (she's not a selling out stadiums as she should😔), she likely chose a field that had some parental approval. Marine biology promises some of that STEM handle despite not being pre-med or math. Because of that, she's definitely minoring in music! I can even see her attempting to make it a double-major despite there being 0 credit overlap. Even if she wanted to be pursuing music, I feel like she's boxed herself in with her parent's expectations.

Since their canon ages are 1-2 years apart I was going to make rumira like juniors and Zoey a sophomore (or sophmore-freshmen depending on the plot!) Korea's school system usually sorts by birth year rather than the American august-cutoff so if Zoey has a late birthday that can make her still 2 years younger while being only a grade below. This is relatively irrelevant but I just thought I'd share!

[wistfulnightingale]

Resident Privileges (or "Don't open the door to anyone!")

A corollary theory to the Chess Moves Theory Set, and Nothing Lasts Forever -- Reexamining the Final 15

-- And also answers some questions about Crowley's resident status at A.Z. Fell & Co.!

When Aziraphale built and opened his bookshop in 1800, it was designated an Embassy of Heaven. We see in the opening episode of Good Omens that it's also a haven for Crowley. Somehow, Aziraphale manipulated heaven's rules and regulations to extend the shop's protections to Crowley too. They talk together there, they get drunk together there. We see them safe and comfortable in the bookshop in 1941, relaxed and enjoying themselves as Aziraphale eagerly plans his magic show.

We also learn a lot in S2 about the rules that ensured the safety of the bookshop. While it was a Heavenly Embassy in S1, Gabriel could enter (with Sandalphon) without a direct invitation. Now, in S2, Aziraphale is no longer in heaven's employ. The bookshop is still technically an embassy, but it's his now, no longer heaven's outpost. It's an Independent Embassy, Aziraphale states in E5. We're shown that only he and Crowley can come and go freely. All other ethereal and occult beings only enter when they have already been specifically invited in the first time.

All beings, that is, except the Metatron.

Why? How did he walk right in, unnoticed and uninvited, carrying his threat-of-Crowley's-death-in-a-coffee cup? (For more on that unholy coffee, see A Hefty Jigger of Death.). How was he the only non-human in S2 to just stroll through the door on his first visit?

Because it wasn't actually his first corporeal visit to the bookshop. It wasn't the first time he walked through those bookshop doors.

He'd already gained access. Someone had already granted him permission to enter. I talk about this a bit in Nothing Lasts Forever, but I want to share more detail on the why's and wherefore's -- and a new thought I've had about who the "someone" was!

Shax's appearance in S2 Episode 3 (and her return with a demon hoarde in E5) gives us the Clues to explain how the two main Entry Rules work, where Crowley often resides (besides the Bentley!), and how the Metatron got his invitation.

(That's "Clues with-a-capital-C!")

Bookshop Entry Rule #1 - Resident Status

When Shax shows up with her tricks and taunts in E3, trying to get into the bookshop to find Gabriel, Crowley has a few taunts of his own to keep the upper hand. But was it a lie, that he can't actually invite her in? It's interesting that his first response, out on the street after her game of trickery, is "Not gonna happen." He doesn't say "You know that can't happen" or "Not possible."

Shax: I'm not stupid, Crowley. Come on, let me in.

Crowley: Yeah. Not gonna happen, so just... excuse me.

Moments later,

Crowley: Oh. Shame I can't invite you in.

"Not gonna happen" suggests that he has a choice, and he's not gonna choose it.

Meanwhile, when Shax first appears, Crowley firmly warns Jimbriel, "Don't open the door to anyone!" Why? They've already confirmed that the miracle that hides Jim is airtight. If the archangels couldn't recognize Gabriel, there's no reason to assume Shax would. And she doesn't.

Later, in E5, Maggie was able to accidentally invite the demons in. Aziraphale owns her record shop, which makes her a "resident" of the property. So we learn that it's not only Azi who can allow angels and demons to enter -- apparently, you simply need to be a resident to do so.

Jim is currently a resident too. When he first arrived, he wasn't, and did not have free entry. Aziraphale specifically invited him in. Now, Jimbriel has a room that's his, as well as his own hot chocolate mug and tin! Crowley warned Jimbriel because Jim could let her in.

Crowley has been protected and safe in the bookshop since its founding. Now that the shop only belongs to Aziraphale, and is an Independent Embassy, Crowley is counted as a resident too. "That bookshop is technically my shop, but we both get plenty of use out of it, don't we?" I suspect Crowley might be staying there sometimes, when he's not sleeping in his car to distract heaven and hell from noticing. Our Old Married Couple both have resident status. Crowley can grant entry. He could have let Shax in.

*****

Bookshop Entry Rule #2 - Permanent Access

We also learned that, once invited in, Beings can enter again without an invitation. Maggie's accidental invitation to the hoarde of menacing demons had been too general. In her anger, she'd said "you lot," which apparently opened it up to the entire "lot" of demons. Beelzebub, FurFur, and Dagon weren't part of that nighttime assault -- they popped in later. Any and all demons could now freely enter, at ANY time.

The bookshop's safety would have been breached even sooner if Jimbriel had unknowingly invited Shax in (E3). Her access would be permanent. Crowley was warning Jim because, as a resident of the bookshop, Jim could do so whether he understood or not.

We see that both the archangels and the demons had open access once permission was given. Michael, Uriel, and Sarqael were invited in by Aziraphale (under duress, with no other believable options) when they came looking for Gabriel. They all re-entered the bookshop in the final episode without the formal welcome being spoken again. (See my Chess Moves meta-theory Part 5, Nothing Lasts Forever)

The safety of the bookshop has been permanently compromised. Our Ineffables are no longer safe. Powerful beings from both heaven and hell can now come and go as they please.

C: You can't leave this bookshop.

A: Oh, Crowley... Nothing Lasts Forever...

Aziraphale understands how dire this situation is, now that their safety has been breached. The bookshop is no longer their haven. Their hopeful Forever there has ended, and a new plan is desperately needed...

*****

But Why Couldn't the Rules Be Changed?

Unfortunately, it appears that once entry is granted, it cannot be revoked. Why couldn't Aziraphale change this problematic loophole? I have a theory...

Heaven really likes rules and structure and hierarchy. Crowley had access from the shop's beginnings, when it was Heaven's Embassy. Aziraphale would have needed to work within the confines of heaven's desire for rules. He was the sole resident, but would have wanted Crowley to have permanent access and safety. It appears that a fixed rule was established -- only the resident can grant access, but that access will be permanent.

It's likely that, at the time, this rule seemed safe and effective. Gabriel, as his supervisor, could freely enter in S1, but we know he came very infrequently, and not only to the bookshop.

It's also likely that, as a Heavenly Embassy, all angels would have free access -- but no one else cares about this odd little earthly outpost. Sandalphon only accompanied Gabriel once, in S1. Demons (other than Crowley) would never be invited in. Aziraphale can sense the arrival of angels, so Crowley can be kept safe even if Gabriel shows up unexpectedly. (They wouldn't be so relaxed there in S1 and in 1941 if there wasn't some secret backup plan to either hide or get Crowley out if danger showed up!)

When heaven "fired" Aziraphale, and the shop became an Independent Embassy, Gabriel and the angels no longer had free access either. The Resident Status and Permanent Access rules carried over. It's still an embassy, and embassies have access rules. They were fixed, unchangeable, even if Aziraphale did have any concerns. The rules didn't cause Our Ineffables any serious problems until Jimbriel showed up -- and everything started falling apart.

Aziraphale didn't anticipate the unlikely possibility that one of his extra "residents" would invite an unwelcome threat into the bookshop.

*****

So, What About the Metatron?

Even with the appearance of his "big giant floating head" last season, the Metatron hadn't actually been physically present in the bookshop until S2. I suspect that, until the situation demanded it, the Metatron wouldn't sully himself with an actual visit to Earth. After all, Aziraphale owns a library filled with books, yet the Metatron didn't seem to know what a "book" was! That floating head in the portal was a projection -- it "looked at" our angel, but didn't make genuine eye contact with him. The effect was similar to when disembodied Aziraphale appeared to Crowley in the pub but didn't seem to actually see him. "I'm not anywhere, really," he said. Our angel wasn't really present there, nor was the Metatron actually physically present there in the portal.

Here comes the really wild speculation -- about Jim. And the Metatron. The Metatron is the only Being in the final episode who walks right in without having been invited before. I pondered that at lot in my Chess Moves Theory, especially in Nothing Lasts Forever. Did the Metatron enter previously, and if so, who invited him in? Would Aziraphale make a foolish fatal mistake like that? Maybe. At the time, I thought it was possible. I imagined a situation where the Metatron is practically inviting himself in, and Aziraphale has no choice but to say the words -- similar to when the Archangels showed up looking for Gabriel.

[Parts 1 & 2 of my Chess Moves Theory establish why I feel certain that the Metatron had visited before (The Metatron Misdirection and The Metatron's Second Coming)..... Part 5 (Nothing Lasts Forever), gives my additional evidence by analyzing how Aziraphale responds when the Metatron walks in. I recommend you check these out, if you're interested. Otherwise, the idea of a prior Metatron visit may sound pretty weird! ...Links provided at the end!]

However, if Aziraphale had been forced to actually invite the Metatron into the bookshop, Our Ineffables would have started their last-ditch crisis planning much sooner than the Final Fifteen. Crowley would NOT have left Aziraphale alone the night of the demon invasion, even for the most important of reasons -- not with a chance of the Metatron strolling in too! And an exhausted looking (but still sweetly flirtatious) Aziraphale would never have felt safe suggesting to Crowley at the cafe that he return alone to the safety of the bookship rather than brooding in an exposed location.

I think it's much more likely that it was sweet, innocent, totally clueless Jim that was there alone when the Metatron first showed up. His memories were gone -- he'd have no idea who that was.

"Ah! A customer! Come on in! Welcome! I'm Jim, short for James, but some people call me Gabriel."

Once the Metatron gained access, that's all he needed. If Crowley or Aziraphale spotted him elsewhere, he could provide a ruse about what business brought him there to see the former angel.

And our Beloved Ineffables, even if they knew the Metatron had popped in on Whickber Street, never realized that Jimbriel had already given him access.

Checkmate.

Meanwhile, when the Metatron walked into the bookshop with the Archangels there, Gabriel wasn't there to say if he had or not. He and Beelzebub had already left. It could be an unrelated story point that played out for other reasons. Or it might have also been a way to conceal that a horrible event had already shattered any and all plans Our Ineffables had made together to try to deal with the chaotic events rapidly playing out.

*****

I'll be pondering this a lot more, and working out if it changes anything else in my Chess Moves Theory Set. Stay posted!

If you've seen any of my other writings, you know that I totally believe in Our Ineffables. I believe that the Final Fifteen was indeed painful and chaotic and full of misunderstandings and fear. But I also believe that they remained on each other's side -- they just weren't prepared for the devastating events that had actually occurred. The bookshop was no longer safe. The Metatron was onto them, and had threatened Crowley's very existence (A Hefty Jigger of Death). That Final 15 was a desperate exchange of coded language and confusion as they each had different ideas about what, if anything, could possibly fix this...

*****

It's a bit confusing to insert a link for each time I reference one of my other interconnected theories, so here are the links to the ones I mentioned here:

1 - The Metatron Misdirection

2 - The Metatron's Second Coming

4 - A Hefty Jigger of Death (It was a threat to Crowley, and Aziraphale had an impossible choice. NOT the same as "the Coffee Theory".)

5 - Nothing Lasts Forever (Nowhere is safe for them now)

*****

The Chess Moves Theory Set, Why Chess & Magic? will take you to the master list of all the connected theories, and also explains my foundations for these ideas.

Thanks so much for being here and exploring with me the complicated mysteries that remain unanswered in S2!

[sallyfisher1312]

Sleeping Headcanons

Bad Batch x reader

Masterlist

A/n: It's been some time since I've done headcanons for the Batch, thought I'd fix that.

Warnings: Not proof read, mentions being stressed and overwhelmed Hunter's part, having nightmares in Echo's and Crosshair's, one suggestive thing in Tech's part, let me know if I missed anything.

Characters: Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, Crosshair and Tech x reader.

Word Count: ~850.

Hunter

Depends on how he’s feeling that day. If he’s had a rough mission or just stressful day in general, he’ll prefer to be close to you, but not too much. Going to sleep facing each other would be ideal, he can still feel you close to him, feel your warmth and your scent, and he won’t be overwhelmed.

If he wasn’t stressed or overwhelmed, he’d prefer to spoon you, more specifically being the big spoon while you’re the little one. He wished his senses weren’t so inconsistent, that way he could fall asleep surrounded by your warmth every night.

Because of his heightened senses it can be hard to fall asleep, so he usually tries to sleep during hyperspace travels in the Marauder or when he’s in the Batch’s barracks. But even in those moments where he knows everyone’s safe, the smallest of sounds can still wake him up.

Echo

Echo has a hard time falling asleep, the nightmares from his time in Skako Minor are relentless almost every night, so much that he often offers to take the night turn instead of sleeping.

Despite craving it, he won’t ever ask you to sleep with him, he fears his thrashing around and screaming might scare you or, even worse, hurt you, also, he can only imagine how uncomfortable his metal body parts would feel on yours. If you insist and reassure him enough, he’ll accept it as long as agree to leave the bed if he starts having a nightmare or if he’s making you uncomfortable.

So, from that day on, you two would sleep face to face a few centimeters apart, and what he didn’t expect was to sleep so much better with you, just your presence there was enough to comfort him, to the point even his nightmares became more frequent.

When he did have a bad one, instead of keeping your promise, you calmed him down and, once he was better, held him close to your chest.

He was angry for the first few minutes, but the way your soft chest rose and fell and how your calm heartbeat soothed his accelerated one, he quickly forgave you. From then on, he could say with certainty that his favorite sleeping position was on your chest, hugging you close to him.

Wrecker

Wrecker can sleep anywhere at any time. It’s shocking how fast he falls asleep regardless of place or noise. Speaking of which, he often snores. Very loud.

Obviously, he likes to sleep cuddling Lula, or at least have her near him, but his favorite way to go to sleep is cuddling with you rather than the plushie, so no need to worry about being replaced.

He loves when you sleep on top of him, him on his back and you sprawled on his chest, and you can put your whole weight on him, he says he likes it that way. Also, he’s usually the big spoon, but doesn’t mind being the little one too.

Wrecker sleeps like a rock, it’s hard to wake him up unless he wants to. So be sure to use the bathroom before you go to bed with him, otherwise you might be stuck with him caging you in his arms.

Crosshair

Crosshair has no trouble sleeping, often times he just chooses not to. He can sleep in noisy environments just fine, and the place doesn’t matter. In fact, he can sleep while standing, so it’s not uncommon to find him napping standing in a corner.

Initially, he won’t be thrilled to share a bed with you, he just values his space, nothing to do with you. Eventually he’ll give in, and despite his grumbling, he doesn’t find your presence too bad (he loves it).

Likes to have your head on his chest or to spoon you, being the big spoon, of course. Well, when it’s just the two of you, which is rare, he’ll let you spoon him, but don’t dare tell anyone this, if you do, he won’t ever let you spoon him again.

Sometimes he has nightmares, specially after Tantiss, in these cases, he won’t object too much if you try to help him. He’d be eternally grateful if you stayed and held him through it instead of leaving, but he won’t make it too obvious.

Tech

Tech? Sleeping?

Tech’s mind is always hyperactive; there’s rarely a time when he’s not thinking about something, he’s often awake doing some kind of research of tinkering with his creations.

Which means it’d be rare for him to go to bed with you, if he did, he’d probably feel like he’d explode from the idleness.

He’ll neglect his sleep schedule until he absolutely can’t anymore, then he’ll lean anywhere relatively comfortable and black out.

If his absence bothers you, he’ll offer sit by your bunk while he’s working. He didn’t think it’d make any difference to sit on a desk or besides your sleeping form, but he often finds himself tearing his attention away from his creations to your relaxed face. He can’t help but admire you, making a mental note to do this more often.

If you somehow get him to lay down with you, he’d prefer sleep side to side or facing you, unless it’s a special occasion or you two had just finished doing the deed, then he’ll make an effort to be close to you and let you choose how you want to sleep that night.

Reblogs, comments and feedback are appreciated. Let me know if there are any mistakes, English is not my first language. Thank you for reading! <3

Do not copy or translate!

Dividers by @/enchanthings

[trivialbob]

This weekend I rode my motorcycle to the campground. Sheila had to work, and my truck was in the shop for a costly engine repair.

The ride to Wisconsin (the "Northwoods," as it appears on that map some of you Tumblrs have shared) was nice once I got out of the cities. Leaving town on Friday, traffic near home was stop-and-go. Minnesota just legalized lane splitting, so I tried it out when vehicles were stopped or barely moving. Eh, it was fun passing everyone, but it made me a little nervous.

I've driven our Polaris side-by-side in few places. There is a Polaris app to help navigate the trails, but I find it difficult to use, at least until i get to know it better.

Sheila and I joined a local ATV/snowmobile riders club. Last night, they hosted a group ride. There were about 25 side-by-sides and ATVs, at least at the beginning. When I explained to a few people that I was new at this, they welcomed me with open arms and assured me they'd take good care of me.

We started in the evening, while it was still light out. The first leg was about 30 miles, some on roads but mostly on rocky trails. Whew, we got dirty.

This young woman (below) was a bit more aggressive in her trail choice than the rest of us who drove on the dry side of this obstacle. I thought she was going to need a pull out of that mud pit, but with some careful maneuvering, she extricated herself single-handedly.

We stopped at the Chit Chat, a bar I'd been wanting to try. Sheila had eaten there the last time she was up without me. I was starving by this point. My $10 mushroom and Swiss burger, and the $3 side of fries, left me (and my wallet) highly satisfied. I had a great time talking with longtime riders and local residents, most of whom were couples around my age. We all agreed that bar and grill prices in the area make it a wonderful place to live or retreat to.

Note to bars and restaurants everywhere: if you really want people to purchase your t-shirts, pricing them at $10 a shirt, like the Chit Chat does, will sell more than pricing them $30. Next time I'm at this place in a car, I'm getting one.

After dinner we hit the trail again. Now it was getting dark. Riding with lights was fun. Some of the machines had super bright LED lightbars on the grills or roofs. Sheila told me she wants those lights too. (She's going on an all-women ride in August that I heard has nearly a hundred riders signed up.) The second leg of our ride last night was about 25 miles. We stopped at one more bar for a break.

Some signs adorning the walls were a little kitschy, but I didn't mind.

The rest of the weekend was mostly relaxing, except for when I stupidly bent one of the arms on the trailer awning. I fixed it enough that it will extend and retract, but it looks terrible. The screwdriver seen below was only a temporary fix. A trip to a nearby hardware store got some stainless steel bolts to use instead.

This afternoon's motorcycle ride home was uneventful, though a bit warm. I wore my wonderful Aerostich rider's suit with all the vents opened.