#but I haven’t really come to terms with it so I don’t wanna talk about it

[b1airwitch]

Since November I have been broken up with, been to the psychward twice, dyed my hair four times, spiraled into alcoholism, been diagnosed with bpd, had the worst threesome known to man, been physically assaulted by a drunk dude, quadrupled my body count, moved out of where I was living and gone no contact with my entire irl friend group, fallen in love twice, and shaved my eyebrows….it’s been eventful

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

[novy2sirius]

astro notes volume nine

༊࿐ gemini’s often get hated on because a lot of people hate themselves but don’t realize it. gemini’s are mirrors. they try to relate to you as much as possible. this is also why they’re so charming. they match people’s vibes. long term though people tend to dislike them since they don’t wanna meet themselves/be around people like them. this isn’t always the case of course. when low vibrational there is definitely gemini’s that are fake since the sign is associated with gossip. there is times when they will be nice to your face and then talk bad about you behind your back. however, high vibrational ones put their energy toward their interests and don’t gossip, but instead have better communication skills and are direct with people

༊࿐ aquarius’ are probably the most misunderstood sign. every one i’ve met has just had a chaotic upbringing and because of this they have lots of chaos going on their mind sometimes. they don’t always know how to express themselves perfectly as they’re the opposite sign of leo, so they can come off as cold and insensitive. i’ve actually found often times they don’t even truly know when they’re being insensitive though until they’ve been called out by someone and then (if they’re evolved) they do try and correct this if they know they’ve hurt someone, so in other words it’s not that they don’t care about you, it’s that they can be quite literally unaware due to their upbringing and them being raised in a “cold” household. i would say especially aquarius moons though

༊࿐ moon square mars can indicate what your soul truly wants to do in life doesn’t always align with your actions and it may take some time for you to make changes in your life or change who you are as a person. for these people change is harder than it is for others since the moon is associated with comfortability, squares create obstacles, and mars is where we take action they want to stay in their comfort zone and can lack motivation at times depending on where they happen to be at in life. people with this aspect should force themselves to do things they don’t want to in order to try and work through this square

༊࿐ venus and the ascendant are great placements to check for fashion, but if you want more info about fashion you can also check the house of your neptune as it is the higher octave of venus. the sign in neptune doesn’t change often, so it won’t be telling, but the house can be helpful! for example, neptune in the 10h could indicate looking better in classy clothes, professional clothes, brown clothes, or darker colored clothing

༊࿐ jupiter is the planet of ease, so yes it can show things that come to us with ease, but it can also show areas where we’re lazy because jupiter discusses the areas we haven’t had to ever work for. for example, jupiter in the 5h could indicate being too lazy to have any hobbies that are productive and just enjoying watching netflix, jupiter in the 4h could indicate being too lazy to leave the house and just being a huge homebody, etc

༊࿐ your 4th house ruler can tell the type of things that you inherit from your family members. this doesn’t just include hereditary things, but also things we have in common with our family that we’ve learnt as children and taken into adulthood. for example, often those with their 4th house ruler in the 7th house act a lot like their parents do in their own relationships once they start dating or genetically it could mean having similar beauty to one of your parents (usually the mother)

༊࿐ your 8th house profection year is at 19 years old which is why we hear most people say that 19 is a really hard age. it’s a very transformational time in your life for multiple reasons. 19 is also the number of negative karma in numerology, so it will especially be a struggle if you’ve got a lot of unresolved karma that you’re carrying with you. it can be even worse if you’re a gemini or cancer ascendant because it will also be a saturn year for you on top of it being an 8h year. for profection charts everyone will have the same house years, but not planets in each year

༊࿐ the part of fortune can show what type of luck we attract at our worst moments (when we need it most). this is different than jupiter representing ways in our life we get lucky in general. for example, an aries part of fortune can indicate getting what you want by being direct/assertive with people or getting really lucky during super dangerous moments when you’ve could’ve literally died. i know someone with their part of fortune in the 10th house who didn’t go to college and basically lounged around at 18-19 doing nothing with their life, but then at 20 created an online business and got really lucky because it happened to blow up on tiktok. they were at the worst point in their life before their company blew up though, so as you can see part of fortune is more about major lucky events that happen right after you’re at a low point in life

— © novy2sirius don’t copy my work !

[st4rd0lly]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐍’ ?

cw: first time sex , gentle dom chuuya , AFAB reader (no gendered terms) , fingering , praise , MDNI 

“How are you feelin sweetheart? Talk to me, come on..” Chuuya presses a kiss into the crook of your neck, having your legs spread wide open as his boner presses against your ass. Your jaw is slacked open, nothing but gasps and choked moans leaving your mouth desperately. “Let me hear your pretty voice.”

“O-Oh fuck Chuuya!” You whine loudly, squirming around in his hold. Maybe it wasn’t as bad of an idea as you thought to ask Chuuya to help you orgasm for the first time. “It f-feels so good, so so good..” You babble out, tears brimming your eyes with each rub of your clit against his palm, his fingers curling inside of you.

“You really haven’t played with yourself that much huh? You’re still so fucking tight, relax baby I’ve got you.” He whispers reassuringly into your ear, your hole was sucking him in so tightly but you were still so wet. A squelching sound came from every time he thrusted his fingers into you at a steady pace. “Sound so pretty f’me, think I might cum just from hearing you..”

At 15, you were well acquainted with the storm that was Chuuya Nakahara. Chuuya was your close friend, a fellow executive, a work partner. You grew up together from your teen years well into your early 20s. And despite your few years as an executive…

“I haven’t slept with anyone.” You admitted to Chuuya, resting your head on your hand, pouring yourself another glass of wine with the other. The topic of intimacy got brought up when Chuuya had an awkward run in with one of his one night stands at the bar you two were at. But now you were in the comfort of his home, still drinking but in a more relaxed setting.

“Really? I mean there’s nothin wrong with that, not like you need to sleep with someone. Do whatever you want.” Chuuya told you, looking at you with some curiosity as to why you seemed defeated. But he couldn’t deny that he found the cute pout on your lips to be adorable. You were clueless about how attracted he was to you. In the same way, he was clueless about how you were attracted to him too.

“This might be TMI but-“

“Nothin’s too much information, don’t worry.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with someone, I mean I do. I wanna… explore more sex stuff-“ God this was embarrassing. Maybe it was just the wine talking. “I want it to be with someone I trust which is pretty reasonable right? And I’ve tried- no this is embarrassing.”

“I won’t judge, I promise. But I also won’t force you to tell if you don’t want to.” Chuuya says with a voice so soft, your breath feels as if it got taken away. 

“Are you sure? Really sure?”

“I’m all ears doll.”

“I’ve never even had an orgasm which sounds silly but I’ve never had one. Every time I come close to having one when I play with myself, it’s like it’s too much.” You groaned out, burying your face into your arms that were resting on the table.

Chuuya was silent for a couple of seconds but those seconds felt like hours, and hours of just sheer embarrassment. That’s enough wine for tonight, you think to yourself. As you lift your head up to quickly say an apology, he says something that makes your heart beat even faster.

“Y’know, if you want help, I can- I wouldn’t mind at all.” Chuuya tells you, looking at you dead in the eyes with a flushed face. 

“‘M trying to relax Chuu, it just feels—” You cut yourself off with another high pitched moan, biting your lip. Your eyes dart down to where his hand was, the sight only turned you on more. Slick was practically drooling all over his hand, his pretty fucking hand. Two of his digits rubbed against your G-spot, causing you to yelp. “Faster please, please I need it!” You squealed, feeling your orgasm buildup.

“Shit I actually might cum too..” Chuuya groans lowly, his hand picking up the pace. He rubbed his palm against your clit harshly, fingers thrusting in and out of you. His cock rubbed against your ass, even the slight friction was enough to drive him insane. 

“H-Holy fucking shit! Chuuya! ‘S too much! ‘M gonna cum!” You cried out, back arching and hips bucking into his hand. 

“You can take it pretty, fucking cum all over my hand.” He growls into your ear, each plunge was relentless. Your walls spasmed around his fingers, voice going hoarse while you screamed his name, cum gushing all over his hand. Your eyes rolled back with your body shaking, going limp in his hold. Pants left your parted lips, chest heaving with every breath you take. His fingers slowed down, you could feel the string of cum connecting from his fingers to your pussy. 

Your vision cleared up more and you were able to see how he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean of your essence. He moaned at the taste, panting a little as well when he took them out of his mouth. “So fucking sweet…” He whispers, his fingers dipping back down to stroke your pussy again, you let out a small whimper. You could feel the wet fabric against your ass, you shift your head at Chuuya. 

“You came from that?” You asked with an amused tone, smiling a bit. He grins back down at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Don’t get so cheeky with me dolly. How could I not? With such a pretty person falling so nicely underneath me… can’t really blame me can you? Did so good for me.” He praises you, and your chest feels warm. “You think you can handle a couple more rounds? Or do you want a break first?” He asks with his voice low. 

“A couple of rounds won’t hurt right?” You say, shifting your body to face him, a sweet but seductive smile growing on your face to lean closer to his lips.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 6: To Trying Again

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

I don't wanna mess this thing up (I don't wanna push too far)

(In which an "evil" writer might surprise you guys just a little bit with this part)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.6K

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Happy Monday lovelies! This is sort of a filler-ish short chapter though I do think it's important to both plot and character development. I'd like to preface this by saying I've never been to Minsk or Park Pieramohi so I'm very much going off of pictures. Editing and I remain on very, very bad terms so pretty please let me know of typos so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

July 2018 

“You’re being too loud,” Azzi whisper-screams at the blonde girl in front of her as she closes the door to her room behind her with a little too much force. 

Paige turns her head back every-so-slightly with a pronounced eye roll, “will you please relax.”

“I would if you’d just be a little more careful,” Azzi glares, taking cautious steps as if the sound of her sneakers across the carpeted floor could potentially wake up any of the coaches. 

“Azzi,” Paige says exasperatedly, “the coaches are all the way on the other end of the hallway. Besides, they're probably all sleeping.”

And despite her stubbornness, Azzi can concede that Paige has a point there. It’s nearly midnight and the game against Spain earlier in the day might have had a final score that made it seem like the USA U17 women's basketball team had won handily, but the game itself had been draining to say the least. The post-victory dinner had featured a bunch of worn out teenagers gobbling their food without much conversation and a cohort of coaches who seemed like they needed an hour of drinking followed by good night’s sleep. But even the exhaustion of the day hadn’t been enough to prevent Paige Bueckers and her diabolical mind from coming up with the idea to sneak out into the city of Minsk. 

“No,” Azzi had said immediately even before the words had been spoken, that shimmering glint in Paige’s eyes a dead giveaway as she sidled up to Azzi at the salad bar. 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Paige had pouted. 

“You never say anything good.”

“That’s crazy. You’re so mean to me.”

“So mean,” Azzi had nodded in agreement, “so how about you go and bother someone else.”

“Azzi please. We haven’t had just Paige and Azzi time in ages. Don’t want someone else. Just want you.”

And after that well, there wasn’t really any chance of saying no. Azzi’s only fifteen and she doesn’t know that much about love, but sometimes when Paige looks at her with those earnest blue eyes and a smile that promises i’ll always be here, she thinks the way her heart starts to flutter erratically to a beat of and i wouldn’t want anyone else to stay, might just be the start of her finding out. 

“See,” Paige grins triumphantly as the two girls find their way out of their hotel and onto the street, “told you we wouldn’t get caught. Shit’s just too damn easy.”

Azzi rolls her eyes at the attitude, “don’t tempt fate.”

“Fate’s got nothing in front of Paige Bueckers. I make my own fate,” Paige winks as she links her arms through Azzi. 

It’s a mundane amount of contact, absolutely nothing special to it, but Azzi feels herself shiver in spite of the humidity that’s circling around them. She doesn’t quite know how it happened. One moment she was staring across the court, judging the skinny blonde practicing free throws and coming to the conclusion that she’d be no threat; the next moment said girl was next to her on the plane back from Argentina and Azzi, a self-admitted introvert, found herself rattling off about everything and nothing with this girl who seemed to have discovered the keys to all of Azzi’s locks. Hours of talking had bled into days and days had bled into months and despite the fact that facetime had taken the place of in-person conversations, the word friendship had seemed too cavalier a word to describe the relationship Paige and Azzi were building. 

Paige had whittled away all of Azzi’s carefully constructed armor until she was buried deep underneath her skin and Azzi’s sure there’s no knife in the world sharp enough to carve the blonde out from where she lives underneath Azzi’s ribcage. Azzi doesn’t want anyone to try and dig her out. She  thinks she might bleed out if they do. 

“Az,” Paige whines, waving her free hand in the younger girl’s face, “are you even paying attention to me?”

“That depends,” Azzi hums, “are you saying anything interesting?”

“I’m always saying something interesting.”

“You’re always saying something. The interesting is subjective,” Azzi teases, laughing when Paige pouts. 

“I sneak you out to give you an adventure and this is how you repay me? With insults?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her heart.

“Walking boring streets is not an adventure. Virginia has streets too.”

“It’s not about the streets, it’s about where the streets lead to,” Paige says with grave seriousness. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “are you entering your philosopher Paige era?”

“I’d make a good philosopher,” Paige waggles her own eyebrows as they two girls find themselves entering park Pieramohi. 

“Virginia has parks too, you know Paige?” Azzi says skeptically. 

Paige lets out a dramatic sigh, “will you just keep walking, woman. Sometimes I wonder if you even like me?”

It’s said like a joke but there’s a hint of insecurity beaded into it that buzzes in Azzi’s ears as she wraps a careful hand around Paige’s wrist, stopping the two of them where they are. 

“Hey,” she whispers softly, nudging the older girl, “you don’t ever have to wonder with me. I’m always gonna like you Paige. Even if you’re a pain in my ass half the time.”

“Had to ruin it with the last part, didn't you?” Paige complains but her eyes twinkle at the reassurance, “Just so you know I’m gonna be a pain in your ass forever.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Azzi promises as they continue strolling through the park. 

The silence is peaceful and the breeze that flows around them is like a comforting hug. And Azzi thinks that she’d be okay if there wasn’t a destination for them to get to, as long as the journey came with Paige by her side. 

“We’re almost there,” Paige says slowly, a slightly nervous edge to her voice. 

“You sure you’re not just getting us lost-” the teasing quip dies on Azzi’s tongue as she stares at the scenery in front of her. They’re standing on the edge of a bridge overlooking a lake and it looks like something out of a disney fairytale; the picturesque image of green trees silhouetted against a magically starry night is captured perfectly on the still surface of the water that’s flowing beneath. As Azzi peers across the railing, Paige right next to her, she feels her breath hitch at the reflection that peers up at her. Because the view in front of them is beautiful but Paige’s eyes are on Azzi and she’s staring at her as if the view is nothing in comparison. 

“C’mon,” the blonde says softly, lacing her fingers through Azzi’s as she tugs her along, “I have a plan.”

“There’s more?” Azzi asks in awe as Paige guides her to the gazebo in the middle of the bridge. 

“Just a little bit,” Paige says and oh- that shy smile is different. Azzi doesn’t think she’s seen that one yet and she makes a mental note to herself, to memorize it and store it along with all of Paige’s other smiles that make Azzi’s insides swoop like a rollercoaster. 

She watches intently as Paige begins to peruse through the purple rucksack she’d been carrying. The first thing out of it is a picnic blanket and then a horde of different snacks, all of Azzi’s favorites. Two plastic champagne glasses are next and then a sheepish grin as Paige pulls out a bottle of soda. 

“Couldn’t quite risk trying to get alcohol,” Paige scratches at her neck. 

“Next time maybe,” Azzi shrugs as she helps Paige set up the arrangement and she feels herself fluttering at the thought of doing this again and again and again. 

“How’d you even find this place?” she asks as Paige begins to pour out the soda. 

“You ever heard of googling?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at Paige’s teasing smirk, “how’d you even have time to do this?”

Paige is quiet for a second as she passes Azzi her glass, “wanted to do something special for us,” she says quietly, keeping her eyes intently on what she’s doing as she pours out a drink for herself, “wasn’t hard to find time for you.”

“You could be a poet, Paige Bueckers,” Azzi whispers and she knows it’s unfair of her but she thinks it anyway. As long as all your poems are about me. 

“The poets are lucky I chose a ball instead of a pen. They’d be out of a job otherwise,” Paige says, trying to ease back into the more familiar arrogance. 

“Always so humble,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes as she holds up her glass, “alright what are toasting to?”

“I came up with this whole thing. You can come up with a toast,” Paige scrunches her nose and Azzi shakes her head at it. 

She thinks for a second before smiling brightly at the girl in front of her, “let’s just keep it simple and toast to us.”

“How original,” Paige teases but she clinks her glass against Azzi’s anyways, “here’s to us.”

“Here’s to us,” Azzi repeats as they both take sips of soda. 

They melt into a comfortable silence, relishing in this rare moment where there isn’t a screen separating them from each other. Facetimes is a wonderful creation but a blurry screen, Azzi decides, doesn’t nearly do justice to just how damn pretty Paige is. Her hair is golden as it basks in the glow of the moon and Azzi wonders if the stars are jealous of how brilliantly the blonde’s blue eyes twinkle.

It’s Paige who speaks first, her voice hesitant, “you uh- you never asked me how my date went a couple of weeks ago.”

Azzi feels her whole body go rigid. She’d almost forgotten about Paige’s wretched date. The blonde had told her about it a couple of days before the actual event and Azzi had played the dutiful role of a best friend, teasing Paige with a light-heartedness she didn’t feel and congratulating her with an excitement that came from anywhere but from the heart. She’d purposely avoided Paige’s calls the day of the date and then two days after, coming up with some sorry excuse she no longer remembers. On the third day, when the hollow ache of i miss her voice in her chest had become too hard to ignore, Azzi had finally picked up the phone and diverted the conversation straight to a different topic. She hadn’t thought of the date since. 

“Guess it slipped my mind,” she says airily, fingers gripping the edge of the picnic blanket. 

“I could tell you about it now,” Paige says slowly. 

I’d rather you didn’t, Azzi thinks but that’s a thought that veers a little too out of the sphere of best-friend-isms and so she simply nods her head, “y-yeah tell me about it. How was it?”

“It was nice,” Paige begins and there’s something hidden in her tone that Azzi can't quite place but she’s a little too busy sulking at the idea of Paige with anybody else to try and decipher it, “dinner was good. Took her to a movie after. That was good too.”

“That’s cool P. I’m glad- I’m glad you had fun,” Azzi says nonchalantly, gripping the glass in her hands just a little too tight. 

“I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t really have that much fun,” Paige clarifies and Azzi gawks at her in confusion as the older girl fidgets with the frayed edges of the picnic blankets, “just didn’t- didn’t feel right. Don’t think she had much fun either. She never texted me after.”

“What a bitch,” Azzi bites out, suddenly irrationally angry at a girl she’d never met because how could anyone possibly not have fun with Paige, “I’m sorry P. You deserve-”

“I didn’t care that she didn’t text back-”

“Still. It’s just the decent thing to do,” Azzi rants. 

“Maybe,” Paige shrugs, “but I didn’t have time to care about that. I had other things on my mind. Like the fact that you weren’t talking to me.”

Azzi flinches at the accusation, rushing out her previous defense, “I was busy.”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers. 

“Paige-”

“But I get it,” the older girl says softly as she reaches for Azzi’s hand, tugging the brunette closer to her and Azzi feels something inside her erupt at how close their faces are, “I probably wouldn’t have talked to you for two days either if you went on a date with someone else.”

“Oh,” Azzi breathes out and there’s probably something more eloquent she should say but there’s this realization of maybe you feel it too that’s beginning to creep up her spine, rendering her speechless as Paige continues to stare at her like she’s mapping out all the tiniest details of Azzi’s face. 

“The whole date, I kept thinking how you wouldn’t order what she ordered off the menu or that you would probably hit my hand if I tried to steal something off your plate but then give it to me anyway. And that the movie would never have been so quiet with you and we’d probably get yelled at for giggling too much and I-” Paige pauses, dragging in a deep breath, “I definitely would’ve kissed you at the end.”

A sigh of relief escapes Azzi’s lips, “you didn’t kiss her.”

“No,” Paige confirms as she drops her forehead against Azzi’s, “but I-,” the blonde gulps nervously and Azzi can’t help the way her hand reaches up to caress the blush forming on Paige’s cheeks. 

“Ask me,” she whispers.

“I really want to kiss you,” Paige confesses, voice shaking slightly, “can I kiss you?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, choosing to reply instead by pressing her lips softly against Paige’s. They move slowly at first, testing each other’s boundaries and savoring their first taste of each other. Azzi pulls the older girl onto her lap, hands firmly on Paige’s hips as the other girl clasps her own hands around Azzi’s neck.  It’s a little messy and uncoordinated and Azzi thinks they might need to practice a little more to really get it right but still, it’s everything.

And Azzi just knows

She knows it then just the way she knew Tim was meant to be her dad. The way she knew Jon and José were meant to be her brothers. The way she knew she was meant to play basketball. Azzi knows that she’s meant to fall hopelessly in love with Paige Bueckers. 

March 2033

There are three things Azzi should do. 

Push Paige away 

Tell her this a bad idea 

Run the fuck away

She does none of the above.

Instead Azzi kisses Paige back. 

And it’s still everything. Like the sun and moon are colliding and creating something so insanely powerful; something that feels so eternal. 

There’s nothing soft or slow about it as Paige presses every inch of herself into Azzi until she can feel Paige’s heartbeat as strongly as she can feel her own. It might be impossible but she swears their hearts are talking to each other, tapping out rhythms against each other’s chests that confess all the things their owners are too scared to say. And Azzi wants nothing more than to lose herself completely in the moment because Paige’s lips feel like a drug and Azzi thinks she might just be an addict in relapse. 

Except to relapse, you need to have recovered. And Azzi doesn’t think she ever fully recovered from Paige. 

It isn’t until she feels her back hit the edge of a desk and the sound of something crashing onto the floor infiltrates her ears, that Azzi finally comes to her senses. She tears her lips away from Paige as the older woman groans in protest, arms tightening their hold on Azzi’s waist so she can still have some semblance of control over the situation. And really Azzi knows she’s strong enough to escape Paige’s grip, could easily fight it if she wanted to. But well, she doesn’t want to. And Azzi’s tired of doing things she doesn’t want to do. 

“Paige-”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘we can’t do this’, Azzi I swear to god I’m going to kill you,” Paige threatens, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s. 

Azzi laughs softly and she can feel Paige’s whole body relax at the sound of it and like clockwork, she feels the tension beginning to release from her own muscles, “if you kill me then we definitely can’t do this.”

“I’ll revive you after or something,” Paige says with a half-smirk. 

“Or something,” Azzi rolls her eyes, “but we can’t-”

“Azzi,” Paige groans. 

“We can’t do this right now and definitely not here,” Azzi amends, alluding to the fact that they’re still in Steph’s office. 

Paige raises an eyebrow, cocking her head slightly, “but we can do this later? Somewhere else?”

The question lingers between them as Azzi bites her lip. She knows what this is, knows that it’s Paige putting the ball in her court. A ‘no’ would likely be the end of things and that scares her more than she’s willing to admit but she’s not quite ready to commit to a ‘yes’ yet, even if that flame of desire inside of her, the one that can only be lit by Paige, is blazing hot through her veins. 

“I don’t know,” Azzi says carefully, shivering at the way Paige’s thumb is rubbing circles against her waist, the flimsy material of her shirt doing nothing to prevent the goosebumps forming on her skin, “TBD.”

“That’s not a no,” Paige says carefully, hope blossoming freely on her face. 

“That’s not a yes either,” Azzi warns half-heartedly. 

“But it’s not a no,” Paige presses. 

“No,” Azzi admits, playing with the neckline of Paige’s shirt, “it’s not a no.”

And Azzi’s so scared of the future, scared that if she lets herself burn, she’ll incinerate everyone around her but there’s something in the way Paige smiles at her words. Something that feels a lot like a promise of i’ll be the rain that washes out the fire before you can turn us to ashes. 

“I can work with that,” Paige says softly, tilting Azzi’s chin up. 

“So desperate to get back into my pants Bueckers,” Azzi teases and she expects a witty remark in return but instead she’s met with nothing but sincerity. 

“So desperate to get back into your life,” Paige whispers, voice cracking on the last two words. 

Tears prickle against Azzi’s waterline as she stares in awe at the girl in front of her. Sometimes she thinks Paige doesn’t even know that there’s a halo of goodness sitting above her head, doesn't even know just how beautiful her soul is. Paige is stunning on the outside; it’s something no one can deny. But it’s nothing compared to how gorgeous she is on the inside, nothing compared to how kind, how humble, how forgiving Paige is. 

“Why?” Azzi asks, her tone rife with heaviness. 

“Why what?” 

“After everything, after all this time, why would you still want to be in my life?” the tears fall harder as Azzi struggles to breathe, “I- I broke your heart. I broke us. How could you possibly want that again. How could you possibly want me again?”

Paige's eyes soften as she cups Azzi’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away at the drops of water running down them, “because you’re Azzi. My Azzi. And I get it- I get that you’re not ready to be all in on this with me yet and if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not completely ready either. But we can work on it right? Take it slow and see where it goes and maybe we’ll- maybe we’ll be even better this time.”

“You think so?”

“I believe so.”

Azzi presses her lips delicately against Paige’s, reveling in the way it makes Paige’s breath hitch. She pulls away faster than she would like herself and Paige chases her lips, eyes still closed. 

“What was that for,” the blonde asks, slightly dazed. 

“For being my Paige.”

***

Azzi taps her foot impatiently against her wooden patio as she glances at her phone clock for the umpteenth time. Paige is almost twenty minutes late to pick her and Stephie up to go to dinner at her parent’s house. The invites had technically been separate but Paige had insisted that they needed to go together because Paige didn’t want to walk into the house alone. Azzi’s not sure why Paige is nervous to see her dad and brothers again, not when she’s pretty sure they’re bursting with excitement to see the blonde whose pictures still have a permanent place on the family photo wall, but if Paige wants Azzi by her side, well she’s not going to say no. Not anymore. 

 It’s been a week since they’d agreed to take things slow and Azzi’s still not quite sure what exactly that means, but she thinks she likes it. She likes being able to call Paige and not having to come up with a lame excuse for why. She likes that she and Paige can take Stephie out for ice cream after Curry Camp and they don’t have to pretend they’re only tolerating each other’s presence for the little girl’s sake. She likes that they can brush their pinkies while walking and instead of jolting away, they simply just link them together. There’s boundaries of course. No sleepovers at either of their houses. No doing anything more than kissing. No kissing in front of anyone else and definitely no kissing in front of Stephie. No doing anything in front of Stephie really. And there’s still so much mountain left to climb but as long as they’re pushing up it together, Azzi doesn’t think there’s any incline steep enough to stop her from continuing up this path.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals as Paige’s car rounds the corner into Azzi’s driveway. 

Paige steps out of the car, arms wide open and ready to catch Stephie as the little girl goes tumbling down the front porch, aiming straight for the blonde. Azzi’s not an artist by any means but if she was, she thinks she could paint a thousand pictures of Stephie and her Miss Buecks. It terrifies Azzi a little bit, just how perfectly Stephie fits into Paige’s side but it calms her too because there’s a part of her that’s in love with how much they love each other.

“You’re late Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she follows her daughter’s path down the patio stairs. 

Paige grins, shifting Stephie on her lap as she opens the side door to her car to pull out two bouquets of flowers

“Will these make up for it?” she asks slyly as she hands the larger one, an assortment of pink flowers, to Azzi and a slightly smaller bouquet of purple hydrangeas to Stephie. 

“These are so pretty Miss Buecks,” Stephie gushes before pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek left cheek and Paige beams at the compliment, “thank you Miss Buecks.”

“You took that long to get flowers?” Azzi asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, “you’re supposed to thank someone when they give you a gift.”

“Yeah Azzi,” Paige’s eyes glimmer with mirth, “thank me like Stephie thanked me. Don’t you think Mama owes me a kiss on the cheek Steph?”

Azzi narrows her eyes at the scheming pair in front of her as Stephie nods animatedly at Paige’s question, “yeah Mama you owe Miss Buecks a kiss on the cheek.”

Shaking her head, Azzi walks over to Paige taking deliberately steady steps. Slowly Azzi leans in, puckering her lips. Paige closes her eyes and Azzi winks at Stephie who’s eyes widen. 

“I’m waiting,” Paige sing-songs, a self-satisfied smirk taking over her features. 

And instead of the promised kiss, Azzi licks a sloppy strip down Paige’s cheek and the blonde shrieks as both Azzi and Stephie burst into laughter.

“EW AZZI GROSS,” Paige whines, hurriedly rubbing her shirt against her cheek, “is this what you’re teaching your daughter?”

“I’m teaching my daughter not to let anyone manipulate her,” Azzi says, giving Paige a careful look, “now why were you late?”

Paige grins sheepishly as she opens the door to the backseat of the door. A lavender car seat is placed on the left side of the car and Azzi feels her heart lurch with no one’s ever cared like this. 

“It’s pu-ple,” Stephie claps excitedly, “is it for me?”

“Of course it is,” Paige confirms, booping Stephie’s nose before looking at Azzi, “it’s just- we uh- we always have to take your car cause it has the car seat and moving it between cars is such a hassle. So I just thought- you know- I just thought it’d be cool- useful- practical- if I had one too? And this way if you ever need me to take Stephie off you then I uh- then you don’t have to worry about me driving. I don’t- I don’t really knows much about car seats but I looked it up online before and the person at the store agreed that this is definitely the best one- like I swear it’s safe-”

She’s cut off by the feel of Azzi’s lips pressed to her cheeks. 

“Thank you Paige.”

***

Just as Azzi expected, Paige merges herself back into the Fudd family with the same ease she’d first had when she’d carved out a place for herself almost a decade and a half ago. It’s a little emotional at first when Tim opens the door, a smile almost as big as him decorating his face as he pulls Paige into a hug even before she can say a word. 

“Welcome home kid,” he whispers into her blonde hair and Azzi doesn’t have to see Paige’s face to know that her best friend is blinking away tears. 

Guilt surges in Azzi’s stomach and she tries to swallow away the lump of i took this from her that’s blocking her throat. It had been so simple at 15 to give Paige a part of her world; Azzi hadn’t thought twice about it. And then with the snap of her fingers, she’d taken that world away. She knows her parents had never cut Paige out; hell they’d been at her wedding to some other woman -and Azzi had pushed them to go knowing Paige would need it- but it was a far cry from what they’d been. A far cry from when Paige’s schedule was a key factor while planning Fudd family summers. 

“Hey,” Stephie pouts, tiny hands crossed over her small body “I thought you always gave me the first hug Pops.”

“We’ll make an exception today,” Tim says with a wink before letting Paige walk into Katie’s arms and spinning his granddaughter around, “but you’re always gonna be my favorite.”

“I better be,” Stephie threatens and the adults around her laugh. 

And finally it’s Azzi's turn to be pulled into one of her dad’s patent bear hugs. She goes willingly, always at her most warmest in the arms of the man whose blood might not run through her veins, but whose love had always protected her from the cruelties of the world. 

“You look really happy today sweetheart,” Tim says softly. 

Azzi’s eyes flitter over her father’s shoulder to where Jon and José are embroiling Paige in a group hug with Stephie in the middle of it, screaming about finally having their “white sister” back, as Katie and José’s fiancé Tallulah roll their eyes at the group of them, and she can’t help but smile into her dad’s shirt, “I feel pretty happy today.”

*** 

“You cheated,” Jon yells. 

“Miss Buecks does not cheat,” Stephie yells back loyally. 

“Don’t get into this Stephie. You don’t know her like we do,” José glares at Paige who narrows her eyes at him, “she’s been stealing from the bank.”

“Miss Buecks does not  steal,” Stephie defends again, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck from behind as the blonde presses a quick kiss against Stephie’s temple. 

“It’s okay Stephie,” Paige reassures, gently swinging the little girl into her lap, “some people are just sore losers.”

“Can’t be a sore loser because I didn’t lose-” José coughs and Jon corrects himself immediately, “because we didn’t lose.”

“Y’all let it go,” Tallulah groans, leaning her head back against the sofa, “it’s literally just monopoly. Please, I'm so tired.”

“Just monopoly? JUST MONOPOLY?” José guffaws dramatically, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who doesn’t understand that it isn’t just monopoly Tallulah. It’s about liars and cheats and honor-”

“Miss Buecks has plenty of honor,” Stephie says stubbornly, leaning her head back against Paige’s chest.

Jon rounds on Azzi, who’s been silently watching the situation, “did you help her cheat?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi asks, glaring at her brother from where she’s been comfortable reclining on the sofa. She’d opted to be the banker instead of playing, content just handing out money to the rest of them while watching the game unfold. But really she hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone else but her daughter and Paige. Stephie didn’t quite understand the rules yet and so she was always on someone’s team. It had been a given tonight, that of course she would be with Paige. And Azzi had watched, trying not to be too obvious, with a foolish grin on her face, as her two favorite people whispered to each other, Paige listening intently to all of Stephie’s ideas whether they were good or bad. 

“Oh good point,” José turns to look at Azzi too, “you’re the banker, did you help Paige cheat?”

“Mama would never cheat,” Stephie argues defiantly as Azzi pushes herself up from the sofa to send a menacing look to both of her brothers. 

“I’m not going to dignify that accusation with a justification,” Azzi says, standing so she’s towering over her two brothers who are still sitting on the floor, “now clean up the game. It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime.”

 They might be well into their twenties and José might be taller than her now, but they’re still not quite  immune to Azzi’s wrath. Tallulah and Paige snicker as the two men, sulking at each other, obey their older sister's command without another word. 

“You’ve gotta teach me how you do that,” Tallulah says, hi-fiving Azzi who smirks in response. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, “what does dig-ni-fy mean?”

“Mean she’s not gonna entertain your uncles being dumba-”

“Paige!”

“Being dumbapples,” Paige corrects and both Azzi and Stephie give her an odd look at her ridiculous attempt at saving the bad word from leaving her lips. 

“Alright Stephie-bean,” Azzi says, pulling her daughter off of Paige’s lap, “it’s late enough. Off to brush your teeth you go.”

Stephie looks hesitantly between the staircase leading up to the guest bedroom -where she and Azzi normally stayed- and Paige. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay with us tonight?” she asks softly, one hand bunching in Paige’s shirt as she stares up at her mother with large doe eyes, “please Mama.”

“Stephie I don’t think-” Paige begins, ready to stick to the boundaries they’d laid out for themselves and really Azzi should let her; should follow her lead really.  

Except the words are tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop them, “yeah she can- she can stay.”

“YAYY,” Stephie squeals, jumping into Azzi’s arms as Paige stares up at her in surprise, “thank you, thank you, thank you Mama. I’m so happy,” she swings from Azzi to Tallulah, “aunty Tully did you hear? Miss Buecks is gonna stay with us and you can make her your famous pancakes in the morning.”

“I can, can I?” Tallulah asks with a raised eyebrow as she lets Stephie and her excited chatter lead her towards the bathroom. With Jon and José both having already started towards their own rooms and Azzi’s parents fast asleep, it leaves just Paige and Azzi in the living room. 

“You’re okay with me staying?” Paige asks softly, finally lifting herself from the floor and onto her feet. 

Azzi scratches the back of her neck, “if- if you want to. You don’t have to. I can- I’ll explain to Stephie-”

“I want to,” Paige says, taking a cautious step towards Azzi, “but the rules?”

“This doesn’t count,” Azzi justifies and Paige smirks, taking another step towards the brunette. 

“It doesn’t?”

“We said no sleeping over at each other’s places. This is my parent’s house. So technically it doesn’t count,” Azzi shrugs, trying to keep her face from breaking into a grin as Paige moves one more step closer. 

“And where exactly am I sleeping?” Paige asks with a knowing grin as she loops an arm around Azzi’s waist, briefly checking to make sure no one’s around. 

Azzi tilts her head, letting the grin break through, “I think Stephie would like it if you slept with us.”

“Ah well if that’s what Stephie would like,” Paige says, nodding commiseratingly. 

“For Stephie’s sake,” Azzi repeats as she wraps her arm around Paige’s neck, pressing her forehead against the older girl’s and letting herself just breathe in the peace that comes with being all consumed by Paige. 

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is laced with uncharacteristic vulnerability as she speaks again, “you won’t- you won’t run away again tomorrow morning will you?”

“No,” Azzi promises, gently brushing her lips against Paige’s, “I won’t run away again.”

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Fruit Roll Ups

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, kissing, gender neutral terms, that's really it?

Another fic based on another Waterparks song

I got some Fruit By The Foot if you wanna come over

Yea, you can wrap your arms so tight

Right 'round my shoulders

In case you're scared of the movies I pick

I'm sorry in advance for that shit

Mattheo and you always had a very flirty relationship. At least, on his end. Complimenting you, hitting on you, telling you horrible pickup lines. He loved when you smiled or laughed at it. He’d even loved it if you rolled your eyes. He actually liked you, though. He had no idea if you liked him back or just liked his flirting.

He finally got the courage to ask you out after watching you with your friends in the courtyard while he was with friends on the other side. Theo and Blaise picked up on him staring at you and started teasing him, making fun of him for pining over you but never doing anything.

“Are you ever gonna ask them out?” Theo smiled at him.

“Yes. I’ll do it when I’m ready.” Mattheo frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets with a sigh, still not looking away from you.

“Is the staring helping? Blaise added on the other side of Mattheo.

“Can you shut up? I’m taking this at my own pace.” Mattheo said, shoving Blaise while Theo and Blaise laughed.

“Just ask them. They’re either willing to give you a chance and say ‘yes’ or they don’t and say ‘no’. It won’t matter when you ask.” Blaise said.

“It’s not like everyone can’t see you guys eye-fucking in class anyways.” Theo added.

“Shut it.” Mattheo sighed, running a hand through his hair before he found himself starting to walk over to you.

When you talk

It's in cursive to me

And it's nicer than anything I'd believe

About me

It's like that shit was written in gel pen

And I love those

“Hey, (Y/N).” Mattheo’s voice said from behind you.

You turn around to see him standing behind you, hands in his pockets, hair a little messy but still cute. “Hey, Mattheo.” You smiled at him.

He smiled and looked down, shifting on his feet before looking back up at you. If only you knew how much your voice affected him. “I think I remember you saying you liked horror movies, right?”

“Yeah. Why?” You nodded.

“Uh, I have some that I haven’t watched yet and all my friends are too much of pussies to watch them with me. I was wondering if you wanted to come to my dorm to watch them one night.” He said, eyes locked on yours. He seemed nervous, which was very unusual for him. “I have a bunch of those little chocolate frogs you like too. I don’t think I’ll ever finish them. I have way too many.”

“Yeah, sure. That sounds fun. Maybe this weekend.” You said with a smile, which seemed to ease him.

“Sweet. Uh, I’ll text you later about the details.” He said, his own smile making its way back on his face before he started backing away, sending you a wink before turning around, taking a deep breath when he knew you wouldn’t notice.

If you want to see me

Acting so desperately

So desperately

All you gotta do is stop texting me

Just to flex on me

He texted you about the movie night a few hours later, not wanting to seem too eager or desperate, just trying to confirm when you’d want to have it. Except you didn’t reply. He didn’t mind the first 10 minutes. After that, he started thinking about it. Maybe he worded it wrong? 20 minutes passed and he kept checking his phone. Did he offend you? 1 hour passed. Maybe you never actually wanted to have a movie night with him.

He left his dorm to find Theo. Theo was good when it came to getting with people.

“I don’t get it. I just asked them when they wanted to have a movie night.” Mattheo said, pacing the room as Theo looked at the text on his phone.

“It’s been an hour.” Theo said, laying on his bed, looking back at Mattheo with a blank face.

“Exactly! An hour and they never replied!” Mattheo said, gesturing his hands wildly.

“They could be studying.” Enzo said, sprawled on an armchair in Theo’s dorm with a book in his lap.

“They’re probably just busy.” Theo tossed Mattheo’s phone on the bed.

It's true

I'm a little bitch for you now

I don't wanna say it way too loud

But I'm a little bitch for you now

His phone suddenly lit up with a notification and Mattheo nearly jumped to grab it, falling to his knees beside the bed as he checked his phone. He smiled when he saw your name and quickly unlocked his phone to read the text you sent him.

“It’s fine. They were napping.” Mattheo said to the two boys, who honestly couldn’t really care less, but found amusement in how desperate Mattheo was to get a text from you.

“See. It was nothing.” Theo said, picking up his own phone to go back to scrolling through it. “Nothing to worry about.”

“I wasn’t worried.” Mattheo said quickly, standing back up as he typed out a text to you.

“Right.” Theo said, raising his eyebrows as he glanced over at Enzo, who shared a look with him.

“Whipped.” Enzo fake-coughed into his hand, getting a laugh from Theo before dodging a shoe Mattheo threw at him and laughing himself.

“I’m not whipped.”

I bought these really sick lights if you wanna come over

They tried to scam me twice

But look

They both can change colors

Like that

I don't wanna leave my house

'Cause in here I'm the ruler

With my refrigerator

Full of Pacific Cooler

But for you I'd brave all the traffic outside

The way you brave all the bullshit I hold inside

You knocked on the door to his dorm at the agreed time, greeted by Mattheo opening his door only seconds later, smiling at you. You both agreed to just wearing comfy clothes, and he looked so good in his sweats and a tee-shirt, his hair was slightly wet from a shower not too long ago. He couldn’t help the flutter in his heart seeing you out of your school uniform. 

“Hey, come in.” He said, moving to let you come in.

You stepped inside his dorm, looking around.

“I got a bunch of snacks and drinks. I remember you told me about this muggle drink you had as a kid so I found some. Wanted to try it with you.” He said, closing the door behind you, watching you nervously as you looked around his dorm. He spent hours deep cleaning it, but if you asked, he was always this clean.

“Thanks. You didn’t need to do all that.” You said and turned around to smile at him.

Your smile. He nearly felt his heart stop. He nearly blurted out ‘I’d do anything for you’ but stopped himself. “Hey, look at this.” He said, trying to turn your attention off of him and calm himself down as he grabbed a remote off his desk and changed the lights in his room from the warm yellow to green, then to red, then blue, then purple.

Oh it's true

(Ooo)

I'm a little bitch for you now

I'm a little bitch

Oh my God

Did I say that too loud?

It's true

I'm a little bitch for you now

I don't wanna say it way too loud

But I'm a little bitch for you now

You both laid down in his bed, watching the horror movies on his tv, snacks scattered between you. His heart was pounding, but it wasn’t from the movie. If you paid enough attention, you could feel his leg bouncing from nerves. He made funny commentary, sounding relaxed. His eyes bounced between you and the tv, making sure you were comfortable and the movie wasn’t bothering you. 

He finally turned his head to look at you fully, watching the light from the tv dance across your face, looking at the little details on your face.

“You okay?” You asked, looking back at him.

“Yeah, just…” He trailed off, not taking his eyes off of you.

He reached a hand over to cup your cheek, leaning closer until his lips hovered over yours. He stayed there for a moment, just looking in your eyes before connecting his lips with yours softly. He really didn’t even know what he was doing. His body took over before his mind could catch up. His mind finally did catch up when he felt you kiss him back. He only parted from you when he needed to breathe, and even then, he was only inches from your face, a huge grin breaking across his.

If you want to see me

Acting so desperately

(I could freestyle you a verse)

So desperately

(Or maybe a hook)

All you gotta do is stop texting me

(I bought these paintings to impress you)

(Did it work?)

Just to flex on me

Theo woke up to his dorm door being thrown open by Mattheo.

“What the fuck do you want?” Theo groaned, rolling over to check the time on his phone.

“They didn’t text back again. You think I fucked up with the kiss?” Mattheo asked, coming over to the side of his bed.

“It is 2 IN THE MORNING! THEY’RE SLEEPING! LIKE I WAS!” Theo yelled, angry that Mattheo woke him up for something so stupid.

Mattheo frowned at him for a moment. “So you don’t think I fucked up with the kiss?”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” Theo yelled and threw a pillow at him.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu @prettypinkprincess15 @starryslytherin0

@schaebickel tagging you since you liked my last one :)

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[itaipava]

— f1 boys reacting to their crush setting them up with someone else.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

internally, he would panic; his mind would be racing with a thousand thoughts and questions. he’d act a little interested just to please you, but honestly, he’d only be half-listening to you talking about your friend because he’s too busy staring at your lips. when you’re done, he doesn’t say anything, he just stares at you. he knows he won’t be able to fully confess then and there, but it won’t be more than a few days after he decides to let you know of his feelings for you.

“so, what do you think? will you go on a date with them this weekend?”

“uhm... they seem to be nice but like... i don’t want to, y/n, there’s someone else i like.”

“oh, alright. who?”

the only reply you get is a nonchalant shrug and a very, very deep and a sweet gaze.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

he’s little slower to recognize his feelings, so this event might just be what causes him to see things clearer and realize that he likes you more than a friend. he half-reluctantly goes on the date you set up for him and your friend, and although he is polite to your friend the whole time, all he could think about is you. by the end of the night, the first thing he does is call one of his closest friends aka you.

“hey, wanna hear something crazy?... i think i like y/n, as more than a friend.. isn’t that crazy??”

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

although a little upset, he tries to go along with it. he remains polite but drops hints that he has someone he likes and that his crush is too much of an idiot to notice. basically, he puts up with you playing matchmaker and patiently waits until the end of the day when it’s just the two of you. you’re walking home together in silence when he casually brings up the subject.

“you know, you trying to set me up with your friend - as annoying as it is - isn’t going to make me lose my feelings for you.”

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

apart from feeling a little awkward, he would be really chill about it. he finds the situation amusing, letting out chuckles and barely sparing a few glances as you show him pictures of your friends on your phone, scrolling one by one. only when you get pouty, he relents and try to give the impression that he’s paying attention. and when you get to the group photos, he casually points at your smiling face in the picture.

“this one is so cute; are they available?”

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

he would be polite to your friend who you’re trying to set him up with, but even if he tried, his disinterest in them would be so obvious, which would only make the situation more awkward. he would honestly feel all kinds of emotions at the same time: understanding yet hurt because you put him with someone else clearly shows that you don’t feel the same. he would then be honest with you, but accidentally let a confession slip.

“i do appreciate what you’re doing, but i don’t need your help okay? i am capable of finding a date myself...i think.”

“then why haven’t you?”

“because i’m trying to move on from you first, y/n...”

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

this would put him in such an awkward position. he’s also frustrated because he has his own plans as to how and when he would confess but you trying to set him up with someone else would make him not want to wait any longer. a lot of nervous laughter that he tries to mask as genuine laughter;

“you know what would make this whole situation even more awkward? me confessing how much i like you and that you setting me up with your friend is kinda breaking my heart...”

“well— wait what?”

“what? no no. i mean... you know what, no. no, that is exactly what i mean.”

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

he’s in denial of his feelings for you, which is the only reason why he’s - hesitantly af - agreed to go on a date with your friend. this pushes him to come to terms with how he feels about you. and, reluctantly, he tries to make it clear that he only has eyes for you, so when you confront him about what happened between him and your friend, he just rolls his eyes and starts to say his ‘ideal type’

“yeah right but what’s the difference between your ideal type and my friend? c’mon max, she’s perfect for you!”

“don’t be a idiot, my ideal type is you, and only you. do you want me to draw?”

[purplepickles]

“Under The Covers”

Pairings: Central cee x black fem reader

Genre: fluff

Authors Note: it’s my first time writing on tumblr so bare with me I also haven’t haven’t written anything in like years I used to a Wattpad author in like 2017-2019😭 so imagine what I used to be writing. It’s not my best peice of work but it’s progress kinda messy icl in terms of storyline but it’s something anyways I hope everyone enjoys it 💗

You had just signed a contract with vogue for a new segment they were trying out for they’re YouTube channel called “Under the Covers”. It was in a podcast style in a bedroom setting hence the name and basically talking about the latest fashion trends tips or anything black girl related.

You were so grateful for this opportunity never in your life would you have imagine a little black girl from London was able to sign a massive deal with vogue. The topic of todays video was maintenance. How you maintain standards for yourself if that means relationship, mental or physical health. So instead of it being in their studio you wanted your video being a bit more homely so why not in your home. The producers had set everything up in your room making sure everything was ready for filming but this video was going to have a little extra twist. You were going to have your very first guest and they how they managed to maintain their life and overall humbleness with the fame he had gained over the years.

You kept your relationship on the down low on the respect of each other careers and not wanting to surround your relationship over it. You were actually calm with that but he wasn’t liking seeing people he fucked with in your dms with heart eyes.

Little did Yn know he was going to announce it in their video together.

“Okay I’m going to count down from 5 and we’ll start filming” said the producer

5

4

3

2

1

“Hi Vogue it’s me Yn/ln and welcome to our new segment called Under the covers where uncover beauty secrets fashion and every black girl related. But today’s video things are little different we’re in my actual bedroom and I have a special guest with us he’s one of my favourites rappers right now a current world wide sensation Central Cee”

“I didn’t know I was your favourite artist”

“Yes you did you’re also my most listened to artist on Spotify we’ve defo talked about this”

“Mhmmm”

You rolled your eyes and continued with the video

“Anyways let’s get straight into todays topic: maintenance. How to do maintain eye yourself to keep your life somewhat stable”

“I guess keeping my mum,my brothers, my fans and my girl happy innit. If they’re happy I’m happy” said central cee never straying away from eye contact from the love of his life

“And what you say is the hardest one to keep happy and why” Yn was very curious about this who knew where this could go

“My girl defo she’s says I’m annoying I think she hates me”

The way your head slowly snapped

“Did you not say at Amelia Dinner Date you like girls you hate you”

“Yh I did I turns me on but she’s just something Yk I’m just infatuated by her but maybe I’m a bit delusional when it comes to her yk idk if that’s a good thing or bad thing. Kinda new to this love thing and not messing up yk I don’t wanna get it wrong again I really like her”

That was probably the most beautiful thing he’s said in a while she didn’t know he felt like this she sometimes she can be a bit rude and her sarcasm can be taken the wrong way but she thought he knew between the lines that she didn’t hate him she lived more than anything.

“I think you should talk to her about your feeling more Yk. Don’t be shy on opening up more Yk. When you feel ready ask her what she thinks it’s possibly lacking” she smiled at him with reassurance hoping that he could through her eyes that’s it okay and she was listening

“Yh your right imma tell her right now!”

Yn chocked on her drink. He could not be serious. She should’ve known this boy was up to something

“As in right now!? I’m sure she’s busy” you said trying to get to him to change his mind

“Nah she’s not im calling her rn”

For someone who didn’t like interviews this but sure had a lot to say

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

Your phone was on the other side of the room Ringing none stop.

Everyone was looking at you. You knew the producers were loving this but you were not this was too much.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

“Yn are you gonna pick up you phone”

you usually loved his smile but this was just devious.

“Do I have to” you were just dreading this

Everyone shouted yes. You rolled out bed and a grabbed the phone

“Hi baby”

“Hi cench, now can we get back to the video please”

“Yes Cench we can. You wanna cuddle too?”

//

The video was going well there was laughter within the whole room. You asked him the question that you were assigned to ask him everything was going great. You loved being under your lovers arms. Maybe letting people in wasn’t so bad.

“Thank you vogue for this absolutely-

A knock on the door you both looked at door and someone opened to little boy running in crying and jumping to Oakley’s arm. How many surprises could one video take you said to yourself in your head.

“What’s up little man” Oakley now went into full father mode his whole rapper persona was switched and all he cared about was understanding why his little boy was upset

“Had a bad dream” said the little one

“How about we say goodbye to vogue and make some hot chocolate” you said while trying to tickle him

“Right I think me and vogue has had enough surprises don’t forget to like subscribe and hit that notification and stay tuned for next weeks video about Motherhood and Careers with a icon mother and billionaire. Bye guys”

[dreamings-free]

Louis about LT3

a summary UPDATED

Sep 2022 first time Louis mentions a 3rd album. Louis is quoted in Euphoria Magazine saying: “Ideally, I’d like to try and write the next record before I go on tour next year. I want to do something similar to what I’ve done this past year.” (but from what we know now it seems it didn't play out that way..)

Sep 14th 2022 Louis leaves a comment on Faith In The Future co-writer Nico Rebscher's instagram post about Out Of My System saying "Can’t wait to do more on the next album!"

Jan 2023 Louis is on holiday in Cabo, Mexico and is spotted travelling with his guitar - maybe in case inspiration strikes!?

Feb 22nd 2023 Louis is seen "a tiny village with a recording studio in it". A few days later both Louis and Matt Vines likes an instagram post by Faith In The Future co-writer David Sneddon captioned "Spent the week at @ angelicstudiouk with friends and heroes." Another FITF co-writer Theo Hutchcraft is seen in one of the photos.

May 11th 2023 Louis tweets: "Also probably shouldn’t mention this so early in the process but I’m feeling really confident creatively, just finished a week of writing and it was unbelievable. Exciting!"

May 13th 2023 When asked about the next album at the LA screening of All Of Those Voices, he answered: “I recently just started, yeah. The majority have been my own, but some of the lyrics is less direct, so it’s maybe not quite as specifically about me but,I felt really fulfilled, the last couple of writing sessions I’ve done have been really, really good.”

Nov 23rd 2023 Louis gets asked about album 3 at the Rolling Stone UK Awards and is quoted saying: “It’s funny, I wrote maybe 4 or 5 tunes in one of the breaks of the tour legs, and actually, I just wanna spend a bit of time. I’m really excited for those songs, but I don’t know when the next records gonna come and the thing about me is when I start writing, I’m just desperate to release things as soon as a possible, so I wanna take a bit of time on this record. So when that might be, who knows.” He also talks a bit about potential collaborators and mentions DMA'S.

Jan 20th 2024 Louis follows producer James Ellis Ford who has worked with Arctic Monkey, Gorillaz and many, many more.

Jan 24th 2024 When asked in a twitter Q&A if he has "a concept in mind already for the next album?" his answer was: "Started drawing the outline in my head". He also told fans asking at the meet 'n' greet in Jakarta that it would be "soon, in my context of the word" 😜

Mar 30th 2024 At the Tecate Pa'l Norte press conference he said: “At the moment, um— to be honest, I haven’t really— the question was what I listen to which is a slightly different thing but; I haven’t really given the next record real thought yet. Obviously it’s been on my mind. But in terms of conceptually, or even finding references, I’m not really at that point yet because I’ve done a lot of touring— just kind of getting that out of the way before I really start thinking about that proper.”

April 4th 2024 He told Chilean radio station Bio Bio: “I have written a couple of songs, but when I was writing them I wasn’t thinking about what they would be for a new album, they were just written to give me something to write and not put pressure on those songs. But I think I will start the work on a new album at the end of this year, maybe.” futher elaborating to Radio Disney Chile: “The good thing about this record is I’m gonna have plenty of time to experiment and with that it gives you plenty of room to just kind of find where the edges of the record live. So yeah I’m looking forward to getting into the process, but like I said I’ve been loving touring at the moment so just been kind of sticking to that.”.

He also told Paraguayan radio station HEI Now: “Of course there’ll be a new album. When? I’m not overly sure. I think I’ll probably start writing at the end of the year. I just wanna let as much life in first and then I can really start emoting and writing.”

June 2024 In the FITF tour LatAm recap video posted to Louis’ instagram 25/6 he says: “At some point I gotta think about the next record, but.. I’m a bit scared of that, truthfully right now, feel like I’ve been enjoying the success of Faith in The Future for.. quite a while. And yes, it’s been the pressure of the shows but I delivered what I think was a good record and a record that was successful. So now going into the next cycle it’s a little bit.. a little bit tentative going into it. I know that’ll change once I get off the road and really start thinking about the essence of the record and the concept of the record and stuff like that. But right now.. yeah, I’m just thinking about the festivals, I’m excited for those.” (he also talks - in past tense about playing in Mexico City and about the upcoming Away From Home Festival, so we can assume this interview was done somewhere in early June)

August 4th 2024 Responding to a fan sign at Santander Music Festival that said "How close R we to the next album 1-5?" showing three - possibly four? - fingers! meaning the album is 3/5 (or 4/5?) done!

tbc...

[slashingdisneypasta]

Kung Fu Panda Villains x Reader || Drabbles

Plot / Includes: The common theme is tea XD

General Kai x Immortal!Reader: After coming back to the living plain as a spirit warrior, Kai’s first stop is to find you, an immortal ex-lover. Will you be happy to see him, though??

Lord Shen x ChildhoodFriend!Reader: You make Shen some tea because he’s always so uptight, and you crave a nice moment with him ^^

Tai Lung x Reader: The first thing Tai Lung does after escaping prison is visit you, his girlfriend/boyfriend/romantic partner from before he was imprisoned- and you’ve been waiting for him ^^

Annnnd, this is my first attempt at writing any of these guys, so I’m sorry if they aren’t quite right!

Warnings: I guess Tai gets a little frisky with you? But not really XD He’s just happy to see you!! XD

General Kai:

… A spirit warrior. This man leaves you for war, starts stealing peoples chi, doesn’t come back for 5 hundred years- and when he finally does come back, he is something called a spirit warrior??

You are deeply unamused. And he knows it- how could he not? You are standing in your doorway looking up at him with a scowl on your lips. He better be intimidated.

“So… “Your voice is as cold as ice, eyes narrowing in distaste as he rubs the back of neck in nervousness at your reaction to him after all these years. Not because he is nervous, but because he has the good sense to look it. “how did it go??”

“Wh- uh… the war??”

“Yes.”

“Well, I um… Oogway banished me to the spirit realm… “

“I heard… “

“Oh, you know. So- uh- you know, that’s why I haven’t been around… not that I didn’t wanna see you, or forgot you or, or anything… “

“Uhuh… “

“Look, can I come in?” He suddenly snaps, dropping his large arms to his sides and moving in closer to you, letting go of the façade of nervousness. “I got other places to be.”

“Oh! You have other places to be??” Immediately Kai realises he has said the wrong thing, when you light up like this. “Great! Go there!”

Then you slam the door in his face. You think he was so close that it knocked his nose- you hope that it knocked his nose. You stay by the door just long enough to hear him grunt on the other side, before sweeping off further into your house to start forgetting he came at all. You spent over 500 years missing him, he can’t just come back one day and treat you like a stop along the way.

Also- what he did, what he is no doubt still trying to do, is unforgiveable. And you refuse to be party to it. No way.

When your door literally flies off the hinges behind you, slamming into the ground with a huge, loud THUD, you whip around with wide eyes and take in a deep breath- ready to yell at this bastard for knocking down your goddamn door-

But he strolls on in, breaking your door further when he steps on it, and holds a hoof up to your face- silencing you. “Y/N… Come on, lets just talk about this.” As you stay completely silent then, Kai takes the opportunity to soften a little bit, using those bovine eyes on you in that way he knows used to make you melt once upon a time. “I missed you.”

… damnit, it still has an effect on you. Not quite the same effect, you’re still holding together - you’re still pissed, - , but that little part of you that was there since you saw him today that desperately wants to accept him back- get a little bit louder.

Now, you can’t do that, you can’t just forgive him, but you can hear him out. On your terms, but… you can be okay with him being in your house… at least. You guess. So, straightening up, you brush his hoof out of your way with the back of your hand, relishing inwardly in the way his face drops at the motion, and head towards the kitchen.

“… fine. Fix that door and if you manage to do that before I finish the tea, you can have some. Deal?”

“I’m on it.”

Lord Shen:

“Shen? I made tea, and thought you might want a cup before you leave?”

“Tea?... I don’t need your tea- “

“Agree to disagree. Sit down.”

This made Lord Shen look at you as if you grew 3 heads and shat on the rug for a good long moment, but you don’t remove your gaze from his even though he’s scary, and after a few moments, he narrows his eyes at you and sits down on the other side of the mat. Success-

“Just a sip.” He tells you, in that hushed voice of his that can be goddamn terrifying depending on what you’ve done, as he picks up a cup in is wing. “I’ve never had tea from you, before… Wonder if it’ll be palatable.” He thinks out loud, half to himself and half to bother you, peering into the cup.

Oh, now- Rolling your eyes, you raise a cup to your own lips, feeling the warmth in your hands, and nod to him. Go on. “Well only one way to find out.” You’ve known Shen for a long time now, you grew up together, so his meanness doesn’t do quite the same thing to you as it does to others. Also, you’ve always been rather resilient, and a little naïve. No matter how hard someone may try to convince you, you cant truly believe that Shen is evil. Evil doesn’t really exist, and if it does then surely it has worse things to do then live inside Shen.

You feel like people calling him evil is just an easy way for them to compartmentalize, and you would rather know him. Which you do. That’s how you kept up eye contact with this insane bird-

“Right… “

As you take a sip yourself, and feel the warm liquid slide down your throat and fill your insides with lovely heat, you wait patiently for Shen to do the same. It takes him a moment, scowling at you as you drink your tea, before he lets out a dramatic sigh and tries it himself. “Alright, alright.” You watch his pretty face change, no longer does it look like he smelt something awful- it actually looks… surprised. Vaguely pleasantly surprised, as a matter of fact, as he looks back into the cup. “… hm.”

“Hmm?~ “

“Its… well, I’m not dead.”

“Did you really think it would kill you, Shen? That I would try to kill you?” You deadpan, but raise your brows expectantly when he raises his eyes to you.

… He pauses. “… well- “

“Shen!”

“You’re right, you wouldn’t have what it takes, would you? No… “ Smirking, Shen takes another sip of his tea. “Thank you, though. This tea is remarkably edible.”

… sighing, you roll your eyes look away as you take another sip yourself. “Thanks. You’re welcome.”

Shen steals your attention again, though, as he drains the last of his tea and holds out the cup to you, an oddly adorable - yet still crazy, - expression on his face. Soft, and almost pleading. “… Can I have some more, then?” His voice, of course, is still terrifying.

A slow grin spreads across your face. “… I thought you were on your way out?”

“Oh shut up, and pour me some tea.”

Tai Lung:

“Y/N!” A familiar voice yells, banging at your front door.

“Tai??” You ask, wide eyed and shocked as you pull the door open and see him standing there.

“Y/N.” He says again, unbelievable and desperate relief in his tone as he pulls you against his chest in the warmest hug you’ve ever experienced- well, since you last saw him. 20 years ago. He breathes in at your head, taking as much of your scent as he can. As he breathes out, he releases a growl, but it is not an unhappy one- its full of comfort. When he speaks, his voice pitters into a bit of whine, at the end. “It’s been too long… “

You just squeeze him closer to you, burying your face in his shoulder and closing your eyes. Its unbelievable to you that he’s here, with you again. How did he get out?? You don’t even care. You don’t even care if he should be out, or what he’s going to do now that he is, you just want to stay here tucked away in him, listening to his heartbeat and holding on to it.

After a few minutes, though, you begin to get nervous someone will see him and call someone- and he would be taken away again- so, sniffing, you pull back gently, and flash him a warm smile; nodding inside. “Do you- do you want some tea??”

Still holding onto your hands/the ends of your wings/paws/etc, his paws being so much larger than what you have, he keeps you close to his body and warmly grins. “I don’t want to let you go, little one.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Alright then.”

You lead him inside and he closes the door behind you both, and while you’re pouring the water into the kettle he wraps his arms around your body from behind and sets his head on top of yours, curling his tail around one of your legs as well. He purrs.

After you set the kettle over the fire Tai Lung sits himself down on one of your kitchen chairs - again, not letting go of your hand/wing/paw/etc at all for even a moment, - before urging you onto his lap where he wraps himself back around you again. “I’ve missed you… “He growls into your hair. “So much, little one… I thought about you, in there, you know… all about you… “

“Oh, I’m assuming you thought about other things, too… “You reply, rolling your eyes, though still very much happy he’s here. Other things, like the scroll… dragon warrior… Shifu… escape…

Chuckling against you, and brushing his tail against you, Tai nods. “Yes, but when I was thinking of you… “ He suddenly squeezes your waist in his paws, making you yelp. “You were the only thing, on my mind… “

“Hmm,” You just him, leaning your head on his chest.

After a few more moments of blessed enjoyment of each other’s company, each other’s touch and warmth, Tai speaks up again. This time, there is a hint of nervousness in his voice that causes you to lift off of his chest in order to watch his face; Concerned. “Were you… uh, I mean, have you… “ Sighing, he looks away for a moment and gathers himself. Then looks back, serious. “Is there anyone else?... “

The look on his face is saying that he wouldn’t blame you, if their were. You were without him for a long, long time. And he would prefer you be happy, with someone else… then depressed, and alone. It would hurt him… but he loves you.

It tells you that you made the right decision in waiting all this time.

With a small, sad smile, you shake your head at him. “I promised you- I would wait. I’m yours, Ta- Ah!“ He kisses you then like he cant help it, growling into your mouth.

When he pulls back, his paw on your jaw, theirs a pleased grin on his face- but unbelievably fond look in his yellow eyes. “… I’m yours too, Y/N.”

[stupidlovergirl]

I Wanna Be Yours

Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Dev Notes: I wrote this over a course of a few months, I had bad writers block, but I powered through because I loved this concept, some of them feel a little repetitive, but we still are ballin. Also, sidenote, Belphie gets a little roughed up (no punches but you do shake him around a lil)

You and Lucifer had been dancing around each other for about a month. You know you're definitely not ‘just friends’, you haven’t been for awhile. Between the quiet moments you have shared together, to the almost kisses, and more importantly the looks he has given you. The vulnerability in his eyes as he lets you take care of him, a first in so, so many years. Eons, if you had to honestly guess. That’s what makes you mad. Lucifer likes to do things on his own terms, and you feel like you have given enough time to do what you obviously both want. So, you’ve finally gathered the courage to confront him. Lucifer may be the demon of pride, but yours won’t allow yourself to be treated as someone who's ‘just a friend’

So, why do you feel so anxious, fear clawing in your stomach and throat as you stand at his office door. ‘You got this’ is all you can chant as you knock softly on his door.

“Come in”

Its do or die. 

As you step in, Lucifer looks up to greet you with a nod.

“Lucifer,” you swallow, “we really need to talk.” At that, he sets down his pen and takes off his glasses

“You sound serious, may I ask about what?”

“About us” It’s do or die. 

The look of surprise that flitted onto his face was quickly replaced with a steely gaze.

“Ah, about us.” He sounds calm, collected, like you didn’t just confront him with your entire relationship.

“What are we Lucifer? Cause it’s not just friends” You did it, but it doesn’t mean you won’t die. The feeling in your throat surely makes you feel like you're going to suffocate. You just know you gotta go on. You can’t hold your love in anymore. Screwing your eyes shut, you take in a few breaths. In, Hold, Out. In, Hold, Out.

“Not just friends?” He repeats at you

“Unless you show the same vulnerability and almost kiss your friends” you reply.

“I like you Lucifer, and I can’t stop anymore. I want to kiss you, I want to hold you, and that isn’t something I want to do with friends. It’s what I want to do with someone I like, someone…someone I love”

When you open your eyes, you see Lucifer, who looks shocked.

“Love?” he whispers, looking into your eyes for the lie

“Love.” you state, feeling the bravest you have the entire time. 

“Would you be mad if I said I loved you too?” he says a little louder, looking at you with a wanting you have grown familiar with. With that you smile

“I’d be more mad if you didn’t” He stands up and finally steps towards you. You meet him halfway.

“So, what does that mean for us?” you whisper, holding his hand

“It means we’re together” he tells you, leaning down to seal the deal with something you have been waiting for.

Mammon would never admit he likes you, even though you and everyone else are very well aware. So, after a while, you get tired. If he “doesn’t like” you, then he wouldn’t mind if you went on a date now would he? You don’t mean to be malicious, but he needs to realize that, while you're fine with a game of chase, people get tired and will stop. He just needs to think that you’re stopping the chase. So, when you called him for outfit input, he had no clue what he was in for.

“Well, which one, this shirt, or this one?” you ask, flipping between them.

“The first one goes with yer pants more” he replies, looking down at his phone

“Thank you!” you reply, gathering the rest of the outfit. You went off to the bathroom to change while Mammon continued to look invested in his phone. You come back, smiling. There’s just something about dressing up that gives someone confidence. You pulled out a gold chain and its matching bracelet. One specifically given to you by your first man.

“Well? How do I look?” you say, turning towards him. 

When he looks up, your expecting the blush on his face, your also expecting the way he quickly turns away from you

“You, you look alright” he mumbles out, looking back slowly. You fake a pout at this response

“Just alright?” you ask, looking at him with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster.

“You look very pretty,” he responds, blushing an even darker shade. You smile, readying your next trick.

You turn away, “Great! I hope my date shares the same sentiment” is all you reply with, going to the mirror to fix your hair. The gasp, yelp, and thud is all you have to hear to know Mammon has fallen off the bed in shock.

“What? Is it that surprising that I got a date?” you ask, turning to look at his scrambling attempts to stand up.

“You- you can’t go on a date!” he says, stumbling towards you. 

“Why not?” you reply

“B-because! You just can’t!” he grabs your shoulders, shaking you

“Mammon, it’s just a date! It probably won’t be anything but that.” you tell him shaking your head and pushing his hands off you.

“Still!” he insists

“Alright, I’ll call it off if you can give me one good reason.” you tell him. You’ve got him, hook line and sinker.

“You can’t go because…because…” he mumbles something, youre pretty sure it’s an “I like you”, but you’ve waited this long and planned to milk it.

“Becauuse?” you ask, smiling

“Because I like you!” he yells, face hot as the sun.

“I like you too, dork” you reply, pulling him in for a kiss 

“Is this the time to tell you there was no date?”

Levi has gotten you so confused lately. You never really put a label on your guys' relationship, but he recently said something, and it irked you. The other day at a con, he had told one of the other people that you were "just a good friend of his”. Which, you know is technically not a lie, but you felt hurt hearing it come from him. Your mind has been heavy with the thought. Just friends. Friends. God, why did that word hurt? It wasn’t a bad thing, but it just didn’t feel right. It dawns on you one day as you sit with Levi as he shows you a new anime he’s been watching.

“Yeah! They’re super popular, and it’s really no surprise, they’re obviously gonna be end game. I was even thinking we could cosplay them at the next con! I think a lot of people…”

Levi’s voice fades into the background. A couples cosplay, he’s suggesting a couple’s cosplay. Why is he suggesting that? You are friends. Just a good friend of his. Yet you know you're not just friends. You guys don't do things just friends do. He gifts you items that are rare in games, and he wouldn't do that for anyone else. You guys have matching profile photos on basically all your social medias and games, you have a playlist made specifically with his taste in mind. You've never done that with anyone that was just a friend to you. That's what you'd do with someone you were dating, or we're into.

Oh.

Oh.

You were into Levi, and subconsciously had been dropping hints. And he's responded to them all. What does that mean? Does that mean he's also into you? What are you? What are you two in his eyes?

“You confuse me” you say, cutting through his words

“Yeah, the plot is a little convoluted but-”

“Not the anime, not the storyline, you Levi, you confuse me” you feel like you're bursting.

“The other day, you said I was just a friend, but now you’re suggesting a couples cosplay? What are you hinting at Levi? What are we?”

Levi looks at you, surprised, then casts his eyes down, face flushing

“I-i dunno…,” he whispers, and you sigh

“I don’t know either, honestly. Whatever we are though, it isn’t just friends” you gulp, and look down at your hands,, “My feelings for you are too strong to just be your friend”

“...Really?” he squeaks out

“Yeah, I- I really, really like you Levi” you mumble out

“I really really like you too…" he replies back in an equally soft voice.

You look up at him, a softly smile, and he gives you a wobbly one back.

Satan and you have been reading the same book recently. You had seen it on display in a store and you both decided to get one and read it.

It was pretty good, a romance novel of two friends who were too scared to tell each other about their feelings, a real slow burn, but it wasn't annoying. You enjoyed it a lot, and Satan seemed to be too.

So imagine your surprise when one of the scenes felt too personal, specifically with the boy who you were sharing the novel with.

When one of the characters bought a romance book, and added notes and highlighted parts that reminded them of the love interest, and gave it to them. It made you think of when Satan would lend you books with his own notes in the margins on sticky notes and flags. It made you giggle, which shocked you.

Why did you feel so floaty at that thought…

Why did you like the thought of Satan doing that for you?

Then you pondered it.

This isn't the first time you've done this, thought of Satan doing something romantic for you.

Actually, you kinda do it a lot. Honestly, you and Satan do a lot of couple based stuff.

Cuddling, grocery shopping, a lot of free time you spend with him.

Huh, you and Satan are basically…

…

Are you and Satan dating?

At that thought you stood up and started your mission of finding the blond, which wasn't difficult.

"Satan?" You speak into the library. You see him stand up from his search from the bottom shelf.

"Hey, there you are," he says, and you approach him.

"I have a question" you ask

Then you pause

"Are we dating?"

Satan looks at you, then starts pondering

"Yes, I guess we are!"

You nodded your head

"Thank you for confirming"

Asmo likes taking you out. Parties, clubs, fancy openings, the highest scale restaurants. He never disappoints, as he always knows where the next best event is. Yet even still, you guys are in agreement, the best event is your weekly spa day. Where you two get to be yourselves, where Asmo drops the act of being perfect for a crowd to just be himself. You've seen Asmo dressed up, looking absolutely ethereal, but nothing is as pretty when he's laughing at a stupid joke he heard the other day and repeated it to you.

So, when your weekly spa date rolled around, and Asmo applied your face cream and started talking about these two demons who have, as he says, "been dancing around each other when it's obvious they want to make out", it makes you laugh.

"How is it obvious?" you ask, watching as he pulls away from your face, and adds the product to his own face.

"Like, they're never apart from each other! Every time I see them, they are together! Not to mention, they do things that is soooo obviously romantic coded for them! They match outfits, like, all the time! Also, they have rings, RINGS!! Like, could that get more obvious?? That's not even getting into their Devilgram posts and captions"

You stop and look at him. Really look at him

"Asmo" you say, but he's still in his rant

"I just wish one would admit they were into the other, it would be so much easier than having to pretend that they're not obviously making eyes at each other-"

"Asmo." you say more stern, trying to catch his attention

"Also, those pet names have for eachother? Like, yeah, they can be platonic, but they're obviously playing it off! And UGHHH ALSO-"

"ASMO!" You shout, finally catching his attention.

"No need to yell, darling, I'm right here!" He huffs playfully, smiling

"What is it?"

"Asmo, we do all that. Like, verbatim"

With that he looks at you, and giggles, a little strained "Yeah I guess we do huh"

"Does that mean we obviously want to make out?" you jokingly ask

The mischievous look in his eyes answer all it self

Beel loves to eat, and even more he loves to eat food you make him. You have started making him simple meals for after Fangol practice. You always come near the end, sitting on the bleachers and waiting for him to finish. Sometimes the other players will come and talk to you, but not that often. It was of these meetings that sparked an idea in your mind.

"Man, Beel is sure lucky to have a partner like you! I wish mine made me something to eat after every pratice" he says, chuckling a little

"Oh, well thank you, but Beel and I aren't dating" you said, a quiet chuckle escaping you

That made the demon look at you, eyes wide "You're not?"

"No?"

That made the demon laugh, a smile splitting his face "Well, that's news. We all thought you had been dating this entire time! Sorry for the comment, I hope it didn't make you feel awkward"

You waved it off "Ah, no, it's cool"

You continued talking to him for a little while longer, but he soon took his leave. Not long after, Beel came to see you, freshly showered and smiling.

"Hey" he says, leaning down to pick up you bag and throw it over his shoulder as you stand, his food in your hand.

"Hey! Here you go, I made you steamed salmon with grilled vegetables and rice" you said, standing up and handing it to him. He smiled even brighter, and you smile too.

"Thanks, that sounds really good"

And with that the two of you start walking back home, Beel eating his meal while you chatter on about your day. Of course, Beel finishes quickly and starts talking about his too. Not long after he tells you about Asmo and the stunt he pulled in Magical Potions, you remember the comment the demon before made

"Beel, did you know your teammates think were dating?"

That gave the Avatar of Gluttony a pause, as he ponders

"No, but it makes a lot more things make sense..."

"Huh?" that made you pretty confused. They were saying stuff that was pertaining to you supposedly dating?

"Yeah, sometimes they would give suggestions to dinner places, I thought it was weird that they were so fancy, but the food was always good so I thought they were being nice. They would always say that you'd enjoy it too. I guess they were suggesting date spots"

That made your jaw drop. They had been suggesting upscale restaurants for you two? Then it clicked in your head, that Beel had taken you to them also. You guys had been going to date spots.

"Yeah, I guess that would also explain why they were so congratulatory when I mentioned when you and I went to them with you."

You slightly gaped at him, and subconsciously stopped walking. He stopped when you did, turning and looking at you. You both look at eachother, and then you laugh.

"No wonder they thought we were dating"

The two of you continue walking, both of you silent, yet comfortable

Until, Beel spoke up, "What if we did start dating?"

You looked at him, and smiled "Well, I wouldn't mind" you say with soft laugh "It probably wouldn't change much"

"Then, will you go on date with me?" Beel said, softly slipping his hand into yours, and you look up towards the giant, seeing the soft blush on his face

"I'd love too, Beel" you said, squeezing his hand softly, and start to swing your hands lightly, feeling on top of the world.

You were hunting for a certain sleepy demon, dead set on having a talk with him. Apparently, Belphie had taken to telling others that you were dating, without even consulting you about it. You only found out about it when you were talking with a demon you found cute and he brought up how good of a couple you and Belphie were as a couple. The shock was so big you soon ended the conversation and went to hunt down the Avatar of Sloth.

It wasn't that hard to find him, as he was where you expected him to be, in the attic. Unless he's really sleepy, he always trudges up to nap in the attic after school. You typically were nicer about waking him up, but you were filled with vengeance, so you didn't feel bad when you yelled right into his ear.

"BELPHEGOR!!!" you shouted at the top of your lungs into his ear, and he open his eyes with a huff, looking at you sleepily.

"Ugh, really? Can't you be nicer?"

"Belphegor, why are people saying were dating?" you said, standing above him, arms crossed across your chest.

He looks at you, trying to understand what you said, and then fucking smirked. You felt your anger flare up even more.

"Because I wanted too, we basically are anyways, so why not?" he said, shrugging, and rolling over to go back to sleep. You scrubbe your hand over your face, and then snatched him up by his collar.

"Belphie, we are not 'basically dating'! We don't do anything couples do!" you yelled, slightly shaking him.

"Oh yeah? Don't we cuddle a lot? Share clothes? Those are pretty couple like" he says with a smirk

"Because you sneak into my bed and steal my clothes!" you yell at him

"Yet you never do much but roll your eyes in response, if you actually cared, you'd do a lot more. Not to mention, all the things you do just with me? I've never seen you care about the others as much as me. You always make sure they include me, even if I'm asleep. Make sure I have notes even though you know I'll be fine. You do so much. Just for me" the smugness in his voice and condescending smirk makes you angry, enraged even. Yet, even then, you just let go, and roll your eyes. Okay, so maybe you did do a lot for Belphie, and maybe it was because you romantically liked him. Yet, he can't just do that! He never even formally asked you out!

"It doesn't matter what I do or don't do, what matters is that you never even told me! When people are dating, usually all the parties involved know, but you didn't tell me!"

Belphie just smiled, "Well, do you want to date?"

You just huffed and rolled your eyes

"......yeah"

[techs-goggles9902]

Soft!Crosshair and fem!reader please

Maybe with something about his hand tremors?

Why did you wait for me? - Soft!Cross x fem!reader

REQUESTS OPEN FOR ALL LISTED FANDOMS. READ TERMS BEFORE REQUESTING ON MY MASTERLIST

Word count: 767

Warnings: none? Lmk if I missed something

A/N: Hey, I really wanna know who these anons are or if they’re the same person so I can thank you for these requests!!!! Sorry if this feels rushed or anything. I will happily rewrite it next week if requested. I’ve been sick since Sunday and I feel like trash :P

Ever since he came back, he’s been… off. His calloused fingers, his eyes, his voice, all once so familiar, now somewhat foreign.

But he’s your Crosshair, he always comes around. You’re his girl. This is no different. Right? And, he always comes back. It’s only been a few hours since the Marauder landed on Padu’s upper level, your home, at the crack of dawn. You were roused by that familiar chime on your comlink.

What the hell, Hunter, you thought when you woke. Couldn’t he wait a few more hours until your alarm went off?

He couldn’t, which you now know.

You met the batch while they were on leave a few years back, fell in love with that tall, lanky sniper of theirs. Once Order 66 happened, Hunter advised you to come with them since Crosshair wasn’t the man you met anymore.

You found Pabu, where you settled down while the boys didn’t. Could you blame them, though?

“Stop staring at me like that, Cross,” you say as you cook him breakfast in your warm kitchen, feeling his gaze dig holes in the back of your head as he sits at the island.

“I’m sorry… I just can’t…” he pauses, swallowing. “I can’t believe you actually waited for me.”

“How could I not? You’re you. No matter what Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum say,” You turn, about to scrape the eggs onto his plate when you see his watery eyes. Those dark irises that usually pierce into people’s souls now desperately gaze into your own.

“I… I did a lot of bad things. Why do you still love me?” He whispers as you slowly put down the pan of eggs. You step around the island to embrace the sniper, his face buried into your sternum.

“Shhh… You didn’t have a choice, back at Tantiss.” His shaky hands lock around the fabric of your shirt. He doesn’t make any sound, just lets the tears stream down his narrow face, catching on his stubble.

“That doesn’t answer my question, love.”

You sigh, cupping his tear stained face in your soft palms. “I loved you during the war, loved you when you left on missions, I loved you when you joined the Empire. This is no different. You’re mine, I’m yours.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly as he gazes up at you, for once.

“How ‘bout we get some food, real food, in you and then we’ll talk?” You softly ask, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah… Yeah, okay.” He nods and you let him go to slide the eggs onto his plate. Watching him eat, you see the muscles working in his jaw as he chews, his temporalis bulging with each bite.

You haven’t seen him since… Kamino. You begged, pleaded for him to join the batch. You remember how he declined and begged for you to join the Empire, they’ll understand, he said.

He finishes eating and you scoop up his plate, turning away to put it in the sink. When you turn around, he’s gone off to your bedroom. You follow, thinking, I bet he hasn’t slept in a while. I mean, really slept.

He stops in the doorway of your room, turning back to you. He quietly asks, “Can I…”

“You don’t need to ask me for anything. What’s mine is yours.”

You sit against your headboard, his head in your lap. Before, you used to card your hands through his silver curls. Now… You make due with caressing his growing follicles, careful of his lumpy, dented scar.

His hands tremble as they lie against your knee. You tap his fingertip.

“Are you scared?” You ask.

“What? No, why?”

“Your hands.”

“Oh… It just came one day.”

“Tell me… What happened?” You tenderly take his shaking hand in your own and you run your fingers over his too-short nails. Hemlock must’ve had them cut so he wouldn’t claw someone’s eyes out.

Poor Cross… Hemlock’s dying for this.

“You remember the shadows?”

“Mmhmm. The clone assassins.”

“He… Hemlock tried to recondition me into one… I was tested…” He doesn’t have to finish his explanation.

You’re quiet for a beat before you say, “I’m sorry, Cross…”

“Don’t be. You couldn’t do anything.”

“You know, a friend of mine has tremors, too. We can try exercises to… help cope, if you’d like,” you say, pressing your thumb pad down onto his knuckles for a gentle massage.

“I’ll give it a shot, love,” Crosshair says, rolling onto his back to look up at you.

“I love you, Crosshair.”

“I love you too, riduur. You’re my girl.”

Riduur = spouse in Mando’a

Taglist: @will-is-silly @fionajames @sevdidntdie @dangraccoon @skellymom @hellhound5925 LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR TAKEN OFF TAGLIST

Dividers by @ saradika

[stormblessed95]

Hi!

Ok, so I just rewrote everything I wanted to discuss regarding the new video of Jimin working on MUSE, WHO, and SGMB as I felt it’d be easier than sending multiple asks with my questions!

I wanted to know what your thoughts were about the video and album overall, as well as with these parts where Jimin goes into detail a little more about two of the songs’ concepts.

I’m confused if the album as a whole is conceptual, or just the tracks Jimin wrote and WHO is the truth. Is this album about finding love or Jimin’s inspiration and creative process?

And what does that mean in terms for Jimn and Jikook?

I know people (antis) are going on about pronouns, but honestly I already think Jimin is queer or bisexual, so writing a love song about a woman or with female pronouns doesn’t negate that (especially since we’ve seen a version where the lyrics were gender neutral). Until Jimin outright says he has never and will never have romantic feelings towards a man, I’m under the assumption that he may be bisexual (regardless of if he wants a male or female partner).

However Jimin talking about looking for love and not experiencing that, does make me question Jikook if this album is supposed to be speaking from Jimin’s personal experiences and/or thoughts.

I included the parts of dialogue (sorry if I missed something 😅) that lead to these thoughts and/or questions, and it would be wonderful if you could help explain it more, or at least your thoughts on it. I know you’re not Jimin nor did you work with him on MUSE, so obviously you don’t know exactly what it means or conveys.

I’m not taking your word as the truth either, this isn’t the cult lol, just that there’s been many times where your posts help me with the understanding of topics: BTS, Jimin, JK, Jikook, ect!

And of course whatever Jimin says matters more to me!

Thanks Storm! 💜

While working on WHO

JM: This album has a lot of cheerful songs. But I wanted to try a different approach for just the title track. There will be a lot of fun songs.

JM: It was harder to write the lyrics this time. I had to pretend to go through experiences I haven’t had before. I’ll explain it one by one in more detail later.

JB (Jon): *interpreting Jimin’s ideas* I’d like to fall in love. I wanna, I’ll do what it takes to fall in love. I still don’t feel it, so what is my heart waiting for?

JM (Through the Translator): It’s just a bit sentimental, so it doesn’t get too intense like, “Where is she?” It doesn’t get too depressing.

JM: It’s not supposed to be sad or anything.

Translator: He’s not like, not too deep into it. He’s like “this is what I’m feeling right now”.

JM: It’s kind of embarrassing to explain emotions. It feels like someone found my diary.

Translator: Thank you for explaining everything so honestly.

JM: My ears are red. *touches ears*

JM: I’ve poured all my emotions into this, so I was very embarrassed just now. Even though they just wanted to ask about the story I wanted to tell. It’s just, everyone…. *laughs*

JM: Everyone’s just living alone, right? That’s what it is.

Working on SGMB

Producer: If the album is going to be all about expressing the process, we could just go all out conceptual.

Producer: I thought we could do a story with a specific concept, and I thought it’d be great if we chose a name for a band.

Producer: For those who aren’t able to express their love themselves, we’ll express it for them. That’s the kind of band we are. That’s the kind of concept we’ll have.

Loco: I’d never heard of a “smeraldo” before, so I looked it up. It’s a flower, I saw its meaning in the language of flowers. One of the related search terms was BTS. So there was some kind of a connection. So I thought, “Wow, I should come today to hear the explanation”. I found it really interesting, that’s why.

Loco: How do we express the true feelings of someone who couldn’t express it themselves?

Producer: Yeah that’s it.

Loco: This is how we should try to think about it.

JM: I thought of you while making this song….

Loco: It’s so good.

JM: Thank you.

Anon wrote an essay, but I want everyone to know and appreciate how well worded and kind this was. This is a request. An ask. This is a "I have these thoughts, opinions and concerns. I'm really curious about how you also feel about this, could you please let me know. Thanks" and not the rude demands, belligerent asks and the homophobia I got about this same topic from SO MANY OTHERS. So just before anything else, thank you anon, for being a kind human being in interacting with me. I hope you enjoy the random gifs throughout this post 💜

Let's take it bit by bit?

I wanted to know what your thoughts were about the video and album overall, as well as with these parts where Jimin goes into detail a little more about two of the songs’ concepts.

When I made my posts about Muse as an album in its entirety, it was technically before this video, but nothing said in that behinds video changed any of my thoughts. MMM gave us enough of an insight already that nothing else really surprised me from what he said, if that makes sense. Other than seeing the original lyrics were gender neutral. While not a surprise per say, that definitely wasn't indicated anywhere before. Idk if you saw my thoughts, opinions and theories over Muse already, but if not, please read that post here:

My thoughts over Who, which I posted just before answering this:

And then the other main posts I have where I talked about Muse, Rebirth and SMGB can be found in the last 9 posts linked here:

I’m confused if the album as a whole is conceptual, or just the tracks Jimin wrote and WHO is the truth. Is this album about finding love or Jimin’s inspiration and creative process?

Personally I believe that the album as a whole is conceptual. Jimin pretty much stated that it was in MMM. Conceptual doesn't mean falsehoods though either. I mention this in further detail in my muse post above as well. So really, please do go read that. I think that this is more about Jimin's inspiration and creative process. And it's about love. ❤️🥰 These things can coexist!

Pdogg even just recently said: "His previous album was designed to be deeply personal, but the new one is more abstract and isn’t strictly about Jimin alone. The whole thing’s also in line with what Millennials and Gen Z experience when they fall in love."

And what does that mean in terms for Jimn and Jikook?

Short answer: Nothing.

Longer answer: Still nothing. I know it's not really the answer you or probably anyone else or any of the antis who sent me asks about this topic, wanted. But it's the one I've got for you. As much as I thoroughly love and enjoy finding the Jikook coincidences and connections in everything. Istg I promise I do. I can be just as delulu as the rest of them. But it's really important that we ALL remember to see, recognize and enjoy their artistic integrity and messages without thinking it automatically has to do with each other or their relationship (whatever it may be, and yes this is still valid even if they are for sure dating each other romantically too).

Jimin talking about making an album that expresses the desire for love, feelings of crushes, wanting to be with the one, etc... doesn't actually mean that's the state of his current life. It doesn't even technically mean that's what he wants if he is single. I AM NOT SAYING THESE THINGS ARE TRUE OR EVEN WHAT I THINK. Just options, because we don't actually know anything about Jimin's life other than what he chooses to share. Personally, nothing he said in that behinds video, the MMM video or any other behinds content for Muse has made me rethink my Jikook opinions. But thats just me, and I don't blame anyone for ever changing their mind about anything. I just think years upon years of sharing things with us and behavior doesn't change based off him explaining the emotions and concept he is going for while working with other artists on his album.

I know people (antis) are going on about pronouns, but honestly I already think Jimin is queer or bisexual, so writing a love song about a woman or with female pronouns doesn’t negate that (especially since we’ve seen a version where the lyrics were gender neutral). Until Jimin outright says he has never and will never have romantic feelings towards a man, I’m under the assumption that he may be bisexual (regardless of if he wants a male or female partner).

I too, am under this impression and fully agree with you here. It's always nice when I agree with pieces of anon essays 🥰😄💜

However Jimin talking about looking for love and not experiencing that, does make me question Jikook if this album is supposed to be speaking from Jimin’s personal experiences and/or thoughts.

I included the parts of dialogue (sorry if I missed something 😅) that lead to these thoughts and/or questions, and it would be wonderful if you could help explain it more, or at least your thoughts on it. I know you’re not Jimin nor did you work with him on MUSE, so obviously you don’t know exactly what it means or conveys.

I’m not taking your word as the truth either, this isn’t the cult lol, just that there’s been many times where your posts help me with the understanding of topics: BTS, Jimin, JK, Jikook, ect!

Have you been following me for a while because that used to be something I said a lot on this blog. I appreciate you requesting a secondary opinion from someone whose opinions you generally trust (and I'm honored and touched that I am that person, thank you) while still making sure to form your own thoughts and opinions on things as well. Even if they end up different. That's really so important. 💜💜

Now I see where you (general you for the 80 asks I got about this topic) might be like but storm what about *insert all your above quotes here* I'm getting there! Also sorry, I'm not copy and posting all those quotes, this post is long enough as it is, but I super appreciate you taking the time to type them all out for me. I will preemptively add this one from the most recently weverse article though before someone else sends it to me in an ask lol:

"Then it goes into “Be Mine,” which takes the concept one step further, and is about an imaginary relationship. Our plan was to follow that song with the lead single and write it as a serenade, but Jimin was having trouble relating to it. He asked himself if he can ever really love someone, and that question led to the creation of “Who.” The album is about looking for some imaginary woman, but “Who” is about the reality of feeling lonely and melancholy, and asking yourself where the person for you is, which is why we made it the very last track."

From:

So let's just sort of break this down in general and all the quotes together if you don't mind.

1. Irregardless of a relationship with Jungkook, true or not. Jimin is an idol, he isn't going to be announcing a relationship until he is married. And maybe not even then if he keeps it under wraps until he is retired. And if he ever has to announce a relationship, it's never going to be through a love song and explaining he drew inspiration from a partner. It's always going to be "love, what's that?" "Oh we are all always single for now." "Haha oh armys are my girlfriend." And if he ever gets forced into admitting to and claiming a relationship, its going to come with an apology and an ask for understanding. Which really fucking sucks, but that's a different conversation entirely. And it's the reality that idols live with. Take it up with the industry and the fans.

2. If Jimin is queer, like you and I both suspect that he is, he is closeted. And will remain so probably until he is at least retired and/or maybe after that too. Hinting at, making vague remarks about it, etc, is not and never will be coming out. So all those points from #1 above, double it and count it worse for this one. If he is queer, Jimin will be sticking to that "what is love, I'm perpetually single" line all that much harder as a matter of safety probably. I mean and who knows, I'm not Jimin.

3. Jimin is working off a concept, a storyline and a following a major theme and plot that over arches through all his songs in order. He knows the emotions he wants to convey, he knows the general idea. Talking about that is and can be embarrassing. Like someone reading your diary. Lol

4. Taking it back to point 1 again, if Jimin is in a relationship, with regards to being an idol and am ultra world famous one at that, AND adding in the potential possibility of that being a queer relationship.... In what world do you think that the (hypothetical or otherwise) relationship would be one that went through any kind of normal courtship, confession, romance meet cute story? Lol for all we know, his experience with love and relationships look different than the story he was trying to tell, which was much more storybook idealistic. Or for all we know, he is single and just has hook ups and has never been in love. We don't know for sure, and that's okay. We aren't entitled to Jimin's private life.

5. In specific regards to "we are all living alone right" that one feels like explaining his album concept, not his life. To me at least. As was Loco talking about how to explain the feelings of someone who couldn't express it themselves, that was the literal concept of the song for SMGB.

And to conclude all my points above, in my personal OPINIONS, Jimin isn't going to share his love life in any type of way with his fans. He was preemptively apologizing for touching a female dancer to his fans. He knows his fans won't allow him the luxury of love. He knows he isn't allowed the luxury of queerness either, not from his country nor his fans for the most part either. The homophobia I get in my ask box is proof enough. I personally think everything Jimin and JK have said through the years and their actions throughout the years have shown me that there is probably something more leaning towards romantic attraction there, and I feel like it's very probably that they acted upon that. In a conventional way or not, who knows. Only jikook. But I don't think anything from these conversations has proven anything otherwise. But of course, anyone is free to disagree with that and think differently.

Sorry for the essay in response. Hope this all made sense and was clear. And that you found it helpful in some way anon. Thank you again for how you asked your questions and expressed yourself. It was great.

[harrywavycurly]

I just know Eddie told Wayne and Wayne told his bff Jim about this “date” and I just really would love to hear Jim and Reader talking about it💕

Hiii lovey!! I love the idea of Wayne and Jim just being two gossiping besties😂 so I hope you enjoy this convo between Reader and Jim💖

*reminder I never mention what Jim’s relationship is to you in this series he can be your dad or just someone you grew up with and love like a father or he can just be whatever you want/need him to be*

-find all things Trouble Next Door here✨

“So…anything new going on with you?” “Not really…can I snag a beer?” “Yeah yeah help yourself….so..really there’s nothing going on with you that…you wanna talk about?” “If you want to know something just ask…you’re horrible at playing dumb.” “Wayne told me Eddie asked you on a date.” “It’s not a real date.” “Not a real date? What does that even mean?” “It means it’s like…he wants it to be a practice date.” “Do…you…want it to be a practice date?” “Jim be real…it’s Eddie.” “So? I mean…you’ve known him pretty much your whole life…I’m shocked you two haven’t-” “he’s my bestfriend in the entire world…I can’t ever risk losing him…it would…I just can’t.” “Can’t lose him or can’t picture yourself dating him?” “Uhm…both?” “Really?…huh…well you know I just want you to be happy.” “I know…I’ve just…i don’t know? I’ve never thought about Eddie in any other way than just…my other half?” “That’s a term usually used by people in love…” “I love him.” “Yeah but just as friends right?…you’re not in love with him?” “I…why are you asking me this? I just…no…I don’t…I don’t know.” “Hey hey…it’s okay I’m sorry…let’s just sit on the couch and watch shitty television and have a few beers okay?” “Yeah…that sounds good…can we order pizza?” “Whatever you want kid…but is it okay if I just say something really quick?” “Sure…” “Eddie is a good guy…I’ve seen how he looks at you…your happiness comes first…always…so ya know I uhm…I’d approve of you…dating him.” “Thanks Jim…”

[carniferous]

okay hello i’ve come to offer a vague concept ❤️🤲 the first thing that came into my mind is like being in a car. and something being wrong w the car. which sounds so stupid but is hopefully vague enough?? also idk if i’m meant to specify a ship but (and you probs already know what i’m gonna say) ur bartylus genuinely changed my life and it’s always on my mind and im obsessed w it forever and ever and would die if you ever wrote them again (but also like. no pressure. i don’t wanna try and tie you down to one specific pathway) ANYWAY i hope this is vague enough but also not too vague that you’re just staring at me blankly rn… icl babe u really didn’t set any parameters so i’m kinda trying to spear fish in the dark here but im gonna stop talking now…. eagerly (but patiently!!) awaiting ur response <33

LMAO NOOO thank you so much this is exactly the level of vagueness i wanted!!! i simply need to let things cook in my beautiful mind palace before i can write + vague concepts work best for that

anyway i tried to do it justice for u. it's more barty character study than bartylus sorry but. also it's compeltely unedited!! do with that what you will xoxo

“I knew it,” Regulus murmured, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. He was slumped down in his seat, the lines of his face stark in the pale moonlight. The motorway stretched out empty and endless before them. 

Barty clenched his jaw and turned the key in the ignition once more. The engine sputtered loudly, just enough to give him some small shred of hope, before it promptly died for the fifth time. 

“Dammit,” he hissed, thumping his hand against the steering wheel. He turned to Regulus, “What?”

Regulus lowered his hand and glared fiercely. “I knew I was going to die in this metal box the moment you persuaded me to get in.”

“And yet, you still let me persuade you.”

“Barty.”

“What?” Barty grinned. “You’re not going to die, Regulus. Cars are only dangerous when they’re moving.”

Regulus scoffed. He looked about five minutes away from having a conniption—which meant that Barty had about three minutes of continuing to fuck with him before he got properly angry. His hands were clenched in the fabric of his trousers, and when he turned his face towards the window, Barty could glimpse the deep shadows under his eyes as they appeared under the light. 

He felt his heart soften, just a tad. 

“I have a plan,” Barty said.

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back that they disappeared into his skull: “Oh, joy. Another plan.”

“They’ve gotten us this far, haven’t they?” 

“Yes, stranded on the side of the road with you,” muttered Regulus. “Exactly where I want all my plans to lead me.”

At that, Barty felt a strange, wild sort of affection swell up within him. He wanted to lean over and bite the nape of Regulus’s neck hard enough to draw blood, wanted to crowd him against the door until all that bluster and exasperation fell away. But there would be time for that.

“Don’t you want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Regulus said sullenly. “I want—”

He stopped. Barty’s grin abruptly fell away. He reached over and cradled the back of Regulus’s head, firmly enough that he had no choice but to face him. Regulus kept his eyes downcast, an unhappy twist to his mouth, a sickly tinge to his face that the low light couldn’t hide. 

“Hey,” Barty said, and he curled his hand into a fist in Regulus’s hair. “Look at me.”

Regulus’s gaze flickered up.

He was a living bruise, a walking heartache. Two weeks ago, Barty had looked at him as they packed their things for the end of term, and he’d known that Regulus wouldn’t survive another summer in that house—not as himself, anyway. He knew it the way Sirius must have, before he left, and he understood. Better than he’d like to admit. Sometimes it was easier to pack your bags than to watch someone like Regulus tread water and insist that they weren’t moments away from sinking. 

In that respect, though, Barty was different. He didn’t care what Regulus wanted. He wasn’t going to leave him to drown. 

Besides. Barty was fed up, himself.

When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, and Regulus listened with wide, unblinking eyes: “We’re not going home. Do you understand? There’s nothing back there. Nothing. Forget it, Regulus.”

A beat of silence. Barty’s grip loosened, he made to pull back, and then—

“What about your mother?” Regulus asked with a horrible little glint in his gaze. 

“What about her?” Barty replied without missing a beat.

Regulus blinked. Barty almost laughed at him. Could have, at the idea that Regulus thought he’d trapped him with that. His mother, who’d wanted Berty out of that house perhaps even more than he himself did. Regulus could never understand that.

What he could understand, though, was the terrifying, exhilarating sensation of freedom. Of the surprising vastness of your own mind when it was vacant of everyone but yourself. Of sitting in a car stranded on the side of the road and becoming aware of your own mortality. Death was suddenly an end to something real and full of potential. 

After what felt like an eternity, Regulus asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I turn seventeen in five hours,” Barty said. “Once midnight hits, the Trace will disappear. I’ll fix the car then.”

“You don’t know how to fix it.”

“At least I know it’s called a car and not a ‘metal box.’”

“You want us to spend five hours in this thing?” Regulus said, as though catching up with his own disbelief.

“Technically, seven hours,” said Barty. “We still have to make it to Bath. And then, once we pick up the twins…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Barty shrugged—a loose, slouching thing. He noticed Regulus’s eyes track the motion with nothing short of predatory glee. “Orgy in the metal box?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” Barry cajoled, grinning from ear to ear. “Why else would you run away with me?”

There was a long moment of silence, in which Regulus gazed, baleful and petulant, out at the road in front of them and Barty gazed at him. Already, he was more animated, more tetchy, more acerbic than he’d been just days ago. The cobwebs slowly clearing from his eyes.

Sometimes, Barty recognized Regulus like the slant of himself in a shard of glass. But other times, Regulus was just very beautiful. Barty wondered if there an element of vanity in wanting him, to the prideful joy he got out of fucking him out of his own head. The idea that he could press Regulus down hard enough to mold him back into himself. 

On very rare occasions, he wondered if he was like his father. If the only love he knew was what he learned from the voice in his head as it puppeted his limbs about. If that presence was more himself than he was. A normal person would look at it with revulsion, would see complete and total control as a firsthand abomination.

But it was because Barty knew the abomination firsthand that he knew also the complete, total, clean satisfaction of such control.

“You were hardly the first to ask,” Regulus said mildly.

Even in the darkness, Barty could see the flush travel down his neck. He grinned and, without another word, reached over and unhooked Regulus’s seatbelt.

“I didn’t ask,” he replied, just as mild.