#but i definitely want to get back to writing them

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus just pulled off the biggest whiff in webtoon history.

I promised I would choose one of two headlines and of course, this is the one we wound up with. But should we really be surprised? Rachel herself seemed to be telling on herself down to the minutes leading up to the finale, fully confirming to us that yes, she's been writing this comic at the last minute, by the seat of her pants, for ages now.

(that second one was literally posted TWENTY FUCKING MINUTES BEFORE THE COMIC UPDATED.)

Welp, let's get into it. Possibly the last essay I'll ever write about this dumpster fire of a comic (but probably not, let's be real LOL)

CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND FASTPASS SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES FINALE AHEAD!

Holy crap, where to even start with this. I knew it was going to be bad. I knew it was going to be rushed. I knew it wasn't ever going to live up to what I had hoped it would be years ago when I was still a diehard fan.

But I didn't think it was going to fall quite this hard. Despite bracing myself for the worst, Rachel has once again let my expectations down through a final display of explosive mediocrity and disappointment.

Yes, the episode is called "You're Welcome", and yes, that instant "ick" you're feeling is the exact same as what we're all feeling. This title plays into the dialogue later, but what a shitty, lowkey mean-spirited title for the series finale.

Now, before we get into the actual episode, the WT ads for this are just... so desperate and misleading.

They are trying SO HARD to hype up something that isn't there, and at the last minute to boot, because Rachel definitely hadn't written any of this ahead of time.

First off, the bit about the gods being in "eternal chaos" of course isn't a stake worth worrying over because Gaia literally does away with Ouranos in the first 5 panels.

Did you really think I was joking about that 5 panels thing?

That's it. That's the death of Ouranos. As mysteriously and quickly as he arrived, he was gone, after Gaia ripped out of him what appeared to be some purple sunny side up - but it's actually, in fact, Apollo.

And that's when we start to get some of the worst dialogue I've ever seen throughout LO. Remember when I said LO's dialogue was like Shenmue 3? Welp, the finale decided to continue that tradition and further fuel the suspicion that this entire thing was written by ChatGPT.

Oh, by the way, that "thank you, ma'am" was Artemis' first and last line of the episode. So once again, just like in Episode 248, we're completely robbed of her reaction to Apollo being a rapist piece of shit and the character development she could have had as a supporting character. The women in this "feminist retelling" really couldn't be more half-baked.

Gaia stumbles upon Persephone, and I'm not even gonna fucking bother showing the panels where Gaia says it's time to "make things right" because they literally don't matter. Why don't they matter? Because Rachel just had to get in one more pointless time skip.

We're shown a sequence of pointless images that I'm not gonna show as I don't want to waste my image limit on them, depicting Hades having a sad day because his small wife isn't with him and oh nooo what could have happened?? Did Persephone finally divorce him ??

Nah, we couldn't possibly have an actually happy ending in this comic. Instead we get a completely pointless phone conversation between Hades and Hecate-

Not only is the grammar particularly bad in this episode, but the actual script-writing is atrocious. We literally did not need this phone conversation to happen because-

-we're cutting BACK TO THE PRESENT THAT WE JUST CUT AWAY FROM FOR A 3 MONTH TIME SKIP. FOR NO REASON BESIDES SHOWING HADES BE SAD OVER SOMETHING THAT ACTUALLY ISN'T THAT BIG A DEAL, AS YOU'RE ABOUT TO SEE.

I- I LITERALLY HAVE NO WORDS. I HAVE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS. ALL I CAN HEAR IN MY BRAIN IS THE LEGEND OF ZELDA ITEM GET MUSIC-

-BECAUSE THIS WHOLE THING SUDDENLY SOUNDS LIKE SOME CONTRIVED FETCH QUEST. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HADES AND PERSEPHONE HAVE PROVEN 'TRUE LOVE' IS REAL? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVEN'T USED 'LOVE' AS A FORCE FOR DESTRUCTION?? ARE WE FORGETTING THAT HADES MUTILATED A GUY IN THE NAME OF 'LOVE'? THAT PERSEPHONE LITERALLY INVADED THE HOME OF HADES' CANONICAL FIRST WIFE BECAUSE SHE FELT MILDLY THREATENED BY HER?

This whole concept of "true love" that Rachel is trying to convey feels so juvenile especially for a series that has sold itself as being mature and thought-provoking and progressive.

HAHAHA SO FUNNYYYYYYY why does Rachel write like this. this is, at best, the writing of a 13 year old on fanfiction.net, which I SHOULD KNOW, because I WAS ONE OF THEM. BUT I'M 28 NOW AND RACHEL HAS ANOTHER 10 YEARS ON ME.

Okay, this is the part where I'm CONVINCED Rachel either just mashed this into the episode in the MINUTES leading up to its release, or she used ChatGPT or something. Because NONE of this dialogue makes any sense. Beyond how stilted and lifeless it is (seriously, this dialogue reads like something from Empress Theresa) Gaia is clearly meant to 'replace' Erebus here which I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO EVEN EXPLAIN IS SO FUCKING DUMB, but ALSO what is even Persephone trying to communicate here? "That is true, but it was a deal I was willing to make and ties me to the Underworld. Please don't change me." What? Gaia hasn't even insinuated that she's going to do anything to Persephone, why is Persephone immediately jumping to this conclusion? What does 'changing' her mean? Is she asking Gaia not to force her to sacrifice something (which she never did)? Or is she asking Gaia not to strip her of her Underworld status? Because again, why is that even something Gaia would do?

Maybe this is harsh but I'm pretty sure even Empress Theresa is more coherent than this, what in the flying fuck is Gaia talking about?

"I can just see the potential for conflict! To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres." Like... okay, first of all, that second sentence isn't even a complete sentence, it's a dependent clause left hanging, but also what the fuck does this MEAN. Is she EXCITED for the conflict but then contradicting herself by saying she wants to relieve Persephone of that conflict? Or is she saying she can see the conflict it would cause for Persephone to have to perform duties in both realms and trying to insinuate that she's going to relieve her of those complications?

Here's what I think happened - I think that second 'sentence' wasn't supposed to be a sentence, but the start of the sentence to the next panel-

So with that theory in mind, the sentence becomes, "To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres, you are to spend three months in the Mortal Realm to do spring and the rest of the year in the Underworld. That seems fair to me."

It's still a very poorly written line of dialogue, but at least with that fix in mind it makes sense. But man, you can really fucking tell this episode was submitted at the last minute because that's a serious syntax error that should NOT have happened in this two-time-Eisner-winning comic.

Errors aside, it's clear that Rachel is following through on having Persephone spend only three months in the Mortal Realm, rather than the traditional six. There ARE other translations that have that number closer to four, but those four are the time she spends in the UNDERWORLD, meaning she's always spending either equal or MORE time in the Mortal Realm. Of course, Rachel doesn't want her self-insert small wife power fantasy to actually have to be separated from Hades despite this being a retelling of The Abduction of Persephone, so instead of her spending three months in the Underworld, she's now spending them in the Mortal Realm, literally doubling the MINIMUM amount of time (four months) she was originally meant to reside in the Underworld.

But oh no, apparently those three months are STILL NOT SHORT ENOUGH FOR PERSEPHONE-

Of course, Rachel "Retcon" Smythe had to have her cake and eat it too. I always worried something like this was a possibility, but I never thought she would actually prove me right - not only is Persephone only separated from Hades for three months out of the year, but actually he can visit her any time he wants to, so really, they're not separating at all.

I think Rachel needs to look up "reunion" in the dictionary, because if you can visit each other any time, then that means the 'reunions' are no longer special occasions. This completely removes any semblance of depth or meaning from all of the storytelling leading up to this, all of it with the expectation that this was a retelling of the Abduction of Persephone, because that's what Rachel said it was going to be. At this point it's safe to say that Rachel has zero business attempting to "retell" mythological stories, because she doesn't even seem to grasp the concept of why they were written the way they were to begin with. Either that, or she really just doesn't care, and the only reason for making LO a Greek myth comic at all was to propel her career.

This also brings me back to those promotional ads, the other one that posed the question, "Will sacrifice be enough to bring these two back together?"

This is stating the obvious, but I need to make it perfectly clear - Hades and Persephone have never sacrificed a single thing. The only thing they could POSSIBLY quantify as a "sacrifice" is "not being tied at the hip for a few hours", because even Persephone going on the equivalent of a work trip next door is apparently enough to make Hades sad as we saw in the 3 month time skip panels. Why is Hades so sad and lonely if he can visit her any time? Why is he acting like he hasn't seen her in years when he's actually on his way to reunite with her? Why is Hecate calling to ask him if he's "okay" as if he JUST got separated from her, but actually he's about to literally go to the Mortal Realm to reunite with her?

Hades hasn't 'sacrificed' a damn thing, neither has Persephone. They've both always gotten exactly what they wanted, even at the cost of breaking the story's own established rules. Their 'sacrifice' is equivalent to what billionaires think are 'sacrifices' when they can't buy another yacht or go on that third overseas vacation for the month.

And even outside of this episode, when have these two ever sacrificed anything?

I've tried so hard to think of what sacrifices have been made by the characters within LO, and I genuinely can only think of one - and that was when Artemis chose to go to the Mortal Realm with Persephone instead of staying with her family in Olympus. That was a genuine, selfless sacrifice, made by a character who has been shelved in favor of focusing on the self-centered pink and blue airheads.

Being forced to be apart for a couple days to do the equivalent of a day job and whining about it the whole time is not a 'sacrifice'. Neither of these characters have ever sacrificed anything, they just feel like sacrifices because they have the integrity and empathy of soggy cardboard.

sigh Anyways, we're back in the present and Hades and Persephone immediately decide they're gonna have sex because ofc, and then we get this gem of a panel-

MMMMMM

FUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY JOKE

For some reason it's just a common thing for people to just be in Hades' home, and they can't seem to get any privacy as a result of this, but I digress. Turns out they still need to have that coronation for Persephone.

There is... so much wrong in these three panels.

First, to state the immediate issues - why the fuck are they mentioning Apollo at Persephone's coronation? Like first of all, no shit Apollo isn't gonna be there, but also, if this is supposed to be an event for and about Persephone becoming Queen of the Underworld, then why in the WORLD is Apollo even being mentioned? This is supposed to be a "feminist retelling" where the victims are empowered and heal from their trauma, but LO once again can't try to show any sort of positive growth for the victims without bringing up the assaulters and giving them screen time. It just goes to show that Rachel's idea of "healing" is purely rooted in the revenge, and not the growth. It's a very high schooler approach to this subject, hellbent on showcasing how all the meanies from the past are losers now and life just sucked for them forever, but inadvertently proving its own point that the victims haven't and can't move on because the narrative is spending so much time on caring what's going on with the abusers. It's the "I don't care! Look at how little I care! I'll prove it to you by putting in the effort of showing you how little I care!" approach, it doesn't really feel like moving on.

It's not about how Persephone and his other victims could have grown and healed, no, Rachel always needs to highlight just how much worse the bullies and haters and abusers are doing to make the victims seem like they've healed by comparison. Don't get me wrong, I can understand wanting to showcase the downfall of a character like Apollo, but this just... isn't the right context for that? Because it's once again taking attention away from the victim to focus on the abuser. It's once again spending screentime on the voices of the oppressors rather than the oppressed.

And speaking of, what the fuck is this punishment even? I knew Rachel wasn't gonna be able to resolve this plotline properly, she never had the capability to, but ... community service? Are you fucking for real? What is this even a punishment for even? Was this EXCLUSIVELY the SA, or does this ALSO include his attempts to overthrow Zeus by poisoning him, nearly killing Daphne, Eris, Eros and Psyche, trapping Eros and Psyche in an enchanted basement, and framing his father's 'death' on his half-sister? Because if so, how in the world is anyone content with community service? He hasn't even been turned into a mortal, HE'S STILL A GOD, so what's to stop him from going "WE'LL MEET AGAIN, SPIDERMAN" and trying something else? How is this a reasonable resolution in ANY context?

This is why I talked at length about what an issue it was to hide what Apollo really admitted to. Because now we really don't know what exactly he confessed to, and thus we can never really see the point of views of the victims outside of just Persephone - and we still don't even get Persephone's, because she just walks away from him and then he gets eaten by Ouranos and next we see of him is him doing community service! Once again, any emotional development that could be given to Persephone and the other victims is stripped away to make room for the point of views of the oppressive men. In this, the two-time-Eisner-winning "feminist comic" that is LO.

And that brings us to the "where are they now" segment. Yes, as we all feared, there's a "where are they now" segment, and it's as rushed and underwhelming as we ought to have expected it to be.

There is just... so much to unpack here, and yes, all of it is delivered in the dumbest way possible that only raises more questions than answers.

So Rhea and Metis are just back and we're not gonna talk about the implications of them being alive again?

Dionysus is a 3 month year old in the body of a teenager / young adult, and his mom is just alive now because Hades conveniently got his hands on more ambrosia and brought her back to life offscreen? But somehow Triptomelus and Hedone are still child-sized relative to their ages?

How did they 'heal Zeus'? And why is he so content with losing his power as King and Apollo being sentenced to community service after making an attempt on his life? How does he feel about the letter that Hera gave him? Did he even read it?

Where the fuck is Hebe in all of this? Is she okay? Do people still think it was her who put Zeus in a coma? Or did Apollo confess to that, too?

You're telling me Hera and Echo are just in a relationship now despite the fact that Hera is literally racist towards nymphs and there is ZERO reason for them to have a relationship in the comic beyond the fans making gratuitous headcanons out of it? How is Rachel, a bisexual woman, so bad at writing actual lesbian relationships and giving them the same amount of attention as the heterocis ones without shoving them into the background as props for insincere queer rep? And what about Hera herself? How did she overcome her role as the Goddess of Marriage to finally divorce Zeus?

"Ares is still a dog!" Haha! Ares is still a Persephone simp! Happy end!

Why is Eros just standing there smiling at the camera struggling to be seen past Hedone who's just floating right in front of him? You're telling me there wasn't a better place to put her out of that entire panel?

"Hades and Thanatos have been making more time for each other. Sometimes they even have a conversation." I'm sorry, is this supposed to be funny? The man abused Thanatos for years, treated him as just a lowly employee when he was literally his adopted son, and now you're trying to play it off as a joke that they're "making more time for each other"? What the fuck is this?

TGOEM disbanded? Why? What about the women who were genuinely a part of it?

Also, Artemis and Selene are just good friends now because reasons? Because they're both affiliated with the moon, I guess? Why is Selene even in this comic-

"They are still looking for Kassandra". Who? And why? This feels like such a last minute addition to acknowledge a character that the comic spent WEEKS foreshadowing only to have her finally appear as a pointless McGuffin, but it's so last minute that it does nothing. I'm assuming it's Eros and Psyche looking for her, but like... why can't they find her? They're gods, tracking down one mortal shouldn't be that difficult LOL ???

And also, where the fuck is Leto?? You're telling me she was an accessory - maybe manipulating Apollo, maybe not - but we don't see what happened to her? Is she just back to being a social outcast then? jesus christ this comic isn't finished-

Kassandra is where the "where are they now" sequence ends, and we're treated to one final horribly written dialogue scene between Hades and Persephone, where they tell each other how much they love each other in a desperate attempt to convince the audience that this is, in fact, a romance.

There's this thing in romances called chemistry, and if you're good at writing it, you shouldn't have to write dialogue like this. You should be able to see how much the characters love each other through their actions, through their small behaviors around each other. It's not always about what they say out loud, it's about what they don't have to say, because when two people really share that close of a bond based on love and trust and chemistry, words often aren't necessary.

Hades and Persephone do not have that chemistry. It has been apparent for years now, but this final exchange really is the nail in the coffin. There are no microexpressions or subtle emotions, no subtlety in their word choice, and nothing unique setting their voices apart. It's all just "wow thank you for being such a wonderful amazing partner, you are amazing and I love you" word salad that has to do all the heavy lifting for the completely non-existent chemistry that's been at its absolute worst throughout this entire season.

And worst of all, despite this story trying so hard to be focused around Persephone, around her story, her trauma and her healing, her voice... it's still all just about Hades. In the end, she's thanking Hades, and forcing him to say "you're welcome". All of it is trying so hard to convince us that Hades has been a positive addition to her life, that she 'owes' so much to him, but we've obviously seen plenty throughout the comic that begs to differ. And even if he were a better person than he is, it still doesn't change the fact that once again, the men are being held up above the women, with the women being grateful to the men who choose them. LO can try its hardest to convince people that it's feminist, but it is, at best, reinforcing the very same structures of the patriarchal system that it claims to despise and rebel against.

We do get one line from Hades acknowledging Persephone's part in the relationship-

-and it falls so fucking flat because it's still about him and what she does for him, and because nothing about their relationship was built on any sort of organic chemistry. There was a lot more chemistry back in S1, but it was still predicated on Hades lusting after a vulnerable 19 year old girl.

Yep, and that's it. That's the end.

Except it isn't because Rachel wanted to try and be smart by including an 'epilogue' that's really just stretching the episode out pointlessly for another few panels. And of course, we had to get another time skip, just a final dose of salt in the wound, this time to years ahead when we inevitably had to reconnect with Persephone and Hades in the future after Melinoe was born.

To recap, Melinoe doesn't remember... because Hades had Morpheus erase her memories.

This plotline has really started to give me the ick because it actually feels very familiar. Bear with me here, because I'm gonna go on a bit of a tangent about my own original work, but it's because I wrote a plotline exactly like this years ago.

There's this... turning point, in Time Gate: Reaper, when the main character Uzuki is kidnapped by a Reaper (see: undead) who wants to experiment on her in the hopes that he can somehow gain her abilities to bond her soul with others (which later allows her to literally possess people after she becomes a Reaper herself). Mitsuhiro, the male deuteragonist who kickstarts the plot by telling Uzuki she's got a limited amount of time left to live (which he knows thanks to his magical death timers that mark themselves on his skin), feels an immense amount of guilt after finding out she was kidnapped by the Reapers (at this point she's been gone for three months), as they were originally after him; he worries that she was made a target simply due to him associating himself with her, and vows to rescue her.

With the help of some other spunky teenagers and anime trope characters, Mitsuhiro does eventually rescue Uzuki - but for the three months she had been gone, she had been tortured, abused, and experimented on, causing her mind to split and for her to lose any sense of awareness of who Mitsuhiro or her other friends were. She was no longer herself after the hell she had been through.

Mitsuhiro's solution to this is to have Springlock - another Reaper with motivations that are not yet clear to the cast - erase her memory. This is not a light decision that comes without consequences - for the remaining duration of the story, Uzuki is plagued by night terrors and panic attacks, unable to really remember what happened to her aside from whatever brief flashbacks her brain recalls in its haze of memory loss. She is traumatized, both physically and mentally. She has lost three months of her life and memories, and doesn't know how to explain why she's covered in scars that are still healing, why she's missing organs, why she's now blind in one eye, and why the sound of scraping metal and ticking clocks gives her panic attacks. Mitsuhiro has convinced her friends that she's suffering from memory loss due to trauma, but only he knows the truth that he forcefully took her memories away from her, without her consent. This was not the right choice to make. It was not noble of him, it was not a grand gesture of love, he made a decision on her behalf without her consent that has now resulted in her becoming a nervous wreck. Sure, she still would have had PTSD if she remembered what happened, but at least she would know why and could then seek adequate help. Without those memories, she has nowhere to begin to heal. And so we see the consequences of this throughout [AFTERBIRTH] and even the upcoming Thread of Fate. It is a long-term problem that is not going to be solved overnight, especially not with Mitsuhiro withholding information from her.

Reading about Melinoe having dreams about her experiences trapped in Tartarus with Kronos ... it felt familiar enough that I had to talk about why the insinuations of this are so fucked up. I know there are people who are gonna handwave it away as "she's just a kid", "these are gods so what does it matter", etc. but ... it just feels like such an oversight to have Hades effectively erase her memory of her trauma and then hint at them still being present in her mind through her dreams. She did not ask for that. And the fact that she's now dreaming about it all does not bode well. But we're supposed to think Hades made the correct choice, regardless.

But none of this is effectively expanded on or explained, because we get one final scene of Melinoe and Demeter visiting Persephone, who has just given birth to... Makaria?

So it turns out Persephone and Hades are just able to have biological children now. Don't know why, but of course they both look exactly like Hades.

What I was really confused by though is the fact that it's Makaria and not Brimos. Do you remember Brimos? The child that was foreshadowed in Hades' original fantasy dream sequence about his future children about Persephone?

Either Rachel completely forgot about him, or she saw all the criticism over the fact that Brimos isn't a confirmed child of Hades and Persephone (rather, an epithet that can apply to basically any Underworld god including Persephone and Hades) and that her "research" was dependent on a book she read when she was 13 and decided to axe that. But she went to the effort of establishing that all the dreams Hades had were , in fact, canon visions of the future, so good job Rachel, you created yet another plothole on top of the hundreds of others.

And that's where the series ends, on a final nuclear-family-photo of Persephone, Hades, Melinoe, and Makaria. Of course, Dionysus and Thanatos aren't present in this shot because this is Lore Olympus and only biological children count /hj

Why Rachel couldn't move the "the end" portion to THIS part, I don't know, but I'm also expecting way too much of the person who finished this 20 minutes before it was due.

So that's it. Six years and that's what we get. I didn't expect much, but I was still incredibly disappointed, as were many others who walked away from this dazed and confused. Maybe it's all the "haters" deserve at this point. But what of the fans? While many of them are celebrating this ending at best and tolerating it at worst, I can't help but think of the fans of this comic who hung on for so long in the hopes it would "pay off", just for it to go out as gloriously as a wet fart.

As for me, I have such mixed feelings about Lore Olympus ending, but none of them pertain to the comic itself. Most of what I'll miss from this comic isn't the comic itself, but the people who have made reading it every week so fun, the artists and writers who have enriched the content with their own interpretations of what could have been, and the experiences of being part of such an amazing community made up of people who are as long-term-obsessed about this piece of media as I am.

I get people who ask me a lot if it's "worth it" to be so engrossed in the LO slander, who assume that I'm going to "regret" ever being a part of it all... but from where I'm standing right now, I couldn't ask for a better view.

Even if I didn't love every minute of it, everything I have here I owe to this comic. This stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing, pile of shit comic.

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Era: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[zerokaram]

college basketball!abby x reader

synopsis: you're suddenly seeing abby, your best friend since your childhood, in a new lens. is it her arms? her strength? her drive? or the way she refuses to talk to, or even look at any other girl but you?

a/n: these are formatted like headcannons + scenarios to match them! not necessarily like a fic unfortunately. but if you guys would want that, i'd be glad to write something along those lines. enjoy!

at first, it was just something small. something so, so extremely small. maybe sometimes, she would look a little too good after practice. the way the wisps of her hair would stray out of her braid, her arms glistening in sweat and her shirt practically see-through from how hard she worked in the gym prior to her practice. or maybe it was the way she constantly towered over you, how she looked down at you when you two spoke, or how her arms carried everything and anything effortlessly, toned and muscular.

you don't know if you were just fucking imagining it or what, but holy, fucking, shit.

was it just your brain fucking with you? maybe you were just desperate or something?

you didn't know. but you were embarrassed to admit the fact that you were completely, and utterly infatuated with your 100% platonic best friend that you definitely should not be and definitely aren't swooning over. she was just a friend, and for gods sake, your best friend at that.

she just came home to your dorm, which she's been staying at for a few weeks now, covered in sweat. her arm and leg muscles practically bulging from her jersey, about to burst the fabric at their seams with only that and a compression shirt under it, paired with shorts that you've probably borrowed from her, her hair in a messy braid; stray strands sticking to her face.

anyone would be sensible enough to drool at this shit. it wasn't your fault that you had a hot best friend. right? i mean- what?

okay, but you couldn't help it that she had really nice arms. really defined, muscular, beefy, strong, capable, sporty, hot, sexy arms. it was just a general thing. it definitely couldn't just be you. this is totally fucking normal for a 100% platonic relationship. like, yeah. this is literally just normal. its literally just normal.

soon, your stares burned into her back. she could practically feel the way your eyes lingered from her face, trailing to her arms, and all the way down to her thighs. turning around to face you, she inquires cluelessly as if she didn't plan this whole scenario out on purpose. "baby, you okay? you look...dazed or something." she says, sneaking in a smile once she turns around again to get herself a glass of water.

baby. baby? did you hear that right?

you probably heard it wrong. you snicker, "oh, yeah. yeah i'm..fine."

one of abby's big games were coming up. only one more game, and it would mean that her and her team finally won the whole season. usually, she'd be pumped to finally get to train for the moment she's been dreaming of since the season started, but something's been conflicting her. a certain someone. she's had a crush on you for at least 5 years now, but the crush has been at it's all time high ever since you've started wearing her jerseys, her hoodies, and her clothes this past semester. god, fuck it. why not offer for you to do it again?

lounging on abby's couch in nothing but her hoodie and some boxers of hers that you found lying on your side of the bed from when you slept over, you held your phone in your right hand, scrolling through tiktok, while you held a cup of coffee in the other. abby (very willingly) agreed to let you sleep over at her place for as many nights as you wanted, since your roommates aggravatingly threw parties all day and night long.

you were interrupted by the door abruptly creaking open, abby stepping through the door, still in her basketball gear. she set her things down onto the kitchen counter, taking her hoodie off, revealing a more comfortable shirt under. she joins you on the couch; lying on her stomach, making a groaning noise. "shit..arms fuckin' hurt." she says, muffled whines getting silenced by the pillow she stuffed her head in.

you chuckle at her childishness. she's kinda always been like that, hasn't she? "too bad." you say, to which she frowns with a slight pout, looking up at you, wanting you to change your answer. you have no choice but to oblige. "-whatever. what can i do to help?" you ask in a playful tone, flashing her a smile.

she gets up from her position almost immediately, sprinting to her bedroom and grabbing her jersey before quickly running back to the living room and throwing the jersey in your face as if she planned this. "wear this to my next game." she says in a half-laughing, cocky way. you desperately pry the piece of fabric off of your face, trying to process what just happened. "no fuckin' way abs." you say, teasing her. you take a look at the shirt. it had 22 on the front, with ‘anderson’ printed on the back.

she frowns, sighing as she flops next to you, snaking her arms around you and stuffing her face in your shirt (in a definitely 100% platonic way). "c'mon." she says, "need someone to cheer f'me. js' wanna see my girl cheer for me. it would make me so happy."

you chuckle at 'my girl', "abs. this isn't helping with the rumors about us."

she accidentally blurts out, "don't fuckin' want it to."

...what?

before she knows it, and before you two could even talk about what she just said to you a few days before, it was finally game day. screams and cheers of girls who came just to see abby stretched from one part of the arena to another, echoing in your eardrums. you said you weren’t going to, but of course you wore her fucking jersey anyway.

abby looked into the crowd of people, searching for you desperately. she couldn’t play without you watching :’((.

about to give up on finding you, she feels two hands come around the side of her torso, hugging her from behind. she turns around to see you. wearing her jersey.

“you better win, i’m not parading your name on me for nothing.” you say sarcastically.

[seawing-vibes]

Decided to fill out a template from @/falling-skyzz I feel normal about . The dragons ! List of characters & design & dynamic thoughts under the cut <3

Also If anyone else fills out thus template feel free to send me the post,, I would love to see other people filling this out!!! I love templates !!

Secretkeeper & Moon • I understand theres a lot of reasonable hate for Secretkeeper but!!! I find her & moon to be a very fascinating pair! To make a long ass thought short, I think Secretkeeper is the embodiment of “product of her environment & deeply traumatize & projecting”. I think she genuinely really loves moon but obviously expresses that through being “”protective””. But I think shes genuinely a character with a capacity for change & realizing the autonomy Moon has over her own powers. Also from the perspective of Moon I think her arc around her relationship with her mom could be really interesting, especially as Secretkeepers authority becomes challenged in Moons life & she has to confront the bullshit her mother has put her through. Overall very very interesting pair I think about them a lot.

Design Note: Secretkeeper is duller in color than Moon & has less stars due to lack of moon light on the island! Also the scales around her mouth are almost completely black, making her mouth barely visible, giving her the name “Secretkeeper” as she “has no mouth to tell others secrets.”

Tsunami & Starflight • Just one of my fav siblings! This specific illustration is from the Arena Scene in Dragonet Prophesy! I really really love Tsu & Starflights dynamic of looking up to eachother & their development together just. So neat!

Design Note: Starflight has very few constellation marks in this illustration as he hasnt spent much time under moonlight quite yet!

Shark & Abalone • One of my more out-there ships! I based this on the thought that Shark was once close with Abalone (cough. Husbands.) and that relates to why he was willing to give Tortoise a lunch-break from watching the eggs. He already saw someone close to him die from being overworked to watch the clutch, he didn’t want to watch another dragon die from his sisters selfishness. I could write an essay on these two I swear

Deisgn Note: Shark is based on a tiger shark & abalone is based on real abalones! hes one of my fav designs here

Six-Claws & Ostrich • He’s just a sweet dad! the little we see of him he seems to really love her & vice-versa <3 they’re just neat

Design Note: Six-Claws is based on a king cobra & is a specific sub-“species” of hooded Sandwings ! Burn found his hood mutation & six-claws super interesting

Tamarin & Pike • My fav background friendship! They’re just fun. I like Pike just chillin out around Tamarin & describing flower colors to her to the best of his ability (she just likes to hear him ramble about a shared interest)

Design Notes: I updated how I draw Tamarins eyes to properly resemble a blind-born dragon ! Also Pike’s deisgn got some yellow in it and I really like it <3

Whiteout & Thoughtful • I just think they’re neat!! They just seem like a sweet pair love them

Design Note: none really! Just experimenting with a rando Thoughtful design that I tossed together for my “ships tier list”

Tsunami • Its just her :) my fav dragon <3!!! I definitely dont think she upholds the “princess” title once she gets older, her only link to the throne is by Coral insisting monthly visits but Tsu otherwise wouldn’t be any interesting in royal life I would imagine

Design Note: Shes caught a waaururrghh something im going bonkers I cant remember what fish that is and my reference photo seems to have dissipated into the cosmos

Anemone • I LOVE HER. SO MUCH ! Anemone haters BACK OFF!!!! Her relationship to her powers is so fucked man. Something you’d think would give her power & control is just a key by which others use to manipulate and abuse her like . Man :( shes literally never had any autonomy over her own identity & intermingled her powers into her identity So Much only for that aspect of herself to also be revealed to be a facade for someone else’s desires like. GUH I love her so much I hope shes having a good day I dont care what anyone says she deserves to be a brat and I support her for it

Design Note: none really! The stars in her talons are just metaphorical though

Snowflake & Snowfox • THE OGS!!!!!! MY FAVORITE PROBLEMATIC LESBIANS <3 Ahhh remember in the early days when they were considered the #1 most problematic ship because they were gay and also evil. I love the evil lesbians so much they’re so shitty sorry Darkstalker Snowfox should’ve been queen I would’ve loved to see that go down it’d be so silly

Design Notes: Snowfox is based on an arctic fox shedding into their summer coat!! I know its p . Away from canon descriptors of her but it was sm fun to illustrate so shhh <3 Snowflake is just grey & blueish per-canon but shes sooo fun. love her.

Okay thats all here are the individual illustrations now !!!!! Because why not !!! If these aren’t transparent its all over

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: a little fic inspired by a convo @youunravelme and i had a couple of days ago! couldn’t stop thinking about this little idea and just had to write it ☺️ a little bit more lore in the squeaks’ verse added here and lots more to come! enjoy!!

tw: a little innuendo, domestic fluff

word count: 4.3k

summary: it’s talia’s first day of kindergarten and neither you nor mat is handling it particularly well

mat and t’s first day of kindergarten

You lean forward on the counter and smile at Talia, who’s looking at you skeptically. “How about we pick some snacks for your lunch tomorrow?” You ask chirpily.

“How about no?” Talia looks back at you with wide hazel eyes and a nervous tilt to her lips. Her fingers twist together and she kicks the heels of her feet against the legs of the stool she’s sitting on.

“You’re going to be hungry if we don’t pack any snacks,” you reply reasonably, unzipping the brand new Disney Princess lunchbox you’d picked up a few weeks ago at Target. The rush of back to school shopping, even if it wasn’t for you, was a high like nothing else. You’d gone slightly overboard on the supplies and in a burst of excitement, had bought yourself a new planner and half a dozen packs of various styles of pen. You can’t help but get excited about stationary.

“If I was home I wouldn’t be hungry and I could have snacks whenever I want,” Talia points out, tugging at the end of her dark braid. She twists her fingers in the hair below the tie and you reach over the counter to gently untangle her fingers.

You prop your chin on your palm and nod. “You could. But you’re not going to be home. It’s your first day of kindergarten and you’re going to have so many new experiences,” your tone is infused with excitement and you’re relieved to see that the nervousness in Talia’s expression fades a little. Her mouth twists to the side, eyebrows drawing together over her nose.

“Am I gonna see Tulsa?” She asks, hopeful.

“Tulsa’s in the next school, remember, baby?” You reply carefully, hating to burst her bubble. “She moved to a new school too.”

Talia’s lower lip quivers and she sounds impossibly sad when she says, “I thought me and Tulsa were gonna be in school together?”

“Not this year,” you reply sympathetically, but then perk up to continue, “we’re still getting first day of school ice cream with Tulsa and Gunnar and Aunt Holly and Uncle Bo. That’s exciting, right?”

Talia’s eyes light up at the promise of ice cream and you knew that would work. She’s her father’s daughter when it comes to her sweet tooth.

“And you and Daddy, right?” She asks, leaning up in her knees on the stool, little palms pressed flat against the countertop.

“And me and Daddy,” you confirm. “We’re even bringing you to school in the morning, before Daddy goes to work.”

“Okay,” Talia nods once, decisive, and her mood about starting kindergarten is all but gone. “Mommy, can I have fishies for a snack tomorrow?”

You move around the kitchen, gathering up the components for her lunch, “sure, love bug, you can have fishies.” The snack-sized packet of Goldfish get tossed into her lunchbox, along with a handful of raspberries, a peeled Cutie, exactly five pretzel twists, a Nutella and peanut butter sandwich cut into stars, and a small water bottle. Now that she’s into it, Talia’s definitely got opinions on what should be included with her lunch.

“No, you can’t take seven cheese sticks,” you sigh, pulling the bag out of her hands and replacing it in the fridge before shutting the door. “I’ll give you one.”

“But I want six!” She yelps, hanging from the fridge handle. “I want six!”

“Six what?” Mat’s voice echoes through the kitchen, the back door closing behind him.

“Daddy!” Talia squeals and makes a beeline for his knees, crashing into them with a muffled grunt from Mat. He holds the pizza box high over her head in one hand and rubs at her head with the other. “Mommy won’t let me have six cheese sticks.”

Mat grins at you over Talia’s head and you roll your eyes back, crossing your arms and leaning a hip against the counter. You wait to see how he’ll handle it.

He slides the pizza box onto the counter and hoists Talia up next to it, leaning his palms on the counter and kissing her cheeks until she giggles. “Mommy is always right, Talia Bee,” he says seriously. “Especially when it comes to knowing how many string cheeses you can eat.”

You smile to yourself, turning to the cabinets to get out plates and glasses for dinner. Mat keeps talking to Talia behind you. “Besides, the last time you ate three string cheeses you puked on my sneakers, what do you think six would do?”

“Uhhh,” Talia’s eyes go wide and she cradles Mat’s face in her little hands, “puke six times?”

You and Mat wrinkle your faces into matching expressions of disgust. “Yeah, we don’t want to do that, right?” Mat laughs, tickling Talia until she shrieks for him to stop.

Before Talia can knock into it, you slide the pizza box out of her reach, warmth filling your stomach at how adorable Mat and Talia are together. Every time you see them, with their dark heads bent together conspiring, your heart lurches with love. Having a family with Mat is all you’ve wanted since you’d seen him around his teammates’ kids.

“Daddy?” Talia pipes up a few minutes later, half-chewed pizza in her mouth.

“Swallow first, please,” you remind her, snagging the green peppers off of Mat’s slice. You have no idea when he even orders with green peppers when you’re the only one who likes them.

Talia chews and quickly swallows while Mat waits with a soft smile on his face. “Can I wear my helmet to school?” She props her chin on her fists and grins charmingly at you both. Her hockey helmet is covered in stickers and glitter, a project with Mat that you hadn’t been privy to before it happened. She’s really easy to spot on the ice during her skating lessons though.

Mat grins at your daughter, clearly delighted at the prospect of her walking into her classroom with the decorated helmet on, but he shakes his head a little. “I think your helmet is better left on the rink, TB. Didn’t you and Mommy pick out a dress?”

You casually slide a few carrot sticks on her plate, mentally fist pumping when she grabs one and absently starts chewing on it. “Yeah, baby,” you chime in, “I thought you liked the dress we picked? With the blue stripes and your fancy heels?”

Talia’s fancy heels are a regular old pair of sandals with a twisted knot over the toes and an ankle strap, but they also have a quarter of an inch thick sole by the heel and so, they’re “fancy heels.”

“Oh yeah,” Talia nods. “I forgot. Can I bring Sparky?”

“Sure you can,” you agree. “But he has to stay in your backpack, okay? We don’t want him getting lost.”

“And maybe,” she plucks her fingers at the crust of her pizza, “maybe I can take Daddy’s hat. And maybe my sparkle jacket?” Nerves creep into her voice and it wavers a bit, making your heart clench painfully. You just want to protect her from all the bad feelings.

Mat reaches out to tug at the end of her braid, “you can take my hat in your backpack too.” His lips twist up to the side a little, concerned about Talia’s nerves.

“And you can wear your sparkle jacket over your dress,” you promise. Mat’s Stanley Cup Champion hat and Talia’s customised playoff denim jacket had been staples in her wardrobe all summer and you’re not surprised that she wants to bring both with her to school as comfort items.

Talia beams and Mat slings his arm over the back of your chair, relaxing now that Talia’s happy again. “How about you finish that pizza and we get in a little park time?” He suggests, laugh echoing around the kitchen when Talia jumps up on her chair to start chanting about the park.

After clearing up dinner and wrapping the leftover pizza up, the three of you head out to the park, Talia zipping ahead of you on her little pink bike. Mat links his fingers with yours and you squeeze his hand gently.

“She’s getting so big,” he comments sadly, his lips turning down in a frown. You look up at his side profile, studying the way his eyes never leave Talia for a second. Your heart flips in your chest, a painful lurch when you think about how you should be holding another baby right now, how you want so badly to give Talia younger siblings. Mat looks down at you and squeezes your hand tightly, drawing you away from the negative thought spiral. His lips twitch, like he’s trying not to smile and you know he’s about to say something out of pocket to lift your mood. You wait and sure enough, he says, with a little twinkle in his eye, “maybe we should homeschool her?”

A laugh bubbles out of your chest, the absurdity of his question slash suggestion easing the knot in your chest.

“Mat, baby,” you giggle at him, “you have a high school education and I can’t do math. It took all of my brain power and patience to teach her how to read and write.”

“Okay, homeschooling is out,” he replies, leaning in to give you a quick peck before running off to the swings, where Talia is calling for him to push her. She still has her helmet on and it’s tipping just a little bit over her eyes. Mat’s behind her in an instant, sending the swing higher and higher into the air. You reach Talia’s bike and set it upright, sitting on the seat and watching your two favorite people in the whole world laugh together.

A warm early September breeze ruffles your hair and you wave when Talia shrieks for you to watch how high she’s going. You want to live in this moment forever and commit every detail to memory.

Mat spends the next forty-five minutes chasing Talia around the park, wearing her out enough that bath time is a breeze and she slips under her covers with little argument. You and Mat pile into her bed too and Talia curls up against your side, yawning widely. Mat reads Madeline, voice getting quieter and quieter as Talia nods off, until he’s stopped reading altogether and her mouth hangs open, face slack in sleep.

“Sleep tight, love bug,” you whisper, kissing the top of her head before easing out from under her arm. Mat helps, holding your waist and keeping you steady as you get to your feet. He plants his own kiss on Talia’s forehead and clicks off the bedside lamp and turns on the nightlight before following you out of the room.

A sort of bittersweet mood traps you and Mat while you get ready for bed later. You know she’s ready for school, ready to make new friends and learn, but it’s hard to know that your tiny best friend is going to be out of your sight for eight hours a day now.

“She’s going to kill it,” Mat says, opening his arms for you to cuddle close. You rest your cheek over his heart, arms wrapped around his waist.

“I know,” you sigh. Your legs tangle with Mat’s under the covers. “What am I going to do with my day now?”

“Bottomless brunches and window shopping at the Americana,” Mat teases, kissing the crown of your head.

You tuck yourself even closer to him, soaking up his body warmth. “Oh ha,” you drawl. “Very funny.”

“It’s why you married me,” Mat chirps and you know he’s grinning without even having to look at him.

“Mhm,” you hum. “Definitely not for your big….wallet.”

You giggle and Mat groans, training his fingers up and down your spine, making you shiver. “That was even worse than mine, Squeaks,” he mutters.

“Guess your terrible sense of humor is rubbing off on me,” you snark, kissing Mat’s chest and closing your eyes. He mutters something under his breath, but his heartbeat is steady in your ear and you’re asleep before you know it.

The next morning is harder than you expected, emotion clogging your throat as you get a special breakfast - Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes, bacon, and fruit cut into different shapes - ready for Talia while Mat helps her get dressed.

He’s surprisingly adept at doing her hair, a high ponytail braided and tied off. There’s a big white bow at the top of her ponytail and her smile is huge as she spins in the little blue and white striped sundress.

“I love this dress, Mommy,” she beams, wiggling excitedly while you tuck a napkin into her collar to keep her clean.

“You look like a princess,” you compliment her. “Daddy did a really good job with your hair.”

“Thank you,” Mat wiggles his eyebrows and sits down to his own plate of Mickey pancakes.

Talia looks at you with wide eyes and covers her mouth with both hands while she tries to whisper, “Daddy messed up soooo many times.”

Mat’s lips flatten into a straight line and he looks at Talia with sarcasm written plainly on his features. “Gee, thanks, TB. I thought we agreed not to tell Mommy that?”

Talia shrugs at him and returns to her breakfast, humming happily under her breath. You smile at Mat and lean over the counter to kiss him gently, darting your tongue out to lick up a drop of maple syrup on his lower lip. “I still think you’re pretty impressive,” you whisper against his lips.

Mat grins against your lips and Talia makes a fake gagging sound, “kissing’s gross!”

You pull back from Mat with a laugh and point your fork at your daughter. “You won’t always think that, now finish breakfast. You don’t want to be late for your first day, do you?”

Talia shovels another bite of pancake into her mouth, slightly less enthusiastic, and you kiss the top of her head before going into the front hall to find her backpack to make sure everything is packed up. It’s heavy, full of fresh supplies (including a 64-pack of Crayola crayons with Talia’s initials Sharpied onto each individual crayon, a fit of mania from Mat, because “no one is going to try and snake my baby’s crayons from her!”), the Disney Princess beach towel that’ll be used for nap time, and one of Mat’s old button downs that’ll be used for a smock during art class.

You zip the backpack and settle it back against the wall, swallowing the emotion clogging your throat. Seeing all of Talia’s gear packed up is making everything so much more real.

Mat’s hands on your hips startle you a little, and you jolt back against his chest. “Penny for your thoughts?” He mutters, kissing your cheek. His palms are warm on your sides, fingers splayed towards your belly button.

“Just thinking about how it seems like time is moving so fast,” you sigh.

Mat nods against your neck and mumbles into your skin, “can we get serious about trying for another again? I miss the baby years.”

Your heart beats in triple speed in your chest, anxiety flooding your veins, but you nod, whisper, “yes, definitely. I want another baby, Mat.”

The conversation is halted when Talia comes stampeding into the hallway, twirling around. “Mommy! Can I wear your lipstick?” She clasps her hands under her chin and pouts adorably. You should resist, tell her no and swipe on a little of the Pink Sugar Summer Fridays lip balm that she loves instead, but you find yourself nodding and pulling away from Mat to grab your purse off the hook.

“Sure, baby,” you squat in front of her, digging out the well-loved tube of Black Honey from the bottom of your purse. Talia puckers her lips out in a kiss and you swipe on a little bit of the sheer balm.

Twenty minutes later and running slightly behind schedule, after you make Talia pose for a few pictures with her Back to School board and she insists on Mat sitting on the step next to her for a picture, you’re all buckled into Mat’s car for the quick drive to the primary school. Talia’s swinging her feet in her booster seat, smiling happily now that she’s wearing the red cowboy boots Aunt Liana had brought back as a souvenir from her trip to Nashville over the summer instead of the sandals you initially wanted her to wear.

“Mommy,” Talia sing-songs, “I’m hot.”

“The air conditioning is on, T,” you sigh, rubbing at your temple. You know she’s probably hot because of the boots and the denim jacket she’d insisted on wearing. Her sandals are in your tote bag and all she has to do is ask for them, but a stubborn streak runs through your daughter, inherited directly from both you and Mat.

You can see the side of Mat’s lips tick up out of the corner of your eye, his fingers tapping along on the steering wheel as Justin Bieber plays on the radio - the old-school throwback station, which makes you feel ancient. He looks at Talia in the rear view mirror and says casually, “I bet you’d feel better if you let Mommy give you the sandals.”

Talia’s face crinkles up in disgust. “I don’t want the sandals. I wanna wear my Mashpill boots.”

A little giggle bubbles up in your chest, it’s getting rarer that Talia mispronounces a word, so you’re living for the Nashville/Mashpill mistake.

“The sandals won’t be as hot,” Mat says, and then, laughing, adds, “plus your feet won’t stink!”

“My feet don’t stink!” Talia gasps, outraged. She shoots back, shouting, “your feet stink!”

You laugh and Mat mock-glares at you. You give him an innocent smile, teasing, “keep your eyes on the road, dear.”

Mat scoffs at you, rolling his eyes even as a full smile graces his lips. Talia’s still chanting in the back about stinky feet, at the right age for the silly humor. Mat reaches out and rests his hand on your thigh, letting his fingertips drift up under the hem of the linen dress you’re wearing. The pads of his fingers dance lightly over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and you shiver a little, goosebumps rising on your arms. Mat’s smile turns smug and he taps the volume button on the steering wheel with his other hand, singing along loudly to the Billy Joel song now playing. Talia’s little voice chimes in from the back seat with her made up lyrics, and by the second verse, you’ve joined in for the three-part harmony.

Mat pulls the car up to the curb outside of the school, parking behind a line of SUVs before turning the car off and pocketing his keys.

“Ready, T?” You turn around in your seat, smiling widely at her.

She sighs and kicks her feet up at you. “Mommy, can I have my sandals?”

Your smile softens and you nod, reaching behind you for the tote resting at your feet. “Sure can, baby. I think you’ll be more comfortable this way,” you reply, getting out of the front seat so you can open Talia’s door and change out her shoes before she hops out of her booster seat. Mat’s already out on the sidewalk, holding her little pink backpack in one hand.

He looks like such a stereotypical dad in his dark jeans and navy polo, hair scraped back off his forehead and slightly beat up sneakers. The little pink backpack just makes him even hotter and you can’t help but stare. When Mat catches you looking, he gives you a slow smirk and a quick wink, holding his hand out for Talia to take.

She grabs his hand with her free one and lifts her feet off the ground without warning, swinging between you and Mat. Your arm nearly pulls out of its socket and your heart skips a quick beat, but Talia giggles and you love that she feels safe enough to do that. Mat swings his arm, sending Talia forward and eliciting even more giggles.

“Maybe we can just skip school and go to the park?” Talia asks, planting her feet back on the ground and squinting up at the school. It’s a cute little square brick building, kindergarten and first grade classrooms on the outside of the hallways and glass windows looking in on a courtyard. The ceilings are lower inside to make it more welcoming to the kids and Mat can brush the ceiling tiles with his fingertips when he stretches his arm over his head - something he had learned during the open house a few weeks ago.

But from the way Talia’s looking at the building now you’d think she was standing in front of Hogwarts.

At the same time you open your mouth to suggest going to the park after school, Mat pipes up and says, “that’s a good idea, TB. You don’t need to go to school, you can just stay home with Mommy.”

“Mat!” You hiss at him over Talia’s head and he cocks his head at you, barely looking apologetic.

“What?” He mutters back. “It’s an option.”

“It’s not!” You say, at the same time Talia says, “I wanna stay with Mommy.”

You glare at him, hoping your expression conveys the exact levels of ‘see what you did?’ that you’re feeling. Mat’s mouth curls in a sheepish expression and you can see his hand tighten around Talia’s, like he’s not going to let her into the school. Before any of the three of you can say anything, you spot a tall older woman striding down the path towards your little group. You recognize her as the principal and are bracing yourself for the absolute hysterics that Talia is sometimes prone to.

“Hi Talia,” she smiles, bending a little at the waist so she can be at eye level with your daughter, “I’m Mrs. Seaver, the principal. Do you remember meeting me at open house?”

Talia nods, totally mute, her fingers tightening around yours. Your hear squeezes a little for her, nearly ready to break down and bring her home, like Mat had suggested.

“Why don’t you come with me and we can get you settled in your classroom?” Mrs. Seaver continues, somehow managing to get Talia’s hand and backpack away from Mat and starts walking her back up the path to the school. “Your mom and dad will be so excited to hear all about what exciting things you got up to today.”

Talia looks back at you over her shoulder, an apprehensive look on her face. Mat makes a move to step forward and follow them, but you reach out to lace your fingers with his, tugging him back gently. “We literally cannot keep her from going to school,” you whisper, pasting a bright smile on your face and waving at her with your free hand.

Mat looks constipated and you nudge him with the back of your hand, muttering, “smile,” until he manages something halfway decent.

“She’s just a baby,” he says out of the corner of his mouth, waving like a robot. “She shouldn’t be old enough for school.”

You sniffle a little, watching the door shut behind Talia and the principal, your hand dropping from the air. “I don’t understand how time went so fast,” you hiccup, tears building at your lash line. Anxiety starts to churn in your stomach. “Maybe you’re right, maybe we should keep her home another year.”

“Oh, whoa,” Mat wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his chest so he can hug you tightly. “We definitely need to distract you, if you’re starting to agree with me.”

He laughs and you manage a weak giggle against his shoulder. Mat’s hands are warm against your back and you melt into him. “I’m going to miss having my little sidekick around,” you confess, suddenly exhausted from holding it together. Other than a few hours a week at pre-k, Talia’s been by your side practically every second since birth.

Mat drops a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve got a couple of hours before I have to hit the gym, why don’t we go home and make you a new sidekick?”

You can hear the grin in his voice and you pull back from his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Don’t tease me, Mat,” you murmur, heart pounding wildly. He’d said about trying again earlier, but you weren’t really sure if he was serious.

“Not teasing you, Squeaks,” he replies, the familiar nickname falling from his lips warmly. At this point, he uses it more than your given name, the curse of those damn Nikes. Mat grips your chin in between his thumb and index finger and tilts it up a little more so he can bend his head and kiss you sweetly. “Let’s give it another try and if…well, if not, we can look more into surrogacy again.”

Your head bobbles a nod and your heart swoops a little in your chest, the excited/nervous fizz of Mat’s words making you feel a little dizzy. Baby making is a land mine sometimes for your brain, but right now all you know is that everything in your body is screaming for your husband to give you another baby.

Mat’s grip on your chin tightens briefly and he kisses you again, lacing your fingers with his to drag you back to the car. You skip along behind him, laughter fighting to escape your lips.

“Should we make this one in the bedroom?” Mat teases, holding open the door for you. His hazel eyes twinkle with mischief. “Or in the shower like T?”

A flush works its way up over your chest and face, your entire body going hot. Mat laughs at the expression on your face and you mutter, “we don’t know it was the shower.”

“Right, could’ve been the back seat of the car or the couch or in Bo’s bathroom,” Mat’s eyes dance, his smile wide and shit-eating.

You can’t help but smile back at him, electric delight working its way through your veins.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 6: Leaps of Faith

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)

(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3

April 2024 

“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow. 

“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest. 

If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens. 

“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly. 

“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression. 

Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”

“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”. 

“You hate trying new things.”

“I’ve grown up I guess.”

“Azzi.”

“Mom.”

“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”

“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully. 

“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”

Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week. 

“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”

Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings. 

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”

“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”

“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look. 

“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”

“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”

“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.  

“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”

Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.

Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”

“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”

Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart. 

“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”

“Why do you need to?”

Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”

“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”

Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”

“What if you run away again?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”

“I didn’t choose Zoe-”

“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”

“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”

“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.

“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”

“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”

“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”

***

The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.

One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe. 

And then Paige looks away. 

And Azzi’s back to struggling for air. 

It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together. 

Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times. 

And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige. 

“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”

A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams. 

“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome. 

It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get. 

As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere. 

Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words. 

“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin. 

“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this. 

“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”

She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too. 

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”

Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith. 

“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically. 

“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back. 

“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow. 

“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”

“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”

Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever. 

“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against. 

“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”

“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”

And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home. 

***

July 2024 

The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly. 

There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough. 

Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing. 

“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”

“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”

“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit. 

“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”

Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”

“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too. 

He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”

“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle. 

“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”

Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer. 

“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”

“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter. 

Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”

“I don’t-”

“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied. 

“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”

“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”

“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe. 

“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed. 

“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”

Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room. 

“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”

Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”

She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place. 

“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.  

“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”

***

October 2024

Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough. 

“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings. 

“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”

“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand. 

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe. 

“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”

Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”

“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again. 

“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance. 

“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”

“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship. 

“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”

Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”

***

“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”

Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically. 

“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”

And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.

“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose. 

“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

***

Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away. 

“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”

“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?” 

“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically. 

“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”

“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”

“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale. 

“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”

“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige. 

“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand. 

The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp. 

“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”

Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”

“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever. 

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks. 

Click. 

And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together. 

***

December 2024 

There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin. 

“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”

“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other. 

“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”

“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”

It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window. 

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty. 

“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”

“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”

“Exactly. That’s exciting.”

“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile. 

“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.

“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”

Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious. 

“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand. 

“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”

And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other. 

“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”

And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi. 

“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”

They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them. 

***

April 2025

7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head. 

The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun. 

With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship. 

Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles. 

As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life. 

Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde. 

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless. 

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm. 

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it. 

“Say it again,” Paige demands. 

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug. 

And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.

[munariplans]

YES PLEASE WRITE ABOUT THAT

the second i heard about all the merch nat had amassed i thought about what readers reaction would be if they would think its sweet or tease her or make fun of how she most definitely got ripped off for most of them but will now get them free (and the most important signature of all going on the marriage certificate duh)

But it also made me think what about readers 🤔

In my head reader has all of nat’s articles printed out some even framed

synopsis: just a short one-shot / drabble based on the cute request above!

read the original forty, love.

natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

word count: 1.9k words

it had been a spontaneous decision; natasha inviting you back to her apartment. the both of you were more than slightly tipsy at that point, and you were in no condition to drive back home. luckily, or not, the bar had been right by her place, and within walking distance of her way home.

natasha thanked her lucky stars that she had liquid courage fuelling her bravery, as she asked, “do you just want to go back to my place?”

at your surprised glance, she laughed, and slapped you on the shoulder. “n-not anything weird, i promise. you will take the couch, and i will be very cosy in my bedroom.” 

you were holding her up by then, and the smirk on your face was so teasing, so smug for a moment, that natasha had to remind herself that she was drunk, and it was wrong to kiss a friend. a friend she very much had a deep history with, a friend that she wouldn’t want to stay just friends with.

“okay, lead the way, ms. romanoff,” you gestured out of the bar, and natasha and you leaned against each other the whole walk home, in the freezing temperatures of new york in winter.

it was only when she had let the both of you in through the threshold of her space, and cursed drunkenly as she tried removing her thick socks, that she noticed you weren’t by her side anymore. and you weren’t as drunk as she had been when you left the bar.

natasha heard a snicker, and when she turned to see you crouching over the television stand, her heartbeat began to raise in embarrassment and her palms cold. 

she was across the room in the next moment, screaming, “no, no! don’t look at that!”

but you were quicker, and you caught her right as she tried to block your view of the rows and rows of memorabilia that she had of you, carefully curated and collected over the years. her flailing arms trying desperately to release herself from your hold and swipe the memorabilia off of the stand and out of your memory. 

then, she heard your laughter. a hearty, amused rumble from the depths of your chest, ringing against her ears as you laughed, and laughed, at her embarrassment and the blatant obsession over your career that she had followed through the years. “oh, natasha, my natasha.”

if she even had half her mind right on trying not to make her cheeks any redder, she would have blushed at the proclamation of you calling her yours. but you were already kneeling back down to eye level with the memorabilia then, inspecting each one with amusement, and slight fondness, in your eyes. she began right after your qualification for the Australian Open, while you were still in college, but broken up. 

natasha decided it was pointless trying to stop you, and simply resigned and fell flat on the couch behind her, sighing until you had your fill.

“this was from years ago!” you picked out a ball that had been used for your final round in the qualifiers, and natasha threw her arm over her eyes. 

“i know.”

you picked out a cap this time, “i remembered signing only about ten of these to give out to fans during the festive season.”

“i know. i signed up for your team’s emailers, lucky draws, even bought your stupid posters and water bottles, anything, to get a chance of winning that thing.”

you let out another grin, and while she couldn’t see you, you let your eyes soften at the fact that she had done so much to support you, and you hadn’t realised. all these years. it made everything a little bit of a shame; the lost time and wasted efforts.

finally, you took a row of little figurines of your racket designs over the years, neatly arranged and kept in an acrylic casing. “nat, you could start a museum about me at this rate.”

“oh, shut up!” she shot up this time, trying to wrench it out of your grasp, but you pulled away, giggling at her cheeks reddening again. 

“seriously, how much have you spent on all this? must’ve cost you thousands, i’m a really expensive player,” you gave her a cheeky grin, and she took your cheeks in between her fingers, pinching as hard as she could. you yelped in pain as you jumped back, “ouch!”

“i hate you, i hate you so much.”

you rolled her over, grabbing a marker that you had spotted lying nearby, and immediately taking her arm to sign on it. she tried to bite you this time, but you managed to escape just in time. “your collection seems to say otherwise.”

that night, the proposition for you to sleep on the couch and her in her own bedroom was quickly forgotten; as the both of you ended up play fighting all the way until you landed on her bed. natasha pointed you out on it, but you were adamant, and pulling the covers over the both of  you, exhausted from the bar and natasha’s punches, you sighed happily. “too late, i’m here now. bed’s too warm.”

she grumbled that she hated you once more, as she came in closer and slung her arm over your midriff to pull you close, under the guise of still being cold. you decided not to point out that her limbs were practically tangled with yours in the morning, head on your chest as she slept as peacefully as a child who had just gotten their first tennis ball signed by you in a tournament.

it was only years later, when you tried to point it out on the day of registering your marriage, had natasha threatened you sleeping on the couch in your shared apartment again. this time, you knew she meant business; and the threat was most likely real, so you shut up quickly and followed her into the registry.

while you signed the certificate beside her, she caught you stifling a laugh again, and jabbed your side to ask you what it was about. 

“nothing.”

“tell. me,” she glared at you, “or i’m not signing that thing.”

your eyes twinkled with amusement, you looked so entertained by your own memory. “j-just…i was just thinking…how much the you in the past would have paid for this signature right here, on this certificate. you were my number 1 collector and fan, of course.”

the witness couldn’t control his own chuckles, seeing natasha pull you in by the ear and scolding you for teasing her until her whole body turned red with shame.

afterwards, however, when the two of you were alone, did she finally admit, “i still am your number 1 collector and fan. don’t you ever forget that, or try to replace me.”

– 

but natasha had her own arsenal of materials to make fun of you for your obsession with her too, of course. while you hadn’t had memorabilia or kept up with her over the years with no contact, that was a problem that was quickly alleviated once you learnt of natasha’s full-time job as a reporter and editor.

the next match natasha came to after your first grand slam win, your manager had asked her how her day at the office the previous night went, and while taken aback, he sheepishly admitted that you had asked him to, and to make sure she was comfortable at the seats. she had first chalked it up to a lucky coincidence that you knew she was on the news yesterday, reporting on a recent economic trend that hit the country. 

then, it was all debunked when you came to her later, and while distracted with fans that were coming up to you at your hotel, you had left your phone unattended at the bar with natasha. it wasn’t really her fault you received a ping from a message then, to reveal your lockscreen had been changed to one of a scheduling sheet. upon closer inspection, it had been natasha’s schedule sheet, of when she would be on air for the month, complete with the locations and timings that the firm had published for her. she presumed the ones in red highlights were when you had your matches, and true enough, they were, when she found your manager helping to record a segment of her news portions one day, and having to admit to her that you had asked him to so you could watch her after to destress. she could hardly control the butterflies that erupted in her belly at the confession. 

when the both of you had gotten closer and you would spend some dinners and mornings at her place, natasha would find that you had even pinned her as the top editor in the morning news you would read, always reading what she had published first before anyone else, as if her writing was your morning coffee. she chose not to say anything of it, silently gleaming at the fact that you paid so much attention to what she wrote.

you would often say, “i really liked that piece, the one on the impacts of artificial intelligence in sports,” or some other topic that she would have written, and point out your own thoughts on her piece. it was like having her own personal editor, with no judgments, no criticism. just love for what she had put out, and validation for her work. natasha was glad she had a supporter so ardent as you had yours.

and when the two of you had officially gotten together, natasha once received a text from your best friend during your match, while she was at work, and sighed at the opportunity that she had missed. however, when she did open up the text, it gave access to a video that said best friend had recorded, and there you were, in your dressing room before the match, crouched over the small television set there was, watching her cover the daily news like it had been an action movie. you paid attention to every word, eyes following her as she moved around like an entranced puppy, and when you had to get up and leave, natasha saw you leaning close and pressing a kiss from your fingers to the screen where she was, in replacement of the lips you couldn’t kiss in real life then, and she couldn’t control her burst of laughter. you had to know about this, at the very least.

you physically recoiled and clamped your eyes shut in embarrassment when you saw the video yourself, natasha still fighting hard to control the chuckles coming out of her, and you begging for her to delete whatever you had just seen. “nat, please, please!”

“no, this is hilarious!” she said between fits, “you are hilarious. is this your pre-match ritual, baby?”

“it is not! n-no, i can’t have anyone else see me like this, i can’t have the public see me like this,” you tried to wrestle her off for the phone, but only half-heartedly, because natasha was never in a million years going to let you delete it. 

“oh relax, it’s only going to leak if you really, really piss me off one day, or if this phone gets hacked,” she replied, eyes still dancing in amusement as you hid your face in your hands, shaking your head in shame. “it’s kind of sweet, i must admit.”

you pouted at her. “promise me it’s not going anywhere. promise me you won’t send it to anyone else.”

she interlaced her pinky with yours, “i promise.”

natasha had already sent the video to your manager, however, and allowed you to become the laughing stock of your team just days after that match occurred.

[munsonsmixtapes]

lmao i’m a lil embarrassed for asking but i can’t help it now that i saw you said to send in a request. can we have more virgin!eddie x experienced!reader? maybe she’s teaching him how to eat her out properly and she’s surprised by how into he is and how eager he is to please? with some cute puppy eddie fluff pleeeease 😇 lol doesn’t have to be this at all tbh, just anything with that pairing fr 😅

No need to be embarrassed, lovely! I absolutely love this request and pairing! I was actually thinking about writing more about them, if people are interested!

virgin!Eddie x experienced!reader

cw: oral (f receiving)

This is a continuation of this post!

After your first time with Eddie, you had made it a very regular thing. It didn’t matter whose place you ended up at, but you’d always end up in bed together. You’d be tangled up in the sheets either until the early morning or until you couldn’t walk, whichever came first.

And there was never any foreplay or much kissing involved either. You’d just get straight into the act, desperate to have Eddie’s dick inside you every single time. And you were addicted to the feeling, loving how confident he was becoming after you had been sleeping together for a while.

He was now shameless about the noises he made and it almost seemed like he was making them supper loud because he knew just how wet it always made you. He was getting really good, almost better than you which you didn’t think was possible.

There was something about being with him that felt so different from being with anyone else. He actually seemed to want to enjoy his time with you as opposed to the others who were just looking to take whatever it was that they wanted from you. Eddie was actually concerned about making you feel good and wanted to be sure that you were enjoying it just as much as him.

You and Eddie were in your bed for the third time that week and but found yourselves only making out. No clothes had been removed and the two of you seemed pretty content with just kissing while sensual music played in the background.

His lips moved with yours and your mind started to wonder what his mouth would feel like on your cunt. You knew he hadn’t eaten anyone out, but maybe you could have taught him. Maybe if he told him exactly what to do, he’d be able to do it, making you feel so much pleasure.

You pulled away from him and looked at his face. His pupils were blown and his lips were pink and swollen from all the kisses you had shared. He was so adorable that it hurt with his big brown eyes that were always filled with so much love and his hair that was always messy even after he had just brushed it.

“I did something wrong, didn’t I?” He was always asking that and it made you feel bad that that was always a thought in the back of his head. Even if he did do something “wrong” you would tell him nicely and help him correct it.

“No, no,” you shook your head and moved your hand up to wrap one of his curls around your finger, twirling it around the digit. “I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to…eat me out?”

Eddie nodded his head vigorously and his eyes went wide. He was definitely more up for it than you had anticipated and that made you feel better about the whole thing.

“I can definitely do that,” he nodded again. “But…I don’t know how.”

“I could coach you through it,” you told him, a small smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth.

“You’d do that?” Of course you would have.

“Mhm,” you replied. “Do you want to?” He wanted nothing more and was getting so hard thinking about having his head between your thighs.

“So bad, baby,” his hands squeezed your hips. “You have no idea.”

You both sat up and Eddie got off of you, unsure where to place himself and you took him by the hands, wanting to have a discussion before anything started. You wanted to make sure that he knew that he could back out at any point and that he didn’t have to do it just to please you if he wasn’t enjoying it.

He nodded along as you spoke, taking in every single word as if they were very important to him. All of the talks you had had about consent were just as important to him to listen as they were to you to speak them.

“Alright, um, you’re going to want to get on your knees at the foot of the bed.” He listened and quickly got off the bed and lowered himself to his knees on the rug underneath him. You followed and placed yourself in front of him and took him by the hands.

You guided them up to the band of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your legs before setting them on the floor. He then slowly rested his hands on your knees and spread your legs, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time to make sure that it was okay. His eyes then drifted to your sopping wet pussy and you could see his cheeks blush.

“You’re soaked,” he let out a chuckle.

“Mhm,” you bit your bottom lip. “And it’s all for you, baby.” His cheeks flushed even more and you thought it was funny that you could make him do that just form a little comment. “Whenever you’re ready, drape a leg over each shoulder.

He did the action so quickly so you could tell that he was eager to get to it. He had definitely wanted it just as much as you did and that made you even more wet.

“Now when you get your face into it, use your tongue and lick back and forth to start.” He buried his face into your pussy and you let out a gasp as his nose brushed the sensitive skin.

He licked back and forth and you clutched the blanket underneath you as pleasure rolled through you. He kept going and you told him to suck on the spot which he did, eliciting a moan from you. He licked and sucked and you gripped the blanket even harder as your back arched in euphoria.

“You taste so good,” he told you before diving back in and you felt his teeth graze the sensitive spot, wondering where the hell he had learned that, but before you could ask, another moan fell from your lips.

“Sh-shit, Eddie.”

“You like that?” He laughed, loving that he was able to make you come undone for a change.

“Fuck, do that again.” He was quick to oblige and shoved his face back into your cunt, grazing it with his teeth once more and you reached your climax, letting out what Eddie thought was the loudest moan he had ever heard and was eager to hear it again.

“Could eat you all night, darling. Swear to god. Taste so fucking good.” He then replaced his teeth with his tongue, shoving as much of the muscle as he could inside of you and your back arched again as your knees pressed against his head.

Your moans has been muffled by your knees, but he could still hear them clearly as he continued to lick, suck, and graze it with his teeth. You had been eaten out more time than you could count, but this one was definitely the best out of them all. First off, he seemed so eager to please you, wanting to make you feel good. And he also loved the way you tasted, making sure to let you know while others didn’t seem to care enough to.

That was the difference. Eddie cared. He cared so much and always felt the need to tell you how much he was enjoying himself while making sure that you felt the same. It was all so important to him and that made you feel special even though you knew he would have done the same for anyone else.

Eddie removed his face from your cunt and you sat up, your breathing still labored as you looked down at him. You noticed slick dripping from his chin and just as you were about to let him know, he made direct eye contact with you and ran his tongue along his chin, getting every last drop before pulling his tongue back into his mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you told him and pushed him to the ground before pressing your lips to his in a bruising kiss before licking into his mouth. “And by the way, you can eat me out anytime you want.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he grinned and you pulled him into another kiss, neither of you bothering to get back into the bed as you removed your clothes for the first fuck of the night, knowing that Eddie could please you just as much as you pleased him.

[luvtak]

mr. sandman, bring me a dream

✧ pairing 7 dream x reader

✧ genre/tw fluff fluffy fluff fluff, what i think dating them would be like <3 an embarrassing amount of run-on sentences i'm sure.... the dreamies being the most perfect boyfriends to exist, mostly unedited

✧ w/c 2293 (about 300 words each!!)

✧ a/n back to my roots writing for nct... also,,, not the dreamies being my ult group but my last group to do these headcanons for :/ i have so much fun writing these little ideas and dreams about them let me know if you want more!

MARK truly the definition of wrapped around your finger… tells everyone about you every day of his life. Smiles at everything you say and calls you the cutest names. Makes sure everyone knows that you’re taken for life–no ifs about it. Tells you about his whole day, down to the most unimportant details. Kisses you all around your face and gets red seeing you so flustered. Constantly saying the worst pickup lines. Always always makes time for you even with his busy schedule. Talks to your family on the phone and becomes best friends with your siblings. Lets you win during video games and pretends that you’re just so much better than him. Never comes empty-handed–if you invite him over he’s bringing some sort of present he can’t help it. Wraps you up in at least three layers when it looks a little cold outside. Starts bringing up ideas for a Halloween couple’s costume in January. Celebrates your birthdays and accomplishments like his own. Holds you close to him in any moment of rest, the members are around? He’s only bringing you in closer. I’m sorry to say this, but he is definitely one of those people who refer to you as a “we”... “we watched that movie last week!” or “sorry, we can’t come, we have plans.” Would never even think about fighting with you and when it can’t be avoided, he is always the first to apologize. Walks around draped over you, his neck falling onto your shoulder and clumsily shuffling you along. Steals your phone to take silly pictures of himself, and you end up having 500 selfies of Mark making the same five kissy faces. Fixes your clothes/jewelry/hair as the day takes its toll. Kisses your wrist whenever you hold hands. Lovely and forever committed to giving you the sweetest existence possible.

RENJUN  My angel boy<3 would be the most loving boyfriend if you’re able to get past him giving you sm attitude. Lovingly scolds you 24/7 365. Pouts if you don’t say you love him back or forget to kiss him before you leave. Steals your sweaters and jewelry. Makes you laugh so hard you cry, then kisses the tears away. Has the worst case of cute aggression when he see’s you like he can’t help but take a bite out of you. Whenever you ask him to do something he’ll roll his eyes and scoff but still gets up to do it anyway. Says your name so sweetly and with so much love it could be a term of endearment. Sings to you when you’re sad. Holds you so tight when you sleep, like he could absorb you into his own skin. Carries a picture of you in his wallet everywhere he goes. Gets genuinely annoyed when other people know something about you that he didn’t–wants to know everything, especially the embarrassing stuff. Acts of service king, does things for you and expects nothing but a kiss in return. Gives you the first bite of his food. Forehead kisses 100% of the time. Extremely tenderhearted, wants to be loved and love in return with nothing holding him back. Knows your schedule down to a T. Shakes his head at every joke you tell, but still grants you a laugh. Kisses you slowly and earnestly even if theres people around. Drops the most earth-shattering confessions of love at random moments and just expects you to move on. Matching accessories are a must!! And he will be ready to break up if your forget it one day (we have seen how he is with the dreamies friendship rings). Wraps himself completely around you when no one is around, and stays that way until one of you has to get up. Loves completely and wholeheartedly and is a perfect perfect boy. 

JENO Shy and perpetually flustered, cannot believe he got you fr. Alternates between the cockiest boy you’ve ever met and the most oblivious creature around. Is so in awe of you, cannot get over you choosing him. A big baby of a boyfriend. Body slouched over yours at all times. Tells everyone it isn’t obvious how unbelievably whipped he is for you than giggles when you call him a pet name. Loves when you fawn over him lol, would feel so good about himself when you laugh at his jokes or wear an outfit because he said you looked pretty in it. Definitely the kind of boy who gets you a necklace with his initials on it. Is somehow even more smiley when you’re around. His love language is 100% acts of service–helping you with chores and making dinner, he desperately wants to wash your hair and help take your makeup off. Always takes you home himself and makes you call him before you go to bed. Kisses you all over when you’re sad and squeezes you so tight you can’t breathe. Puts his lips right over your ear and whispers so you can hear him in loud places, sometimes telling terrible jokes to see you laugh. Constantly on the phone with you–will get yelled at by his members and staff to focus on his schedule. Takes you on long drives and lets you have the aux the whole time, smiles even when he hates the song.  Snuggles up to you and has you in an iron grip all night; wakes up periodically to tell you to stop wiggling. Literally a broken record of “oh my s/o would like this!” and “you would never believe what my s/o told me…” Tucks you into his sweater when you’re cold and always carries extra clothes because he knows you’ll forget. Could never hide his feelings for you, it’s written all over–hairbands and your favorite snacks in his cabinets. Is so so so in love with you, and would never even think about being embarrassed of it. <3

HAECHAN Sweet as cherry pie. Silly and charming and the kindest boy you know. Lives his life attached to you, hands on your hips and kisses pressed everywhere he can reach. Never goes a day without telling you he loves you in the most sickeningly sweet ways possible. Listens to every word you say, goes as far as telling other people to be quiet so he can hear you better. Serenades you with the most obnoxious renditions of love songs and coos when you make faces at him. Teases you endlessly–tickles and jokes and ridiculous nicknames, but would never let anyone else make a joke at your expense. Sleeps fully on top of you, head pressed under your chin and hands slipped under your sleep shirt. Celebrates you and your relationship with all of him, always the loudest voice singing happy birthday and the prettiest flowers congratulating you for an achievement at work or school. Speaks to you so softly and with so much compassion you almost get whiplash when you see him around the dreamies. Brings home sweet treats and little keepsakes from his day out. Will watch a movie or listen to a new song and note all the parts you’d like so he can play it for you later and speak to you about it. Unbelievably protective, not in a toxic way, but he wants so much to be able to take care of you and keep you safe–hand pressed on your back while you walk through crowds, and his hand protecting you from hitting your head as you get in the car. Has lists of important days in his notes app, cataloging gifts he could get you and your order at all your favorite restaurants. The perfect silly boyfriend, caring and lovely and everything you need

JAEMIN Marry this man. Has been committed and steadfast in his dedication to you since you met. Extremely serious when it comes to your heart and your feelings. The first to say I love you or to apologize after a fight–would never raise his voice at you or say things he didn’t mean. Is always feeding you, either a complete meal that took him an hour to make or the most perfect bowl of ramyeon you’ve ever had. Constantly sending you pictures of the cats. LOVES pda–kisses you in front of everyone and laughs when they groan, cuddles with you on the practice room couch, and rolls his eyes when the dreamies gag. Always kisses you with soft hands on your cheeks and the prettiest smile. Buys you a keepsake from everywhere they go on tour and gives it to you in a huge suitcase and will not feel ashamed in the slightest. Somehow finds out how to bring you up in every conversation, “oh they really like this song” or “thats actually their favorite movie you know…” you would truly never have to worry about anything with this man, he’s gonna take care of everything, a future airport dad if i’ve ever seen one. Sends tiktoks of cute animals and pouts if you don’t like them right away. Buys you silly sweatshirts and phonecases and demands you wear them proudly as a symbol of his everlasting love. Out of all of the boys, I feel like he is the most likely to give you a promise ring, and in my heart, I know he would have his name engraved on the inside–a quiet confession only the two of you know about. Sleeps directly on top of you, I just know it… holds onto you in every crowd. So many conversations between little kisses and I love yous. Always carries your things, whether it be a bag or shoes that got too uncomfortable his hands are open and ready whenever you need them. The most perfect boy in the world, and whose surprised? 

CHENLE truly your best friend in the entire world, f2l in its entirety… would roast you every minute of every day but if anyone else even dared he is shutting that shit down right away. His arm has a permanent residence on your waist. Giggles at you when you’re annoyed at him but apologizes anyway. Makes you watch him play basketball at 11 pm and laughs when you say you're cold and sleepy, but takes you home right away. Will kiss you in front of anyone–loves it when you get all shy and flustered. Always trying to give you expensive presents and rolling his eyes when you tell him to reign it in. dog dates with Daegal!!! Talks about you so causally that the dreamies didn’t realize you were his girlfriend until he kissed you goodbye, and they were all so dumbfounded. Will watch anything if you like it and will tell you it sucked with a smile on his face before kissing you as an apology. Huge bouquets for any anniversary or birthday. Wraps his arms around you and rocks you around, whispering sweet words that he’d deny if you told anyone about. Stares at you 24/7 and gives you his 100-watt smile. Goes out of his way to help you–buys your groceries, helps wash your hair, picks you up, and takes you wherever you need to go–but always denies it. Begs you to wear his clothes, bonus points if it’s something that has his name on it, or some nct merch. Has an iron grip on your hand at any given point and giggles when you try to get free. Will listen to literally anything you tell him. Smiles into kisses and sighs when you pull away. Is so domestic and lovely in everything he does, even if sometimes he is the biggest menace. 

JISUNG so so so shy, truly does not know how to have a s/o in public lmao. When you’re alone he’s the cutest most confident boy in the world but as soon as there is another person around he does not know you. He makes it obvious that it's just because he’s awkward, but sometimes you definitely do have to tell him to stop being a weirdo and to hold your hand. Constantly makes fun of people with you and is always ready to hear some hot goss. Is always listening to you–even if everyone in the room is talking over you, he will be looking at you with his full attention and urging you to go on. Laughs at everything you say even if it's not funny. Kisses your cheek every morning first thing, and thinks you look so cute cuddled up into the covers. Piggy-backs you everywhere: you drank a little too much or it's too early… up you go! You being comfortable and happy is his priority in any situation, and if anyone including himself is disrupting that he is dealing with it immediately. Whether that means complaining to one of hyungs to help him or going straight to the source of the issue, he’s going to try and help you, even if it’s not like him to speak up for himself–you’re the most important thing to him. Tries to teach you nct dances and gets unbearable secondhand embarrassment when he sees you mess up. Almost exposes your relationship once a month. Is wrapped around you every single moment you’re alone, even if it’s just for a second–someone leaves the room? Jisung is suddenly fully enveloping you. Thinks pda is so embarrassing but would try so hard to be more openly affectionate with you. Blushes to his roots when you sweet talk him no matter how long you’ve been together. Kisses your hands when it’s cold outside and wouldn’t even think about giving you anything of his if you needed it. The sweetest, shyest boy, and so wonderful–loving him and being loved in return would be the loveliest gift.

© LUVTAK

[avatar-anna]

would you ever write about harry and y/n finding out that they’re pregnant again with charlie 🥺

yes!

(for context: in a recent oneshot in this universe, it is revealed that harry and reader have a seventh and final child when they're in their thirties)

It would definitely be that cliche of Y/n and Harry going to some red carpet event, and Harry sees Y/n all dressed up and is just like...

"Fuck, Mama, must be the luckiest man in the world."

Y/n blushed and looked down at the gown she and Harry Lambert picked out some time ago. Being a mother of six, she didn't dress up much, but when she did, she tended to go all out. Perhaps part of her wanted to relive all the proms, homecomings, and formals she never got to go to, but she appreciated the art in a beautiful garment too.

The one she wore now fit her like a glove, the lace, almost handkerchief-like bodice draping over her shoulders beautifully, and the rest of the black-as-night velvet hugging her hips perfectly.

Harry was never one to shy away from paying his wife compliments, but each time he did, she felt it right down to her core. Every sweep of his gaze over her body, every earnest word, every searing touch, it all lit her up from the inside out.

This time was no different, so when Harry tried to unzip Y/n from her dress, she didn't notice at first, too caught up in his touch. Once she did, she tried to make lame attempts to ward him off to at least claim that she tried later on.

It was safe to say they were on each other all night. Whenever he could, Harry pulled Y/n away, desperate to get his mouth on her. It was no easy feat with the considerable length of the dress, but he never seemed to care or mind. All night, they whispered back and forth to each other, toying with jacket lapels and bare arms.

"You need me again, Mama?"

"Where's the zipper on this thing?"

"Quickly, while no one's looking."

"Keep your hands away from my tits, H."

"Don't act like you don't love it."

All night they went back and forth. Teasing and giving into each other and sharing stolen kisses when the cameras weren't pointed in their direction—though the next morning they found out they weren't as discreet as they originally thought, with photos of them in the background kissing and Harry's hands all over Y/n cropping up online.

At some point during the night, a friend even asked where Harry and his wife kept disappearing to, another if that was a hickey on his neck, and both of them stumbled through a lie as they blushed furiously.

So it shouldn't have come as a surprise when Y/n's period was late, but it does. She thought she had put her pregnancy days behind her, so she went to the doctor thinking she had some kind of stomach bug, only to find out that she was pregnant. Y/n wasn't upset by the news, just caught off guard, though she couldn't help but daydream about having a little baby in the house again now that her other babies were growing up.

Harry found out on accident. Y/n missed a phone call from the doctor's office, and they called Harry's number, which was also listed in her information. Thinking someone got hurt, Harry picked up in a panic, only to hear, "Hi there, Mr. Styles! We're trying to get a hold of your wife to reschedule her ultrasound. Will the following week work?"

Harry answered in a daze, agreeing to an appointment time and date without really listening. Part of him knew he should be excited, but all he could think about was why Y/n hadn'told him yet.

"Anything you wanna tell me?" he asked later that night. They were both watching TV, a show they'd been watching every night before bed the last few weeks. He'd been itching to get Y/n alone all day so he could finally ask what the phone call, and after picking up and dropping off at friends' houses and volleyball practice and study groups and one big family dinner, now was finally his chance.

Y/n hadn't caught on yet, so she just shrugged. "Collette is convinced she's going to Paris Fashion Week by herself, and I don't have the heart to tell her she's not going without one of us."

This was news to Harry, but he tabled that conversation for later. "I got a call from the OBGYN's office. They asked to reschedule your ultrasound."

Harry could feel Y/n stiffen beneath him as she sighed deeply. Before she could say anything, though, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to," she promised, kissing away the furrow in her husband's brow. "I wanted to tell you and the kids at the same time. And you know how hard it is to wrangle everyone up. Maeve wasn't even at dinner tonight."

"Oh." Harry had spun a number of different answers Y/n might've come up with, but that hadn't been one of them. "Do you...want to keep it?"

Y/n could tell Harry was asking for her sake, not his. He'd been dying for another baby for years, slowly giving up hope every time she turned him down. Now that they faced the prospect of actually having another baby, though, he didn't want her to feel pressured. He never had, but he wanted to make extra sure.

"Honestly? Yeah, I do," Y/n said, resting her and Harry's hands over her belly. "I'm just...kind of shocked."

"Really?" Harry asked. Now that he'd had time to think about it, about which night in question could've been the one, he wasn't that surprised at all.

"Yeah, I—I guess I thought that part of my life was over. But... I'm glad it isn't. I'm excited about this."

"Me too."

Y/n gave him an amused look as if to say, you finally got your wish. But all she said was, "You just like that I get super horny when I'm pregnant."

Harry gasped dramatically, which made Y/n toss her head back and laugh. "That is not even remotely true. Maybe. Sort of. It's perhaps in the top ten things I'm excited for, but not the first."

"You're ridiculous," Y/n said, shaking her head at her husband. "And I love you."

"I love you too." Harry leaned in to kiss Y/n, the feel of his lips on hers more familiar than anything else in the world. He knew every part of her, every inch of her body and soul, and she knew his. It was comforting, it was home.

"Any chance those hormones have kicked in yet?" Harry murmured jokingly as he kissed her neck.

Y/n held her husband by the back of his hair so she could look him in the eye. "Absolutely not. I love you, and I love the twins, but we're not doing that again."

"What? Come on! We're way past that window," Harry reasoned. "And the doctor said it was rare."

"Yeah, so is getting pregnant at my age, but here we are."

"At your age?" Harry asked incredulously, looking down at Y/n through heavy lidded eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were lit as she watched him, the way they always were when they joked around. He was pretty sure no one amused her more than he did, and that was saying something considering the collective craziness their children engaged in regularly. "You're just winding me up, aren't you? You want me to remind you how young and fun we are."

"I don't know if that's—Harry!"

"Shh!" Harry said as a laugh bubbled out of Y/n as he yanked her down until she was lying flat on the bed, her arms pinned high above her. "Do you want them to hear you, Mama?"

That sobered her up a little, her laughter subsiding. Then, she smiled up at him, her hand reaching up to cup Harry's cheek. "We're having a baby."

Harry's grin was immediate, excitement filling his whole body from those four words alone. "We're having a baby."

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

[anothermansjeans]

Heyy Idk if this is how you request but we'll see......

Could you maybe do like a singer!reader who writes like dirty af songs abt Spencer and then Penelope shows the song to the rest of the team and they all start low-key bullying him and continue making comments abt it while on a case or something like that??

<33

XOXO-

~W~

okay i don't know any DIRTY DIRTY songs so i apologize if this isn't that great 😭 let me know if you want another one that shows different songs! ALSO I IMAGINE THE READER SINGING A DIFFERENT OUTRO TO NONSENSE EVERY NIGHT JUST LIKE MS SABRINA CARPENTER

cw: implied sex, reader talks sings about getting head and being handcuffed

wc: 610

masterlist

++

“Oh, hey pretty boy.”

Spencer walked into the bullpen to see the majority of the team huddled around Derek’s desk with amused looks on their faces. He tentatively continued his walk, but immediately froze in place when he heard the video playing from the computer.

“This song’s catchier than chickenpox is.

I bet your house is where my other sock is.

Woke up this morning, thought I’d write a pop hit.

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz?

My man’s IQ is one-eighty-seven.

When he’s going down on me I’m in Heaven.

Handcuff me to the bed like I’m a felon.”

Her laughs could be heard from the video, and Spencer’s face immediately turned fifty shades of red.

“So, where were you last night, Reid? You know, when you said you couldn't join us for drinks.”

He rolled his lips into his mouth at Emily’s question. Everyone had an expecting look except for Penelope… She seemed guilty. “I uh, I was at a concert…”

“What concert?” JJ’s question was presented as innocent, but it was everything but that.

“My girlfriend’s,” he mumbled lowly, barely loud enough for them to hear.

“Could you repeat that?”

Spencer glared at Derek, he knew exactly what he was doing. “My girlfriend’s.”

“Well hot damn, you finally admitted it!”

“I wasn't keeping it a secret. I'm just not as open about my love life as the rest of you are.” He huffed and brought himself over to his desk.

“Well, Garcia was kind enough to show us a video she found online and we didn't know what to expect… who else has an IQ of one-eighty-seven?”

Spencer whipped his head over to Penelope with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry!” Her hands went up in her defense. “I just– I love her music and I couldn't make it to the concert in D.C last night so I was watching videos that people took and it doesn't take a genius to know who she's talking about when we know you so well.” Her words were quick, and she was huffing to breathe when she finished her sentence.

Spencer groaned and put his head in his hands.

“I think my favorite song of hers is Nasty.”

Spencer winced at Emily’s words as everyone else laughed. They definitely are going to have a field day with him.

“I love Espresso.” The humor in JJ’s voice was evident.

“So It Goes… and Guilty as Sin? might be the top contenders for me,” and Derek just has to add on. “Tell us, Reid, are scratches down your back?”

Spencer stood up and went towards the coffee machine, ignoring the laughs and references they were making. He was allowed about three minutes of solace before Penelope hesitantly tapped his shoulder with a shy look on her face. “We got a case. Everyone’s at the round table.” He gave a nod at her words and followed her, ears perking up when he heard her singing under her breath, “don't want to wait on it. Tonight, I wanna get nasty.”

He suppressed the groan waiting to come out, and sat down at the table when he felt a buzz in his pocket.

Y/N: made it to philly!! love you, be safe today. text me whenever you're free 🫶

He was about to message back before Hotch walked in, “We’re going to brief as quickly as possible. We're headed to Philadelphia.”

He knew Penelope knew the next stop on Y/N’s tour, and could feel her eyes boring into the side of his face. He was mentally preparing for the jokes as soon as they stepped out of the conference room.

++

songs that i imagined reader wrote about spencer:

nonsense by sabrina carpenter

nasty by ariana grande

espresso by sabrina carpenter

so it goes... by taylor swift

guilty as sin? by taylor swift

dress by taylor swift

[chilschuck]

Hii!!! I just discovered your blog and i have to say, dude i loooooove the way you write about Chilchuck!!! Absolutely lovely!

If your requests are open, id really like to know your thoughts on Chil intereacting/dating with a reader who's also a hafling? Maybe they're also the shortest of haflings even tho they are an adult? (T^T projecting hard coz I'm 21 and havent grown since 6th grade, literally 4'10 lmfao)

Feel free to ignore if you dont feel comfortable with this ask! Again, love all your works 😭💕

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAAAAAH ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! (;;;w;;;) i was so happy to write this because my insert is also a half-foot, so this was fun to do!!! i made this super fluffy so i hope you enjoy it!! <333

— CHILCHUCK: x half-foot reader hcs.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw + gn!reader! suuuuper fluffy!!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 562

✦ hope this is okay anon!!! this was so fun and now i’m in such a fluffy mood. (;;;w;;;) just wanna pull him close and give him so much love, waaaaah.

✦ Chilchuck would definitely use the height difference he has to his advantage. When you’ve been dating for a while, I like to think he’d pull you to his chest and rest his head on your shoulder, enjoying the proximity. Maybe he even rests his chin on top of your head when he’s feeling affectionate.

✦ Cuddling with this man as another half-foot is so nice. He’s going to be the big spoon most nights to feel protective, and in doing so he’s wrapping you up in that warm body of his. If you feel like spoiling him, snuggle your head into his chest as he holds you, wrapping your arms around him. He’d probably melt into the blankets.

✦ We know Chilchuck isn’t very affectionate in front of others, but I like to imagine him still pulling you close behind closed doors and burying his head into your neck after a long day. Maybe he comes home and wordlessly kisses your forehead, pulling you into him and sighing. (He’ll probably not talk about anything that happened at work, but at least he shows you he’s there!)

✦ As you’re another half-foot, dancing with him is a must! Especially after he’s had a few drinks in his system. We know from that one piece of official art that he can, in fact, dance a bit, so I can see him pulling you in as well. Any time you two can, dance with him and enjoy how big his smile is when you grab his hand that’s held out to you.

✦ I saw other people headcanon this, but imagine wearing his clothes and having them be a little baggy on you. You enjoy it a bit too much, going through his laundry and finding something of his to wear. Chilchuck will get a little red in the face at the sight of you in his shirts, but he’ll wave it off and mumble how nice you look.

✦ Leaning up to kiss his cheek and pulling him by his belt towards you will definitely get him a little flustered. We know how this man is with affection, but if it’s from you, it gets his heart beating a good bit. Decorate his face in kisses by pulling him down gently by his neckwarmer and watch as he lifts his hands up to shakily hold your waist. Sometimes he even pulls you to his lips to get what he really wants if you keep teasing him like this.

✦ Going back to cuddling, if you decide to share a bedroll with him, he’s the perfect sleeping partner. Seeing as he likes to sleep on his back, you can easily slot up against his side and rest your head against his chest. He’ll wrap an arm around you to subconsciously pull you closer in the middle of the night. (Be prepared to get super warm and toasty while sleeping now!)

✦ Chilchuck thinks your height difference is cute, but he’ll never admit it out loud. You can use it to your advantage too by walking past him and kissing his shoulder. Maybe even wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck. Chil will jump a bit at first, but lean into your touch, especially if you nuzzle into his shoulders. After all, you’re definitely a soft spot for him.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <33

[i-mean-yeah-whatever]

Every time I read an anti-Bucktommy take it's like they don't understand what they're watching. Like, no understanding of how fiction works at all and a criminal lack of media literacy. And also unable to follow a simple story.

A tv show like 911 will never be like their favorite friends to lovers fics where everything they want to see on-screen is made into words, every little thought, every gesture is described in a flowery way, every single line is doctored to fit the fandom's expectations, using very specific tropes. This is fanwork, this is our business, we love it, we cherish it but this is our stuff.

911 is a tv show. It'll use many types of tv writing techniques to get to the point while having to deal with budgetary constraints, marketing needs, political restrictions and more. Could they have done a better job with reintroducing Tommy? Absolutely. Does it work as it is? Of course, if we're actually looking at what and how they tell on-screen.

A (long) BuckTommy timeline.

🚁 7x03 - Tommy and Buck meet on the day of the rescue, even before we see Buck, Chim and Eddie in the chopper. They first meet off-screen. We don't know what happened then, we don't know how they looked at each other, if they smiled at each other, if they even talked directly to each other. But they met before we see them in the chopper.

We know by what happens later that Tommy makes a strong impression on Buck (who is already in the middle of a real life crisis). We can also assume that Tommy is attracted to Buck based on his looks (and probably also affinity, they do the same job, never underestimate the homoerotic power of male camaraderie), something we also understand later, so it works (but also, the way he looks at Buck at the end of this episode is a subtle hint.) Don't forget that writers know in advance things we don't, that's why we can go back and find the breadcrumbs we didn't notice before or couldn't make a connection with yet.

🔥 Buck wants to know more about Tommy and his work. This is where you, as the audience, should fill the gap based on what we saw before and what comes next. This is where you should be able to do that instead of wanting everything on-screen the same way you put everything in a fanfic. This gap you fill because you're supposed to understand how average tv storytelling works leads to the following point.

🚁 7x04 - Buck contacts Tommy, he gets to visit Harbor. At this point, we can clearly see Tommy is acting flirty in a very subtle and respectful way, because he doesn't really know what's the deal with Buck, but remember the way he looked at Buck in 7x03? Then there's Buck acting... weird. What's his real purpose here? And this was before he even knew Tommy and Eddie were BFF, so Buck was already attracted to Tommy whatever his connection with the 118 crew, even if the real reason was blurry even to Buck himself.

🔥 7x04 - Tommy is now someone they interact with regularly. Tommy is now slowly working his way (back) into the 118 group. He finds a good friend in Eddy (strangely I don't see anyone questioning that. How is that easier than having a simple, passive crush?), apparently spends a lot of time with him, and knows Christopher because he went to Eddie's house 3 times. Eddie definitely knows more about Tommy than Buck at this point.

🚁 7x04 - Buck is clearly troubled by Tommy. Then there's this whole jealousy circus going on, Buck is a mess, his insecurities are breaking the roof and he's more troubled than ever. Is he jealous of Eddy or Tommy? Or both? (it's both) He wants to be the center of the attention. If he feels he's losing this, people will discard him. So he does some stupid shit. And you can see his feelings are also all over the place. But there's more than just fighting for attention, and that's probably why he's slowly starting to be angry. Because what he feels is different and he can't put his finger on it.

The discussion with Maddie clearly shows how he's chewing on his own heart. He didn't want what he had to change and he acted like a kid with big feelings and little control of himself.

🔥 7x04 - Tommy, who's having a passive crush on Buck, takes the matter in hands and kisses him. Tommy having a crush is not less normal than Buck flirting with basically any cute girl showing interest in him. Being more mature, he meets Buck to set things straight, after having talked about it with Eddie. It's not out of nowhere. Eddie and Tommy are not stupid, and Eddie knows Buck. He saw something was wrong. Tommy, being the new addition to their dynamic, thought it was his fault (I think Eddie and Tommy really felt guilty about going to Vegas and leaving Buck just like that lmao That was so bad for Buck's confidence, I felt it in my bones). Excuses turn to clearing the air turn to let's go for it.

Tommy really took a gamble there. If Buck wasn't what he thought he was, it could have been so bad. So, so bad for Tommy and his job. Imagine Buck accusing Tommy of assault? But he took the risk of kissing him because he has more experience and knows how to read the signs. He's not 15, he has experience with men, and closeted men for sure.

And you know, this is a beautiful scene for Buck as a character. The way he realizes why he did all that, what it means about him, for him. I mean, he knew, in a way, but he didn't know. And Tommy was suddenly everywhere in his life, overwhelming while doing nothing. You have to understand that everything is happening in Buck's head and he needed just a little push to open his eyes.

Buck's queer path: unlocked.

🚁 7x05 - First date, first mess but also first lesson. At this point, you can't even doubt about Tommy's intentions anymore. Buck might still be in a blurry phase but Tommy is not sending mixed signals at all (not with that choice of shirt, let me tell you this. My man was set to hit that night). Buck panicked, Tommy even tried to keep him on tracks for the evening, but between meeting Eddie and what it made Buck say... I mean, Tommy could have had a stronger reaction. Why accept the date if you can't deal with it?

But Tommy knows why, he's been there. Buck liked the idea of the date, but once you're there, everything becomes real. So once again, a little push: Tommy is honest and prefers to part ways, but not without saying why. He's not even mad. At this point, Buck really needs to take another step. It's difficult to drag someone else into your own fog. He has all the rights to be troubled, to doubt, to be scared, but you don't drag someone else in this with you. Tommy protected himself from that, also protected Buck from doing something he'd regret, and he did it with guidance.

🔥 7x05 - Buck talks with Maddie about his date and comes out to her, but most importantly: Buck comes out to Eddie. Look. This is canon, and I know we can choose to ignore canon but both scenes are great. And it's still canon. Maddie is obviously accepting and happy for Buck, and we expected no less from her.

With Eddie, I honestly expected at least some discussion like are you sure? or something like that but I think that at this point, everyone at the 118 knows that there's more to Buck than meets the eye. I'd have loved this scene to be longer with more exchange between Eddie and Buck but it is what it is, and Eddie is supportive of his best friend (yes, sorry, their canon relationship is best friends and I love their friendship, even more now that Buck is out).

And yes, this is even more important to show not only a strong friendship between a supposedly cishet man and a bisexual man but also, and we'll see that later, Eddie still trusts Buck around Chris. Nothing changed. So many people associate queer people with predators, we need to see queer people, and especially queer men, being trusted around children, and being safe. This is the right representation.

I know bvddies are trying to find any reason to make this storyline choice look like shit, because they want their ship to sail (and I completely understand wanting that), but accusing the people who like Buck and Tommy together of being homophobes because they cherish the canon beautiful friendship between Buck and Eddie?? We're not talking about headcanons here, about reading between the lines, or being "coded" a certain way (sorry, for me Eddie is not gay-coded. He's a-spec for sure, and I'm going for being demi, but gay? I don't see it anymore at this point of the show). It's about the canon. You know, at this point, things are already moving into place, even if you don't like Buck and Tommy together. This is where canon is at, this is the story. It's not a personal attack against anyone in the fandom.

🚁 7x05 - Buck wants to apologize to Tommy for the failed date, and for his behavior. Oh, accountability, my beloved. We love to see Buck working on himself. This is the real start of whatever will happen from now on between Buck and Tommy. Buck knows he's ready to embrace this new part of himself and he feels like Tommy is the right person to do that with.

Tommy being Tommy, he makes sure Buck knows what all this means. Buck is not a teenager, Tommy treats him as an equal but he also knows how it feels to be in Buck's shoes.

🔥 7x06 - Tommy, a responsible adult, makes time for Buck (and Chim!) even when he clearly could, and maybe should, just decline. This part was used way too often against Tommy by BoBs. Tommy is a fire pilot on call the night of the bachelor party. A FIRE PILOT ON CALL. Do you think his main goal that night is to have fun? Or is it to be a responsible adult who could well be saving lives (while risking his) the same night? Do you know what it means to be on call? You're basically working without being at work, the second your job needs you, you have to be 100% ready. Again, he's a fire pilot (even if he's also sent on ground work that night). His first job would be to pilot a freaking helicopter and accomplish tasks that requires skills, precision and to not be half asleep. You don't play with that responsibility.

So Tommy showing up is indeed huge. He does it for Buck, and for Chim, but definitely for Buck in the first place. He could have stayed home to get some sleep while waiting. Instead of that, not only he doesn't sleep but he ends up fighting a fire for hours. And the first thing people used against him was that he didn't follow the dress code?! No, you guys need to grow up and live a bit more of real life.

And then we have The Kiss (please someone draw them as The Kiss by Klimt, every fandom needs its Kiss fanart). And once again, it's Tommy making time for Buck, and Chim, when he could be home, take a good shower and be in his cozy bed after working on a fire for more than what, 14 hours? This is a man who knows his priorities. And responsible men are sexy as hell, even when it means they can't have fun like everyone else.

Now, if after all this, and mind you, this is all canon, you still think Tommy is a fraud in this storyline, that his budding romance with Buck has no foundation or that he doesn't care about Buck? And don't even get me started on the "but he was a racist and a misogynist before". Yes, he was. And yes, he changed. Like I said: learn to know his character, but also trust Hen. The fact is that at this point of the story, Tommy is great for Buck. He's kind, he's safe, he's trying even when there's no expectations. Be happy for great representation.

Oh, and don't use your hate against the ship or Tommy to be a nasty little shit with the actors and writers. Decency is free.

[a-doubleh-x]

Buttonblossom Analysis in TADC Episode 2

(Background rainbows: hint, hint)

Ragatha was so sweet to Pomni in episode 2 🥺💖 Most people caught onto the obvious fact that Raggs is being codependant and leans onto toxic positivity on the way she tries to cheer up Pomni, but I still think for the most part her heart is in the right place.

I liked their dynamic in episode 1, but I liked it so much in 2 I decided to write a little analysis on it (plus the ship fuel 👀) in preparation for the romance fic I'm writing about them.

Without further ado, let's go!

Looking back at Ragatha, on the good side, she made some very strong, active efforts to help her during her transition into the digital realm. She checked first thing in the morning if she was okay, she tried to make her feel included in the adventure at the beginning and showed care for her safety overall.

My favorite scene, though, is when the circus gang falls into the fudge river and after checking in on them, the first thing she says is: "Poor Pomni!" 😭 Girlie is so empathetic she even manages to care for someone who's not even there, while she's in a terrible situation herself!

I think this proves how much of a good person Raggs is. She doesn't just help people to feel good or superior, she does it because she geniuenly cares for other people's wellbeing and I find that very noble 😊

On the negative side, she seems to have some very particular communication issues with Pomni, even though she seems to be the circus memeber she cares the most about at the moment.

For starters, her attitude comes off as a little condescending very often. She hardly asks questions to Pomni and tends to assume for her. She hardly acknowledges some of her struggles and tries to downplay them, like when she degrades their experience as "larping". Also, she makes Pomni feel like a child when she tries to "hype her up" in her own words.

If we take Pomni's nightmare into consideration, it seems she believes Ragatha thinks Pomni is not "cut out for it", which might be a result of her condescending behavior I just mentioned.

This makes sense to me and also sheds a little bit of light on how Pomni sees herself as: small and insignificant. It's unclear at the moment how she was before on the physical world, but I speculate based on this evidence she probably didn't think she had much agency in her life (just how she feels in the circus).

At the end, however, thanks to her experience with Gummigoo and looking at the crew grief over Kaufmo's abstraction, Pomni opens herself more to the crew, which is a very good sign.

I think her current dynamic with Ragatha is wicked cool! ✨️ There's a lot of room for growth, which is good in my opinion. Ragatha clearly cares a lot about Pomni and I think with time she could grow to reciprocate her as well.

Despite her cowardness in episode 1, I always had the feeling that Pomz was deep down a caring individual as well, which was solidly proven in 2 with her interactions with Gummi.

On the fanon side, I saw a lot of fans foaming at the mouth (myself included) over the fact that Ragatha was such a tryhard with Pomni (which was anticipated to be the contrary). Some fans have interpreted their potential dynamics as both being shy, which I really, really like.

I believe I will definitely include that in my future fanfic. Another idea I wanted to explore is Pomni talking to Ragatha about her overbearing issues, while still appreciating her good qualities at the same time.

I think it's going to be great ☺️❤ I already look forward to what the end result is going to be. I love mutual pining and I love sweet lesbians caring for each other (even when they're silly girlfails). I'm planning to start by submitting chapter 1 by next Friday and submit a new one every following one, as I've done before.

Get ready for digital lesbian shenanigans 🎪💙🎀 See ya!

[watermelonlovershigh]

The Rated R Card Game {part 6.} (housemate!harry series)

Returning Favors {part 5.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: this part took me the longest to write because i couldn't get the wording right and kept having to switch things up. this is mainly a filler chapter meaning not much happens but will be needed for context later in the series. i hope you enjoy. let me know what you think. thank you for reading.

This story contains: mentions of bisexuality, mentions of threesomes, mentions of kissing, mentions of mommy and daddy kink, mentions of sexual stuff in general, mentions of a safe word being used, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - soft!harry - au!harry }

word count- 1,977

Your friends Mave and Charlotte come over to yours and Harry's house to eat pizza, drink wine, chat, and play a very rated R card game.

Friday has finally arrived and you are filled with excitement. Your friends Mave and Charlotte are coming over to meet Harry for the first time. After spending a few hours working on your computer, you got up and started tidying around Harry's living room, which was already clean as he maintains a fairly tidy house. You took out the card game you intend to play tonight and set it on the coffee table. The only thing left is the alcohol, but Harry will be picking some up on his way home from work.

After leaving the school where he teaches at, Harry drove to a nearby shop and obtained the wine you had requested. You'd asked Charlotte and Mave about their choice of alcohol and they recommended wine to prevent themselves from getting too intoxicated by stronger spirits. Upon arriving home, Harry placed the wine bottles in the refrigerator to chill, and then hurriedly went to take a quick shower.

At approximately seven o'clock, your friends arrived at your home via Uber, as they foresaw the possibility of becoming too intoxicated to drive home later in the night. You introduced them to Harry and they formed a liking to him instantly. In a playful manner, they whispered to you that they may just steal him away from you, that's how much they liked him. Plus, attractive wise, they thought he was hot.

Harry kindly ordered a pizza to the house and the four of you gathered in the living room, indulging in the large pizza accompanied by several glasses of wine. Essentially, you all spent a delightful two hours eating, drinking, and having great conversations in the living room. Mave and Charlotte made quite the impression on Harry. They were incredibly easy to be around and had a remarkable talent for lightening the atmosphere with their jokes, especially during moments of high tension. They possessed a fearless nature and were never hesitant to speak their minds.

Once everyone was stuffed with pizza, you pick up the card game you had sat on the coffee table earlier in the day and announce, "Okay, game time."

"How does this game work exactly?" Harry asks, followed by a giggle. Yep, he was definitely tipsy.

You open the box and pull out the stack of cards. You know there's a correct way to play this game but you wanted to make up your own rules, just to spice things up. "Okay, so basically I'm gonna leave the stack of cards in the middle of the table. We'll each take turns picking a card but to make it fun, we all have to potentially answer every question, no matter who pulled it. Each card has either questions or something we must confess. If you don't feel comfortable answering one then you must take a sip of wine. Got it?"

"Seems easy enough." Charlotte exclaims with a clap of her hands.

"Hey, can I pick first?" Mave asks eagerly and you all agree.

As everyone sits around the coffee table on the floor, Mave reaches for the top card and giggles as she silently reads it. "You've got to actually read it out loud." Charlotte remarks in a sassy tone.

"Okay, okay," Mave retorts before repeating what the card says out loud this time. "Have you ever made out with a guy in the back of a car before?"

You, Mave, and Charlotte each say "yes" with confidence before stealing a glance towards Harry, hoping to gauge his response to the question. To your surprise, he appears bewildered and voices his confusion. "What kind of questions are these? I was expectin' somethin' light-hearted, not about romantic encounters," he queries.

You pick up the game's box and point to the bottom right corner where it shows the R rating. Once he notices, he mutters an, "Oh fuck!", taking a swig of his red wine for dramatic effect. "But um, yes I have."

Charlotte and Mave are surprised to learn that he's kissed a guy. Not in a judgmental way but they are genuinely shocked considering how much you confide in them about Harry's feelings for you. It seems you forgot to mention that Harry was bisexual, but then realize it's not your place to inform them of that anyways. Charlotte boldly questions Harry, "You've made out with a guy before?"

Harry nods his head in agreement and casually states, "Yes, m' bisexual. Y/n didn't inform you of that?" Though he knows one's sexuality isn't something people tend to share, he knew you shared nearly everything with these two friends so he's surprised you didn't let his sexuality slip up in a conversation before. But knowing you didn't share makes him feel all warm inside. It shows how much you care and respect him.

The woman shakes her head to indicate she was unaware. Harry typically never feels anxious about sharing his bisexuality as he finds that most individuals are accepting or simply don't care. Although he occasionally encounters negative reactions, mostly from the people he's seeing, he makes an effort to try and not allow those to affect him.

"My turn," you announce, reaching for the next card to advance the game. "Ohhh, a confession. How intriguing. Do you tend to be more dominant or submissive in bed? Mhm...... as for me, it's quite simple. I can be either, depending on my mood."

"No way," Harry interjects, "m' also a switch. Just depends on the person and the mood m' in at that moment." As you glance at one another, you can feel a secret message being conveyed through just your eyes alone. One that's saying you're meant to be. A perfect match, some would consider. Because it's rare for both people in a relationship to be dominate some times and submissive other times.

Mave and Charlotte affirm they're both complete submissives, leaving Harry to select the next card. "Tell us about the most outrageous experience you've had during a sexual encounter. Uhm, let me think on that for a moment."

"Oh, I know." Mave speaks, "For me, I'd have to say being double penetrated."

"You what?" you gasp at her answer, unaware of this encounter she's had. She usually tells you everything but you guess she's been keeping this one a secret.

With a playful giggle, she admits, "Back in uni, I had a few threesomes, and one of them involved double penetration. It was painful at first but the pleasure that followed was incredible." Her confession triggers a vivid image of you in Harry's mind, arousing him at just the thought of having a threesome with you. But he wonders if you were open to that idea.

"Personally, I tied a man to the bed once and rode him while he wore a cock ring. Although it was pleasurable for me, the man experienced tons of discomfort. So I decided to let him come after an hour." you answer the question. It wasn't super outrageous but you weren't that freaky in bed. Again, all Harry can think about is you doing that to him and at this point he has to set one of the couch pillows in his lap without looking too suspicious. He's now actually hard in his pants.

After thinking for a minute more, Harry's ready to answer. "I guess my answer would be, this one time I let a girl fuck my throat with her strap-on. Let's just say my throat was bruised for days." Fuck, now it's you conjuring up images of possibly doing that to Harry. You don't own a strap-on but you sure as hell would go out and buy one if he agrees.

Charlotte optes to taking a drink of wine instead of answering and then picks a card beings it's her turn now. "Have you ever had to use your safeword during sex? Thankfully no. What about you all?"

Harry and Mave both said no as their answer, whereas you, on the contrary, chose to take a sip of wine. You could have easily said the truth, which would have been yes, but then would've had to provide an explanation for their curious minds. And you'd prefer not to do that in front of everyone, especially as it regards the situation where you had to use your safe word. It evokes a very unpleasant memory. Nevertheless, you can see a compassionate expression on Harry's face and have a feeling he'll bring it up at a later time.

The game continues with questions like, "Where is the most unusual place you have engaged in sexual activity?" "What is your preferred sexual position?" "Have you ever accidentally called out the wrong name during sex?" "Do you secretly have a mommy or daddy kink?" Harry's responses were as follows: in a club bathroom, preferring missionary with women to see their expressions and opting for the doggy style with men, almost moaning the wrong name (which happened to be yours), and has only ever jokingly used the terms daddy or mommy if his partner was interested in that kind of stuff.

Your responses to those particular questions consisted of: the bathtub, missionary or spooning position, almost saying Harry's name but correcting yourself before it was on the verge of slipping out, (though you didn't share to them it was Harry whoms name it was), and lastly, although you're not actually into the whole kink, you've humorously said daddy once to cater to your partner's wishes. Which made you cringe so bad immediately after.

By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, all of you were considerably intoxicated. Though most of you managed to answer every question, you've still been continuously sipping from your wine glasses with multiple refills. In a drunken manner, your friends suggested, "Maybe we should call an umb... uber...."

Rising on wobbly legs, Harry retorts, "Why don't you both stay if you want? I'm sure Y/n wouldn't mind you sleepin' in her bed, and she can sleep with me in mine. That way you won't have to go home drunk." Harry is literally the sweetest.

"You sure?" Mave asks, looking at both of you for confirmation.

You nod, agreeing, "Yeah, yeah. That's fine. Just don't puke in my bed, please." remembering all the times where they've gotten sick from being too drunk.

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

With Mave and Charlotte settled in your bed, you made your way to Harry's room across the hall. He was busy arranging the pillows and covers. Just as you were about to join him in bed, you remembered, "Wait a minute, I need to use the bathroom."

Harry bursts into laughter. "Is that so? You didn't realize that when you were in the hallway?"

"Hey, no laughing at me!" You exit the room and hurry to the bathroom located in the hallway. Upon your return, Harry is already tucked in under the duvet, with only the lamp providing a dim light. As you join him, and he reaches over to switch off the lamp.

Now in the dark bedroom, Harry shuffles closer to you for a cuddle and whispers, "You're not gonna puke in my bed are you?"

You playfully swat at his chest and confirm, "No, I'm not that drunk, silly. But I will have a killer headache in the morning. Night."

"Night, sleep tight." Harry leans in and plants a tender kiss on your lips, momentarily catching you off guard. However, you quickly embrace the intimate moment, realizing that receiving these small, affectionate kisses from him for no specific reason is something you should start getting accustomed to. After all, it's a typical aspect of being in a relationship, isn't it?

As you gradually drift off to sleep, your mind becomes consumed by the lingering sensation of Harry's lips meeting yours and the burning curiosity to discuss the explicit answers he provided during the rated R card game earlier.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

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My Masterlist Masterpost

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

ITS NOT MIDNIGHT ANYMORE . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x apollo!fem!reader!

warnings: swearing + derogatory names i think thats about it

a/n: alrighty!! we're here for the final round of this whole part series thingamajig. i kinda put this off cause i know luke's gotta make a whole oscar worthy speech and i was worried my writing wouldn't cut it lol. but anyhoo i hope you enjoy!!

part one: midnight troubles | part two: meet me at midnight

what.

the.

fuck?

wait... no yeah, what the fuck?

"what?" your voice is quiet and you turn around slowly, your eyes narrowed.

"...because, i- i love you,"

"you're telling me that you don't want to be friends... because you love me?" you eye luke. "you think you can just say you love me and i'll throw myself at your feet and all with be right again?" you take a menacing step forward. "you think you can tell me a lie and get out of this?"

luke's eyes shine with an unrestrained emotion you can't quiet place. "you think i'm lying?"

another step forward. "yes."

luke takes a hesitant step forward. "im not," his voice is soft.

"you are."

"i'm not."

"bullshit."

the look in luke's eyes cause you to hesitate for a moment. is he actually being serious right now?

"then what the fuck luke?" your arms fly out and you drop them. "what in the ever-loving-actual-fuck is wrong with you?" you shake your head and try to repress the anger bubbling beneath your skin. "you think you can just throw this shit in my face? i've been in love with you for years. years. do you see me acting like the worlds biggest asshole? no! do you see me freezing up when someone calls my best friend a slut or a whore? no! do you see my trying to get out of this whole fucked up situation by telling my best friend that i don't want to be their friend and that i'm in love with them? NO!" you heave you breath coming out harshly.

"w-what?"

"i-i'm just done luke," you say quickly barely even noting you'd just told him you love him in your anger.

"y/n-"

"i'm done!" you snap stepping back from him. "i'm giving you until tomorrow afternoon to sort your shit out, and work out whatever the fuck you want to say or do. but after that, we're done. this-" you motion between the two of you- "is done. luke and y/n? over. we're fucking done. you've got," you look down at your watch. "like eighteen hours, and considering how long it takes you to answer, you better get cracking." you roll your eyes and walk away from the twinkling glow of the fairy lights. not even caring when you step in a puddle from percy's shenanigans earlier today. not even caring that it's dark.

your world has been dark for a week.

~~~

everyone in camp could tell you and luke had some sort of falling out. it was obvious when you didn't sing this morning, it was obvious when you didn't come and watch him train, it was obvious when you had brushed past him and he had looked torn, it was most definitely obvious when luke had somehow managed to be bested during sword sparring.

and that was what had set campers off.

sides had started to be chosen and feuds had started to form.

chaos was brewing already and it had only been a day. rumours about what happened - curtesy of the grape bitch, you wanna say phyllis..? - had formed and spread like wildfire.

it was almost scary how much unknown power you both had over campers.

so now you're sitting on the beach watching as the waves lap against the shore contemplating if you should just hunt luke down and smack him instead of talking - it seems really reasonable you guys.

"hey..." a deep voice comes from behind you.

"hello."

luke's warm presence appears behind you and it takes everything in you to not lean into it.

"so..." you start, hoping luke gets the idea.

"so yeah..." luke sighs. "y/n, please, listen to me- no hear me out okay? just let me get this all out and then you can yell at me." he takes a deep breath and lets it all out in one go.

"i love you. i've loved you since the day you showed up at camp all grumpy and refusing to socialise with anyone except me. i love the way your singing can create immense peace, i love the way you scrunch your nose whenever you get embarrassed. i love the way your face lights up when campers come and talk to you. you're a star in the night sky, shining brighter everyday. you're my best friend and im hopelessly- desperately in love with you. i have been since forever. and i'm the world biggest asshole for letting the shit that went down last week happen. please, please, forgive me. i'll do anything."

your heart burns with every word he says. luke's eyes shine with barely unrestrained emotion and his face is the epitome of adoration.

you're both so wrapped up in his words that you don't notice the small gathering of campers at the edge of the sand watching the two of you. each of them, though they've chosen sides luke or y/n, they all hope for the same thing.

luke lifts his hand and gently tucks a stray curl behind your ear. "please say something."

"um..." you breathe, struggling to find the right words to say. "wow."

luke looks at you so earnestly it hurts your heart.

"luke... i love you. i. love. you. do you get that? i've been practically obsessed with you since i showed up at camp. and you fucking hurt me last week, some big speech isn't going to change that."

"y/n," luke starts.

"luke listen to me please." you breathe out shakily. "i don't want to lose you, but i can't- i just can't-" you're cut off when luke's soft lips press onto yours.

the kiss is soft, searching, hopeful. you lean into it slightly and the campers watching nearby silently start to celebrate.

but then you come to your senses.

pulling away, you look at luke with tears in your eyes. "no luke, no. you can't kiss me and make it all go away. you cant just kiss your way out of this. i love you and its tearing me apart."

"y/n," his voice is filled with anguish.

"its physically hurting me luke. it hurts." tears are freely streaming down your face now. "it hurts so fucking much that the one person i trusted to stand up for me, the one person i trusted with my whole being can't even defend me in a petty situation like that. how am i supposed to move on from this knowing my best friend in everything can't even stand up for me?"

tears shine in luke's eyes.

"so no luke. no. i don't care what you have to say anymore. this-" you motion between the two of you. "is done. im done. i love you but i love myself more."

you stand up then, tears falling down your face like waterfalls. "see ya round lukey."

two broken words a wrenched from luke's throat then. "no. please."

"i'm sorry..."

a/n pt2: ummm soo im very sorry for that yeah.... sorry about that ending of the series (if its wanted enough i'll make another part maybe possibly)

TAGLIST: @iammightsadyall, @y0urm0m12, @just35yrsandtrying, @kaceyh24, @dancing-inasnowglobe, @purplerose291, @shoyofroyoyoyo, @purple-imaginess, @spqrkles, @itz-lilywelch, @d1lf-loverrr, @cassiopeia-core