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#god i want my own suit so badly
skitskatdacat63 · 11 months
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I don't think I'll ever reach the peak gender again of wearing a 3 piece suit to prom
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monsterbisexual · 1 month
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the silt verses: chapter 34
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chapter 38
#p#tsv#the silt verses#im being so brave n tagging this + making it rb-able. i think#posting this for my own benefit cuz it made me go nuts (positive) when i listened to ch 38 n got to this part#i was like WAIT THIS REMINDS ME OF SMTH#n then i found the right ep to check the transcript for the first one n i was like YESSSS >:)#this podcast dude.....im eating it its eating me we're (cant spell the O word) snake eating self thing#this is like. what if we were both prophets of our faith (in different ways i think)#n bargaining w our god for the safety of our loved ones#basically threatening it w the power we have over it#And we were both trans??? :O#Also! how theyre both v like jaded abt their god when they started w good intentions (paige)#or like such zealous belief n feel the bad actions u do are justified by ur faith n its for ur god etc (faulkner but i worded it badly)#now that im rambling here: anyway i do miss that faulkner era sldjk like hes still doing fucked up stuff ofc#but at this point he admitted he doesnt feel the same abt the trawler man n is maybe more like carpenter at the beginning of the series#ok 38 made me cry it was wild actually. the stuff w his dad got me dude!!!#him telling raine that hes wanted to like confront his dad for not being around for him+his brothers n basically abandoning him eventually#but now that theyre together again he cant cuz his dad isnt even like. himself sometimes n needs to be looked after etc#this podcast is great w complicated parental/family relationships i think. faulkner n his alive brother+dad#paige w her dad + carpenter w nana glass#anyway back to 38 lol n when faulkner had to comfort his dad who thought he was his abusive uncle not his son n kept repeating#''i love u. im not him'' jeeeeez#then when his dad is more coherent n they have a long talk abt how faulkner (richard lol) has been n that he thinks hes rly fucked things u#<- CORRECT#OHH n the trans stuff omg like 'ur voice is deeper than last time i saw u' n feelin bad he couldnt afford#testosterone when faulkner was younger n stuff n saying how he looks n sounds suits him n skdjdk wah#ok posting this before i can regret it byeee
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1980ssunflower · 2 years
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aouhhh 🥺💖💙🥰
#ot3: ❤rhyme💛easy💙#tape entry circa 1980#ngl ive been feeling like a bit sad like... i just miss them sm hfdjks#i just wish so SO soso so badly that i could go home to them both back in the 80s#to be w the loves of my life but ALSO to have someone i can talk music to and we can just talk abt music for hours <33#i can just talk abt it to them and theyll completely understand and give their own thoughts abt whatever song/band/album im talking abt#and id love to hear them go on long insane rants abt their own favorite albums and for them to show me a new album they listened to#something theyd know i like cause we love the same music genres#fuck i just miss them so much... they understand me more than anyone and get along w me more than ANYONE#i couldnt even try to imagine a person who better suites me than them even if i tried to create the perfect person for me#they just ARE already the epitome of perfection for me like we were made to know and love eachother to get along so well to be inseparable#i love them... god i love them both so much just thinking about them always makes me cry#i almost never cry its only ever because of them that i cry...#i miss them so so fucking much i keep thinking about them throughout the day#just imagining me being w them to be able to kiss and hold them and show them just how much i love them both#actually today i was picturing them here w me which is something i never do#i just love and miss them... i feel lonely and just ah... idk i wish i could go off on an adventure w them rn#i want to escape the life im living rn and just run off on the road w them chasing after our dream of being rockstars#tbh id also just love to experience the train together and get to see all that crazy stuff yknow? would make good song writing material lol#idk i feel like i cant truly get into how much i truly love and miss them w/o sounding super depressed and pathetic tbh#so i keep holding myself back from really expressing how i feel abt them
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I really. Should sit down and figure out what to do with Shilo in my Fourth World canon
#Shilo norman is the fourth world character most aggressively screwed over except for maybe forager#It's hard for me to get a hold on him and that's because no two takes on him have been remotely the same#And I dont want to default to mr miracle v1 canon like i normally do bc shilo's backstory in that REALLY didnt age well#I like the source of freedom's take on him best I think but it completely loses his connection to scott and also fuck n'vir free#That leaves like. Mr miracle v2's shilo. Which is just.#Well. Choices were made#There's a reason most ppl have ignoreed mr miracle v2's take on shilo's personality and backstory and just kept him becoming mr miracle#I think my biggest problem with Shilo is that what I find interesting about him is not at all a character angle canon wants to explore#Ie I like the idea of Shilo as a mortal among gods#What does it mean to pick up a mantle that's shared with/was previously held by a god?#I rlly liked the initial thing in mr miracle v2 where rhey made him create his own tech for the suit bc he didnt have a motherbox#To me that's FAR more fascinating as a concept than what they ultimately ended up going with re: motherbox accepting him#Which I always found badly executed anyway like I think it was a really bad move to try and draw direct parallels between shilo and scott#I'm sorry a teen runaway mom leaving her newborn kid at the doorstep of an orphanage is not a betrayal!! Tf did you want her to do!!!#Anyway. Moving on#And then the source of freedom did away with the godly aspect of the mister miracle legacy entirely#And I rlly do like how cutting out scott enabled the story to focus on thaddeus brown and issues of race#The source of freedom is a very good take on shilo but still#I cant help but feel dissappointed nobody has rlly seemed to see shilo the same way as me ie a man among gods#Idk I still havent read all shilo comics im missing some notable exceptions so maybe I'll find it yet#But this lack of interest in framing shilo the way I believe would be the most interesting rlly does make it hard for me#To figure out what to do with him in my canon#My posts#Shilo norman
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pantestudines · 2 years
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Fighting and straining and grasping my own hands in an attempt not to be a bit of a socialist/natural scientist while critiquing a poem for an intro to writing class
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP fanfic idea: Ecto-Specialist
Danny Fenton gets sent by his parents as a Fenton Ecto-Specialist at the request of the Justice League. They would have gone themselves, but unfortunately, every other Fenton had come down with the flu.
Danny was happy about his ghost immune system because this meant he could present Ghosts in a much more favorable light. He left behind all his parents' weapon blueprints and research reports.
He switched them out with his PowerPoint, ghost notes, and interviews he managed to obtain from the friendlier spiris. He arrived to the Hall of Justice, was given a special access pass and was told to set up in a board room.
He nervously plugged everything in, smooth down his suit, and practiced his speech. He's given presentations before, but they have always been school assignments. It was still nerve-wracking, but at least everyone else had to give the exact same topic for the same five to six minutes requirement.
Here, he was going to speak before some of the best heroes of the world to convince them that ghosts were sentiment. To prove they should have rights.
No pressure.
"Hello, I'm Danny Fenton. I'm going to speak about Ecto-beings and their vast culture within the Infinite Realms, " He says to the empty chairs. He pauses for a moment before, as if though he was gathering the attention of a audience before pressing the clicker abd watching his slide move.
"What are Ecto-beings?" He makes a gesture, that he once saw Tim Drake do on TV. It was a smooth wrist roll that he thought look sophisticated. "They can come in all shapes and sizes. Some are naturally formed from their environment, others are born to Ecto-beings and a few or deceased spirits. But they all share a core build from ectoplasm. That's what classifieds them as-"
"Maybe start but explaining what ectoplasm is" a voice cuts him off. Danny is not proud of the high pitch scream that releases from his throat. He is even less proud that he jumps so badly, he ends up tripping over his feet and falling over.
Bell-like laughter, fills the air, and Danny swings his head to the doorway only to further choke on his spit. Standing there looking like a Greek god is Tim Drake.
The very person he was attempting to imitate.
"Are you the Fenton Works representative?" Drake asks, strutting in with a wink. "I'm here on Wayne Enterprises behalf. We may be doing a joint charity effort for Ecto-beings rights. I'm Timothy Drake. And you?"
"I ugh, I'm Danny. Ugh- Danny Fenton. My parents own Fenton Works." He scrambles to his feet, flushing dark red when Drake smiles. "I'm presenting today. I was um practicing?"
"You're doing great" Drake assures. "Just remember to not stand in front of the screen. You want people to ready your bullet points."
"Oh." Danny drags his podium over. He cringes when he realizes that causes it yo scrap against the floor, leaving two long lines.
Drake's grin widens. "It has wheels. You just press the little lever on the right"
Danny wants to die "right. Sorry"
"Nothing a wax machine can't fix." Drake tilts his head, studying his face before asking,"Want to get a quick coffee to calm your nerves? They sell a great brand in the cafeteria"
Danny rubs his hands "Coffee makes me more nervous but thank you"
Drake's smile flatters before it switches back. "Icecream then?"
"No thank you. I run cold naturally and ice cream makes it worse"
".....how about afterwards? We could go watch a moive? Dinner?"
"I would, but I'm supposed to stay in the hotel my parents rented for me. They'll know if I'm not."
The other teen nods and looks a bit disappointed. "Alright, you can't blame a guy for trying . Well, good luck with your practice. I'll be back in an hour for the presentation."
Dannybwaves goodbye, trying to slow his fluttering heart rate. He just spoke to Tim Drake! He can't wait to text Sam and Tucker.
It's only after re-running the presentation once, about thirty minutes later, that Danny jolts in place "HE WAS ASKING ME OUT?!"
"Who was?"
For the second time that day, Danny released a high pitch scream. It's much worse to find Wonder Woman fighting a amused smile standing in the doorway instead of a Teenage Hearttob.
He hasn't even started. Maybe he should have fake being sick, too.
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paddedlittleparadise · 2 months
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"I like you better like this."
Mona's words, soft and breathy, shiver through you. You can't help it. You find yourself unable to look away from her warm brown eyes… her mesmerizing smile… the greedy hunger written across her face. Her hands, soft and cool, tighten on your bare shoulders. And wordlessly, your body quivers in abject, devoted response.
"Uhh… huuuh…?"
It's just a whimper. A sweet, pathetic, questioning little whimper. But as it leaves your parted lips, the light in Mona's eyes grows brighter. "Of course I love you no matter what, darling. But you're so… perfect like this. No silly grownup clothes. No makeup. No glasses, no perfume. Just you… and your diaper. A pretty, naked little babydoll…" Her breath hitches, and the next words betray the husky arousal blossoming within her. "For me."
For me. The simple words crash over you with all the thrilling force of an ocean wave. Between your own thighs, down beneath the rustling surface of the babyish padding she's just given you, you sense your own unbidden excitement building. For her, yes. I'll be anything, do anything for her-
"Maybe it's silly," she admits now. The shivers of pleasure continue to race through you, redoubling as her fingers slip gently down to caress your naked left breast. "And I know you're new to this stuff. But it just… it suits you, you know? You're so small and sweet and perfect. And… and when I see you like this, actually wearing a diaper for me…" She trails off, and your lips part in mingled pain and delight as she pinches longingly on your nipple. "God, it's such a turn-on-"
Her chest heaves, squarely at your eye level. You feel a sudden, overpowering urge: an urge to bury your face in her breasts, to let their pillowy warm softness blot out all other sights and sounds. You quiver, eyes dropping from her face and shamefully, hungrily, at the paradise before you. You need to feel her skin on yours. You long for her scent to fill your senses. You yearn for her hands to twine in your long blonde hair, pulling you deeper and ever deeper into her…
"My sweet little baby," she murmurs, and a muted little whimper escapes you once more. Her hand is on your cheek now, cradling your face and raising it once more to gaze into hers. "You're my sweet, incredible little baby girl. Giving me her control. Giving me everything… trusting me… letting me tease her and train her…"
She leans closer now, and in every husky syllable you sense her lust. "You know… maybe I'll keep you like this all the time. Naked… in just a diaper-" The last word jerks out of her, and you shiver as her hands tighten on your bare shoulders once more. "Oh, fuck. You'd be so perfect. My twenty-four year-old baby, waddling naked around our apartment… cute and helpless and adorable… unable to do anything but dribble and leak into your pampers. Just-" She's practically salivating now, and her chest heaves once more. "Just like the sweet little baby you deserve to be…"
The mental image flashes before you: naked and infantile and ever so blush-inducing. It's unlike anything people say you should want, and yet… Oh, how badly you want it right now! You need it. You need to please her, to obey her. Right now you want nothing more than to do exactly as she wants: waddle, crawl, piddle, coo, drool… whatever. Because she's Mona. She's your fiancée. And no matter how strange it might be, you sense that she's showing you the way to a happiness unlike anything you've ever had.
And so, you blink up into her face. You flash a shaky smile. And you confess the truth that erupts from your very core…
"I like me better like this, too."
Image Credit: ABDreams.com (feat. the fabulous Apple and Odette Delacroix!)
Be sure to check out my Ream Stories if you want to read more of my naughty fiction!
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chvoswxtch · 10 months
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taste
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pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader
summary: matt just wants a taste.
warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
a/n: it’s thanksgiving here today, and despite my mixed feelings about this holiday, I am thankful for all of y’all. so, here’s a little treat from me to you bc I haven’t shown our favorite human disaster some love in awhile. 🖤
word count: 1.1k
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Matt lost track of how long he’d had his head buried between your thighs. Your hair was still damp from your shower earlier, fresh notes of citrus and green apple lingering on the silk sheets. That coupled with the crisp sandalwood of his own cologne from the worn Columbia shirt of his you had stolen to bed intertwined with your own distinct scent lit a fire of desire within him. He’d discarded a layer of his black suit with every silent step he took descending the staircase that led up to the rooftop door.
It had been a bad night, and Matt’s inherent Catholic guilt was at an all time high. So, he positioned himself exactly where he thought he belonged.
On his knees.
Matt held your soft thighs in his rough, calloused hands, his warm tongue lazily tumbling over your swollen clit over and over again. He slipped his tongue through your soaked folds much like he had the first time he had really kissed you; when a sweet kiss good night had ended with your back firmly pressed up against your front door and the two of you panting into each other's mouths.
Angelic pleas for mercy had sounded from your lips in various intervals, but your greedy fingers continued to tug him just a little closer by tight grips on his chestnut strands. Neither one of you seemed to be able to quit the other. Matt’s nose was nuzzled against your public bone, and his plump lips were wrapped around your clit, alternating between suckling languidly at a pace that made your eyes roll into the back of your head and dragging his tongue up and down the length of your entire pussy meticulously.
Every time you let out a desperate chant of his name and rolled your hips up in a needy way in search of more, Matt groaned loudly and moved his own hips in tandem. He had been rutting against the mattress for God only knows how long now, the front of his briefs completely soaked from the weeping slit on the head of his throbbing cock. He’d never been so painfully hard in his life.
But Matt didn’t feel like he had earned a release yet.
Despite the several tangy coats of your arousal on his tongue, he wanted more. He needed just a little more.
Just one more, he told himself, then he’d finally let himself fuck you. But right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be. Face nestled against your pussy, feeling your heartbeat pounding against his welcoming tongue, smelling the scent that was uniquely you right under his nose, hearing the verbal reassurances of how much you needed him, and how badly you wanted him.
Praises of his name and confessions of love slowly lifted the self imposed weight that laid heavy on his chest like cement. If an angel like you believed the Devil deserved Heaven, then maybe he did. You didn’t ask for his penance, but he wanted to give it. He wanted to be worthy of being the man you made him feel like he was.
Matt ignored the ache in his jaw, and he whimpered against your core as his briefs snagged against the sensitive head of his cock just right. He wasn’t gonna last long. Not with the heavenly aroma of you surrounding his senses completely, the sweet sound of your pleasure hitting his ears, the thrum of your impending climax thundering against his tongue.
He never wanted to come up for air. If this was how he was going to die, drowning in the tidal wave of your gratification, then he’d die a happy man.
Matt used his index and middle finger to spread your slicked pussy apart, eagerly swirling his tongue around your pulsing nub before switching to flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across it like a metronome. God, you were so warm and soft, and so fucking wet. He couldn’t tell where his saliva ended and where your own essence started, but he didn’t fucking care. The only taste he wanted seared into his taste buds was yours anyway.
He delved his tongue as deep within your cunt as he could, fucking you with it sensually while his nose bumped against your overstimulated clit repeatedly. You were close again. He could tell by the hitch in your breaths and the quiver in your soft thighs that were enclosed tightly around his head.
Matt never felt like he deserved you, so he made it his personal mission to make sure he earned you.
As soon as another wave of your candied tang drenched his mouth and dripped down his stubbled chin, Matt exploded with a pathetic whimper, feeling his own sticky warmth coating his lower abdomen and the tops of his thighs. The only reason he pulled his face away from your cunt was because you weakly pushed at his shoulders with your trembling hands.
“Fuckfuckfuck…Matty…I can’t. I-God, I need a minute-“
The breathless pants sounding from your lips were an elegant symphony to his ears. He closed his eyes while resting his head on your smooth thigh, trying to catch his own breath. For several minutes neither of you said anything, just laid there tangled up in the sheets together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.
All of a sudden, Matt sensed a shift in you. He heard your eyes flutter open, and felt the way you shifted your head off the pillow to peer down at him in curiosity.
“Matty…did…did you-“
“Yeah.”
He didn’t bother hiding it. He wasn’t ashamed. He’d be pissed when the cloud of lust currently fogging up his brain eventually cleared and he realized he ruined yet another set of silk sheets, but right now, he was too satisfied to give a shit about anything other than this moment with you.
A melodic giggle immediately erupted from your chest, and Matt squeezed your thigh teasingly in retaliation which caused you to squeal.
“Hey! I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s actually quite flattering that you enjoy having your head between my thighs so much that you can come from that alone.”
“Sweetheart, you could make me come just by reading our grocery list.”
Another round of angelic giggles fell from your lips, and a quiet whine of disapproval sounded from Matt when he felt you shifting in bed. Much to his dismay, you moved your soft and warm thigh away from under his head, which caused him to purse his plush lips in a pout. But before he could even protest, you were gently pushing him onto his back and brushing your lips against the shell of his ear.
“Maybe I’ll test that theory later, but right now, I’d rather make you come with my mouth in a different way.”
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @thyme-in-a-bubble @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts
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storiumemporium · 11 months
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Astarion As a Father
Fem!Tav/Reader
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I FINALLY GOT A NEW KEYBOARD WITH FULLY FUNCTIONING KEYS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I elected to write about something that's been giving me brainworms for ages, because I'd been talking about it with someone on here awhile ago and it just infested me. Astarion finding out you're pregnant and how he handles fatherhood. (Or, in this case, doesn't at first.) This isn't my best work but I blame it on the fact that I didn't intend for it to be THIS FUCKING LONG okay 😭
But without further ado, daddy Astarion:
Finding out:
When it comes to children, I think Astarion hasn't put much thought into it beyond 'me!? ABSOLUTELY NOT—'
He has no illusions about his state of mind and his faculties, you see. Astarion knows that he's fucked up, he knows that he's a problem, and he's only entirely too confident that any child unfortunately put under his care would likely end up just as damaged as he is, were they to miraculously make it to adulthood. He's just not equipped for it.
And, frankly, Astarion isn't even aware he can have children... That's just, not something he ever thought to question. He's undead, is he not? That should take care of the...fertility question.
Shouldn't it?
Truth be told, Cazador never told him of the possibilities because it was never meant to be a possibility. Astarion was too malnourished, his victims too short lived for anything to ever have come of it. He was supposed to die a sacrifice, not live to carry his own bloodline (hah) onward.
Were you to ever ask him about it, even jokingly over dinner one eve, he'd be very firm in the fact that it's a terrible idea and he'd be entirely unequipped. He would even go so far as to say he's the worst choice out of all of your past companions.
"Me? No. Absolutely not. I'm sure whatever little devil you managed to cook up would be the most charming child Baldur's Gate has ever seen... But even that magical explosive that fancied himself a God would be better suited to fatherhood, darling. I am built for luxury and adventure, nothing else." All bookended by typical Astarion preening.
So when the day comes and you inform him of the little life growing in your womb?
Nope. Not happening, not even a chance of happening.
The denial is strong with this one.
And when I say denial, I mean that Astarion well and truly blots out what you've said from his mind, as if it simply didn't happen at all. You never had the conversation, you never dropped the revelation, there is no child, he is not becoming a father.
It's not a lack of want— though he doesn't realize that yet— it's true, blinding terror. Before it was just a joke, just something for him to brush off with commentary about how terribly he'd do as a parent, better the uncle than anything else. But now it's a reality and to accept what you've said is to accept that he might well and truly destroy a child. But not just any, yours.
The traumas Astarion possesses heap onto his shoulders and slough off plentiful enough to make new oceans of it. Now, not only is he just beginning to regain his own autonomy, he's supposedly being given responsibility over a brand new life?
(It would only make sense for Astarion in retrospect, that the life you willingly sacrificed to nourish and nurture him would in turn allow him to grow a new life within you. The fool had just been too blind to consider it: The way, fresh off your blood, he could pull back from the delicate column of your throat and you would find his cheeks and ears and chest flushed with the loveliest shade of pink, eyes wide and soft and alive. The way his entire body would warm, going from corpse frigid to something just beneath normal. The way his once-still heart would slowly beat again.
He'd even asked you once- curled together on a familiar silken bed, foreheads touching and your hands clasped together between your chests- if you knew what it felt like to be so, so hungry that all you could even think about was about badly you wanted to eat? How food sounded so good that the desire became crossed and instead felt even more painful and nauseating? How it consumed your ability to make rational decisions, denied you the capacity to control your emotions?
He'd told you then, voice tender and timid and weak, that he'd felt like that every single day for two whole centuries, until the night you'd willingly laid down on that cot and put your life in his hands.
It was so simple really, of course you granted him the strength to create life. It was you.)
And of course it comes to a head before there is any chance at recovery. Your body begins to show the changes, you begin to swell, and Astarion only grows more avoidant and flighty. Because now he can't simply wipe the idea from his mind and continue on as if the child doesn't exist, the proof is there every single time he looks at you. He makes it very clear to you that he will not be returning to your side without a confrontation, a very potentially ugly one at that.
And ugly it is, explosive. Astarion hasn't truly had the time to recover from his life under Cazador, and all of those protective traits he grew remain sharp as ever, returning to the surface as if they'd never truly gone away to begin with. He sneers and hisses, tries his best to dig in and hurt you enough to stop poking his tender wounds. Enough to push you away so he can lick his wounds back open. He'll go so far as to accuse you of infidelity, though he regrets the words the moment they leave his lips, it's easier for him to imagine that you simply grew tired of him, that you were weary and longed for the daylight. That you wanted someone who could hold you beneath the sun, unlike him.
How you respond to this is entirely up to you, but just shy of throwing something truly despicable back into his face, such as Cazador, Astarion will apologize... eventually. If you remain stalwart and patient, if you have it in you to recognize that he doesn't mean his words, that he's barbing you with intent, Astarion will break down in that very same argument, his angry and accusatory rant will dissolve into an admission of deep insecurity and deeper terror.
But if you respond with anger? Justifiable, and Astarion knows that even in the moment as it's happening, but emotions rule him far more than he'd ever care to admit, and he will dig in and relish the reaction he's managed to draw from you. He will bristle and bite back until suspicion and bitterness fully claims his heart, and he aborts the conversation to hide in the shadows.
Astarion will wait until nightfall, until his freedom calls for him. The one thing that always manages to clear his head, even when you prove to be the cause of his muddying. It's a reminder, every time he steps into the cool and dark of Baldur's Gate, that Cazador is dead and he is a free man. That he can go where he chooses and when he chooses to, and not only that no one can stop him, but that you wouldn't even want to stop him.
And that truth is always what brings Astarion home.
Under the distant lonely stars and that cold moon, he has to remember that time and again you have let him. You have accepted him, you have not fought him on anything shy of a horrible mistake he wanted to make in a moment of weakness and hysteria. You have accepted all his deepest and ugliest wounds and kissed them like they were freckles to pour affection on. You fought Cazador for him, you defended him from your own friends. You even- at times- tested your own morals for him.
You wouldn't betray him, and Astarion knows he can't betray you.
Astarion would return to you late, curling into bed at your side, his eyes would not meet you, and his apology would come in the form of a simple confession. "I am... afraid. I am afraid."
Astarion wouldn't blame you if you don't forgive him immediately for his transgressions, he was cruel and you were vulnerable. But even then you'll find that your love doesn't abandon you again. He accepts- however frightened- that what you've said is true and is coming, and he must accept it. Mind you, it won't be perfect and it won't be romantic. Astarion doesn't know the intricacies of handling a pregnant woman, he's hardly tactful beyond his well honed and flirtatious lines. He genuinely loves you, but he's going to come pre-equipped as father material.
You need something? He'll get it with minimal complaint (but never none, you'd sooner get him to dye his hair black than cease complaining for the sake of it), he won't begrudge you your mood swings though he might be inclined to poke fun at you ever so often. And he will panic when you burst into tears for seemingly no reason, and no- time doesn't make him adjust, he will panic just as much the thousandth time as the first.
However, if it's any consolation. The moment your child enters the world, Astarion is a changed man.
When You Go Into Labor:
Astarion did the honors of informing all of your friends about your pregnancy, once he came to terms with it. And believe me when I say it is extravagant. The stationery and grandiose script that Astarion wields when informing everyone that you were expecting better fits a wedding invitation than it does... well. Very elegantly explaining that Astarion had accidentally knocked you up.
You can tell from the splotchy stains addressed to you from Wyll and Karlach that one of them had been crying when penning the message, Astarion has coin on Wyll, and you on Karlach. Lae'zel never responds to begin with and you know for a fact the Githyanki's response will likely come in the form of her simply showing up one of these days, unprompted. Jaheira personally and rather frequently visits as well, she becomes a sort of bastion as nerves take you over, confident and calm as she is. Halsin's "letter" arrives late, rather because alongside his letter is several little carved animals for the child's room, and mentions of a quilt he intends to bring along when next he visits. Shadowheart's letter, while congratulatory, contains an air of interrogation strung all about it, all aimed with pinpoint precision at the man responsible for your pregnancy and dripping with sarcasm.
Gale's letter is seven pages long, comes with a violet hued wax stamp, and multiple different inks in the most lavish hand he can manage. You daresay he's competing with Astarion. However, surprisingly, Gale's seems to be the most... helpful of them all? It wasn't your intent, you simply wanted your dear friend to join you in celebration, and yet Gale goes on to inform you that upon reading the letter he'd become a madman in pursuit of knowledge on pregnancy and giving birth. He admits that this wasn't a particularly fruitful endeavor, as he's rather confident that you're not a gnoll, troll, cambion, succubus, or any other variety of strange creature with strange metrics of procreation. Still, Gale directs the latter portion of his letter to Astarion quite pointedly, informing him of bookshops around Baldur's Gate where he might have more success.
Astarion scoffs, but you don't miss the way his fingers twitch and flex.
After the hilarity of this is resolved and you just begin to believe that peace might return to your soft little home in the city, the first of your companions begin to arrive.
This continues on for the next week or so, without you ever knowing that this had been planned- and without knowing that Astarion had been the one to plan it. It's a furthering of his apology, of his guilt over the way he'd treated you. Again, Astarion has no illusions of the kind of man he is, and the fact he's not nurturing in the sort of ways that you need- but he's not completely stupid and he knows you're scared. So... bring the cavalry, darling.
Eventually your entire home has become a crash pad for all of your dearest friends, your family, and you only grow suspicious of Astarion's hand in this chaos because he's surprisingly amicable to having his peace so thoroughly disturbed by 'everyone and their mother'. Truly, he manages to bite his tongue some of the time about them trampling his fine rugs and scratching the plates. He even seems... wistful about it. As nostalgic as you openly are at seeing all of these beloved people under one roof again.
Nights are filled with raucous laughter, clattering utensils, a table so thoroughly overcrowded that people are playfully shouldering each other out of the way for a chance to get at their own food. And Astarion stays faithful at your side, his hand perpetually clasped gently around yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. Days are never spent alone, no matter what it is you need to do, someone (if not everyone) is following you along. And though Astarion feels his heart ache that he can't join you, he'll be glad to know you're safe.
Besides, your companions are likely all taking turns tormenting, testing, and relentlessly teasing him about what is to come. He has his own hands full. He's starting to regret being such a generous lover.
And then your water breaks in the dead of night.
Remember how I said Astarion was far from perfect? This would be one of those moments that it really shines.
Not that he's particularly terrible, no. He's not actively cruel toward you, and certainly not dismissive, it's somewhat the opposite. Halsin and Jaheira end up the ones helping you, the only two with some iota of understanding on what was happening and what to do with and for you. The others, less experienced in "mundane" medical situations will take up the second most important role.
Prevent Astarion from catastrophizing any more than he already has been.
Karlach has been the sole force capable of keeping Astarion away from the wine, typically bear hugging him away from your cellar while Wyll tries his best to talk your lover down from a total nervous breakdown. Of which he nearly has, several times. It's not even the sight of you, specifically. He's okay with being at your side and holding your hand, in trying his best to provide comforting words that aren't laced with sarcasm for once. But the sounds you make, that's what breaks him. Astarion isn't good at hearing you scream from the pain, he isn't good at the choked sobs or your heavy breaths. The way you sound like you're struggling against death. It makes him want to crawl out of his own skin, fight assailants that aren't there.
And for a few hours there, in the midst of your labors and your exhausted, pained little cries, Astarion isn't sure how he can love the child causing you this much suffering. It's not as if Astarion was an altruistic man on his best days, as if he were particularly reasonable when it came to you. You've both come to a mutual understanding that were something to happen to you, no morals would be involved in the things Astarion would do to rectify it.
And now, here you are, suffering. Astarion isn't supposed to do a thing about it? He's supposed to be- what, overjoyed by it? It infuriates him, he's truly prepared to have a grudge match with an infant.
Until, as the sun is starting to creep up on a brand new day, it's no longer your screams that meet the air, but another's entirely. Tiny but powerful, high pitched little squeals of fury and distress. And your laughter, disbelieving, soft, adoring already.
Astarion has a daughter.
I go with the HC that Astarion had eyes like honey once, and that his daughter takes after that, along with the delicate points of his ears mirrored in her own. She's small, so small, but healthy and already feisty, wiggling as best as her tiny body can whilst still too heavy for her to lift and move.
You're the first to hold her of course, and Astarion will be at his knees beside the two of you. The expression he wears is something you've seen maybe two or three other times in the entire time you've known him- moments when you know he expected everything to fall apart, moments where he couldn't believe that the world was so good.
It's then that you can breathe for the first time, and know that both of your darlings will be just fine.
Once he does hold her, he's not inclined to let her go. Even once you ask to have her back, he'll simply move you into his lap, so that he can hold you both. It's better that way anyhow, having both of his girls in his arms. And Astarion will repeat again and again how stunned he is, he just can't believe it. Cannot fathom any of it. I think he's the type to say that he's speechless and then spend the next five minutes doing nothing but talking. It's nervous rambling, but still, speechless is not the term I would use to describe him here.
Astarion With Your Baby:
Once your little darling is actually in your lives, you get to see how hilariously unorthodox Astarion is with children. Especially his own. Astarion doesn't baby-talk like you or the rest of your companions, he speaks in the same exact tones as he would a grown woman. In fact, for the first few days you're adjusting to a child in your life, you sometimes mistake Astarion as speaking with an unexpected guest, only to round the corner and find him lightheartedly chastising his own daughter for her poor nappy conduct as he wrinkles his nose and changes her diaper.
He's disgusted by that, by the way. Absolutely hates it, complains loudly about having to do it. But if you so much as try to stand to help he'll force you back down onto your chair or the couch, something something not useless something something already up, darling. It's as if Astarion is simply allergic to admitting that while it makes him nauseous, he wants to care for his daughter. He wants you to rest.
And yes, Astarion is the type of father that thinks all other children are hideous little fecal beasts and his daughter is the only gorgeous little angel in the entire world. Perfect, can do no wrong. He tells her as such too, in the same deadpan voice he always uses, wiggling and stretching her legs.
"You know, darling. You should count your blessings, you're the only child I've ever seen that doesn't look like some sort of hideous, deformed bean. I can't be surprised though, with as gorgeous as your parents are." And though he rolls his eyes, he's unable to contain the grin that shows his teeth when she coos and squeaks at the sound of his voice.
And yes. Astarion dresses up with his child.
The older she gets the more he does it, little matching outfits and ribbons. Nothing that she would choke on, were she to get her mitts on it. (You had to be the one to tell him no, at first. He did throw a little fit about it, just a small one).
But it's not all lighthearted, good or bad.
There are times where Astarion won't touch your daughter, won't be alone with her in the same room. He fears it, he'll eventually tell you. His... affliction came with it's dangers, always. But he's always trusted that you could defend yourself, and you're big enough that he can't just kill you between one blink and the next. The same can't be said of your darling girl. She's so small and so fragile that, were he to lose even the slightest grip of himself around her, it could cost her her life. No doubt it would traumatize her for life, regardless.
You watch it, too. The way it pinches his brows and makes him wipe his palms against his pants as if he were sweating. Nervous habits creeping up his throat and causing him to pace about like a caged animal. It's during these times that you have to bring your daughter to him. Gently place her in his arms and remind him that he's loved her from the moment he saw her. And where once he held trepidation and queasiness at the prospect of fatherhood, you can see him care so much about this little bundle that he looks sick from it. A vulnerability he can't mask.
And of course, there are times he nearly weeps for other reasons.
Like when she takes her first steps, and immediately tries to run for him.
And Astarion knows he should let her tumble, that it's good to let her fall and get back up again, but the moment her unsteady feet cause her to careen she's safe in his arms. Little kisses peppered against her giggly face. And he'll tuck away against her to try and get his bearings back, but she'll pat his cheeks and tug his ears- and you'll have to distract her with a toy while he hiccups and sniffles down his need to cry. He wasn't ready for her to grow so fast, gone is the tiny bundle that could fit perfectly in one arm, now she's walking. How long before she's dating? Gods, should he be preparing for betrothal requests!?
"I want to be mortal." He whispers to you, one night. She's tucked between your bodies, sound asleep and wiggling from time to time. This is one of the rare moments you and your love can speak to each other uninterrupted, in the tranquility of the dark hugging around you.
It's strange that he brings this up now, you'd spoken about it several times since the Elder Brain had been taken down... But in the past few years since your daughter had been born, all of that had fallen to the wayside. "What brings this to mind, Starling?"
Your hand comes to cup his throat, as you watch and feel him work as if he were swallowing a stone. "I don't want to outlive this."
It's hard to blink the tears from your eyes, understanding the implications.
Were he actually two hundred years old, Astarion wouldn't survive well past the existence of his sweet little family.
He'd been more melancholy the past few weeks, after realizing that your daughter was beginning to function on her own. She was walking, grabbing things, talking in rudimentary sentences. She was even beginning to call him pa.
He'd cried, at that.
"I'll forget," his voice draws you out from that brief reverie. The distress is palpable, but runs low like the tide before a storm. "I'll forget all of this. I don't want to know what I'll become, then."
And when you run your hands up into his hair, to scratch lovingly along his scalp, he doesn't hide the shiver or the way his face presses against your palm, cold and smooth on your skin.
"We'll find a way, Astarion. I haven't given up yet... We just- she's too young."
It's both a strain and a relief, to know that. To be reminded that your daughter is still so small, that he won't be losing her- or you- any time soon. There's still time.
Astarion With Your Teen:
Arguably this is the best time between your daughter and him. It's simultaneously a surprise and yet- not at all? He's more like her confidante and best friend than strictly a father. He isn't one for harsh curfews and strict ways of dress- rather, he's the one she comes to when she's made some sort of mistake. Or when she's angry about something.
In general, Astarion withholds judgement of her, for better or worse. The unintended consequence is that you might become more of her enemy than Astarion, because he's less inclined to punish for questionable behaviors.
It's not that he's afraid of angering her or dealing with push back- rather that Astarion's frame of reference for what constitutes a mistake is ah... rather broken. Even in the beginnings of your relationship with Astarion, the mistakes that would anger him constituted dropping an entire building on his head or... risking being turned into a Mindflayer to help some old lady find her cat.
Not feeling up cute boys in alleyways.
As a result you'll likely need to have a few conversations with him about not being so lenient on her, because she needs to have structure in how to behave. Stealing things is in fact, not okay! And Astarion will listen, but he's always going to be a bit more of a friend than anything else.
A total gossip with her, too. You'll catch them huddled around the dinner table at night, both with a glass of wine (this was an argument that Astarion ended up winning, she's allowed one glass a week, but that's all!) in hand shittalking a storm together. Astarion has become the Baldur's Gate equivalent of a PTA mom, he shows up as stylishly as he can and beefs with the parents of whichever children have upset his daughter the most. And then when they get home they just toss it back and forth together.
But I want to stress, just because he doesn't punish her doesn't mean he isn't protective of her. Astarion is more protective than you are.
Once she begins dating you'll find yourself home alone semi-frequently, because Astarion will play the supportive, loving father part when she leaves- and immediately follow her out into the dark. He's had centuries to know what dangers lurk around every corner, and foggy memories of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time before his nightmare began. He won't allow that to happen with his girl.
And it's funny, because Astarion will talk mad shit to himself while he does it. Logically he knows that she's with some teenage boy or girl, but it doesn't stop the petty, emotional side of him from rolling his eyes and sneering at the cheap one-liners and the dumb tactics that this would-be charmer utilizes. Really, taking her into dark alleys to get her to tuck into you? Going to a totally secret spot that Astarion has known about for at least a hundred and sixty years? Get real, kid.
And you have to try valiantly not to laugh when he comes home, huffing and puffing about it. Because you will hear every single petty thought he had the entire time, and you will know that he looks like a petulant child. It's very cute.
All in all, I think Astarion is a reckless, chaotic, petty father. And one that loves his child so, so much. To the point of ruin, to the point where suddenly staying in one place doesn't seem so bad, just so she can have friends. Helping people isn't the worst, just so she can know there are heroes in the world. Suddenly he's learning to bandage scrapes and kiss bruises, and having tears and snot on his clothes mean nothing compared to the grief of the one shedding them. He loves her in ways he didn't anticipate he ever could. Enough to know all of her ticks and secrets, to know when she's lying through her teeth and when she's being devastatingly obvious.
Learning to cook even when he can't eat, listening to her spin a story with a straight face and then- as she's stepping out the door- telling her to be careful with that boy and listening to her groan loudly as the door slams shut, a mischievous smile on his face.
Holding you and dancing you around, cradling you close with all the tenderness he has in the whole of his body and soul. Kissing you, calling you the mother of his child, thanking you for giving him something he didn't even know he'd wanted. A family.
Small and odd, but his.
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jflemings · 4 months
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— loose lips sink ships
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pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 2
synopsis: after portland play seattle, janine accidentally tells you that jessie had been with her ex olivia for most of college after you’d been told that they only dated for a couple of months.
warnings: a lil angst, trust issues (kinda)
a/n: for the sake of the fic, olivia athens is jessie’s ex. took inspo from an ask i got a lil while back
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
you were looking to break the deadlock when it happened.
one minute the ball was leaving your feet and the next you were on the ground clutching your nose as blood pooled in your hand. you’d gotten an elbow to the nose as you ran up the wing, looking to find sophia who wasn’t too far in front of you.
the tackle had been clean for the most part. it wasn’t mistimed, or malicious, the midfielder had just thrown her elbow back into face after you’d passed it. her foot had hooked around your left ankle as she’d tried to get in front of you and you’d grabbed the back of her jersey. it had been a complete accident. nevertheless, it ended with the two of you on your respective benches, you nursing a hopefully not broken nose and her a badly twisted ankle.
jessie was by your side in an instant when you fell to your knees and leant over into a foetal position, one hand on your shoulder whilst the other tried to gently grasp your hand away from your face. the look of worry in her eyes was enough for you to know that it was bad, or at least that it looked like it was. she’d grimaced when she saw all the blood and soph had gasped from where she was standing behind your girlfriend.
now you hold an ice pack to your nose as you watch both teams shake hands and come off the pitch. portland had won and while you assumed that some form of celebration was in order, you knew that you weren’t going to go.
“swollen face really suits you” janine quips as she walks over to you “she got you good”
you roll your eyes and pull the ice pack off your face briefly “not good enough to break it, thank god” you say stuffily “we got the three points and i’m walking away not needing surgery so i’d say that’s a pretty successful day in the office”
the older canadian nods “i take it you’re not coming out with us?”
“unless you want me to walk around with a cold compress on my face the whole time, no” you deadpan “it’s not a very attractive look”
“i don’t think jessie would mind” she muses with a playful smirk “she doesn’t care what you look like”
“that makes one of us”
janine rolls her eyes and sits beside you, tapping your knee affectionately “kinda funny that jessie’s ex is the one that elbowed you” she says as she half laughs.
you furrow your brows and have the sudden realisation that you don’t actually know where jessie is since she hadn’t come over to you after the final whistle. you scan the area, craning your neck to try to get a better look when you spot her in a sea of deep blue. you spot her easily in portland red and expect her to be talking to jordyn or quinn, but instead find her chatting with olivia athens.
she’s standing over her as olivia sits on the bench. jessie’s hand sits delicately on her shoulder as the two of them talk and laugh in their own little bubble.
the sight of it makes you feel weird.
you tilt your head in confusion “she dated athens?” you question.
“yeah, for most of college. you didn’t know?”
you while your head around to janine, pulling the ice off your face to reveal your swollen nose. she grimaces at the sight before seeing your shocked expression.
“most of college? what does that mean?”
“…that they dated for two and a half years before she moved to london” she answers slowly “you seriously didn’t know?”
“no, i knew that she dated someone in college for a couple of months. not that she dated someone for two and a half years!” you huff
realisation dawns on janine rapidly, her face morphing from confusion to guilt as she thinks over what she’s just said to you. she punches her mouth “jess told you they were only together for a couple of months?”
“and that they’d broken up way before she moved to chelsea”
the canadian suddenly can’t look you in the eye. she attempts to divert her attention elsewhere, trying to find a way out of this conversation before you smack her on the leg.
“janine” you say sternly.
she relents with a sigh “they broke up because of the distance. they both thought it would be better if they split because olivia was going to be playing in the states and they didn’t want— where are you going!?” she cuts herself off abruptly as you stand and make your way towards the tunnel.
“shower” you say shortly, not daring to look at jessie as you pass her on your way.
you staunch into change rooms and grab your shower bag and your clothes before making your way to the showers. everyone was still outside mingling but you knew it wouldn’t be long before your teammates started to trickle in so you took the opportunity as it presented itself and basked in the quiet.
you immediately turn on the hot water and let it steam slightly before ridding yourself of your soiled kit, stepping in and relaxing once you feel the water run down your back. you go through your shower routine almost dazed, the thought of jessie purposefully lying to you lingering in the back of your mind.
when jessie made the move to chelsea you were playing at manchester city with janine. she had insisted that the two of you meet and quickly introduced you to the younger canadian at a small get together at her place.
jessie had made an immediate impression on you. she was a little awkward, yes, but once the two of you got talking you quickly realised that she was incredibly smart and funny. the pair of you spent the whole night chatting and getting to know eachother before exchanging numbers with the promise of meeting up without janine.
a friendship quickly blossomed and you found yourself harbouring secret romantic feelings for the canadian. you kept them under wraps relatively well until janine and lauren hemp spotted you smiling at your phone a little too wide, leaving them to all but squeeze the information out of you. janine promised to keep your secret and to not do any meddling on the condition that you at least tried to make a move.
you, of course, had protested immediately until she started listing off reasons why it was a good idea, accidentally letting it slip that your feelings weren’t one sided in her rushed rant. you did what she wanted and asked jessie out with no mention of the fact that her best friend had been the one to out her secret.
when the topic of past relationships came up jessie had explicitly said that she had dated one person through college and that it had only been for a couple of months, claiming that the two of them really were just better as friends. she told you that they had dated in the beginning of her second last year, that it wasn’t anything serious, and that they had broken up long before chelsea came knocking.
your relationship grew and eventually you decided that it was time to leave the wsl. portland had made each of you an offer that you couldn’t refuse, so the two of you packed up your lives in london and crossed the pond.
replaying that conversation in your head feels like a slap in the face. jessie, to your knowledge, had never lied to you or withheld the truth in anyway, so to find out that she hadn’t been completely honest with you in the very beginning of your relationship had you running hot.
the two of you weren’t a secret in the footballing world, but you knew that it wasn’t something that was well known. the two of you had chosen to let fans speculate about the nature of your relationship whilst being honest with those around you, it was just easier that way.
you didn’t know if olivia knew you were together, or if she knew that jessie was even in a relationship. you didn’t know if they kept in contact, if they still knew eachother well, or if jessie had even thought about her before she clocked you in the nose.
you just didn’t know.
voices interrupt your train of thought and you quickly turn off the shower and grab a towel, drying yourself off and getting changed in hopes that your teammates will be too distracted with themselves to notice you slipping out. as you go to leave to go back to your cubby, you catch janine’s guilty eye. she smiles apologetically at you before turning to get in her own shower, leaving you to what you were doing.
jessie pretty much runs into you on the way to her shower, steadying the two of you as your shoulders collide. her hand squeezes your bicep as she smiles and looks at your nose.
“it’s not broken” you say “it looked worse than what it is”
your girlfriend breathes a relieved sigh “thank god for that” she says as she grabs your jaw gently, moving your head so she can look at your whole face properly “you’re pretty swollen” she observes.
you take your face out of her hand “yeah. i just need to ice it on and off and take it easy and i’ll be fine” you say almost emotionless “nothing to worry about”
the canadian tilts her head and squints her eyes, studying you. even with your nose she didn’t expect you to be so down, your stoic attitude catching her a bit off guard. even if you got injured you were still known to at least attempt to crack a smile if it wasn’t serious. she recalls a time when you had sprained your knee during a city vs chelsea match; you were obviously distraught and in pain when you went down but by the time the game was over you were managing to smile and just be grateful that you hadn’t done your ACL.
your girlfriend squints “are you okay?”
“aside from the nose? yeah, fine.” you say as you pass her.
jessie’s quick to grab your hand and pull you back, her voice minimising to a whisper “y/n” she says
“i’m fine jessie” you falsely assure as you take your hand back “just tired”
she lets you go without much protest, her eyes following you until you’re out of her sight. her mouth flattens into a line and she shakes her head, gripping her jeans and t-shirt tightly as she makes her way to the shower.
janine watches the interaction from across the room and feels the overwhelming urge to go after you, or to at least explain to jessie, but she knows that she’s run her mouth enough for one day.
you walk into your shared apartment and immediately drop your things onto the kitchen bench whilst you raid your freeze for a bag of frozen peas. jessie trails behind cautiously. the car ride had been pretty much silent despite her best efforts to make conversation, leaving her feeling like there was something else that was wrong with you.
she watches you place the peas on your face and close your eyes with a sigh. she’s unsure how to bring up the obvious tension between the two of you, especially since your patience seems to be wearing thin already. she doesn’t like to fight with you but she also doesn’t like feeling the need to walk on eggshells.
she leans her forearms on the kitchen counter “babe” she says into the silence “what’s up? you’ve been frosty since after the game”
“i got an elbow to the face jess” you sass “i’d say that’s a reason to be frosty”
jessie rolls her eyes “that’s not what i meant”
you wave her off quickly and release a deep breath in an attempt to rid yourself of some of the tension “i’m tired and i’m sore, jess, that’s all. seriously”
“okay…” she says slowly “i was going to go out with the team but—”
“no, go” you cut her off as you place the bag of frozen vegetables on the bench “have fun, i’ll be fine”
she stands up straight and runs her hand over the back of her neck “are you sure? because if you don’t want me to i won’t”
the truth was that you kind of didn’t want her to go. you knew that while jordyn and quinn would be there, olivia probably would be too. you heard a few of your teammates say that some of the seattle girls were going to join your team for drinks, and you weren’t too keen on having your girlfriend’s ex hanging around without you there.
it was stupid. really, it was. jessie adored you and you trusted her immensely, but knowing that she had told you something that wasn’t true in the beginning of your relationship had planted small seeds of doubt. you were left wondering what else she could’ve possibly lied to you about, and how it would affect your relationship if any of it was made known to you now.
your need to keep the peace overrides the need to find out the truth. “i’m sure. tell jords and quinny that i say hi” you say softly, walking around the bench and placing a soft hand to her cheek.
she leans into you and kisses the palm of your hand before you walk to your living room and turning on the tv, hoping to find something to take your mind off of everything.
jessie, on the other hand, goes straight to your bedroom to start to get ready. you can hear your wardrobe doors and drawers open and close as she looks for what she wants to wear before she walks out and past you to go to your laundry dressed in just a plain shirt, boxes and socks “have you seen my light wash jeans, babe?”
“which ones, you’ve got a million pairs” you ask as you flick through your streaming services.
jessie goes through dirty and clean laundry as she answers you loudly “the more loose fitted ones. i wore them last week to dinner with sinc and janine”
“bottom left drawer under your dark blue ones”
she’s quick to rush back into your bedroom and grab them, stumbling back into the hallway as she puts one leg on. you watch her struggle before she does up her fly and comes back over to you, kissing your cheek firmly “sam and soph are coming to get me, i won’t be home late and i’ll call a cab if i need to” she says into your skin, kissing you again.
you shake your head “i can come get you”
she brushes your hair back “no, it’s okay. you just try to get that swelling to go down. i promise i’ll only be a few hours”
all you can do is nod as you watch her grab her things and walk out the door, the pit of doubt only growing in your stomach as she shuts it behind her.
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imaginespazzi · 2 months
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Part 5: The Answers We Wait For
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9
I'd go back in time and change it (but I can't)
(In which a writer's busy schedule somehow still had time for her favorite obsession)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining
Words: 7.0K (it's very on-brand that my busiest week would produce the longest chapter)
TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)
A/N: Happy Monday lovelies :) How I managed to pull this off is between me and God at this point but here we are. I know it's been an interesting day to say the least, so I'm hoping me living up to my promises can be a silver lining. Quick note that I already fucked up the timeline at some point and Paige Olivia have actually been divorced for almost 3 years. I'll change that eventually. I actually didn't even try to really edit this chapter and in the choice between editing tomorrow and giving it to y'all today, I chose the latter. So please help a girl out and point out my typos/mistakes if you spot them and I will also eventually go back and edit. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forwards. Have a lovely week my loves <3
December 2027
Marriage and weddings had never been at the forefront of Paige’s mind. To be completely honest, for most of her life, there wasn’t much occupying her brain other than the court under her feet and the basketball in her hands. But the couple of times she had let herself picture it, she’d always thought that she’d have a Fall wedding, probably in Minnesota, maybe even on a basketball court. An indoor winter wedding in Texas had never once crossed her mind. She’d imagined vibrant fun bouquets made of pink lilies and purple hydrangeas, not the elegant red and white roses arrangements that were currently being placed along a far too heavily decorated aisle. Instead of vintage wines and carefully constructed fancy cocktails, she’d thought it would be nice to have spiked shirley temples and maybe even blue and white jello shots. She had expected to have a quiet ceremony followed by a vivacious gathering of everyone she loved. It had never even occurred to her that her wedding would become a public spectacle with People's magazine in attendance.  She’d pictured a party, not an event. 
Most of all she’d dreamt of getting married to a girl with dark eyes that could see all of Paige’s flaws and a soft smile that promised she’d love Paige despite them all. 
But the thing about dreams is that they’re fleeting trains that travel through the tracks of your mind when you’re asleep, and when you wake up, reality is nothing but a devastating train crash. 
Paige sighs, forcing herself out of her own head, as she stares at her reflection in the mirror. She looks pretty. Brittany had found her a nice white wedding suit -fitted to perfection- matching it with dainty silver jewelry. Paige normally liked her outfits a little looser but Olivia loved it and Paige likes that Olivia loves it. Her hair is styled in a bun, with two straightened strands to highlight her face. She thinks she might have preferred to have them curled in the front but Olivia had sweetly insisted on them being straight because hers would be curly and they had to complement, not match. Paige doesn’t really understand the difference or the importance but she thinks if Olivia wants it like that then she's fine with it. She thinks the bold red lipstick heavily coating her mouth makes her look a little bit like a vampire out of a badly directed 90’s horror movie but Olivia had said it was necessary so that the lights and cameras didn’t wash her face out. 
Paige looks pretty. She just doesn’t really look like Paige. 
“What do you think Drewski?” she asks, twirling to face her stone-faced brother who’s sitting on the couch, with a bout of enthusiasm that rings hollow to her own ears, “do I look gorgeous or what?”
“You look weird,” Drews says stiffly and Paige sighs. 
“Dr-” Paige is cut off by her younger brother sauntering over. A confused expression spreads over her features as Drew takes her hand and places it on his forehead, “uh- what are you doing?”
“Paigey, doesn't my forehead feel hot? I feel so sick,” the little boy whines, letting out a series of overzealous dramatized coughs. 
“Your forehead feels fine,” Paige says, slowly removing her hand.
“Well of course you’d think that. You’re not a doctor who knows how to feel foreheads correctly. I think we need to go to the hospital to see a real doctor. Like right now,” Drew pulls at Paige’s hand as she begins to catch onto what he’s trying to make happen. 
“You’re fine Drew.”
“I’m NOT. I’m very, very, very sick. So we have to leave right now. I could be contagious. I could be a danger to all these people,” Drew’s animated hands start to fly everywhere, “you can’t get married when your little brother’s sick. It’s- it’s just wrong. Bad juju or something like that. Everybody will understand that you just had to call off the wedding. For family reasons.”
“Drew-” Paige tries again, a hard pit settling in her stomach. 
“Are you worried cause you didn’t bring your car? That’s okay I’m sure Ice or KK will drive us but you can’t get married today Paigey. You just can’t,” his bottom lip trembles as the façade of illness slips and Paige feels her own eyes start to get glossy, “it’s not right Paigey. This is all wrong. She’s all wrong.”
“It’s not like that Drew. You just haven’t gotten to know-”
“I don’t want to know her,” Drew yells, “you don’t even know her. How can you get married to someone you’ve barely dated for a year. How can you do this to Az-”
“That’s enough,” Paige’s voice is eerily calm, as she digs her fingernails into her palm, “watch how you talk to me-”
“You’re being stup-”
“Drew Thomas I am not going to repeat myself again. Behave yourself. You’re not nearly old enough to be questioning what I do with my life,” it takes every inch of self-control Paige has to not let her voice shake. 
Her younger brother’s words feel like acid rain pelting against her already wounded skin. They slip into the gashes, mixing into her bloodstreams to create an army with the battalion of her own thoughts that have been hacking away at her heart for god knows how long. Paige wonders how long it’ll be before she finally bleeds out. 
“Please don’t get married Paigey,” Drew pleads, gripping his sister’s hand, “please.”
There’s nothing but silence as Paige opens and closes her mouth. And she doesn’t know if she’s trying to get words out or breathe air in; all she knows is that Drew might be squeezing her hands, but it feels like someone is strangling her lungs. 
She’s saved from having to say anything by a hesitant knock on the door. As Drew begrudgingly goes to open it, Paige scrambles to put herself back together. She closes her eyes, taking in three deep breaths before-
Drew gasps and Paige’s eyes fly open. With her back turned to the door, she can’t see who it is and something like hope starts to bloom in her chest, vines of maybe it’s her weaving through her ribcage. And as she turns around, they turn to dust; dust that floats up to her eyes and makes them tear up again as she stares dumbfoundedly at the two people standing somewhat awkwardly in her doorway. 
Paige had grown up an independent child. It wasn’t that her parents were neglectful or that they hadn’t loved her enough because they had. But at first it was the constant fighting and then it was the nurturing of a brand new family with new children and Paige had slipped through the cracks of oh she’s so mature we don’t need to worry about her. She had always had her parents as cheerleaders in the stands; no one was prouder of Paige than they were. But no one had bothered to force her to drink terrible tasting immunity boosters. No had patiently dyed her hair purple and pinky promised to like it even if it turned out terrible. No one had yelled at her for being in the gym till one a.m or woken her up at an ungodly hour to run drills. Not until she’d met a girl at 15 and that girl’s parents had decided that Paige was just as much theirs as their own daughter. 
And suddenly there were more people added to her cheering squad for her wins. But that’s not when Paige fell in love with Tim and Katie Fudd. It was when she lost and there was a nagging finger followed by a full breakdown of what she could do better next time and finally, a bear hug promising they’d help her do it. They’d been there every step and she’d sent the invitation, scared they wouldn’t show up, that they wouldn’t be there for this step, a step that inadvertently took her further away from them. But here they are anyway. 
“Hi sweetheart,” Katie says softly, her own eyes moist as she takes in the sight of the bride, “you look- you look absolutely stunning Paige.”
“You came,” Paige whispers, “I didn’t- I didn’t know if you would.”
“Of course we came,” Tim exclaims but his normal boisterous voice doesn’t feel nearly as enthusiastic, “always told you we’d be front and center at your wedding.”
Because I was supposed to marry your daughter; I was supposed to become your daughter, officially. 
“I’m really glad you guys came,” Paige says, letting Katie wrap her into a warm hug. She only gets a second to let herself enjoy it before Drew’s asking a question that makes her stiffen. 
“Where’s Azzi?” 
It’s like there’s lightning wrapped in that one syllable and it strikes right through Paige’s heart, setting every inch of it ablaze with the flames of a name that used to feel like cotton candy on her tongue; now it feels like lava. 
“She couldn’t make it,” Tim says slowly and Paige knows she shouldn’t be surprised, let along disappointed that her ex wasn’t coming but there’s a string that snaps anyways. 
“Why not?” Drew asks petulantly. 
“The baby’s due next month,” Tim tells him gently, “she can’t fly.”
The air feels suffocating at the mention of the baby. She’d been scrolling mindlessly through her tiktok feed when the announcement had popped up. She still has it memorized. 
Golden State Valkyries superstar shooting guard Azzi Fudd announces pregnancy on Instagram; she’ll miss the upcoming WNBA season. 
For a moment the world had stopped as Paige had hurriedly switched apps to instagram. And there it was. A smiling picture of Azzi holding a sonogram. Paige doesn’t know how long she’d stared at the picture but she remembers that it was set against a white background and she remembers that Azzi was wearing a green top. And as she’d typed out a congrats! that blended in seamlessly with all the other felicitating comments on the post, Paige had wondered if Azzi had felt it too. She’d wondered if, when Azzi had left a similar congratulations <3 post on Paige’s engagement announcement, she’d felt something unravel too. She’d wondered if Azzi had felt this hollowness of and i guess this is us signing off on never getting forever with each other. 
“So Azzi’s not going to stop this wedding?” Drew’s voice is dangerously even as he rounds on Paige, “and you’re really going through with this?”
“Drew please” Paige says tiredly as Katie runs a soothing hand down her back. 
“You’re stupid. And she’s stupid. You’re all so freaking stupid,” Drew bursts out, stomping past the adults in the doorway, his anger palpable in every single word. 
“I got it,” Tim says, wrapping a wrist around Paige’s hand as she moves to follow her younger brother. He squeezes gently, a half-hearted smile on his face, “it’s gonna be okay kid. It always is.”
Paige wishes she could just believe him, turn off the voices in her head and just be a kid who could take an adult’s word as gospel. But Paige is the adult now and believing no longer comes so naturally. 
“Hey,” Katie says after Tim runs after Drew, pulling Paige to sit with her on the couch, “I have a little wedding gift for you.
“Katie you don’t have-” Paige begins, watching as the older woman pulls out a velvet box from her bag, placing her phone on the table next to her. 
“Oh hush. I told you I’d give this to you,” Katie chides as she hands the velvet box. Paige’s eyes glisten as she opens it to find a familiar purple amethyst necklace. She’s flooded with the vivid image of her and Azzi on a random day in lockdown helping Katie organize her minimal jewelry. Paige had fallen in love with this necklace and Azzi had her eyes set on a pink topaz. It was fitting to say the least and Katie had promised them, with a glint in her eyes, that she’d give it to them as their something old on their wedding day. They’d been in between something and everything but Paige and Azzi had shared a shy smile over it anyways. 
“I can’t accept this,” Paige shakes her head trying to hand the box back but Katie dodges it expertly. 
“Yes you can. It’s basically a family heirloom and you, Paige Bueckers, are family,” Katie says firmly. 
“Katie-”
The older woman presses a kiss to Paige’s forehead as she starts to head out, “you’re always gonna be family Paige. Always.”
Katie’s words act like a band-aid but they’re not enough- maybe nothing will be enough- to fully heal the wound of today i was supposed to officially become a Fudd. 
A ringing noise interrupts Paige’s pity party and she starts half-heartedly digging around for her phone. She’s confused when she finds it because no one’s calling her and the room is still vibrating with noise. Crinkling her eyebrows, Paige’s eyes finally land on the couch side table, where Katie’s phone, clearly forgotten, is buzzing. 
Azzi’s CallerID flashes on the screen. 
Paige stares at the phone, rooted in place. She knows she shouldn’t pick it up, knows she should go return it. Still without a decision, Paige slowly starts to reach for it. And then it stops ringing and Paige goes still again, unsure if she’s relieved or disappointed. Swallowing, she takes another step. The phone rings again. A myriad of thoughts dance through Paige’s mind, opposing thoughts clashing with each other and making her head hurt. She lies to herself that it’s out of concern; that Azzi’s pregnant and this could be important. She lies to herself as she hits the green answer button that it’s not because she’s desperate to hear Azzi’s voice. 
“Mom?” Azzi sounds distraught when she picks up but Paige thinks it’s still her favorite sound any way, “Mom? I think I did something wrong. I can’t do this Mom. You’ve been gone a day and I’ve already fucked up. I don’t know what and I don’t know when but I think I fucked up. Maybe I ate something I wasn’t supposed to. Maybe it’s because I lay on my back instead of my side but Mom she hasn’t kicked all day and I can’t get Dr. Myers on the phone and I-”
“It’s a girl?” Paige breathes out. And suddenly she’s 22, sitting in a UConn apartment living room, grinning foolishly as Jana points out an AI picture that looks like the perfect mixture of her and Azzi. Azzi, who’s having a daughter. 
The woman in question is quiet and for a second Paige thinks that Azzi might hang up. 
“It’s a girl Paige,” Azzi says finally. 
“Are you- are you okay?” Paige asks slowly, trying not to dwell on how much she’s missed the way Azzi says her name. It’s been Bueckers every time they’ve seen each other this year and she’s never hated the sound of her last name more. 
“Yeah, I just-” Azzi sighs, her voice still a little frazzled, “I’m just being paranoid cause my Mom’s not here and my doctor’s not answering and the stupid baby hasn’t kicked all day,” she pauses, “sorry. I-I don’t mean to dump on you. Not today at least.”
“Az-”
“Where’s my Mom?”
“She- she’s probably outside. Think she left her phone here by accident. I can go find her but can I-” Paige hesitates, chewing at her lips in a way she knows Olivia hates, “can I help?”
“I don’t think-”
Paige shocks herself with her next words, “put the phone to your stomach.”
“What? Paige, did you hit your head in the last two seconds or something?”
“Just- just trust me,” she’s not really sure what she’s saying but now that she’s said, might as well commit to the bit, “I’mma talk sense into her. I saw it in a movie.”
“You saw it in a-” Azzi sighs and Paige can practically picture her rolling her eyes.  “I don’t know who’s more insane. You for coming up with the idea or me because I’mma follow through it,” there’s a bunch of static noise on the other side as Azzi adjusts herself, putting the phone on speaker and pressing it to her belly, “alright Dr. Bueckers work your magic.”
Paige is nervous as she speaks, “hey there little bean. I’m your-” she stops because what is she, “I’m your Paige,” she decides softly, “and I think- I think you should stop stressing your Mama out. She’s a bit of an overthinker so if you could just help her out, I think she’d really appreciate it. Because if- if you don’t she isn’t gonna be able to sleep tonight and you don’t know this yet but when your Mama doesn’t get sleep, she’s kind of a bi-”
“Paige,” Azzi hisses.
“Big baby,” Paige corrects, “she’s a big baby. And then she cries and it’s not a pretty sight-”
“Hey!”
“Sshhh Azzi I’m working my magic,” Paige scolds, “where was I? Oh yeah. She cries and it’s not a pretty sight because,’ her voice softens, “seeing your Mama cry is the worst thing in the world. I hate it and I know- I know you’re gonna hate it too because when you finally come out little bean, the first thing you’re gonna see is your Mama’s smile. And you’re gonna think it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Just like I do,” a sob escapes on the other end of the line and Paige feels tears start to cascade down her own cheeks, “come on little bean, give us a little kick. Make your Mama smile.”
Time ticks by slowly and Paige closes her eyes, thinking maybe her desperate attempt to keep Azzi on the line had failed miserably. And then Azzi gasps, “she kicked. Oh my god Paige she kicked.”
Paige’s grin stretches her whole face and for a second it almost feels like she’s right there with Azzi, that instead of her ear being pressed to a phone, it’s pressed to Azzi’s belly. For a second she almost feels like she can feel the baby kicking. And then she opens her eyes. 
“Did it make you smile?” 
“Yeah, yeah it did,” Azzi admits and Paige can hear the relief in her voice. 
“I’m glad- I’m glad you have something that makes you smile.”
“Do you?” Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “do you have someone that makes you smile?”
“Yeah, yeah I do,” and it’s not a complete lie. Olivia does make Paige smile. And maybe it’s not quite as big or bright or real but at least Olivia’s here to try. 
“Good. I-I’m also really glad you have that.”
“You are?”
“Of course I am Paige,” Azzi says quietly, “I want you to smile. I just- I just want you to be happy. Are you happy Paige?”
“I’m getting married today,” Paige says in lieu of an answer and she can hear Azzi’s breath hitch. 
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is. It’s a yes or no question,” Azzi presses.
“Then you answer it Azzi,” Paige bites out, “are you happy?”
“I”m-,” the younger girl lets out a sigh, “I’m content.”
Her answer makes Paige’s skin itch with irritation and she can’t stop it from seeping into her next question, “so you have no regrets then?”
“I didn’t say that,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s voice. 
“Do you or do you not regret saying no to marrying me Azzi?” Paige asks, unable to hold it in any longer. 
“Paige-”
“What? You gonna say it’s not that simple? It’s a yes or no question Azzi,” Paige mocks. 
“That’s not it-”
“Then what is?”
“You’re getting married Paige,” Azzi yells, “you’re getting married,” she repeats again, softer this time, “to someone else. And so it doesn’t matter how I feel. It isn’t fair of you to ask and it wouldn’t- it wouldn’t be fair of me to answer. Not today. Maybe one day- one day it'll be the right time but not today.”
“And what if it’s never the right time?” 
“Then maybe it’s a question you were never meant to know the answer to.”
There’s something final in the quietness that follows, like they’re having a moment of silence at a funeral for what never even got to be. 
It’s Azzi who speaks first. 
“You’re gonna be a wonderful wife P.”
“You’re gonna be an amazing mom Az.”
They let it left unsaid that they were supposed to be wives to each other, that they were supposed to be moms together. 
***
March 2033 
Paige doesn’t know how long she stands outside, staring down the winding road that had taken Stephie and Azzi away from her. The neighborhood is slowly waking up and if the woman across the street opens her curtains and thinks it’s a little strange that her new neighbor is standing like a statue on her front porch, she only raises a slight eyebrow before going back to her day. It takes almost twenty minutes before her head finally convinces her heart that no matter how much she stands outside, they’re not coming back. 
There’s a part of her that can admit that maybe Azzi had a point and maybe she shouldn’t have asked her to stay over last night. But Paige has never been known for her common sense, especially not when it comes to Azzi. Because truth be told, asking Azzi to stay the night was perhaps the least ridiculous of the thoughts that had invaded her mind last night. It was easy- too easy- to fall right back into whatever with Azzi. She’d done a good job pretending that the nightly facetime calls had been for Stephie’s benefit but the truth is that they had become just as much a necessity for Paige. She’d fallen asleep with a smile on her face every night and the temptation to have that in person last night had been too hard to resist. And so she hadn’t. 
She makes it about three steps up the stairs, when the fort still set up in the living room catches her eye. And that’s when the first tear falls, and then the second and then the third until she thinks if she tried to swim in them, she’d probably drown. Paige abandons the idea of going up to her room and crawls back into the tent made of blankets. And she must be going insane because she swears she can still smell the faint scent of a toddler and Azzi’s lavender perfume on the pillow she cradles to her chest. It’s ridiculous to be so attached already. She knows that. Stephie isn’t hers but it feels like the little girl has crept underneath her skin, burrowing herself in a part of Paige’s heart that the blond didn’t even know was there. And Azzi- well no matter how long it’s been, no matter how much resentment Paige has held, the truth is that there’s a little patch of Paige’s soul  that will always belong to the younger woman. 
Paige barely registers herself falling asleep until there’s abrupt knocking on her door and she realizes she’s been cocooned in the fort for almost three hours. She hesitantly lets go of the pillow, groggily walking towards the door. It’s useless to pretend that she isn’t hoping it’s Azzi and Stephie on the other side, isn’t hoping that Azzi had realized her mistake, isn’t hoping to scoop both of them into her arms and fill the hollowness that’s been thrumming against her ribcage. God Paige has barely survived a month -a day if she’s completely honest- she doesn’t know how she’s going to survive this whole season. 
She crosses her fingers behind her back as she opens the door. 
“Hey,” Katie’s smiling face looks back at her, holding up a tray of coffee and a bag of something, “figured you haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”
Paige blinks stupidly as Katie lets herself in, moving through Paige’s house with ease and immediately locating the kitchen. She hands Paige a cup of coffee before ransacking through the bag and pulling out a glazed donut, “eat. I know you haven’t.”
“Does Azzi know you’re here?” Paige asks slowly before taking a bite out of her donut. 
Katie gives her pointed look, “who do you think gave me your address?”
“Is she- is she okay?” 
“You two are something you know,” Katie shakes her head, “you’re asking me if she’s okay and she sent me over here to make sure that you were okay.”
Paige feels her heart swell with after all this time, “she sent you?”
“I have breakfast with Azzi and Stephie every Sunday morning. Now imagine my surprise when I get there today and my oh so sweet and wonderful granddaughter isn’t talking to her mother. And so I forced the story out of Azzi and I barely understood a word she was saying through her tears-”
“She was crying?” Paige feels her lungs constrict. 
Katie shoots her an unimpressed look, “can I finish the story?”
“I don’t like this story. It has Azzi crying.”
“Yeah well the two of you seem to enjoy doing that to each other,” Katie cocks an unamused eyebrow and Paige flinches at the truth of it, “anyways I didn’t understand much of it but she was clear by the end. Seemed to think you needed someone, needed me and so here I am Paige.”
“Why is your daughter like this?” Paige demands, “how is she gonna make me cry and then send somebody else to wipe my tears.”
“Well I can leave-”
“Why couldn’t she just have stayed?” the blonde questions, “why does she always have to overthink things and make it more complicated? Why can’t she just listen to her heart once in her fucking life? Why can’t she just let herself live? Why is it always no with her and never just yes?”
Katie gives Paige a sad smile, reaching for her hand, “that’s why.”
“Please don’t speak in riddles. It’s 10 a.m and I’m sad,” Paige whines. She might be in her early thirties but there’s something about Katie Fudd that makes Paige feel like it’s okay to be a bit of a child.
“Why is it always no with her and never yes?” Katie repeats, “c’mon Paige you know that’s not about last night.”
“It is,” Paige argues stubbornly. 
“It’s not,” Katie says, gently squeezing Paige’s hand, “it’s about her saying no 8 years ago.”
“I’m ov-” Paige stops, withering under Katie’s glare, “okay maybe it’s a little bit about her saying no 8 years ago. But I’m allowed to still be upset about it. She broke my heart. I wanted forever and she walked away. I’m allowed to be mad about that.”
“Of course you’re allowed to be mad Paige but that’s exactly why Azzi had to go this morning. And it’s exactly why you shouldn’t have asked her to stay last night. You guys can’t just pretend none of it happened because it did. You’re still hurt Paige and ignoring that is gonna get you guys nowhere. Especially with Stephie involved.”
“So what are you saying? You’re saying me and Azzi should just be teammates? You’re saying I should just never see Stephie again,” even the thought of it makes Paige feel like she is laying down on a bed of thorns. 
“You’re so goddamn dramatic Bueckers,” Katie rolls her eyes, “I’m not saying any of that. I’m saying maybe you just need to take it slower, with both of them, instead of having a goddamn sleepover the literal first night you’re in the same city. Besides,” Katie gives her a knowing smirk, “my granddaughter is obsessed with her Miss Buecks. Pretty sure she’d find a way to see you again no matter what.”
“Good,” Paige lets out her first smile of the day, “because I’d find a way to see her again too. She just- she’s kinda great isn’t she? Azzi did a good job with that one. She’s- she’s perfect,” she looks at Katie who’s regarding Paige with a thoughtful expression, “what? Do I have donut glaze on my face?”
“No, no it just- I’ve seen that expression before.”
“What expression?”
“The one you just had on your face while talking about Stephie,” Katie laughs to herself, “it’s the same one Tim had when he first met Azzi.”
***
“Oh my god. It’s Paige Bueckers. Can I have your autograph?” Steph Curry winks at Paige as she walks into his office. The Golden State legend had started an after-school basketball camp for kids in the Bay Area and as soon as he’d heard the news of Paige coming over to the Valkyries, he’d messaged her if she’d be interested in helping him out in the off-season. Paige had been more than willing to be a part of it, always invested in giving back to her community. If she’d been excited by the idea before though, today, after the worst sleep of her night as she tossed and turned to the hopeless depression of not having spoken to Stephie and Azzi for far too long, Paige really needed this distraction. 
“Don’t think you can afford my autograph,” Paige smirks lazily as she basically droops into the seat opposite him. 
Steph laughs goodnaturedly, “welcome to the Bay Area kid.”
“I’m a little old to be called a kid don’t you think? I’m nearly 25,” Paige grins, wiggling her eyebrows.. 
Steph shakes his head, “nah you’re always gonna be a kid to me. You and Azzi both,” he chuckles to himself, “even though Azzi’s got her own kid now. Have you met her?”
Well that distraction lasted 30 seconds, Paige thinks to herself as she forces a smile onto her face, “yeah. I’ve seen her around.”
“She’s cute as hell right? And she knows it. Little miss bossy pants has everyone wrapped around her fingers. Kinda reminds me of Riley,” there’s a goofy expression as Steph thinks of his daughter and Paige wonders if the same one is reflected on her face as she thinks about Stephie, “and she’s a natural at basketball. Only five and her shot’s already pretty good. You’ll see it today when she comes to camp. And she’s pretty good at defense-”
“I’m sorry what?” Paige blinks rapidly. 
“I know. What defense can a 5 year old play but it’s just the way she moves you know?” Steph tries to explain and Paige shakes her head. 
“Not that. Stephie- Stephie’s coming to camp?”
Steph grins large and proud, “of course she is. She was the first camper I signed.”
“Right,” Paige nods, giving the man in front of her a tight smile, “can you- can you excuse me for one second.”
As soon as Paige is outside of Steph’s earshot, she’s calling Katie; Katie who had sat at her kitchen counter yesterday and listened with a smile as Paige told her all about Steph’s camp. Katie who hadn’t said one word about Stephie being a part of said camp. Katie who was maybe grinning just a little too hard at the idea. 
“Did you know Stephie goes to Curry Camp?” Paige asks as soon as the line connects. 
“Hi Katie. Hi Paige. How was your day? Oh mine was good Paige, thanks for asking, how was yours?” Katie replies sarcastically. 
“Katie,” Paige groans. 
“Did I know that my granddaughter goes to her godfather’s special camp for the sport that her mother plays and she’s obsessed with?” Katie says slowly and Paige can tell she’s holding back a laugh, “nope, didn’t have a clue. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“And ruin the surprise?”
“What happened to telling me to take things slow?” Paige hisses. 
“Well if I left the two of you two to your own devices y’all wouldn’t go slow, you wouldn’t even move at all,” Katie defends. 
“So you’re meddling?”
“I am not,” Katie protests, “you were always gonna help with the camp and Stephie’s already been going to the camp. I just didn’t let you stress out about it. Really you should be thanking me.”
“Thank you Katie,” Paige bites out mockingly. 
“You’re so very welcome Paige,” Katie sing-songs, “by the way, come over for dinner soon okay sweetheart. Love you honey. See you later darling.”
She hangs up before Paige can say anything and the blonde saunters back into Steph’s office, trying to corral her facial expression into something more neutral. 
“All good?” Steph asks. 
“Just peachy,” Paige hums in response, “we gonna head over to the court soon? It’s almost 4.”
Steph nods, “yeah they’ll be done setting up for us. Azzi usually brings Stephie to say hi to me right before cause no favoritism in front of the other kids you know? But maybe she’s running la- oh no wait there they are!”
Paige freezes, heartbeat erratic, as Steph walks to the door in anticipation. 
“UNCLE TWIN,” Stephie screams and something in Paige’s heart starts to fix itself at the sound of the younger girl’s voice. She’s scared to turn around, unsure if she’s more scared to realize it’s a dream or find out that it’s reality. 
“TWIN NIECE,” Steph yells back with equal vigor and Paige can hear Azzi’s laugh now too, each giggle acting like a needle, stitching up the parts of Paige that had felt broken since yesterday morning. She turns around deliberately slowly. Stephie is cradled in Steph’s arms and Azzi’s watching them with a fond smile. And it’s ridiculous to be jealous of a happily married man who’s practically Azzi’s brother if not her uncle, but the sense of that should be me, weighs heavily on Paige’s lungs anyways. 
It’s Azzi who sees her first, smile slowly fading as dark brown eyes clash with light blue ones. 
“Paige,” she whispers softly and there’s a multitude of undecipherable emotions wrapped in that one syllable and Paige thinks she could spend forever just trying to uncover them. 
Stephie’s ear perks up at the mention of Paige’s name as her own little eyes finally land on the blonde, shuffling her feet nervously in the corner. Her bottom lip trembles, eyes watering as she forces herself down from Steph’s lap, racing to Paige. It’s instinct the way Paige falls to her knees, ready to catch the bundle of limps that practically falls into her waiting arms. 
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers, “I missed you so much.”
Paige’s own eyes water as she buries her face in Stephie’s hair, “me too sweetheart. I missed you so, so, so much.”
In front of them, Steph looks beyond confused as to what's happening and Azzi’s determinedly looking away, even if there’s a lone tear waterfalling down her left cheek. 
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Stephie confesses, voice choked up as she tightens her grip on Paige’s neck, “and I begged and I begged Mama to let me call you but she said you were busy. And then I yelled at Mama and it made Mama cry too and I hate making Mama cry.”
“I know. I know sweetheart,” Paige soothes softly, running her hands down Stephie’s back as the little girl continues to babble. They stay like that for a long time and Paige thinks if she could ask the world for one thing that doesn’t belong to her, she’d ask for Stephie. 
Finally Steph coughs, looking apprehensively between the three girls in the room, “so um- I take it you’ve more than just seen Stephie around then Paige?”
Paige lets out a watery laugh, finally letting Stephie go and turning around but still keeping a hand on Stephie’s shoulder, “yeah I guess that’s true.”
“What are you doing here Miss Buecks,” Stephie asks, looking up at Paige. 
“I’m uh- well Mr. Steph-”
“Uncle Twin,” Stephie corrects immediately and Paige can’t help but grin at the nickname. 
“Right. Uncle Twin asked me to be a coach at his camp and I agreed,” Paige explains, trying to catch Azzi’s eyes but the shooting guard seems determined to focus on a picture of Steph and Ayesha on the wall instead. 
“You’re gonna be my coach,” Stephie squeals, turning around to hug Paige’s knees, “this is the best news of my life.”
Paige feels her heart soar into a sky of you’re the best new of my life Stephie as she bends down to kiss Stephie forehead, “let’s see if you say that when I make you run laps after you miss a shot.”
“You wouldn’t?” Stephie says, looking horrified at the idea. 
“I totally would,” Paige teases. 
Stephie is quiet for a second before a proud smirk blooms on her lips, “that’s okay ‘cause I don’t miss. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter. Right Mama?”
“Right baby,” Azzi says, finally letting herself meet Paige’s gaze. 
“Well Miss-I-Don’t-Miss, how about you walk over to the court and show us how you don’t miss,” Steph teases. 
Stephie waddles out of Paige’s grip and holds her arms up at Steph, a saccharine smile on her face,“I can’t be tired if I don’t wanna miss Uncle Twin, so can you please carry me over there?”
Steph rolls his eyes but it doesn’t stop him from hoisting Stephie onto his shoulders, “alright your highness, let’s go.”
Stephie’s giggles echoe down the hall as Steph runs towards the courts and Paige can’t help the fond laugh that escapes her. 
“She gets that from you, you know,” Paige says softly to Azzi. 
“Gets what?”
“Being a princess who gets everything she wants.”
“Not everything,” Azzi says wistfully, “not everything I want.”
She moves to start following but Paige wraps a hand around her wrist, “I didn’t know Stephie was a part of Curry Camp. I swear I- I didn’t do this on purpose.”
Azzi sighs, “I know. I know you wouldn’t Paige.”
“And I- I wanted to thank you for sending your Mom yesterday. I really- I really did need it even if I didn’t know it,” Paige’s thumb subconsciously rubs against Azzi’s skin, “but you- you always seem to know what I need.”
Azzi rips her hand out from Paige's grip, “you’re doing it again.”
“I’m not-”
“Yes you are. You keep saying things like that- things you shouldn’t say- things I can’t just listen to and be okay,” Azzi brushes her hand against her face, “I know the way I left yesterday was wrong and maybe I was projecting,” she admits in a whisper, “but you just- you make me feel too fucking much. And it's too quick and it’s scares me.”
“Scares you?” Paige scoffs, “I’m not the one who broke your heart Azzi.”
“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I’ve lived with that guilt for the last 8 years? Jesus fucking christ Paige. I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of me,” tears stream down Azzi’s face as she paces the room, “I have never heard Stephie cry so fucking much in my life Paige. And you know who did that to her? Me, I did that. Apparently I’m really fucking good at making people cry but I don’t want to. I don’t want to break her heart, I don’t want to break your heart and I don’t want to break my own heart. Not again.”
“Azzi-”
“And so I’m stopping it before it happens. Before I ruin it again.”
Azzi tries to leave again but Paige is faster, wrapping her arms around the younger woman’s waist and pulling her flush against her chest so she can’t escape. It’s a terrible idea because now all of her senses are consumed by Azzi as they both become acutely aware of how close they are now. 
“Paige,” Azzi whispers weakly, one hand pressed right against Paige’s heart, “let me go.”
“I think today’s the right time,” Paige says softly, hands grazing Azzi’s waist, “I asked you a question once and you said one day, when the time was right, you’d give me an answer. It’s the right time.”
“I don’t think so-”
“Azzi please,” Paige begs, “do you regret saying no?”
“Paige let me go,” Azzi wriggles against her grip but it only makes Paige tighten her hold. 
“It’s a simple yes or no question.’
“Stephie’s probably wondering where we are-”
“Then answer the damn question and we can go to her-”
“Paige please.”
“Answer the fucking question Azzi.”
“What do you want me to say?” Azzi bursts out finally, “you want me to say that I’ve never regretted anything more in my life? You want me to say the minute I said no, I wanted to rip out my tongue? You want me to say that I almost called you several times in the last decade to tell you how stupid I was? You want me to say that I flew to Dallas once to tell you that I fucked up but then I saw you with Olivia and decided you deserved better than me-”
“What?”  Paige feels the air being snatched from her lungs. 
“The answer to your stupid fucking question,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “is yes. Yes I regret saying no to you Paige. But it doesn’t matter. Because I said no and you found someone else who’d say yes and now it’s too late.”
And Paige thinks that Katie was probably right, that she should probably take things slow. But when it comes to Azzi Fudd, Paige Bueckers has never been one to do what she should. 
“It’s never too late for us,” Paige whispers before crashing her lips against the woman, who’s always been the reason for her biggest, brightest, most real smile.
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arachnoia · 1 year
Note
Hello! I was wondering if I could request Miguel touching himself as we talk to him over the phone? We can be aware of it or completely oblivious idc
GAH DAYUM ANON 🫣 ofc ofc ty! requests are open!
tags- just nsfw from this point, drabble !
—— Usually at 10 p.m in the evening, Miguel O’Hara wouldn’t be asleep but instead overlooking different universes. He just stays up in general, with complaints about wanting him to go to sleep. Even having a girlfriend wouldn’t stop him from staying up, in more ways than just “checking the universe”…
Like listening to you rant about other people you had a problem with at your job in your own universe.
“…And so like this one guy was telling me that my shots were blurry? Which wasn’t.”
“Uh huh.”
“And she was tellin’ our boss that I pushed her?! Oh my god you’d hate her.”
“Mhm.”
He smiled a bit. Again, usually he wouldn’t be listening to a person talk more than 3 minutes if it didn’t have to do with the multiverse. Until he began dating you which was a whole other story for another day.
“Are you even listening?!”
He widened his eyes at your outburst. Of course he was listening! He would listen to your heaven-sent voice every day.
“Yes. Of course I am, hermosa?”
He heard your breath steep for a minute before you let out a groan and a thud, “Oh fuck— Sorry I just knocked something over.”
He didn’t know why but felt blood rush down there. That noise you made sounded so melodic, so euphonious. Your voice alone makes him feel some type of way.
But that.
That was different.
He looked down to the tent in the lower part of his suit. It was pathetic, he knows. But it has to be taken care of. He bit his lip and stretched his arm to turn himself on mute.
And at a press of a button, he began stroking his exposed dick. He couldn’t help but feel like something is missing. That being your presence. Not just on telephone.
A smile played out on his lips as he imagined yours. Your beautiful pink lips talking. Your lips licking at a lollipop. Your lips around his cock as its stuffed down your throat.
Everything about you was ethereal to him. He looked at his hand jerking off his dick and moaned quietly.
He just wanted it to badly to be your hand doing that. Your hand struggling to grab onto his dick fully.
“Fuck, Y/N…Shit—”
Or for you to complain about how much he’s filling you up, complaining about how fucking big he is. All the things that would stroke his ego as well as the thought of your tight pussy around his dick, clenching around him.
“Mami…fuck…” he let out a stifled moan and kept pumping.
God, how he would love to have you leaving soft kisses around his dick. He bit his lip and threw his head back as he kept pumping until he let out his load on his thighs, frowning once he was done.
What a fucking waste.
He let out a deep sigh and rubbed at his temple, “Fuck, Y/N…The shit you do to me.”
“Uh huh…”
His eyes widened in panic as he saw his phone screen and realized that he wasn’t on mute.
There was a bit of silence before you spoke again, a dark and elusive tone dripping from your lips.
“So…Miguel.”
“I-”
“Save it for next time, baby. Maybe then, you won’t have to use your hand next time I see you.”
God, you were going to be the end of him.
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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 months
Text
➤𝓡𝓸𝔂𝓪𝓵 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓱
↳𝖮𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗈𝗋𝖽!𝖧𝗎𝗌𝗄
A/n: Short, next part will he longer, I just had to get this out.
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"Did ya hear about that massive party bein thrown at the casino?"
Turning to face your friend, you shrugged your shoulders. "I mean who doesn't know about it? You gotta be a fucking idiot? I know where you going with this and the answer is no also if I wanted to I can't because only High Class demons and Overlords are invited."
Rolling his eyes, Angel Dust slumped further into the chair.
Sitting down at the table, you bit your lip. Your heart pounding in your chest. One game, it was just one little game and one game couldn't hurt.
Right?
"Mind if I join you Miss?"
Your head snapped toward's the deep voice, your eyes going wide at who sat next to you. The very Overlord you were terrified about running into.
You've heard of him, captured glimpses of him but seeing him up close. He handsome, oh he was handsome.
'The suit fitted him perfectly and that smirk.'
"Okay!" You hated how meek you sounded but that only seemed to please him more. You swore he could hear your thought, god why was your heart racing so badly.
Keeping his gaze on you, the Overlord sat across from you and though he seemed so far you could still smell his cologne. "You look prettier than all the money I own...what's your name doll?"
"M-my name?" Your voice manages to squeak out as you glanced at the cards that were given to you. "W-why do you want to know my name?"
Leaning forward, Husk tilted his head to the side seeing how nervous you were. Wetting his lips a deep chuckle escaped him. "Just wanted to know the beauties name...but you don't gotta tell me if you don't wanna."
Relaxing your shoulders, you took a deep breath giving him a weak smile. "Thank you."
"Oh god!" Running out of the casino, you wanted to get out of the place as quick as possible. "Im going to die, im going to die."
Panicking, you rushed into the room you shared with your friend. Your heart pounding in your chest as you slammed the door.
"I beat the Overlord Husk at his own game! I just kept winning and...I'm going to die!"
Anthony's eyes went wide though he rubbed the back of his neck. "I...I'm sure you'll be okay. I mean he hot nothin to identify you by."
"My bracelet is gone!"
Running his tongue over his lips, Husk mentally cursed for not grabbing you when he had the chance, though the light bouncing off something caught his eye.
Titling his head to the side he bent down picking up the bracelet.
"Well...what do we have here.." The overlord turned the bracelet around, his gaze taking in the different gems along with the lingering scent of a perfume that hit him.
Oh he will find you and he will make you his. Ever King need's his Queen, you two will make the perfect pair.
Thank god for the camera's.
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sukunas-wife · 8 months
Note
YOU NEED TO MAKE MORE DAD!SUKUNA😭 It’s just soo good!!!, I’m literally obsessed with Dad!sukuna🫶🏻
lol here’s a little snippet to start the day, in other words I had a domestic dream 🥺🤍
Jujutsu Teacher Sukuna AU
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Somewhere in another time line Sukuna became a not so dedicated teacher at Jujutsu high school still after having turned himself into a curse, even 1000 years he landed a spot on the higher up’s board it hilarious when they try to execute someone and he completely disagrees.
They learned quickly is Sukuna disapproves of their actions agree with arrimen Sukuna. Don’t go behind his back and try to do it either. He’s not afraid to kill everyone and replace the entire board of Higher Ups
Then one year he met you, you came in from the sister school to be teacher. Usually he tried not to mess with staff they only last so long anyways. But maybe it was that time he saw you banging your head in the drink machine because you used your last bills to buy a drink and it got stuck. Or maybe it was that time Gojo and Toji surprisingly decided to team up against you and you managed to hold your own.
It was when YOU started to pursUE HIM he became really intrigued. At first he became annoyed because not to far behind the corner he could hear the snickering and “Oh she’s really doing it!” “She’s a brave woman to try and flirt with him…” “What are you idiots do- oh, this could be interesting.” “shhh, I can’t hear what he’s saying!”
You didn’t notice when he flicked his wrist, but you did hear your coworkers panic and the rushed steps. Looking back confused you were more confused when you looked back at Sukuna and he was leaning forward getting face to face with you before squishing your face in one of his hands. “You do understand you proud Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t live very long, so give me one good reason you want my attention.”
You wanted to badly to look away from those demanding red eyes, to pull away and breath the God given air, instead here you were getting dazed off his musk and cologne. Feeling his warm hand squish your face, nails lightly pressing against your skin. Smash- swallowing you had one chance to do this right. Don’t stutter, don’t fear, breath, don’t rush, don’t show him WEAKNESS.
“I J- ahem” ah.. I messed up already, “Wait let me restart- Okay I’m ready, I’m not gonna stand here and promise happiness smiles and endless love, praise and worship. I’m not gonna lie to your face and tell you everything you want to hear and pretend it’s all sunshine and rainbows. When I go on a mission I’m not gonna say I promise to always come back that would be a fools move. But at least in my last moments I’d have to privilege to remember you and all those wise words you used to tell me like. “Dumbass that’s why you keep more than two dollars in your wallet.” Or “Living to please others and dying with regrets if no helping everyone is vain, Live to please yourself at least in your final moments you’ll have some sense of fulfillment.” So like it or not I’m here to please myself if you say No and tell me to fuck off and send me on my way. I won’t regret having asking. If you say yes, well I won’t lie I wouldn’t really know what to do or say I came in expected to be rejected and humbled.” Finally your eyes left his, you were oblivious to stare he had. He wasn’t completely amused but he wasn’t bored of your words either. “Look at me.” You did, “you didn’t bore me entirely with your little … speech so I’ll give you one opportunity. Sunday, I have an early mission, meet me here at 4 in the morning and I’ll tell you with me. After I finish you can have the rest of my day or until I get bored.”
He didn’t get bored… it turned out you amused him so much more when you weren’t surrounded be suits.
And that’s how you ended up here.
“Yuji don’t say something stupid love can’t protect anyone.” Nobara rolled her eyes, “Yuh huh, your words can’t hurt me because my mom and dad’s love protects me.” He puffed his chest out crossing his arms and smiling with closed eyes, missing the book Nobara was throwing at him. A solid sound was made, Yuji was wide eyed, the all to familiar wrist holding the heavy book just in front of his face, “Careful Miss.Kugisaki it’d be a shame if you caught extra missions for disabling another student from completing his own.” Yuji smiled proudly, “See, protected.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes, “Get to class Fushiguro was on your ass last time for being late to class.” He nodded his head at Yuji who just smiled sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, “Alright.” Of course the Trio ran past you greeting you with “Hi Mrs.Sukuna!” Good morning Mom!” “Morning Y/n Senpai.” You watched them all keep running until your husband stood next to you offering you the Coffee Cup he had been drinking. You were distracted by one thing “Why do you have our photo album?” Sukuna felt his eye twitch, “Damn brat.” Was all he mumbled tucking it under his shoulder, “Your son believes your love protects him.”
You laughed, “OUR son believes OUR love for him protects him. Considering your holding that book Im assuming Kugisaki tried to throw it at him or you were reminiscing on that time you had to save them from a Special Grade ambush and when you had to carry them all out Yuji was sniffling how he knew he could count on you to be there for him.”
He looked away, “Higher ups are lucky I only wiped out half of them.” You rested your head on his shoulder pulling the album from him. “Aaww this is Yuji’s baby album” you cooed seeing the picture of Sukuna holding Yuji next to a bouquet of “It’s a Boy!” Balloons. In the background you could see the blur of Geto smacking Gojo on the back of the head.
Sukuna is secure as a man and father 🥹
So it’s not a surprise to you when you come home late from the school and find true form Sukuna threatening to break the sofa under his weight coddling 15yo Yuji 🥹
As much of a brute people have him to be, Yuji might be his only son, and he might call him brat and roll his eyes a lot. But he’d be damned if he were truly a bad dad. In a whispered conversation he told you about everything that happened on Yuji’s mission. How the mission was purposely miss graded and they basically walked into a special grade curses domain. Sukuna had no doubt in his mind that if wouldn’t have been the one over seeing their mission the first years wouldn’t have walked back out alive.
Yuji was alright the entire ride but when he got home he broke down crying, speechless gasping for air. That’s when Sukuna pick him up carrying him over the sofa, coddling Yuji wasn’t as easy now that they were almost the same height, so he turned to his true form. And let Yuji cry, scream and hold onto him. Rubbing his back, holding his head against his shoulder, just talking to him to comfort him. “Do you remember that time we went to the park, and you wondered off to far chasing a duck.” Yuji nodded still sniffling, “Your mom was scared shitless when she couldn’t find you.” He laughed and Yuji laughed lightly, “y.. yeah I remember I jumped into the pond and then you and mom started screaming and then jumped in…” sukuna laughed louder, “Y/n was so mad but she couldn’t stay mad when she saw you with that little duck.” He patted Yuji’s back resting his chin on his head. Soon Yuji fell asleep.
It led you to find him this state. You asked him to go lay him in his bed, he did. He came to help you make some comfort food, it was hilarious when you asked if he could use dismantle on vegetables and it turned out he could. Now over the table in the wall is a sign that says “Malevolent Kitchen.”
The house that night was filled with the soft sounds of cooking, you and your husband talking about whatever came to mind. The Golden pot boiling with whatever broth you made. Sukuna was fighting the rice cooker while you tempura fried some shrimp and rolled some noodles to cook
It was well past 9 when you heard Yuji coming, both of you turning to see him walking yawning and rubbing his eyes. Bare feet padding along the kitchen floor. “Come sit down Yu you gotta be hungry.” you fixed him a large bowl of noodles with Tempura shrimp. On the side were the massive Onigiri Sukuna had made, he even tried to use the nori stamp to put little faces on them. More often than not they have 4 little crooked eyes that looked mad but it squeezed your heart how he laughed to himself saying “Yuji’s going to love these.”
He did, you watched as he bit into it rice sticking to his face. “These are good dad what did you fill them with?” “Nitamago we forgot to pack em for lunch so.. improvise I guess.” You both sat down with Yuji talking and eating. Just enjoying the free time you had together before Sukuna would go commit another crime against the higher ups 🤍🤍
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Yeah 🥹
Im here 10-1 in the morning 🤍 It took all day to type this out 😭😭
Also a lot of my co workers walked out today 🥹 it was rough
Tag List: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare
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windvexer · 5 months
Text
Using tarot to read on magical events in your own practice: quick theory, new card meanings, and spread ideas
this post is OC based on my personal tarot practice; the examples given are hypothetical for the sake of this post.
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Well-meaning guy: "If you think that event was a bad omen, why not read tarot to clarify?"
Person who learned tarot from popular online resources and introspection-focused art decks: "I drew the 6/Cups, so I guess my ward falling off the wall is about my inner child?"
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Tarot meanings change and evolve over time. Historical meanings are often not the same, or even contrary to, modern meanings. (Consider, 6/Pentacles: the French present moment was misinterpreted to mean presents, gifts).
By acknowledging that many modern meanings available for tarot cards are modern interpretations for modern concerns, many of which have fuckall to do with witchcraft, we can also acknowledge that we can apply our own sets of meanings to tarot to achieve personal interpretations in pursuit of personal goals.
I call this concept symbol sets, and you can apply your own symbol sets to certain tarot readings in order to rapidly obtain information about magical events in your life.
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Symbol sets can be swapped out for each reading. You can intend to operate on your "normal meanings" for a typical reading, and then intend to operate with "magical omen meanings" for another reading.
There are no such things as universal tarot card meanings; there are some traditional meanings, some historical meanings, and many modern meanings. Adjust what each card means to you to your heart's delight.
The more symbol sets I've developed and practiced with, the more versatile and accurate my tarot reading has become. Working with custom symbol sets might be the single biggest leap in my reading ability in 16 years of practice. At least, it feels that way!
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Quick n' Dirty Symbol Set for Magical Omens, Appropriate for Everyday Use
1. Apply general portents to each suit which matches your magical practice.
Here is one set that could be suitable to troubleshooting potentially magic events:
Swords, or Air: Misfortune, betrayal, malefica, ill-intent, adversity, due to harmful (even if unintentional) spirit action, pointless or wasted effort. Sometimes, banishing, binding and hexes.
Wands, or Fire: A lot of power, excessive power, due to your own actions, uncontained energy, something you did was very much overdone. Sometimes, protection and empowerment.
Pentacles, or Earth: Mundane, physical and normal reasons, an everyday occurrence, mundane but natural growth and change. Sometimes, unlocking and unblocking.
Cups, or Water: Blessings, magic working as intended (even if unexpectedly), the normal course of magical events, magical growth and change. Sometimes, cleansing and purifying.
Major Arcana: Guiding spirits and gods; their behaviors, guidance, or messages.
A spirit worker might like to add an additional layer of complexity, which modifies the prior set:
Court Cards: The actions of another being, such as a practitioner, god, or spirit, whether they acted intentionally to bring about the event or not.
(Further breakdown, as an example: Swords courts are beings intentionally acting badly; Wands courts are the most important spirits of your path; Pentacles courts are mundane folk or spirits unrelated to your path; Water courts are other practitioners, or spirits related to your path without being in your "inner court.")
Interpret any card drawn within these principles. Here are a few random examples. Let's say, a money spell has failed to produce results, and we'd like to know why.
5/Cups [disappointment, failure]: This is the normal course of magical events; the spell wasn't cast well, and so nothing is happening.
9/Wands [determination, boundaries]: A lot of energy was raised, but incorrectly targeted or released; the energy is cooped up.
Judgment [judgment]: An important spirit in your path wants you to deal with what you have been avoiding, and will interfere with your magic until you face them.
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Spread Ideas
"What's going on with that thing?" | 3 cards
Card 1: The source or cause
Card 2: The current state of affairs
Card 3: Suggested action
Example; the money jar doesn't work: Card 1, King/Swords: The source of failure was the person in the discord server who promised to curse you for not feeling the same way about Destiel as they did. Card 2, Page/Pentacles: The current state of affairs is that as a symptom of the curse, an unaware person or spirit is blocking the prosperity you seek. Card 3, Queen/Cups: Ask a benevolent spirit or helpful practitioner friend to assist you in unblocking the situation.
Determining responsibility | 2 cards
Card 1: Why this thing happened
Card 2: Why it didn't happen; one thing that wasn't the cause at all
Example; the ward fell off the wall: Card 1, 10/Pentacles: This happened because of random happenstance in the home; it was not a magical event. Card 2, Ace/Swords: This action was unrelated to malefica or bad spirits or things like that.
Foresight Before Acting | 4 cards
Card 1: The current state of affairs
Card 2: The outcome of your intended plan of action
Card 3: Recommended plan of action
Card 4: The outcome of the recommended plan
Example; the spirits did not seem to appear during a spirit petition spell: Card 1, 3/Wands: Sufficient energy was raised to attract the attention of spirits, but they may not have been properly called to action. Card 2, 6/Swords: Your plan to call the spirits back and re-cast the spell is a fruitless attempt at a transition into a new plan. Card 3, Empress: Communicate with your primary goddess or powerful spirit of the earth and obtain input and guidance. Card 4, Magician: This plan will result in obtaining important magical information about this type of summoning spell you are trying to achieve.
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2smolbeans · 2 months
Note
Yan Satan with a MC who is blind so they can't read on their own (because I don't think there'd be a "instant braille" spell unless Solomon made one)
So it's just Satan constantly time hoarding MC, and the rest of the brothers fuming and getting "oh no Satan is so nice! He helps me 'read' and is super descriptive too! What do you mean he's scary?!"
Because MC can't see the death glare TM..
And, adding onto this MC basically as nicely as possible being like 'I really appreciate you helping me out...but I kinda prefer when Satan does since he describes everything so vividly! Sorry 😅'
Aww..Dang that's actually really cute and wholesome the more I think about it-
Yandere Satan with a Blind Mc
I feel like there would be an instant braille, this is a world of magic- anything is possible. Perhaps there's a spell that gets a guiding spirit/creature to read it out the words, or a spell that can change the texture of the text you're trying to read from into braille or whatever suits your needs.
But does Satan want you to know that? Not really.. He'll probably keep it a secret from you and glare at anyone who tries to tell you. I mean why would you need to know that when he's there for you 24/7 at your beck and call? He loves it when you rely on him, he wants nothing to take that away from him- even if it means stripping your independence.
You like to read, and it's something you have in common with Satan. He'll take you to his room that is filled with an abundance of books to choose from. There's a comfortable bed near the glass window in his room that plush. Usually during your reading sessions, he'll sit on the bed, back propped up straight against a pillow. He'll then call you, using magic to softly guide you towards him. He'll have you nicely comfortable against his chest with his arms secure either side of you while holding the book. With honeyed words, Satan will describe every detail in that chapter, making your fully invested. He'll use magic to fully immerse you into the story, casting spells to bring in sounds, scents, and sensations that are described in the chapter.
You love it! You can picture the scene clearly in your head with his words and your 4 senses being tested. It's why you don't mind being dragged into his room constantly to binge read, its probably why your not even aware that he's hoarding you all to himself! Satan loves the fact that you favor your time with him, he adore the way you snuggle into him, or how you gasp when he uses his magic to entertain you.
He loves you. You're his joy. You're the one thing that sedates his rage and makes him feel so blissful. You're what peace feels like.. And it's why when his brothers began to nag at him, he gets pissed off. Pissed off is an understatement, he sees red when he sees his brothers trying to get your attention. It's even worse when he finds out they're trying to replicate his special time with you. My god he wants to rip them to shreds. But he can't, and he knows it'll end badly if he does. So he resorts to violence. Taking out his anger out on any poor soul he finds. He tears through his entire room, cursing, screaming, angry, tears in his eyes as he bangs his head against the wall. His room is in utter shambles.
Why couldn't they let him have this one thing? Fuck, he hates the fact that he can't do anything. But that all changes when he hears your soft sincere voice apologizing. "S-Sorry but..I like it when Satan reads it for me..Can we do something else?" "Ah..Its not like I don't like spending time with you! Reading is just more of me and Satan's thing.." "I promise I'll hangout tomorrow..I just really want to read my story!" Well, you just raised his pride and ego. Upon hearing this, he'll be through the roof. Going to his room, he'll make everything clean and whole- hell he'll add some special candles, soft airy blankets, and more pillows for when you come back to him! He'll try to hide his excitement when you show up to his door. Knocking on it softly, calling out his name. Grinning ear to ear like an eager puppy, Satan will happily let you in.
"There you are..I've been holding myself off for this chapter. I'm so glad you're here because I don't know how long I would've lasted.." "Hey no cheating! Anyways.. Can we read it today? Together..?" "No need to ask me twice. Come, get comfortable"
And there you are, his pride, his joy, his lovely human. You're in his arms right were you belong. While he reads he enjoys the way he can hear your soft breathing, your wonderful scent he can't get enough of, and your warmth he could just cuddle into. He loves this, he loves you. And he wouldn't dream of letting you go.
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