#i do have to wake up for work in less than 5 hours and i’m still out BUT

[exopelagic]

okay facing consequences of my actions

[deklo]

i deleted my anxiety post earlier but my friends bday dinner was so cute it was just her housemates and an old friend and i loveee her housemates now i’m drunk and having such a good time :)

[crowcryptid]

Going a little crazy cause of my 12 hours a day job which only pays 8 hours because commute time isn’t considered and I spend over half the day doing nothing because it’s more like a part time that’s been artificially stretched out and also the job is done entirely online and I’m only forced to come in person because of boomer bosses I’m going a little crazy

[kiss-inthekitchen]

favorite insomniac | spencer reid

a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words

You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all. 

Obviously not great. But not insomnia.

Tonight, however, is not a usual night.

You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM. 

Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable. 

You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows. 

And then you give up. 

There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him. 

“Hey,” he says, voice raspy. 

Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.” 

“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t sleep?” 

His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?” 

You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart. 

“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–” 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?” 

“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“No, you’re not wrong.” 

You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound. 

“What did you call me for then?” 

Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.” 

“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”

“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?” 

He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.” 

“Now you tell me.” 

“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”

“You're what?!"

"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.

"Now? You have a car?” 

“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”

[csuitebitches]

How to Wake Up Early

I always wanted to be one of those girls who would wake up early, go for a run and be super productive with their mornings. The issue is - i really love sleep. Every time i would start a routine, i would eventually fail. I would wake up to turn the alarm off, think to myself “5 mins more” and boom- it’s suddenly 8:30 am and i need to leave for work in less than 1 hour.

Two videos on YouTube really changed my mind. One was Andrew Huberman’s, and the other was Jihyo, a k-pop star.

I came across Andrew Huberman’s video about dopamine, and somehow, it helped me to understand why the difficulty waking up early is so important. Now I’m no expert of neuroscience, but let me explain to the best of my abilities.

Dopamine is essentially the build up to the reward; it is not the reward. It is the satisfaction and happiness you feel (when your body releases), after you have achieved something that was painful/ required you to struggle a bit. In order to receive this reward, you have to feel pain, because pain and satisfaction are directly related to each other. Satisfaction without pain is useless and does nothing for you essentially.

That got me wondering: for me, waking up early is difficult. It’s painful. I dont want to do it. But if I do it, its my first win of the day. It’s the first challenge I have overcome of that day, and I always do feel amazing after. The dopamine release after the struggle of waking up and winning the battle of not going back to sleep is definitely there. I feel more confident because a) I have done the “right” thing b) selfishly, i can do something so simple that a lot of people struggle with c) it weirdly makes me feel more confident and like I’m doing the first step of being an adult right.

Jihyo’s video was quite random - she did some show where it shows her daily life when she’s not working. Parts of it made me feel like she’s unable to just relax with herself (probably because her body and mind are so used to chaos, performing, her girl group living together for so many years) so she busies herself a lot. I took the positives from the video; she’s extremely disciplined which I admired, she gets her chores done, she’s good at ensuring that her space is truly her space.

So I decided to build a relatively foolproof routine; but mind you, it does require quite a bit of willpower.

I’ve developed a habit of waking of waking up at 5 am. I head straight for a 30-45 minute meditation and then at least an hour long workout. I stack my habits that way; right after meditation, I put on my running shoes. I used to really struggle with waking up, even if I had to wake up late. This is the strategy that worked me, see if it works for you.

1. Reset your space the night before

This makes you feel less stressed in the morning and also genuinely makes you feel like you have your shit together. Put your clothes away, keep your bag in its place, clean up your desk, reorganise your make up and skin care products. You’re going to go to sleep and wake up to a clean space.

Make sure you define both your bedtime and wake up time. My bedtime is 9:30 pm - so i manage my chores, reading, dinner, everything around that.

2. Early dinner

I’ve noticed that early dinners help me sleep better. I’ve built the habit of casually walking for 25-30 minutes post dinner (not right after eating, after about 15 mins). I’m not walking fast to a point where I’m sweating and puffing, I’m casually strolling outside. During this time, I don’t listen to music, interact with anyone or my phone. I use this time to connect with myself and think about whatever I feel like.

3. No devices before sleeping

I don’t want to stimulate myself before sleeping, so I prefer reading before bed. If you don’t like reading, you can instead do your skincare, maybe revise some physical study notes, etc.

4. Using Alarmy app

This app is torture and I swear by it. This little thing makes you a solve a challenge of your choice in order to make the alarm stop, like math problems, puzzles, etc. I chose 5 math problems.

5. Keep your phone across the room

Don’t charge it near your reach. Keep it as away from you as possible.

6. Stand for two minutes after shutting off the alarm

Don’t allow yourself to snooze, or go back to bed. This is the part that really requires you to tell yourself: “i am not going back to sleep. I’m going to wake up and do the things I have to do for my own benefit.” Remember - the states of heaven and hell are not outside of you, they’re inside you. They are mental states. You have to fight with your lazy demon and tell him/her/whoever that NO; we are NOT going back to bed.

I charge my phone across the room so that forces me to walk first thing in the morning. To stop myself from going back to sleep, after i have shut the alarm off, i just stand for 2 minutes. I dont sit, or go back to bed. I stand and tell myself, we’re doing this. We’re going to wake up and have an amazing day.

Your mind is like a child with tantrums and mood swings. Your rational self has to discipline your mind the way a parent would to a child.

7. Turn a small light on

Not something that is jarring or overwhelming, but enough to help you start waking up. I turn my phone’s flashlight on and keep it on my desk.

8. Be consistent, even on weekends

The biggest mistake you can make is not being consistent. Your body doesnt recognise weekends, your mind does. Your body doesn’t know that tomorrow is Monday, so its time to wake up early. By staying consistent (yes, I wake up at 5 am on weekends too), it allows my body to develop its own body clock and not wrecking the system I’ve kept in place.

What do I do if I have a late night?

It really depends. Let’s say I come home relatively early (+2 hours around my bedtime) around 11 pm, and im in bed by 11:30. I’ll wake up somewhere close to 5 am, like 6 am instead. The next day I ensure I’m in bed by the bedtime I’ve kept for myself and wake up at 5 am again.

If I come home really late, like 3 am - i keep my alarm exactly 8 hours from that time. I need to get sleep, but oversleeping is an issue and that wont allow me to wake up early the next day. I want to get enough sleep where im rested for the day, but not excessively. Unfortunately, sleeping so late would definitely mean that i wont be able to fall asleep at my dot 9:30 pm bedtime, but i turn the lights off and get ready to sleep by then anyway, and mentally prepare for my 5 am wake up call.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hiii!! I was wondering if you could do a Luke x f.reader who is a daughter of Hephaestus and basically she’s jealous of the the Aphrodite girls and how Luke seems to take a liking to one of them, and so f.reader tries to change herself a bit to get Luke to notice her but instead one of Apollo son’s does and luke gets jealous. 🫣👀

𝒴ℴ𝓊’𝓇ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒽ℯ𝓇

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

I made this longer than it had to be. 😭 so sorry.

Warnings: jealousy, some angst

You watched him pass by. Your best friend, the boy you’ve had a crush on since you saw him at the camp years ago. When he was just a small, scared, confused little boy.

Usually, he would give you a smile and sit with you. Not today. He was talking with one of the other counselors, one of the Aphrodite girls.

The Aphrodite girls. Most of them were kind, loving. They were beautiful. And you were stuck forging swords, which you loved. But you felt a pang in your heart as you watched him sit down with her instead. She laughed with him about Gods know what.

You stared at them from afar, eating your food as your friends and siblings talked amongst themselves. You would get his attention again. You were determined to.

You watched over the younger campers, watching them as they hammered and drilled. Your arms were folded, calling out some people and helping them, correcting them.

“It’s good. But it’s dull. Make it less curved , and sharper.” You spoke when one of them handed you a sword they had made. You smiled at them and they nodded, wiping the sweat from their forehead and going back to their station.

“Hey.” Someone said from behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder making you jump slightly. You whipped around, your eyes meeting those brown ones that you knew too well.

“Hi.” You replied, swallowing the lump in your throat and turning back to the kids, facing away from him. The Aphrodite girl.

“Are you alright..?” He asked you, noticing how you seemed off.

“I’m fine.” You said simply, his hand left your shoulder and he frowned.

“I was just wondering if tomorrow you wanted to go to that party at the lake with me. Like… 6?”

You smiled to yourself, covering your face so he couldn’t see and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I’ll see you later.” He said, a small smile on his own face as he walked away.

Your sibling came up to you, a smirk on her face. “If you don’t just ask him out already…”

“Shut up.” You playfully hit her in the arm, rolling your eyes at the girl.

After watching the kids, you took a shower, and sighed as you flopped down onto your bed, tired from the day. It was dark out, and late.

You fell asleep quickly, and woke up to your sibling shouting something in your face.

“What? What’s wrong?” You grumbled, turning to the side and shutting your eyes again.

“Wake up! You’re gonna be late.”

“Late for what?”

“You’re checking the cabins today, with Luke, remember?”

“Oh. Shit,” you mumbled, sitting up and stretching. You got up, put on some baggier clothes when you had a thought.

That Aphrodite girl.

You would be with Luke for about an hour, why not try to make yourself look presentable? You thought.

You did your hair, brushed your teeth, then grabbing some moisturizer and putting it on your face. You put mascara on, even grabbed a thing of lip gloss, putting it in on and then in your pocket.

You changed your clothes, taking off your hoodie and putting your camp half blood shirt, which you were supposed to have on while checking the rooms.

You looked through your closet, and ended up with a pair of flared jeans instead of the baggy cargos you usually wore when you were with the kids at the work station. You put on a pair of boots that matched and you looked at yourself in a dirty mirror.

You shrugged, and left the cabin. You would be able to show off more, at the party.

You grabbed your clipboard and paper, going up to Luke now.

“You’re late. I already checked mines and Athena’s.”

“Oh yeah? Did yours get a 4 again?” You joked.

“No… we got a 5.” He said. “Which still isn’t good but…”

“That’s shocking.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed. He noticed something different about you. He looked closely at your face as you both walked to the other cabin.

“Are you… wearing mascara?” He said after realizing it. Your pants were different too. He noticed it all.

“Yeah… why?”

“Nothing. Just never seen you do that.” Something was wrong, he knew it. Something in his chest says that something was wrong. You’d told him once you don’t wear that much because your face gets dirty anyways, after forging and even just watching over them.

You shrugged and you both acted like nothing was wrong. Then after a while of checking it was time to head to the Aphrodite ones, the last cabin.

You tensed, and of course, Luke being the most observant, noticed when he looked at you. He put a hand on your shoulder, not knowing what was wrong but trying to bring some comfort anyways.

“Okay.” He breathed out, knocking on the door. All the Aphrodite girls were on their beds, waiting patiently. It was perfect, nothing spilled or a clutter.

The girl you saw Luke with yesterday waved to him. He waved back, giving a small smile. You tried to ignore the tears that started welling in your eyes.

Why were you so jealous?

“It’s a 10.” You spoke up, voice cracking slightly.

He nodded in agreement. You just left the cabin in a rush, you ignored everyone around you as you headed to your cabin.

Why couldn’t he look at you instead?

You took off your camp shirt, looking through your side in the closet once more. Nothing. There was nothing that could catch his attention in there. It was all dirtied, old, worn-out t-shirts. The party was soon.

"You need help?" Thank the Gods for your sisters.

They all got the best shirts they had. Crop tops, tank tops, baby tees, all of it. The boys ignored it, sitting on their beds and talking.

One that caught your eye was a pink cropped long sleeved shirt, it hugged your body when you put it on, showing your curves. The girls squealed when you came out, they all complimented you.

"I have the best mini skirt for that." One of them said, you quirked an eyebrow.

She handed it to you, and you went back into the bathroom.

"It's adorable!" she said.

It wasn't you, though. It didn't feel right. You just put on a smile as you headed outside.

"I'll kill him if he does anything." One of your brothers mumbled under his breath.

"Stop being overprotective, Alex." One of your siblings rolled her eyes.

It felt odd walking out like that, but you held your head high. Luke was going to walk past, thinking you were just one of the aphrodite girls until he saw your face.

"Y/N?" he asked, he was shocked.

"The one and only." You stopped walking, he stood in front of you.

"You look..."

You were nervous to hear his next words.

"different."

You just nodded. "It's a party, Castellan.

"Sorry. Just not used to it. Shall we go, madam?" he asked, faking a posh accent at the last sentence, his arm extended.

"We shall." You said with the same accent, smile on your face, locking your arm with his as you both walked to the lake.

About an hour or two later you were standing by the lake, your feet dipping into the water as you stared out. He had been talking with the Aphrodite girl again.

Why not you?

You didn’t hear the Apollo kid behind you until he sat next to you, two drinks in his hand.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hi.” Not turning to look at him.

“I was just over there, and I thought you were really… gorgeous.” He said, looking you up and down. “Would you want this?” He asked, handing you a drink. You hesitated but took it.

But he’s not Luke.

You turned now to give him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“What’s your name?”

You told him your name and he told you his.

“Oscar. After Oscar Wilde.” He said, a small laugh escaping him. You smiled and nodded.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

“I was with a friend but…” you shrugged.

It was soon that Luke had overheard a conversation with some of Oscar’s friends.

“Nah, he’s not here, he’s trying to take some girl to his cabin. Think her name is like, y/n? Some Hephaestus girl.”

Luke glanced over there when he heard that. You were talking with the boy. Oh he was going to kill this guy.

He walked over, fuming as he neared him.

“Luke?” You asked, furrowing an eyebrow as he walked over. Oscar turned around too now, his face flushed as he realized Luke was coming for him.

Luke grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, whispering something in his ear as you tried to get him off.

“Don’t ever come near her again.” Is what he said, dropping him onto the floor, he ran away and back to his friends. Everyone was watching you guys now.

“What?” Luke shouted to them. They quickly turned around.

“Luke, what the hell was that for?!”

“He was trying to…” he began to speak, his anger faded off once he saw the look on your face.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, not sure what else to say.

“Luke, what is wrong?” You asked him. “Did I do something?” Your voice cracked, your eyes welling up again. His own eyes were glossy now.

“No. You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why do you keep leaving me for that Aphrodite girl?”

The truth comes out. He stares at you, confused for a moment.

“Aphrodesia?”

You nodded.

“I… is that why you…?”

“Yes! Luke…”

“I was hanging out with her because I had no clue how to ask you out.” He said with his voice slightly raised, you stood there, feeling guilty.

“Oh.”

“She was telling me how to, giving me ideas. But now I see that I should have just asked.” His words were quiet now.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

“I’m sorry. And the reason for.. that whole thing.” He motioned to the party. “Was that I got jealous. I got jealous, and then I overheard some of his friends saying how he was planning on taking you back to his cabin.”

“I guess we both got jealous.” You said with a small laugh, he smiled and nodded.

“Can I still go out with you?”

You nodded with a smile. “I’d like that.”

—

“You did look gorgeous tonight.” He told you as he walked you back to your cabin. “But I like you no matter what you wear. You’re gorgeous either way.”

“Thank you.” You said, laughing. “It did feel kind of weird. I don’t think I like it.” You were now in front of your cabin, holding his hand in yours.

You both gazed into each others eyes, when he suddenly spoke up.

“Can I kiss you?”

You were shocked by his question. You didn’t answer and he began to apologize before you cut him off, crashing your lips into his. His hands went straight to your waist.

“You wanna know something?” He asked once your lips left his, voice a whisper.

“Hmm..?” You whispered back.

“You’re better than any of the Aphrodite kids.”

[how2loa]

how do i wake up to my dream life?

HOW2LOA : manifest overnight !

thank you for the ask! this is a really good question and it’s one i’m sure a lot of people have so hopefully this post is helpful!

first off, i would like to mention that i personally do not recommend manifesting on a time crunch. focusing on time can cause you to think your manifestation is just out of reach and make you identify as the version of yourself that doesn’t have your desire and is manifesting. now, in principle, there is nothing wrong with manifesting, but we want to be the version of ourself that IS and HAS, rather than the version that is TRYING TO BE and IS MANIFESTING. focusing on time might stress you out and discourage you if your manifestations don’t come before your set deadline. if that is the case, i recommend revising on the spot and pretending you did receive your manifestation.

now, onto how to actually wake up in your dream life!

# 1 — think it is possible!

you do not need to 100% believe in manifestation for it to work, however having that belief to fall back on is crucial. it is what will keep you motivated and trusting that this is not just wishful thinking and you’re not crazy. even having 5% belief in the fact that manifesting is just that easy and you can have all that you want in 24 hours or less is enough.

# 2 — pick a method!

we all know that repetition is key and that is how our brain learns quickest. there are multiple ways to do this, either through roboting affirming, rampaging, sats, scripting, embodiment, the list goes on. pick what you prefer and stick to it. doing a technique, being impatient, blaming the technique and switching to a different one again and again will get you nowhere. however make sure you pick a technique you enjoy or have had previous success with. different ways work for different people so what might work for me might not work for you.

# 3 — saturate your mind!

depending on your method, this might look a bit different for each person. before you fall asleep, lay in a comfortable position, relax yourself and practice your chosen method. if you like robotic affirming, start to affirm in your head until you fall asleep. falling asleep in this state is really important as you are in the alpha and theta brainwave frequencies where your subconscious is wide open. this means it will accept whatever you feed it as true. persist persist persist in your new story!

# 4 — assume your desire is fulfilled!

accept that you making the decision to be the version of yourself that is living their dream life is enough to shift you to that reality. no crazy rituals, no crazy techniques or affirming for 82619462 hours. just following your happiness, staying consistent with living in the end and flipping opposing thoughts. you are who you claim to be NOW- not in the future, not next month. the moment you decide i am this version of myself, that becomes true for you because that is how powerful you are! you need to repeatedly go back to that version of yourself whenever you fall out of the state as your 3D will reflect your dominant state.

# 5 — reminders!

do not get discouraged if you wake up the next day and your desires haven’t manifested. what we are doing here is breaking the habit of being your old self. sometimes we are so used to thinking and behaving a certain way, identifying as a version of ourselves that doesn’t serve us any good, that it can be hard to truly settle in the new identity of ourselves overnight. stay determined and believe with conviction that you are all that you desire to be. because you are! the version of yourself that you want to manifest isn’t some different character outside of you, it’s still YOU!! and since you control your reality, whatever you say goes ;)

[imaginespazzi]

Part 4: The Art of Letting Go

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Only know you love her when (she lets you) go

(In which a still very sadistic writer make things a lot worse but only so they can get a little bit better)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt with very little comfort

Words: 7.9K

TW: Car Accidents, Panic Attacks, Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I know I'm very, very late with this and I love you all for being so patient. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter but it is what it is. Logistical details are probably a little off but I need things to work for the plot, so try and ignore that. Per usual I did edit (very loosely and I'll probably go back over it later), there are probably typos anyways. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't, and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading lovelies and let's get a W this weekend. <3

December 2023

A week or so after they get back from the Cayman Islands, Azzi feels like she’s been sleep-walking through life, everything around her hazy and dull. She religiously sticks to a routine of eat-study-practice-sleep. Except well, sleep isn’t really sleeping. It’s her brain conjuring images of blonde hair and blue eyes and Azzi forcing herself to wake-up from a nightmare that used to be her favourite dream. 

She doesn’t tell anyone what happened, lying to herself it’s because it would be embarrassing and not because it would mean having to face the truth. Still, it doesn’t mean that her teammates can’t piece together little bits. There must be something quite sinister about the air around her, because none of her normally nosy and eager-to-help sisters try to weasel any information out of Azzi. They act like they always have, only sharing worried looks behind her back when the façade of i’m doing fine slips momentarily when she thinks no one’s watching. 

And then that façade goes to hell over the span of a couple of hours. 

It starts with the inevitable breakup with Zoe. At first Azzi avoids it, making up excuses as to why she can’t see her girlfriend. Selfishly, there’s a part of her that wants to keep Zoe, keep a girl who would never leave, never make her feel anything less than (or more than) just content. But it’s not fair, Azzi knows that, and it’s why she practises her it’s not you, it’s me speech to perfection in front of the mirror. When she goes to message Zoe that she's coming over, the text chain causes a pinch of guilt in her heart at the contrast between her girlfriend’s hopeful tone versus her own nonchalant one. And Azzi thinks that Zoe will never really understand just how similar the two of them are, stuck at wanting someone who would always let them down. Only, Azzi will let Zoe free but when it comes to her herself, she’s pretty sure she’s destined to be trapped forever. 

It’s embarrassing to admit that Azzi remembers the apartment in Storrs that she’d visited barely a handful of times a lot more than she remembers the apartment she’s currently in, the one that belongs to her girlfriend. Zoe sits rigidly on the couch with the same reserved, guarded expression she’s had since she’d opened the door, clearly aware of what was about to happen. Her foot taps incessantly as the silence between them drags on.

“You deserve better,” Azzi says finally, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the floor. 

“No,” Zoe’s voice is cold, “don’t say shit like that. It’s a cop out. It’s the shit people say to make themselves feel better-”

“Zoe-”

“Don’t be a fucking coward Azzi. Look me in the eye and say it, say exactly what you’re here to.”

Azzi doesn’t want to do any of that. She wants to crumble to the ground and let it swallow her until she’s buried so far away from the mess she’s created. But she owes Zoe this. When she does look at Zoe, there’s this look in the other girl’s eyes that Azzi had never thought herself capable of evoking in anyone and she has to swallow away the bile that rises in her throat, disgusted by her own self. 

“I’m breaking up with you,” Azzi whispers. Her words linger in the air, like shrapnel after an explosion. Zoe flinches, a single tear trickling down her face. 

“There it is,” the Californian says quietly, the ghost of an ironic smile playing on her lips, “I knew it was coming but damn- there it is.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what-” Zoe cuts herself, “no actually don’t- don’t answer that. I think I know.”

Azzi draws in a deep breath, ready to confess, “I need to tell-”

“Please-”

“Z-”

“Please,” Zoe sobs, “please don’t tell me. I don’t wanna hear it okay? I don’t- I don’t want to hate you Azzi. It’s too much and I don’t- I just- I’m so tired of feeling so much for you when you don’t- when you feel so little for me.”

“That’s not true,” Azzi counters helplessly, her words ringing hollow to her own ears. 

“Fucking hell you just ended it Azzi, you don’t have to pretend anymore. And it’s okay because I get it. You can’t feel any more than what little you do for me because- because you’ve already given the rest of it away. And it’s not- it’s not like I didn’t know you know? I only ever met you because you were crying over her. You only let me into your life because you missed her. And now you have her,” Zoe says wistfully. 

It’s terrible the way everything else becomes white noise as Azzi’s ear latches on the last sentence, a sentence that couldn’t be any further away from the truth. She was prepared for the accusations, for Zoe to hurl every curse word in the book at her, but this, the unintended reminder that she was giving up on soft, sweet, gentle Zoe for something that she didn’t have, hurts far more than any words could. 

“This isn’t about-” 

Zoe’s quick to cut Azzi off, pushing herself off the couch they had been sharing, trying to put even more space in between them, “please do not insult my intelligence by finishing that sentence. I deserve that much at least.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are because I know- I know who you are Azzi and I know you’re a good person and that’s why- that’s why I don’t wanna know okay? Whatever you did- whatever happened- just let me- just let me have this. Let me remember you as someone good- someone great,” Zoe pleads.

“If that’s what you want Zo,” Azzi answers weakly, the guilty clawing at her heart. She doesn’t think she deserves to be remembered like that, doesn’t think she’s worthy of being thought of with fondness, not anymore. 

Zoe doesn’t make any acknowledgement of Azzi having spoken as she starts to pace, “I should have known. You know the day I met her this summer, I got it- the appeal- I got it immediately. She has this aura, this charm. She just- she just fucking glows you know? And she’s just- she’s this huge entity and so are you and I’m just,” she lets out a hollow laugh as she shrugs,  “I’m just a girl from Stockton, California.”

“And you’re amazing,” Azzi puts up a hand when Zoe tries to cut her off again, “you are. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for what you did for me last year. You could have walked away that day and maybe- maybe one day you’ll think you should have. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Zoe. You do deserve better. It’s not a cop out. It’s the truth.”

Since she was younger, Azzi’s always hated endings. This time is no different. The bitter truth is that she probably won’t miss her girlfriend, but she will miss the friend that had gotten her through one of the toughest years of her life. Slowly, Azzi picks herself off of the couch and walks over to a still Zoe, squeezing her left hand once before heading towards the door. 

“Azzi,” Zoe calls out, just as Azzi has one foot out the door, “I hope it works out for the two of you. You and Paige always did just seem inevitable.”

***

She blames the fact she’s currently stuck in the terrible LA traffic, with the word inevitable ringing in her ears, for the way her fingers continuously flicker over the green call button under Paige’s name. Zoe saying her name had been the first time in a week that Azzi had even let herself, in consciousness at least, think of the blonde properly. And now that it had been unleashed, whispers of Paige, Paige, Paige echo through every crevice of skull. The pain and anger that she’d been trying to shield herself from, come barraging into her heart as she’s held captive once again by thoughts of her best friend. 

It would be a lie to say that Azzi hadn’t been hoping for a call or a text to come through. She’d waited two days with bated breath for a friendly quip that would lead them back to their safe haven of just pretend. Instead it was as if they were back to being who they had been before summer of 2022 all over again. Back to being nothing. But this time Azzi had been adamant that if Paige was going to cut her off again, she wouldn’t fight it, not this time. Apparently that resolve was never meant to last and Azzi feels a little pathetic with how desperately she needs to hear Paige’s voice, how desperately she wants to try again. 

The traffic clears just as she presses call and maybe that should have been a sign. Azzi’s not a bad driver per say, but as her dad always said, no one’s a good driver when they’re distracted. The phone rings for too long and she should take that as her next sign and accept it as Paige not wanting to talk, but she lets it continue to ring anyway, as she turns onto a more secluded road. And then-

“Hello,” the voice is unfamiliar and Azzi doesn’t really know Paige’s teammates, beyond Caroline, that well but she’s pretty certain this one doesn’t belong to any of them. 

“Hi uh- who is this?” she manages to get out as her grip tightens on the steering wheel.

“Oh um- this is Rose, Paige’s friend” comes the reply, the word friend said with a sultry lilt and Azzi feels her skin prickle. Hang up. 

“Why are you answering Paige’s phone?” her tone is far more accusatory than she’d like it to be. 

“She’s in the bathroom but she told me to,” Rose answers defensively. 

Azzi hesitates, she doesn’t need to know more except, “does she know who called?”

Because surely if she did, if Paige knew it was Azzi on the other line, she wouldn’t let one of her likely random hookups answer the phone, surely Paige would know what it would do, how it would make her feel. 

“Uh yeah- I told her Azzi called and she seemed pretty sure she wanted me to pick up.”

Maybe Paige does know what it would do, does know how it would make Azzi feel, maybe that’s the whole fucking point. Through the phone she can hear quiet footsteps walking closer, towards Rose. When Paige is close enough that Azzi can make out the sound of her breathing, can almost picture the way her chest is heaving, that’s when the tears finally fall, blurring her vision. 

She doesn’t see the blinking headlights rushing towards her until it’s too late and then she’s swerving. The world around her erupts in motion and light and noise, everything spinning and spinning and spinning. For one moment, as she loses complete control of her car, Azzi thinks maybe this is it. And the most terrifying part of it, is that for a second, she’s not all that opposed to the idea of this being the end. It’s a singular image of her parents in her brain that has her regaining her senses and hitting the brakes as hard as she can. Her tires screech as her car barrels into a tree and her entire body jerks around in her car, her seatbelt leaving burn scars against her neck. Azzi feels her heartbeat going haywire, as everything comes to a halt. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Rose’s panicked voice echoes. 

“What?” and there’s Paige and even in this wreckage, Azzi’s heart stutters at the sound of her best friend. 

“I think she crashed-”

“WHAT?” there’s frantic shuffling until, “Azzi? Azzi? Hello? Are you there? Fuck. Azzi are you okay? Please say something. C’mon Az. I know you’re there. Can you hear me? Please be okay. Azzi? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Azzi?”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth, trying to answer to the call of her name, but nothing comes out. She feels hot and cold all over at the same and she swears there’s a hand curled around her neck because she can’t fucking breathe. 

“Azzi,” Paige says again desperately, “please say something.”

“P-Paige,” Azzi finally manages to stutter, her chest heaving as she gasps for air. There’s blood rushing to her ears and everything around her feels hazy. 

“Azzi,” and that one syllable is wrapped in so much emotion, “I’m here okay, are you okay?”

No, Azzi thinks, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay. 

“I c-can’t breathe. I think” she grasps at her neck, “I th-think I’m having a panic attack.”

Paige curses under her breath, “okay, okay alright listen to me breathe okay? And try to match it okay?”

“O-okay,” Azzi whispers, pressing her head to her steering wheel as she tries to mimic Paige’s exaggerated deep breaths on the other end of the line. 

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me Azzi, just keep breathing okay,” Paige’s voice is far calmer than she probably is in reality, “just keep breathing with me okay.”

Azzi closes her eyes as she feels her chest slowly start to loosen up and lets herself be immersed by Paige’s soothing words of comfort. And for a second, it almost feels as if her best friend is right there with her. For a second, Azzi imagines that they’re on a whole other planet, just them in their little world, like it always should have been, like she’d once been so sure it would be. It’s a beautiful dream that reality is quick to gatecrash. 

“Babe, is she okay?” Rose asks, and Azzi’s eyes fly open at the term of endearment. She’s not on a different planet. She’s alone. And Paige isn’t. 

“I’m fine,” Azzi breathes out and then more firmly, “I’m fine.”

“Thank God,” Paige lets out a sigh of relief before her tone turns sour “what the actual fuck Azzi?”

Azzi winces at the loudness, pretty sure she might have a concussion from the way her head had crashed back into her headrest as she’d crashed into the tree in front of her. 

“I’m fine,” she repeats assertedly, as everything around her slowly starts to make sense again. It’s not a lie really, at least not physically. There’s the potential concussion, and the litany of bruises she’s starting to feel all over her body but she’s pretty sure there’s nothing wrong internally. Well except for her stupid fucking heart but it wasn’t the accident that had fucked that organ up. 

“You just crashed your fucking car, no you’re not fucking fine,” Paige yells, voice thick with tears. 

“What the fuck do you care?” Azzi bites back, “sorry I interrupted your fucking night Paige. I swear it won’t happen again.”

She hangs up before Paige can say anything else, sitting deathly still for a second. And then she lets herself completely break apart. 

***

74 missed calls from Paige

did u go to the hospital 

pick up ur fucking phone 

dude

azzi

this is not the time for this stubborn bullshit 

PICK UP UR FUCKING PHONE 

AZZI 

just say ur ok at least

please 

called ur mom 

said u had a concussion and some bruising 

thats not too bad 

ur so fucking stupid 

it could be so much worse 

please pick up 

AZZI FUCKING FUDD PICK UP UR PHONE 

so u can call carol and not me ok 

thats just fucking perfect

dude i feel like an accident > stupid fights 

so maybe just pick up 

or call me back

u wanna play this stupid game fine 

ignore me for now

but i’mma be in dc for christmas

ur gonna have to talk to me 

i know where u live 

***

The box in Azzi’s arm feels freakishly heavy, like she’s holding the whole world inside of it. In a way, maybe she is. The walk up Paige’s dad’s driveway feels longer than it ever has and she’s fighting the urge to turn back with every step. As soon as she’d seen the vaguely threatening text message, Azzi had decided she would beat Paige to it. The night of the accident had put several things into perspective and Azzi was determined to finally grasp control of her own life. 

It hasn’t been that long since the Cayman Island and so it hasn’t been that long since Azzi’s seen Paige. But when the door opens and she’s face to face with her best friend, despite the dread and anxiety that’s drowning her heart, Azzi still feels that beat of it’s cold but you always make me feel warm flutter in her chest. Paige smiles and Azzi’s arms wobble, drawing the blonde’s attention to the box in her arms. 

“Still a couple of days till Christmas Az, a little early to give me my present,” Paige smirks lightly and Azzi feels a river of hot anger slide around her veins. After everything she’d put her through in the last couple of weeks, the fact that Paige could act so frivolous, as if they were still fine, makes Azzi see red. 

Her voice is icier than the sheet of frost on the ground when she replies, “it’s not a Christmas present.”

Paige’s eyebrows knit together questioningly, “then-”

“It’s all your stuff I had lying around,” Azzi cuts in, trying to keep her voice confident and stable. 

The smile disappears from Paige’s face as she studies Azzi's face, looking for some semblance of emotion beyond the blank stare. 

“What?”

“All the things you’ve left at my house over the years, a couple of t-shirts, a hat, a book and a couple other things, they’re in this box,” Azzi says pointedly. She tries to hand it over but Paige is quick to move away from it, staring at the offending object as if it’s a ticking time bomb. 

“What the actual fuck is going on Azzi?”

“I might have missed some things. Let me know if I have and I’ll mail them to you in the future,” Azzi recites clinically, keeping her demeanour stoic as possible “and of course I would like my things back as well. Not right now of course. You can mail them to me whenever it suits you.”

“Mail back your things? What? What the fuck are you going on about?” Paige asks, a bewildered expression taking on her face. She reaches out as if she wants to shake Azzi but seems to think better of it. 

Azzi doesn’t say anything, as she sidesteps Paige into the house, putting in the utmost effort to make sure no part of herself brushes up against the older girl, knowing the inevitable burst of electricity when they touch would be enough to break her resolve. She places the box of Paige’s stuff on the coffee table in the living room, before turning back to Paige. 

“I’m giving you your stuff back,” Azzi repeats, “I’m giving you what you want.”

“What I want? When did I ask for my stuff back?”

Azzi draws in a deep breath, fighting desperately against the screams of you don’t want this in her own head, “I’m giving you a clean break Paige. I’m letting you go.”

Saying those words feels a lot like free-falling. Her stomach lurches at the way Paige’s features scrunch up in pain and she’d never meant to do that, but Azzi’s so tired. She’s so tired of this push and pull, the way they seem to hurt each other every fucking time, the way things get so close to going right and then go wrong any way. The bitter truth of life, Azzi has forced herself to admit, is that it doesn’t matter how hard you fight, sometimes the darkness wins out anyway. 

“You think-,” Paige stutters, clutching at her chest, “you think this is what I want?”

“Well isn’t it?” 

“Of course n-”

“If I hadn’t called you that night would you have called me first Paige?  If I hadn’t gotten into that stupid accident, would you even have texted me ever again?”

Paige’s silence is an answer in itself . And although Azzi had known it, she can’t deny that there’s a part of her that had posed the question hoping against hope that Paige would have answered it with a resounding yes of course. She thinks maybe she should be used to the singe of disappointment that burns her skin by now but she’s never been immune to Paige’s fire. 

“That’s what I thought,” Azzi says quietly, “I’m tired of running after you Paige. I thought I was done after the Cayman Islands but then I- I don’t know- I don’t know why I called you that night when you- you clearly didn’t want that.”

“Azzi c’mon-”

“It’s my fault really. Because you've always been clear about it and I- for some reason- I just don’t listen. You were clear with it when you told me to go to UCLA and get out of your life. You were clear when you didn’t want me to come into your air BnB. You were clear when you told me to get out of the bathroom last summer. And when you left that night-,” Azzi pauses as Paige’s eyes widen, the words catching in her throat, “when you were gone that morning- every time you didn’t call- every time you didn’t text- you were always clear about it Paige and I- I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

“You’re being really fucking unfair right now,” Paige accuses, “you’re mad because I didn’t want to be your fucking side whore? I’m so sorry I had more self-respect than that Azzi.”

Azzi blinks rapidly, her face still completely neutral, “excuse me?”

“You wanna blame me for those first two things, fine. But you have a whole ass girlfriend and you wanted me to be what? Just a girl you can fuck occasionally because you feel like it? Who the fuck do you think I am? I deserve so much better than that.”

“I don’t-”

“You wanna know why I left that morning?” Paige asks icily, “I woke up and the first thing I saw is your girlfriend’s fucking i miss you text. All that shit you said to me when I kissed you in LA about not wanting to be one of my groupies or whatever but what did you want me to be Azzi?”

When they were young and naive, the largest fight they’d ever had was about whether or not one of them had cheated in a game of horse. The allegations of cheater from a 15 year old Paige had seemed massive back then, but they pale in front of the accusations of cheater from a 22 year old Paige. It’s not that Azzi thinks she’s some prime example of a good samaritan and she can deal with people thinking she’s not all that, but it’s different when it’s Paige, it’s different to know that Paige could ever think so low of her. 

“You really think I’d do that you? That I’d make you my sidepiece or whatever?”

“What else am I supposed to think about you fucking me while you have a girlfriend?” Paige asks exasperatedly and Azzi flinches at the repeated use of the profanity. 

“Had.”

“What?”

Azzi grips the hem of her shirt, trying to focus her eyes anywhere but Paige, “I had a girlfriend. Past tense.”

“You- you broke up with Zoe?” Paige’s expression morphs from anger to confusion before finally settling on realisation. 

“I never wanted you to be a side piece. You think I don’t know you deserve better than that?” Azzi rubs her temple, as she tries to keep herself steady on her feet, “I know seeing that text hurt you but it’s not like you didn’t know I had a girlfriend. But- but if you’d just waited for me to wake up, god if you’d just talked to me once instead of jumping to conclusions then-”

“Then what?” Paige breathes out and Azzi doesn’t miss the little spurt of hope that’s taken birth on the older girl's face. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Azzi shakes her head, “that’s also past tense now.”

The thing with Paige is that anger is her protective mechanism. When she gets a little close to losing control of her emotions, or feeling too much, it’s what she falls back on so it’s not surprising that her tone is harsh when she speaks again. 

“How the fuck was I supposed to guess you were gonna break up with your girlfriend Az c’mon,” Paige takes a step towards her, “I’m not a fucking mind reader.”

“I never asked you to read my mind. I just- all I’ve ever wanted- is for you to just have a little faith in me- in us,” Azzi’s voice breaks on the last word. 

“That’s not fair. I was really fucking  hurt Azzi-” Paige begins, her voice pleading.

“And then you tried to hurt me back on purpose,” Azzi spits out as the façade of neutrality completely slips off, “you knew it was me calling and you had that girl pick up any way knowing exactly how it would make me feel.”

“Azzi,” baby blue eyes sparkle with tears and Azzi has to force herself to look away, because no matter how much she’s convinced that this is what needs to happen, seeing Paige break, will drown Azzi and she’s barely floating as it is. 

“I don’t enjoy hurting you Paige,” Azzi says softly, “and I don’t think you enjoy hurting me but for the last couple of years, I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing and I- I can’t do it anymore.”

It’s not something she’d ever admitted out loud, or even to herself, but once upon a time Azzi used to think her and Paige would have one of those stories, one of those soft, sappy fairytale-esque stories that had no chance of an ending that wasn’t happily ever after. And she hopes that maybe in another universe, maybe they did have that. Maybe in a universe where she chose UConn and things never went wrong in the first place. Maybe in that universe, they’re happy. But in this universe, they seem to be destined for misery. And Azzi thinks the saddest tragedy of it all, is that it feels like she’s ending a story that never even really got the chance to start. 

“So that’s it then, you’re walking away- you’re just- you’re fucking giving up?” Paige says bitterly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest and Azzi feels a flicker of annoyance light up against her ribcage. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” she accuses, “Is that not what you do? You walk away every. single. time. because you can’t deal with things getting just a little too fucking hard. And what? I’m just supposed to wait until you come back? Or chase after you like a pathetic little puppy?”

Paige flinches at the hardness in Azzi’s tone, mouth opening and closing but nothing escaping. 

“I’m so fucking tired of always being the one calling, the one showing up, the one trying. I’m so fucking tired of fighting for us when it feels like you’re fighting against me,” Azzi pauses,trying to blink away the tears she’d tried so hard to keep locked behind her eyelids, “if you wanna call that me giving up then okay, but I don’t think you realize just how fucking hard I want to hold on.”

Azzi’s not sure if it’s the way her voice cracks, or the absolute misery behind every word she says, but Paige's hard and cold expression is gone so fast it gives her whiplash. And then her Paige, the girl with the warm eyes and soft heart is back, looking at Azzi in a way that makes her want to believe in them all over again. Arms outstretched, Paige takes a step forwards and there’s nothing more Azzi wants then melt into them. It takes everything in her to step away instead. For a moment there’s nothing but them staring at each other in silence, a moment where Azzi tries to memorise everything about Paige just in case this is the last time. And then-

“What if,” Paige begins softly, “what if I entered the draft?”

Azzi looks at her in confusion, “what does that have to do with anything?”

“The Sparks have the second pick, it’s where I’m projected to go,” Paige bites at her lips, peering at Azzi through her eyelashes. 

The Sparks. The Los Angeles Sparks. 

“Is that what you want?” Azzi asks quietly, trying to prevent her brain from already coming up with dreams of stupid picnic dates at the park during sunset. 

Paige hesitates. And it’s enough for those dreams to crumble, because Azzi knows Paige just a little too well, knows exactly what that little bit of hesitation means. 

“I haven’t decided yet but if- if there was a reason that I should-”

“There isn’t,” Azzi says firmly, “it’s not what you want.”

“I don’t even fucking know what I want,” Paige argues and that doesn’t make it any better. 

“Then figure it out,” Azzi yells, frustratedly rubbing her hands over her face, “I won’t deal with you fucking resenting me and running away again in a couple of years- hell in a couple of months- because you regret your fucking decision.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“Please just stop. It's done. I’ve made up my mind” Azzi begs, exhaustion flooding into her body, “just- just let this go please.”

Paige meets her eyes with a stubborn fire, “I don’t fucking want to.”

“Well tough luck because I do.”

“Azzi,” Paige pleads desperately, trying to block Azzi as she beelines for the door, but the younger girl is quick to push past her. 

“Goodbye Paige.”

***

December 2024 

azzi please just let me in 

ur parent are saying u dont wanna see me 

and i get it 

but i can fix this i swear 

i know u know im here

please fucking let me in 

i fucked up 

i know 

im so fucking sorry

but dude we can fix this

just 

can u just fucking let me in

i really wanna see u 

i really wanna talk 

can we just fucking talk 

please 

merry christmas az

u know what fuck u actually 

didnt mean that sorry 

i was just mad 

u make me really fucking mad 

christmas breaks almost over 

i have to go back soon and ik u do too

we should talk before that 

ur so fucking stubborn 

but so am i

im not giving up 

i won’t 

January 2024

hi 

i miss you

ur really fucking annoying

not texting me back

but its fine

i’ll just fucking spam 

i had an ok day today 

practice was kinda ass 

not me tho

i was great

as always 

bet i made more threes than you did 

bro im watching ur game

and

what the fuck kinda airball did u just throw up 

get in the gym az jfc 

oh that was a good pullup

not better than mine

but decent 

been a fucking month azzi 

just fucking call me back 

or text me idk 

i miss u 

sooooooooooo

hows ur day

good? good.

hows mine?

oh kinda shit 

lets see

we lost in front of all these uconn legends

to their fucking rival 

everyones saying uconn fucking sucks 

some people are saying i suck

they might not be completely wrong 

now would be a good time to reply az 

like maybe make me feel better

fuck u actually 

what the fuck am i doing 

idk if u even read these 

February 2024

idk maybe i should stop 

like maybe only fucking psychos do this 

but idk bro 

i feel like ur gonna text me back eventually 

well sc was a shit show 

i mean we knew it but holy shit 

i really wanna talk to you about it

it’d mainly just be me fucking yelling 

and u giggling 

fuck i miss ur laugh

i miss you

idk if u just ignore these

so idk if ur gonna even see this 

but 

i wanted to tell you first 

before u saw it from somewhere else 

im staying at uconn 

u were right

i didnt want to leave yet 

i want my 4 years

but 

just dont think it means i didnt mean what i said

that i dont wanna be in la with u

i do

its not about that

i just need to do whats best for me

and thats staying here 

fuck

i get what u meant now

u didnt pick ucla over me

fuck fuck fuck 

im sorry az

is this how u felt 

when i didn’t text u back 

because it’s actually fucking hell 

i miss you so fucking much dude

i’m so sorry 

i’m really fucking sorry azzi 

for all of it

please just call me back

March 2024

last pac-12 tournament mvp!!

dude i’m so proud of you

we also won 

idk if u heard 

it wasnt easy either 

everything just always fucking goes wrong 

fucking pisses me off 

but oh well 

u know i dont even like texting 

idk how many messages ive sent u 

its gotta be hundreds atp 

insane shit on my part 

tf is wrong with me 

did u see the bracket

see u in the final 4 azzi 

April 2024 

i fucking told u 

i told you id see u in the final four

fucking meant it

fuck 

gonna kick yalls ass

revenge szn

we’re built different in march

cleveland here we fucking go 

but also

cant avoid me anymore 

i cant fucking wait to see you az  

***

UConn 87     UCLA 84 

There’s six seconds left to go and UCLA has control of the ball. The game today had been completely different from the on down in the Cayman Islands. That one had featured a UCLA team that had dominated from start to finish versus a UConn team still reeling from multiple injuries. This time around, UCLA seemed to have lost some of their shine and UConn had been on a tear. She would never give Paige the satisfaction of knowing it but her stupid goading, her incessant smirking because UConn seemed poised to win handedly, had gotten in Azzi’s head for most of the game. The fourth quarter had seen UConn enter with a 11 point lead that had held study until the last two and a half minutes when something had finally clicked for Azzi. 

“Told you, you should have fucking come to UConn,” Paige had sneered while casually dribbling the ball and that had been enough to break Azzi out of whatever funk she’d been in. All of her anger and frustration at Paige seemed to culminate into that one moment as she’d swiped the ball straight from Paige’s hands, narrowly avoiding a foul. An easy steal-and-score layup was followed by two signature three pointers, created by her team’s defence, and suddenly the lead had been cut down to three. On the other side, Muhl had been called for an offensive foul and immediately Coach Close had called for a timeout to advance the ball. 

When both teams get back on the court, Azzi, with her competitive streak in full control of her emotions, relishes in the way Paige’s face is contorted up in frustration. But it isn’t just this game that has Azzi irritated. Paige had been relentless since both teams had landed in Cleveland in trying to corner Azzi. She’d known it was gonna happen since she’d read the text but still Azzi had hoped that maybe the blonde would just let it go, would understand just how much Azzi didn’t want to have to deal with this. Because seeing Paige hurts. All the missing and yearning of the past few months seemed to have blended into this ball of tight hot pain that had burst the minute Paige had smiled at Azzi. She knows Paige means well, and it’s taking everything in her to ignore the part of her that’s secretly enamoured by how hard the point guard is trying finally, but Azzi just can’t do it again. She can’t let Paige in again and then spend every other second scared that Paige will run away again. 

The whistle blows and Charisma gets ready to inbound the ball. The play call had been to just get it to Azzi but it’s clearly one that UConn had anticipated, because she finds herself swarmed with Paige and Muhl both trying to make sure she doesn’t get the ball. Instead, it’s Kiki who gets the ball and the countdown starts, as Azzi fights to get herself free, running off of screens, to get herself open on the three point line. It takes too much time and they don’t have any more timeouts left. Kiki throws it inside to Lauren who misses the layup but gets her own rebound and somehow the ball finally finds its way into Azzi’s hands. And with barely a second left to go, and Paige’s hand firmly in her face, Azzi throws up a prayer. The arena goes deathly silent as the ball hits the back and then circles every inch of the rim before spilling over the edge and falling straight into Edwards’ hands. 

The crowd erupts in deafening cheers as the UConn bench rushes to the court, jubilantly hugging each other with Paige in the middle. Azzi blinks rapidly, refusing to be caught shedding a single tear on camera. Her teammates look distraught and Azzi feels disappointment curling into every crevice of her skin she’d almost had it. In the grand scheme of things she knows that, that shot would have only guaranteed overtime and not a win but still, it wouldn’t have meant a loss. And she knows this one isn’t completely on her either but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel the burden of it on her shoulders any way. 

But despite it all, seeing Paige’s bright smile stretch all over her beaming face as she celebrates with her team, soothes the sting of the loss just a little bit. Azzi still remembers late night calls and Paige’s broken voice too well, her brain imprinted with the misery of a girl who had just wanted to play the sport she loved and couldn’t. And even if everything between them resembles the remnants of an earthquake, Azzi can’t help but be just a little bit happy for Paige. 

The handshake line is better this time around with no one being unnecessarily hostile. One team is too happy to care and when Muhl briefly hugs her, Azzi can’t help but be a little shocked by the affection. Her team is too despondent to be mad, and Angela briefly nods at Paige when shaking her hand, and gets a reassuring grin in return. Azzi has to force herself not to run away, if only for decorum’s sake, once she and Paige finally get to each other. Trying to keep herself steady, she reaches out her hand to counter Paige’s outstretched arms. The smile falls a little bit from Paige’s face as a more resigned expression takes its place. 

“Good game Bueckers,” Azzi manages to muster out. 

The last name stings but Paige does her best to not let it show, “good game Az.”

***

When there’s a knock on the door to her hotel room a little bit after 10pm, Azzi knows exactly who it is. The look that Charisma gives her as she goes to open it, suggests that she does too. 

“Oh thank fucking god, I thought maybe y’all left already,” and there it is, Paige voice echoing through her room and from where she’s perched on the edge of bed, her feet dangling over the side, Azzi catches a brief glimpse of the UConn point guard. 

“Had a little bit of a transportation issue. We’re not leaving til tomorrow morning,” Charisma explains, “what are you doing here Paige?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously at the doorway, peering over Charisma’s frame in the doorway to catch sight of Azzi, “can I talk to Azzi?”

“First you kick my ass in the final four, and now you wanna kick me out of my own room?” Charisma asks, voice light but there’s an edge of seriousness to it. 

“I-uh-” 

“Az,” Charisma turns to Azzi with a questioning look, and Azzi sighs at having all the attention on her, “you wanna talk to her?”

Say no. Say yes. Her head fights with itself. And for the last few months, Azzi’s done well with listening to the logical part of her brain, diligently sticking to letting go. But that had only been easy to do because Paige hadn’t actually been there. Now that she is, with bright hopeful eyes fixed on Azzi, well, this time the emotional side wins out. She nods her head in yes at Charisma and Paige seems to glow all over. 

“You’re lucky it’s me and not Angela or Kiki or any of the other girls,” Charisma warns, “but I swear to god Bueckers if I come back and there’s a single tear-”

“Then you have my permission to fucking murder me,” Paige vows, her face a paragon of sincerity. 

Charisma nods once, stepping aside to let Paige in. The Bruin’s point guard looks at Azzi once more for confirmation and then, satisfied by the small smile Azzi shoots at her, she leaves the room, letting the door shut behind her. And then it’s just Paige and Azzi and the myriad of unspoken thoughts that seem to always linger between them. 

“Hi,” Paige says softly. 

Azzi stares up at her with tired eyes, “shouldn’t you be celebrating or something?”

“Still one more game to go. Gotta lock in for that first.”

“Then go do that. What are you doing here?”

Paige flinches at the harsh tone and Azzi feels a wave of guilt come over her. She doesn’t mean to be so hostile but she’s scared that if she gives in just a little, all of her will go tumbling down. 

“Sunday is the most important game of my life,” Paige says quietly. 

“I know- I know it means a lot to you.”

“It does,” Paige nods, as she takes a step forward, hesitating for a second, before she drags a foot stool over, so she can sit right in front of Azzi, “will you stay for it?”

“That’s not-,” Azzi sucks in a deep breath, her senses muddle by having Paige so close to her again, “I thought I was clear about- about us.’

“You were but I thought I was clear with my texts,” Paige counters. 

“Paige please.”

“I just-,” Paige pauses, leaning forward and staring intently at Azzi, “I don’t know how the national championship is gonna go. I don’t know if we’re gonna win or lose but I just- I know that no matter what happens, I want you there. Because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. I just- I just want you there. With me. Always.”

Everything else floats away and for a moment, all Azzi knows is Paige, and the warmth that reverberates through her body at the earnestness in those words. If she could, she’d capture that feeling in a bottle and keep it forever. Because moments are fleeting. And when her brain catches up to her heart, and that voice in her head is back to echoing it won’t last, Azzi feels cold all over again. 

“You don’t believe me,” disappointment echoes in Paige’s voice; she’s always been a little too perceptive of Azzi’s emotions, “you think I don’t mean it?”

“I think you mean it now. I don’t think you’ll mean it forever,” Azzi shrugs. 

Paige is quiet, nerves on full display, as she cautiously reaches for Azzi’s hands with both of her own, an audible sigh of relief floating out of her lips when Azzi lets her. 

“I know I fucked up,” she begins quietly, thumb caressing Azzi’s palms, each trace sending jolts of electricy through the younger girl’s body, “like really fucked up and I get why you think that. I get why- why you’re so scared to believe me. And I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

A teardrop rolls down Paige’s cheek, falling onto their intertwined hands, and Azzi feels herself flinch, her own eyes beginning to glisten. 

“If I could go back in time, I’d change so many fucking things. I’d go back to the beginning- back to your room the night before you went to LA and- and I’d tell myself to shut the fuck up. I’d tell you that I supported you- that I understood that you weren’t choosing UCLA over me- and I’d- I’d tell you that it didn’t matter how many fucking miles away from me you were- we’d survive it. But I can’t- I can’t change the past. I can’t change that we fought. I can’t change that- that I was a fucking idiot for ignoring you for a year. I can’t change that I was a dumbass for leaving that morning.”

Tears are freely streaming from both of their eyes now as they grip each other’s hands tightly. There’s something cathartic about finally being able to cry, about finally being able to mourn the loss of what could have been together.And it feels a little bit like healing. 

Paige looks up at Azzi through watery eyelashes as she continues to speak, her voice wrecked with emotion, “and I’m not gonna make promises about how I’ll never do shit to hurt you again because god knows I can be really fucking stupid.”

They let out simultaneous giggles at that and Azzi can feel something in herself unravelling. 

“But what I can promise is that if you let me, every day- every fucking day that I live- I will try. To not hurt you. To make it up to you. To fix this. To fix us. And I can promise, that I will never ever fucking run away from you again. I know- I know it’s gonna be hard but I swear- I fucking swear- that I will stay right here and face it with you.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers helplessly. It’s everything she’s wanted to hear and it’s too much. The voices in her head are too loud again, screams of she’ll hurt you, she always does, let her go colliding with shouts of it’s Paige, it’s your Paige, hold on to her. 

“You said- you said you were tired of fighting alone but you never- you never have to do that again because- because I’m here now. Fuck- Azzi I’m here. And I know- I know there’s so much we have to talk about and so much we still have to fucking deal with. But we can do that- we can- we can deal with anything. Because it’s us. Paige and Azzi. We can do anything. Together.”

Paige presses her forehead to Azzi’s, pulling their interlocked hands to her chest. They’re breathing in sync and Azzi can feel the thrum of Paige’s heart beat against her fingertips. Azzi’s eyes close of their own accord, as Paige’s lips brush over hers, her next words coming out in a breathless whisper. 

“Believe in me- believe in us just one more time, please.”

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 5

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, slight slut-shaming, brief mention of death, minors do not interact

word count: 2.3k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

featuring the isa song “sometimes you lose your soulmates”

Present Day 

Though you didn’t exactly enjoy Mondays, it was at least the one day of the week when you got to wake up naturally instead of at the crack of dawn. Your first class isn't until noon, so when you wake up at 9:30 in the morning, you decide to get your day started early. 

You weren’t always the type of person to completely do themselves up just to go to class. Maybe in freshman year for the first few weeks, but you were a seasoned vet now. Most of the time, some leggings and a simple shirt or sweater sufficed. But after such a shitty weekend, you figure you could at least make yourself feel good by looking good. 

After half an hour of getting ready, you look yourself over in the bathroom mirror. You smile, fairly satisfied with your appearance. Despite the cold breezes of Saturday night, the forecast called for a rare warm day. As a result, you allowed yourself a floral sundress, decorated with a puffy knitted, button-up jacket on top of it in case the season’s true weather decided to show. A pair of simple white sneakers finished your outfit; not the most stylish, but practically, you still had to walk around campus. 

Your lips shine from the bit of lip gloss you’d applied. You’d only applied some light mascara on today (you figured that your Literature and Sexuality class did not warrant your bold, false eyelashes). You’d lightly painted your eyes with colours that complemented those of your sundress, blending them seamlessly onto your eyelids. As you did this, that one memory that was prodding you two days ago became clearer. 

“I have no idea how you do that so naturally, dude.” Ellie’d said, watching you in awe from the foot of your bed. 

Her ocean green eyes watched the meticulous strokes of your makeup brush applying eyeshadow to your lids. It was early on in your “friendship” and it was still a couple more weeks of her calling you “dude” before you became “babe” and “baby.” 

“It’s not that hard, honestly. Just takes some practice.” You’d said, trying to keep your hand steady as you grew nervous under Ellie’s watchful gaze. 

“Nah, it’s natural talent. You’re an artist.” She’d replied. 

You’d scoffed, saying, “Ellie, all I’m doing is my makeup. You’re the actual artist, remember?” 

“No,” She’d shaken her head. “I just draw. You’re the artist here.” She’d said decidedly, eyes full of admiration as she continued to stare. 

You’d blushed furiously then, and you would continuously do so when you’d replay that memory the months following after. 

But it was two years later and now, the memory instead has you staring at your reflection tight-lipped and frowning. 

Why is she still everywhere? 

It was roughly a fifteen to twenty-minute walk from your apartment to the university. You lived in an off-campus apartment complex that was in a decent location from both the school and a downtown area nearby. It was less convenient than living on campus like several of your friends still did, and this certainly wasn’t what you’d had in mind when you were planning out your social college experience. But after the freshman year events of Rafael’s death and Ellie’s abandonment, you were far more comfortable where you were. 

You liked walking anyway. You found solace in the strolls you took, accompanied only by your thoughts and headphones. 

About five minutes into your trek to campus, you pull out your phone to text your friend Tara. 

A couple of minutes later, you were just officially entering the campus when Tara texts you back. 

You continue walking as you frown down at your phone. Dina had spent most of the previous day at your place, cheering you up and taking your mind off Ellie. Your group chat with your other friends was blowing up and by the end of the night when Dina had left, you were overwhelmed by the amount of unread texts you had. The group chat remained unopened until right now. 

The chat consisted of your friends Tara, Sidney, Astrid, Rebecca, Kristen, and Mina. You’d met them all in freshman year. Tara was your assigned roommate and Astrid was Dina’s. They were all initially casual friends, ones that you saw on a usual basis and got along well with, but they weren’t necessarily very close. You were better friends with the gang from Jackson. But after you came back to campus for sophomore year, you detached yourself slightly from Dina and Jesse, knowing full well that Ellie had them first. They both tried to remain closer to you; but they remained inseparable from their childhood best friend, not fully knowing what events led to what “broke up” you two. It wasn’t the same and it was a much different dynamic with this other friend group, but the girls were there for you all the same. 

Reluctantly, you click on the group chat named “Wilson Crew ❤️‍🔥” (Wilson Valley had been the name of the freshman dorm building most of you had resided in the first year). Scrolling up to where you’d left off, you scan the messages your friends had left the previous day. Your eyes grow wider and wider the more you read. 

The previous day, Tara, who worked at a campus coffee shop called Ruston Coffee, was tasked to train a new girl. To her, your other friends’, and now your shock, the new girl Tara was training was Freshman Girl. The same Freshman Girl who stayed glued to Ellie’s side for most of Saturday night. The same Freshman Girl who drooled over Ellie’s every word and move. The same Freshman Girl that mistook your Ellie’s signature lavender-laced joints as lilac. The same Freshman Girl who wore Ellie’s old motorcycle jacket the entire night. 

It turned out Freshman Girl did have a name: Daniela. Your friends had sent messages with different levels of shock and horror. Kristen called her a whore, to which Sidney agreed, to which Astrid reprimanded and told them both to be nice. Mina sent memes as a response. Tara also texted that Daniela would be working with her again today. 

You look up. Ruston Coffee is just down the way. You don't have to go in. You can skip coffee for today and hide out in the library instead. 

“I’m not expecting you and Ellie to magically make up. I won’t try to get into the middle of it because I know that’s between you two. But you definitely need to figure out this out, babe. This doesn’t seem like something that should remain unresolved.” Dina’d said.

“But don’t also let it affect all the other parts of your life, okay?" She continued. "She shouldn’t be stopping you from hanging out with me and Jess more often or going out to parties we’re at or anything that involves Ellie in some way. Don’t let her stop you from enjoying your life.” 

And Ellie certainly shouldn’t stop you from getting coffee. If you want to get a coffee and relax before class, Ellie should not be getting in the way of that. 

You take a deep breath and march towards the coffee shop, fingers gripping tightly onto the straps of your backpack and feet stomping in rhythm to good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo blasting loudly through your headphones. 

A bell above the door tinkles as you enter Ruston Coffee. The shop was a little busy, most seats taken up by other students sitting with their laptops or biding time before class. There's a line of people by the register and you begin approaching it until you hear your name being called. 

Your friend Tara waves you over by the counter where orders are usually dropped off. In one of her hands is a straw and your ready-made mocha frappe. 

“You’re the literal best, Tara.” You sigh, pulling your headphones off and walking up to her. 

She hands you your coffee order. 

“No problem.” She says, smiling. “You know that I don’t mind.”

“Thank you for indulging in my caffeine addiction,” You say, whipping out your phone and sending her $6. 

Tara frowns and says, “You better not have given me a $3 tip this time.” 

You sip from your straw. 

“Dude!” Tara reprimands, laughing. 

“$2 tip!” You say, defensively. 

“Just for a $4 coffee.” She chides, shaking her head. 

You shrug. 

“So uh,” Tara begins, her voice lowered slightly. “Did you see what I said in the group chat yesterday? Cause you weren’t responding.” 

You gulp. 

“Uhh. Yeah, I did, just now. Sorry, Dina was at my place yesterday, so I was busy—” 

“Nah nah, it’s cool, man. But like. You saw what I said about that girl, right?” 

“Is she here?” You ask, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“Not yet. But—” Tara checks her watch. “—she’s supposed to be here in less than five minutes or so.” 

Fuck. 

“Oh, okay.” You gulp, your heart rate increasing. 

“Are you okay, dude?” Tara asks. 

“No, yeah, I’m fine.” You lie. “How did training her yesterday go?” 

Tara crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. 

“Literally the worst. She kept on looking at her phone instead of listening, she left one AirPod in her ear the whole time, she kept asking when we were gonna be done. And now I have to go through it all again once she gets here.” 

You give Tara a sympathetic look. 

“I hate that,” You say, sucking on your teeth. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, not hire her?” 

“We’re short-staffed as fuck, so we don’t have much of a choice.” Tara sigh. 

One of Tara’s co-workers comes up behind her and attempts to elbow her ribs which she dodges easily. 

“Get back to work, Maclay.” He says, putting down two cups of coffee next to her before heading back towards the register. 

“Fuck off, Khanh!” She replies, shooting a middle finger to his back. 

“Should I let you get back to work?” You ask. 

“Nah,” Tara reassures. “I wanna shit talk this Daniela girl first before I have to deal with her this morning.” 

“Do you know how often she’s gonna be working with you?” You inquire. 

“I’m not sure yet, but if Bonnie thinks she’s gonna stick me with a lazy new girl this early in the year—” 

You hear the bell above the door tinkle as someone enters the coffee shop. Both you and Tara look instinctively at the new arrival. Tara groans silently and your throat goes dry. 

Freshman Girl Daniela walks in. Wearing Ellie’s jacket once again. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Crap, I gotta go now, I guess.” Tara whines begrudgingly. 

“Y-yeah…” You say, unable to take your eyes off of that same jacket that used to often adorn your shoulders back in your freshman year. You hate that it looked good on Daniela. 

“I’ll see you later, dude.” Tara says, wrenching her elbows off the counter and walking towards the register. 

“Good luck.” You reply. 

You aren't exactly subtle with your stare, but thankfully Daniela doesn't seem to notice. It's a little different seeing her now in the daytime. She was very pretty, you have to admit to yourself. She has a short, pixie cut that complements her sharp bone structure. She's wearing a bright yellow tank top below Ellie’s jacket that clings to her lean figure, making her stand out slightly. The light makeup she has on looks so simple and natural. 

Daniela wasn’t Ellie’s first conquest since you ended things with her. She didn’t waste much time dating around after you all came back for your sophomore year. You’d avoided her as much as possible so you wouldn't have to come face-to-face with the girls she’d get involved with. You still heard about them, of course, and you were sure there were even more than the ones you’d known about. 

But Daniela was the first you were forced to encounter. You weren’t prepared to be thrust right into Ellie’s love life once more. But here you are, staring at the most recent fling of the girl who you were once so desperately in love with. 

As Daniela lazily makes her way through the shop towards the back, you eventually tear your eyes off her and head straight for the exit. 

♫ Maybe she’ll come through / If he waits some more 

But she doesn’t / No, she doesn’t ♫ 

You're leaning against one of the trees in the quad, backpack laid next to you and headphones back on your ears. Your next class is in the building right behind you, but you still have a while until it started. 

♫ It’s not like the movies / Like you dream it’ll be 

Sometimes you lose your soulmates / And sometimes they leave ♫

Your journal and pen are laid out on your lap but abandoned as your fingers pick at the grass around you. Your mostly empty coffee cup sits next to you, condensation dripping into the soil. Your eyes are completely glazed over, watching the clouds in the sky. 

♫ She’s not a girl you forget / She’ll run through your head 

With all of the moments / You loved but now dread 

To remember / Burning like—♫ 

Your hands and voice react quicker than your mind does. Your sudden movements cause your headphones to fall onto your neck. After a second, you realize that you had shrieked and that your hands had flown up to your face to catch something. As you bring the object down to look at it, you realize it was a football. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” 

You look up to see a tall girl in a dark t-shirt and grey sweatpants jogging towards you, a dirty blonde braid bouncing behind her. 

“Abby?”

author's notes:

sorry for the delay in uploading this! i'm back from my brief vacation, and after i settled in after getting home, i almost immediately plopped down in front of my laptop to finalize this ldksfjsdlkds

not very chockful of ellie in this chapter, i know, i'm sorry! y'all got plenty last chapter! but don't worry, more will be coming up soon. i just enjoy keeping y'all in suspense.

i just wanna mention that most (if not all) of the names that i use in this fic are picked out people in the games themselves. also tara's last name is maclay as an homage to my lesbian queen tara maclay from buffy the vampire slayer. she's not the same character obvi, but i just enjoy putting in the reference :)

freshman girl aka daniela may have been named after and based on some whore girl that my ex left me for and that i'm still bitter about it oops

i hope y'all enjoyed the surprise guest appearance at the end of this chapter! she will be integrated further into the story from this point on, so stayed tuned :)

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @chrissyfishywissy, @yevheniiaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnoviecita, @oatmilkchaii, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky

[vodika-vibes]

i know i just requested something (so sorry abt this😭😭) but i just thought of this!!

a modern AU meet cute with fives!! like a romantic little thing with a gn reader please!! maybe in a cafe or restaurant bc i love food lol

Coffee Cake

Summary: You are a busy person, always running hither and thither, running errands for your boss, your coworkers, and your family. And, every morning, you stop at the same cafe for coffee and a piece of coffee cake and hope that the cute barista will finally notice you.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1440

Prompts: Modern AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So this is less meet cute and more they already had their meet cute and are now friends who want more. I hope you don't mind! I also wrote this in under an hour, without any coffee because I have bloodwork this morning, so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes. And I'm, like, 90% sure that I kept this GN, but if I didn't just let me know!

The cafe smells like fresh coffee and fresh pastries. It’s probably the most comforting scent that you know, comforting enough that the moment you step through the doors, stress just falls off your shoulders. 

Stress is a regular part of your life.

Well, okay.

Stress is a regular part of everyone’s lives, but you seem to have twice as much stress compared to everyone you’ve ever spoken to.

“Babe,” They say, “Babe, you’re doing too much. You need to slow down.” And then they dump three weeks' worth of needs on you, and your stress levels just skyrocket.

At this time of day, though, so early that the birds are still waking up and the sun is just barely creeping over the horizon, there are not many people in the cafe. So you’re able to move over to your favorite table and drop all of your stuff on the table.

Technically, your work day doesn’t start for another hour, but you have some emails you need to send, and a speech you need to read over and correct for your friend. Not to mention, Mom needs you to make reservations for her, Dad, and your older sister and brother-in-law at a 5-star resort on the other side of the country.

And then your workday will properly start.

Yay.

You think it’s kind of telling that you’re not invited to the resort for the vacation that you’re scheduling for your family, but you’re not going to call them out on it.

This time.

You jump when someone raps their knuckles on your table, and then turn your head to look at the man standing just to your left.

Tall and broad, with curly hair, a neatly trimmed goatee, and a 5 tattooed on his temple, Fives is probably the biggest reason that you regularly visit this cafe rather than one of the dozens of other cafes in the city.

A small smile crosses your face when you see him standing there, “Good morning, Fives,”

“Morning yourself, early bird,” He teases as he reaches out a tugs on one of your curls, “The coffee cake isn’t done yet, but I do have your coffee.” He sets the paper cup on the table next to your laptop, “Peppermint cream and two sugars, just how you like it.”

You sigh, “You’re an angel among men, Fives.”

He smirks at you, “Oh, I know.”

You laugh quietly and sink into a chair, resting your chin on your knuckles as you look up at him, “Busy morning?”

“Never,” Fives replies as he leans his hip against the table, “You know we have some regulars, but the majority of our clientele is made up of my brothers.”

“Well, you do have a lot of them,” You joke as you pick up the cup and take a sip of the cafe and then pull it back to look at it in surprise, “Did you put—?”

“Whipped cream? Yes, I did. With some chocolate shavings.” Fives replies smugly.

You set the cup back on the table and look up at him, “Marry me?”

“You only want me for my coffee.” He counters with a grin, “I wanted to try something new, if you like it enough I’m going to add it to the menu.”

“Ah, and here I thought you just wanted to spoil me, not that I was playing taste-tester.”

“It can be both,” He says with a shrug, “Anyway, what mess are you cleaning up this morning?”

“Mm…I have some emails I need to send for work. My friend in the governor's office needs me to read over a speech she prepared for the Governer. Oh, and my parents and sister need me to book them a stay in a 5-star resort when they go on vacation.”

“You’re going on vacation?”

“Well, I wasn’t invited.”

“Wait, you weren’t invited but you still have to do all of the work?”

“Yup.”

“Don’t do it.”

“If I don’t then it won’t get done,” You reply.

“Then it doesn’t get done, it’s not your problem.”

You sigh softly, “Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t have time for a vacation anyway.”

Fives stares at you for a moment and then drops into the seat next to you. He smells like coffee and pastries, and there’s a smudge of powdered sugar on his cheek, and it’s all very distracting. 

“You,” Fives says as he takes your laptop and shoves it back into your bag, “do too much. When was the last time you took a vacation?”

“Uh…I dunno, five years ago, maybe? My sister’s wedding.”

“And was that an actual vacation, or did she make you play wedding planner?” Fives asks.

“...I’m feeling very attacked right now.”

“Good, you should.” He takes your hands in his so you aren’t able to grab your laptop, “You deserve better.”

“They’re my family and my friends,”

“Them being family only excuses so much,” Fives counters, “And you need better friends.”

“It’s not that easy, Fives. Can I have my laptop back?”

“No. This is rest time.”

You sigh, “Fives—”

“The bags under your eyes are so deep that they can probably carry all of my clothes with room to spare,”

You pull back and shoot him an offended look, “That’s mean,”

“I’m worried about you.” He releases one of your hands so he’s able to pull your chair closer, and you can feel his warmth radiating off him, “There’s more to life than…this.” He gestures to the pile of work stuff.

“I know that! I do. I’m just…busy, that’s all.”

Fives watches you for a moment, and then he smiles, “Do you dance?”

“I…what?”

“Dance? Do you dance?”

“Not well,” You reply slowly, “I’m not very coordinated.”

“Well, I’m going clubbing tonight with my brothers,” Fives says, “Come with me.”

“To the club?”

“Yeah.”

“And do what? Sit there and watch other people dance and drink?” You ask.

“Don’t be obtuse,” He rolls his eyes, “You’ll dance with me. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

You stare at him, bemused, “You want to dance with me?”

“I want a lot of things. But I’ll settle for dancing for now.” He grins at you and continues before you’re able to ask him about his comment, “Anyway, are you in? It’ll be fun~”

You sigh softly, “Yeah, okay. I’ll go dancing with you tonight.”

The broad grin that crosses his face surprises you, though you’re not sure why you’re so surprised. Fives always gets excited when you say that you’re trying something new.

“That’s great! The dress code is whatever you can move in, I’m sure you’ll look amazing,” Fives says, his voice very excited, “But, I have to get back to work. I’ll bring you your coffee cake as soon as it’s done.”

You smile at him fondly, “Fives,”

He pauses before he stands, “Yeah?”

“You have sugar on your cheek,” He blinks at you and wipes his cheek, only to miss the sugar, and you laugh softly, “Hold on, I got it.” You reach out and lightly brush the sugar off of his cheek and onto the floor, “There. Perfect,”

You start to pull your hand back only for him to grab your wrist and, in one smooth motion, he pulls you towards him and crashes his lips against yours. 

You release a surprised noise, and then you melt into him, your free hand coming up to rest against his chest.

In your experience, first kisses are supposed to be soft and gentle. But this one isn’t. It’s deep and probing as if Fives is trying to determine what makes you tick with every press of his lips against yours.

You could lose yourself in him if you had the chance, so it’s probably a good thing that Hevy yells at Fives from behind the counter, “Oi!” He shouts as he flings a ball of paper at his younger brother, “Stop making out with your girl and get back behind the counter.”

Fives flips his brother off without looking away from you, and there’s a small smile on his face as his hand lingers against your cheek. He leans in as if he’s going to kiss you again, only for his twin to jerk him out of the seat.

“I’m happy for you, Fives. But you need to get back to work. Now.” Echo hisses as he drags Fives away from the table.

You lightly press your fingers against your lips, they’re tingling a little bit. And, for the first time in your life, you’re looking forward to going out tonight. 

And, judging by the goofy grin on Fives’ face, tonight can’t happen fast enough.

[otomehonyaku]

Diabolik Lovers Lost Eden Drama CD Translation ☽ Vol. 4 Mukami Saga ☽ Track 3・About 'Him'

Original title of this track: あの方 (1) のこと Voiced by Sakurai Takahiro (Ruki), Suzuki Tatsuhisa (Yuma), Kishio Daisuke (Azusa), Kimura Ryōhei (Kou) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (as always, BIG thank you to @karleksmumskladdkaka!)

TRACK 1・TRACK 2・TRACK 3・TRACK 4・TRACK 5・AFTER STORY

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This is the fourth volume of the Lost Eden drama CDs! I'll make separate posts for each track and update the links above as I go. This is the third track on the CD, containing a good dose of spice ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) I keep forgetting how slowly Azusa talks so by the time I finally got around to translating this track, I actually finished it in less than an hour... Happy listening and reading along!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

00:00 Kou: Ah… It’s like I’m being brought back to life! I know they always say bath time is when all your everyday troubles just fall from your shoulders (2), but it actually is. Ah? Kitten, why are you sitting all the way in the corner like that? Are you embarrassed? You looked pretty confident before you changed into that towel, though. Hehe. How cute.

[You ask him where you are.]

Kou: Hm? Oh, right. Lord Karl Heinz built this place for us when he took us to Eden. To remind us of our former humanity even after we became vampires, in a way. He was kind. He really was, but he was pretty much the vampire to rule all vampires, you know? Sometimes, he could be cold as ice, and quite strict, too. I don’t know what it’s like to have parents, but if I had a father, I wonder if he would be like Him.

[You desperately try to carry on the conversation.]

Kou: Ah, you don’t have to try so hard to follow that up! I forgive you. However... could you comfort me? The scent of your blood is so strong. I wonder if it’s because of the bath. It’s been difficult to resist since we got in… Let me drink. You’re fine with it, right? Well, I would dig in even without your permission, though—

[Kou bites you.]

Kou: Mm… Ah… Delicious. Tasting you fresh out of the bath is heaven already, but the taste of your blood while we’re in the bath is the best, too. Give me more… 

[Kou bites you again… until Yuma and Azusa come in.]

02:42 Yuma: Ah! You predictable asshole.

Kou: Ah? Oh, Yuma. You’re late.

Azusa: Eve… Your face is… very red.

Kou: And you too, Azusa!

[Kou turns to look at you.]

Kou: Ah, it really is! You’re so red you’re practically glowing!

[You immediately lose consciousness.]

Kou: Huh? Kitten? Hold on!

Yuma: Ah, she’s passed out.

Kou: Ah—I might’ve gotten a little carried away.

Yuma: ‘A little,’ you say? 

[Yuma punches Kou.]

Kou: Ow—it’s not worth punching me for, though!

Yuma: What? Don’t exaggerate. I barely poked you.

Azusa: Eve? Are you… alright?

Kou (in the background): Yeah, well, try thinking about the difference in strength between us. 

Azusa: Eve…? Pull yourself together…

Kou (in the background): You may think you only poked me, but I’m your weak little brother Kou and you’re the big, beefy guy. That makes it practically the same as punching me!

Azusa (to you): Ah, you’re too far gone…

Yuma (in the background): What, you’re admittin’ to being a weakling? You are by far the most headstrong out of all of us, though.

Azusa: It can’t be… helped…

[Azusa lifts you out of the bath.]

Kou (in the background): That’s harsh! C’mon, Yuma. How can I enjoy myself when you’re being so mean to me? (3) 

Yuma (in the background): Huh? The fuck’re you sayin’? That’s got nothin’ to do with it.

Kou (in the background): That has everything to do with it!

Azusa (to you): Let’s go somewhere more… quiet, and cool… Alright?

Kou: How do you not understand? It’s my damn right to—huh? What? Kitten?

Yuma: She’s gone! How?!

Azusa: Hehehe… Eve, I caught you…

[The scene shifts to ‘your’ room. You wake up in your bed with Azusa beside you.]

04:37 Azusa: Are you… awake?

[You shoot upright.]

Azusa: You might be surprised… right? Eve… this is your room. You lost consciousness in the bath, so… I brought you here.

[You look down to your body in a fit of panic.]

Azusa: It’s okay… I’ve already dressed you… and dried your hair. I wouldn’t want you to… catch a cold, Eve…

[You get embarrassed.]

Azusa: Oh… your face is red. Are you still… not feeling well?

[You shake your head.]

Azusa: That’s a relief… Would you like something… to drink? You have to stay hydrated…

[Azusa pours you a glass of water.]

Azusa: I have plenty of experience with… passing out after staying in the bath too long, as well… Whenever that happened, Ruki always told me… to drink a lot of water, so…

[You ask him about it.]

06:22 Azusa: Well… I used to enjoy hurting myself, but… When you go into the bath with fresh wounds… it stings, right? It heightens the pain… So, that’s why I would… soak in the bath for too long… But Lord Karl Heinz would get upset with me… so I stopped doing it. Oh… You have to drink some water, though…! I’ll help you… so please stay down… okay?

[You nod.]

Azusa: Can you… lift your head, just a little?

[You do as he says.]

Azusa: Alright… here, drink…

[Azusa lifts the cup to your lips and you drink, but some of the water spills.]

Azusa: Oh…! You spilled a little… I’ll wipe it off…

[Azusa wipes off the water and pats you dry.]

Azusa: It’s okay… Your clothes aren’t that wet… Would you like some more…? You don’t have to hold back… I will do whatever you wish…

[You thank him and tell him you’re okay.]

Azusa: Oh… I see. Ah, I’m sorry… I wanted to take care of you a little longer, so… It’s no good—I should’ve told you… just like Kou did… You look troubled… I’m sorry. It’s my fault…

[Azusa comes closer to you.]

09:41 Azusa: I don’t want to… trouble you… If I did… I would…

[Azusa shakes off his indecisiveness and lifts himself on top of you.]

Azusa: I should just be honest and tell you… that I would like your blood… I’ve only touched you a little, but… my desire is so strong… I can’t hold myself back… I wonder if it’s because… Kou drank from you earlier…

[Azusa leans in.]

Azusa: I’ll only take a little, so… It’s okay… right?

[Azusa licks your neck and bites down.]

11:12 Azusa: Eve…

[After a little while, there’s a knock on the door. Ruki comes in, which startles Azusa.]

Azusa: Oh…!

Ruki: Dinner’s ready.

Azusa: Ruki…?

Ruki: Come downstairs before it gets cold. Don’t play around with her too much.

[Ruki closes the door.]

Azusa: I’m not playing around with you, though…

[Azusa lifts himself off of you.]

Azusa: I’m sorry, Eve…

[Azusa helps you up.]

Azusa: Let’s go… You must be hungry… right?

[The two of you go to the dining room.]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

あの方（かた）: Lit. ‘that person.’ The Mukamis always use this (relatively neutral) term to refer to Karl Heinz—even though they rarely call him by his name, everybody knows the only person they could be referring to is Karl Heinz. It won’t really stand out in the title of this post but I always translate this term as ‘He/Him’ with a capital H, mostly because you could argue that the Mukami brothers revere Karl Heinz almost as though he were a deity.

He actually said お風呂（ふろ）は命（いのち）の洗濯（せんたく）which literally translates to ‘a bath is like washing your life’ but that sounded a little odd, and 命（いのち）の洗濯（せんたく）also just means to kick back and ‘cast off the drudgery of everyday life and doing as one pleases’ according to Jisho.org (my favourite online Japanese dictionary, by the way).

Couldn’t figure out for the life of me what Kou was yelling in the background at this point (half the sentence was muffled because of the splashing sounds) but judging from the context, I think he said something along these lines…

[vamossainz55]

carlos sainz x reader and “aw, did you miss me?”

maybe, just maybe - carlos sainz jr

summary: over the phone confessions after a night out. a/n: a request from my drabble party i opened ages ago (sorry for it being so late). i hope you enjoy anon and thank you for requesting! (+ kind of hate it so don't be surprised if it randomly dissapears one day lmao)

Carlos wakes up to the beat of Sexy Bitch ripping him out of his dreams. He lets out a low grumble as he awakens, shifting from one side of the bed to the other before reaching out to his side table. 

He feels around the table, groaning into the pillow as he struggles to get ahold of the phone. The music only gets louder, and he wonders why on earth had he let you persuade you in picking your own ringtone.

Soon enough his fingers graze over the vibrating phone, prompting him to turn over to his back. He takes this moment to look at the time, squinting when the light shines a bit too bright. 

He blinks to adjust his vision, looking over the glaring numbers on his phone. The numbers are mocking him. 5:55. He knows he needs to be up in less than three hours but he slides the green button to the right, pressing his phone to his ear. 

He’s greeted to the sound of a soft breath, followed by a Oh. 

“You called?” Carlos asks, rubbing his eyes quietly as he tries to wake himself up still. He can hear some stumbling from the line, soft music playing in the background of the call. 

“I thought you were asleep,” There’s a soft slur to your words as you speak and Carlos can’t help but smile in amusement. 

“Are you drunk y/n?” The beat of silence is enough of an answer, but if he had any doubts about it you confirm them anyways. 

“Maybe…” Carlos shakes his head, chuckling softly. “I’m sorry for calling- I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“Of course I picked up.” Carlos answers before thinking, and he could blame it on his sleepy state for wearing his heart on his sleeve like that, but it’s not like you both don’t know. You had danced between the thin line of the will they / don’t they debacle for months now.

It had started as something casual- an easy way to release stress whenever any of the two of you needed it, but over the last few weeks you both knew the dynamic had started to shift. Carlos tried to bring it up- but you had always been the first to shut it down. 

That is exactly why he’s surprised that he’s on the receiving end of a call when you’re both thousands of kilometers away from each other. 

“Why’d you call? Are you safe?” He asks, sitting against the bed frame as he puts his phone on speaker.

“Yeah. I got home from the club, a guy tried flirting with me.” Carlos’ jaw clenches a little at the mention of another guy, but he can’t say anything, not when you two aren’t even a thing, far from exclusive. 

He is surprised by what you say next though. 

“I realised I didn’t want him.” 

It’s Carlos’ turn this time, simply answering with an “Oh?” before his pride rolls in. “And who did you want then?” 

“You know who.” He feels a stir in his stomach, it’s not the first time you both had to make things work when apart. He considers it. For a second. Before remembering the time and his early training session. 

“It’s six in the morning y/n, I’m not sure if I can do that now.” 

He’s only met with more silence, and he wonders whether this is the end of it and you would just apologize and wish him goodnight. Instead though, the next thing he hears from you isn’t a farewell. 

“I- it’s not that actually.” He almost feels embarrassed when you say that, feeling a heat forming in his cheeks but you continue before he can apologize. 

“I uhm- wanted to hear your voice.” There’s a hint of shyness in your tone that has a small smile forming on Carlos’ lips. It’s enough to have him picture you with flushed cheeks, hands covering your face. His silence prompts you to continue. “It’s just- we haven’t seen each other in weeks now and-“ and Carlos just has to interrupt. 

“Aw. Are you saying you miss me?” He waits for your answer, nodding his head when he receives it. 

“Maybe…” He smiles, allows himself to savor the satisfaction he gets from hearing you admit it. 

“How about I call you tomorrow?” He offers, pulling the sheets as he lays back down. He stares at the ceiling for a second, taking a deep breath. 

“Could you?” Carlos nods even if you can’t see him, murmuring a mhm. He makes sure you promise to have water next to you and a paracetamol for when you wake up.

Once you grab everything and you’re in bed as well you both say goodnight to each other, and his thumb hovers over the red end button. 

Before he hangs up, he makes sure to get the last word in though.  

“By the way, I miss you too.” 

[loserboyfriendrjl]

James woke up to the empty bed. eyes still closed, He touched around the nightstand to find his glasses (He ought to get checked again, he felt like his current prescription was off ever so slightly) and, putting them in his nose, sat up and made his way towards the door.

Lily was standing in the bathroom, only in a pair of underwear. (The underwear that had been discarded on the floor of James’ apartment mere hours before, he thought with a grin.) She mussed her hair, and reached out to do the clasp of her bra.

“You’re out early,” He said, rubbing a hand over his 5 o’clock shadow.

“I have work,” She smiled, apologetically, as she threw her hair up and put it into a messy ponytail. “Can you help me with my bra, please? My nails won’t allow me to do it.”

He stepped behind her, thumbing at the clasp. After he heard it slip, his touch lingered on her back, letting it fall to her bared hip, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his fingers’ wake.

Then Lily’s back was pressed against the sink and their mouths were pressed together. James’ fingers tangled into her hair, sliding his tongue inside Lily’s mouth, which earned him a moan from her. His hand rested on her hip, rubbing circles into her skin, and her fingers were wrapped around his bicep.

He didn’t exactly know how they ended up back in his bedroom, his palm cupping her jaw, their bodies moving together.

And just like that, it was over; she pressed a light kiss to his cheek, picking up her black, sleeveless top and jeans off the floor. “I had fun. We should do this again sometime.”

James hummed in approval, putting his arm under his head as he lied in bed again. “We should. Whenever you want.”

Lily pulled on her top. “I’m not free Thursday, I have a team building event, and I’m not free Friday, I’m going out with my friends, so… Saturday?” She asked coyly, fastening her belt.

“Sounds good. I had practice on Friday either way. Let me drive you?” He asked, sitting up and peeling his own pair of jeans off the floor.

“I’ll Uber,” She answered, already making her way towards the door.

“It’s the least I could do.”

“After paying for dinner and…” She glanced around, biting her lip, “well.” She ended, grinning slyly.

“Come on,” He said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “It’ll take much less than waiting for a car.”

[messycunt]

So like…Vil’s one of the most popular show cows, right? And thus the farm would do anything to keep him happy. So, what if he was assigned a handler who could not give less a shit about his status. They call him “your highness” sarcastically and just scoff when he makes an unreasonable request.

So, he asks the farm owner for a bed warmer during his heat (is that what it’s called? I forgot I’m sorry) and he wants his handler. The handler is offered a lot of money for the job, so much it’d be stupid to turn it down.

Vil always gets what he wants, he’s the farm’s star after all!

hcs + a blurb, not proof read

cw: afab reader, male lactation, hybrids(hucows), dubcon(Vil is an entitled lil prick ok i made him extra bitchy)

With a silky blond hide, gorgeous ivory horns, and a face card that never declines, Vil is the shit and he knows it. Everyone else does too if he has anything to say about it. Well everyone but you.

The fact that his presents didn’t leave you completely star struck upon your first meeting irked him more than he’d like to admit.

If not for his beauty he usually receives positive recognition for how much work he puts into maintaining it but you couldn’t care less. If anything you see him as boujee and stuck up, not admirable and hard working.

You irritate him beyond belief but he truly is unreasonable for the most part.

The look he gives you when you roll your eyes at his request to have you personally prepare his meals instead of eating the same as everyone else or to tailor the outfits prepared for him by Crewel yourself rather than just sending them back could kill a man. Still, you remain unphased. 

He wakes up at 5:30 sharp every morning and has a skin care routine with more steps than any dance routine he’d ever be expected to pull off. It's all so.. exhausting. 

He has won so many blue ribbons that he’s lost count you know? And his father was an international show bull too? The fairs he’s featured in wouldn't be half as lucrative without his name attached -or so he says- so the least you could do is put in some effort to help him stay on track with his personalized diet.

At first you were surprised to learn that Vil does any physical work at all let alone regularly but as you come to know him it makes sense. 

He’s not lazy- far from it actually. His insistence on stressing you to your wits end and then some is some kind of sick power game to him you reason. 

Still you remain unphased.

Helping him wash and dye his hair and the end of his tail is one thing but giving him a full manipedi every other day is much too much.

Milking him is practically a nightmare.

He bitches about you handling him too rough or the suction being too high when the machine is barely sucking faster than the milk is flowing out.

Insistent on using the main house bathrooms and showers, despite having his own personal one in his room, Vil will snap at anyone who questions him about it.

Oh what joy was hearing the news that your beloved “special princess”, as you liked to teasingly call him, had gone into rut.

This meant not only that you would both be blessed with a much needed break from each other but also that maybe just maybe getting laid would help him loosen up some. 

Too bad you only got a few hours into your first day off before receiving a call from a certain black haired man urging you to come back to the main house to hold up your end of a deal you simply could not refuse.

Vil looked a hot mess.

The heady smell of warm vanilla and some expensive cologne he loved to wear and you never remembered the name of smacked you in the face the second you stepped foot in your room. Having already set your things down you made your way to your bed, pulling your top over your head and plopping down on the corner next to his head.

 “Awwww did her highness decide to grace her lowly servant with her presence today? I’m surprised you didn’t bring your little boyfriend with you.” up close he looked more pathetic than you anticipated. Hair undone and sticking to the clammy skin of his shoulders, back and forehead. A defeated look on his face all wrapped up in one of your bed covers. 

“‘M not up for your teasing, not today. Did that old crow relay my message or do I have to tell you myself?” he chided. Words coming out slurred and jumbled as if he had drool pooled inside of his mouth. 

“Yeah yeah ‘In return for your services you will receive 50% of the next month and a half’s show and exhibit earnings! Aren't I a generous employer!?’ or somethin’ like that” Looking up at you with glazed over eyes and a straight flushed face he seemed unimpressed by your Crowley impression. 

“Good. You won’t mind this then” A sound akin to that of a startled puppy left you as Vil dragged you under his body still covered by one of your favorite blankets. This isn’t the first and probably wouldn’t be the last time he took it upon himself to manhandle you. Still you remain unphased. You squint a few times to let your eyes adjust to the light blaring down on the both of you. “You know from this angle, and without all that makeup you don’t look half bad.” you snickered before pulling your features into a more stern look. “Now get offa me” 

Wiggling in an attempt to sit up only pulled the two of you closer than you’d deem comfortable. “Ough gross. Please tell me you weren't laying up under my sheets ass naked the whole time I was gone??? Vil I swear the second this whatever you’re going through wears off I-” A pristinely polished thumb hooked into your mouth. Sitting up some his other hand reached down to pull down at your shorts. “You agreed to this, yes? So stop being a pain and let me get it over with”

Having discarded your bottoms he pulled the thumb that was sitting inside of your mouth away to unceremoniously shove inside of your cunt. “Tight and inviting, surprising. I was almost certain a whore like you would have made her way around the block a few times and then some” his words stung but not enough for you to let it show. “Trying so hard to look unbothered. It’s cute but I advise you to quit it.” Easing his thumb out of you to push and roll against your clit he lined up his head against you. ”Unless you want to make this harder for the both of us”

Feeling an inch or two ease its way into you made you tense. Vil dropped his face back down closer to yours, close enough for you to taste his breath. “I’ll be soft and sweet with you this time, but I have full intentions of breeding and breaking you until you can think of nothing but me.”

You’re going to kill Crowley. 

12.4.22 - more

[i-eat-worlds]

Starcross Part 4

New perspective!

Content: Conditioned whumpee, fear of punishment, multiple caretakers, food mention

Free Space, AFS Starcross, 5/5/4763

The infirmary doors hissed as Oka passed through them, two plates of food carefully balanced in both of their hands. Ziar had stayed with the new visitor overnight, and from what Veya had said, she wasn’t going to be coming up for air anytime soon. The lights were still red. She’d fiddled with the settings to let them sleep.

Since their last stop had been on Hurulose, breakfast denitely left something to be desired. They were simple mining rations, containing mostly dried fruit slices and sticks of preserved meat. Jesse, not impressed by the options, had baked some Kuliaen flatbread out of whatever ingredients she’d been able to find on the colony. “Morning,” Ziar said, looking back from the cabinets she was rooting through. Her voice was quiet to avoid waking the sleeping human. “You can set those over there.” She pointed towards the table at the front of the room.

The exhaustion on her face was obvious. Ziar was normally one of the better rested crew members, and it was odd to see them yawning so much. “Do you want me to get you some tea? Or whatever battery acid Jesse drinks?”

“Nah, I’ll be alright.” She turned towards them, heading towards the plates, and Oka narrowed their eyes.

A bandage was wrapped around her upper right arm. “What happened?” Ziar shrugged. “They got a little freaked out. It’s fine.”

Ah. Veya probably wouldn’t be happy about that. “How are they?”

“Stable. Exhausted and scared.” A beat of silence passed. “They…they’ve been through a lot, from what I can tell. When we land I’d like them to be seen by another doctor. I can pay.”

“I’ll run that by her.” The answer would probably be yes. Zarian was more friendly to those without proper affiliation. “If you need me to watch them so you can shower and spend some time with your leg o, I can watch them for a little bit.”

Ziar thought for a moment. “That would be good, yeah. How’s your Yeran?”

They made a “so-so” motion with their hand. “It’s descent. I’m no where near a native, but I can make it work.

She hummed. “Alright.” There was an uncertain pause. “They’re absolutely terried, Oka. You sure?”

They bit their lip for a second before speaking. “I’ve done this before, Ziar. I know.”

*** The weapon could tell that there was someone else, someone new in the room.

It kept its eyes closed, kept “resting” like Ziar had asked it too, of course, but it could tell. Their voice was hushed, and it couldn’t really make out what they were saying, but its stomach twisted into knots anyway. It couldn’t be anything good.

Ziar hadn’t punished it, at least not yet. She’d let it stay in the bed, with the blanket. She’d told it to sleep, to rest. The weapon had worried that it wouldn’t be able to, but the time in stasis had made it very tired. In less than an hour, it had been out like a light switch.

She’d left it mostly undisturbed, checking on it periodically, but not hurting it. It had heard her wake a while ago, but the weapon had still not been disturbed. It was being permitted to sleep in. That had never, in the history of the weapon’s existence, ever happened.

It shuddered at the thought of having to pay for these luxuries, for these mercies. It hadn’t been punished for biting yet, either. There was going to be a lot of pain in its future, and it knew that. The fact that it also dreaded it was inconsequential. The weapon had bit its better, then taken advantage of her kindness. It was what it deserved.

The conversation stopped, and it heard footsteps start to approach the bed. Despite its best efforts, it couldn’t help but go rigid.

“Are you awake?” Her voice was soft, gentle. “I’ve brought breakfast if you’re hungry.”

Food. Poisoned, perhaps, or incompatible with its digestive tract.

Slowly, it opened its eyes, the red glow of the room not overwhelming its sight. Ziar was on their left, a good meter away, keeping her distance. Behind her was someone else, a dark-skinned Sanatori who was wearing two different shimmering dangly earrings and holding a plate of food in shiny packages.

They smiled at it, in a way that almost seemed genuine. “This is Oka, (They/Them),” Ziar introduced. It froze, unsure what to do. Was there a way they would want to be greeted? What were the rules here? “I need to leave for a little while. Oka’s going to make sure that you’re okay. Ask them if you need anything, alright?”

It nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, and Oka isn’t either.” She said that a lot. The weapon wondered why she did, since it was an obvious lie.

Ziar beckoned for them to step forward, and they did, much closer than the Ziar had. “Hello, what’s your name?”

The weapon did a double take. It didn’t have a name, those weren’t for humans, for things like it. Maybe they wanted its identication number. “This Unit’s designation is KM-4682, sir.”

Oka gave it a confused look. “Okay. Can I call you Kim? Like KM?”

“You can call it whatever you want, sir.” The weapon was not permitted to have an opinion about its designation.

“It’s okay-” Ziar stepped a little closer, “-if you want to be called something else.”

It was like they were pushing it towards something, trying to get it to slip up, trying to get it trouble. Then again, it deserved punishment anyway. It had bit Ziar. “Kim is acceptable, ma’am.”

They both nodded. “If that ever changes, it’s alright to tell us,” Oka said. It sounded genuine. It couldn’t be.

The weapon was not permitted to have an opinion about its designation.

Ziar spoke with Oka in another language for a little bit, then she looked back to it. “I'll be back in a couple hours. Oka won’t hurt you.”The weapon nodded, unbelieving, and Ziar left the room. It ignored the pit in its stomach as Oka tore the rst pouch of food open. What were they going to do to it?

Taglist: @whump-snob @whump-kia @itsoundslikeafury @blackberry-bloody @snakebites-and-ink

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[friendlyengie]

I would love to hear ur hcs about the mercs sleeping habits (including ur OCs ofc)

ive always wanted To draw something for this but ive never had the like. Idea to do it in a way that would land the punchline. But basically on their days off I think Engineer is up until sunrise and Demo sleeps until sunrise and they sometimes catch each other in the middle but otherwise they wont see each other until theyre forced to start waking up at the same time again for work.

Anyways . Specifics. Hm.

Medic- trying to write this out for him I’m torn between “despite the way he is, Medic’s sleep schedule is shockingly consistent” and “he surgically removed the need for sleep out of his brain when joining Mann Co. and now sleep is like a recreational activity for him.” I genuinely think it could go either way.

Sniper- sleeps a solid 8 hours and still manages to pass out standing up during mission briefings. I don’t think his sleep is particularly pleasant, easily startled due to spy anxiety. But during his inappropriately timed naps? He could sleep through the base exploding probably.

Scout- Shockingly well put together morning person if he gets to sleep on time. Usually the second person up after Soldier to go on a morning run and shit. But if his sleep schedule is thrown an hour off track it all goes out the window. Drag his out of bed and he goes right to the couch and back to bed.

Heavy- With the way he lived growing up I could see him really having trouble with sleeping. Not easily startled, but very restless. Type of guy to occasionally have a “Something is Very Wrong” instinct kick in at 3 am and is perfectly aware that trying to get back to bed afterwards is a lost cause, so he’s learned to commit and has a handful of things that he does to pass the time instead.

Engineer- great at giving well thought out advice on why sleep is important, follows it unless he doesn’t. Celebrates his ability to keep himself on a good sleep schedule for a few weeks by letting himself go multiple days with no sleep if he feels like it’ll be “useful” for whatever he’s working on. Started to cap himself off at a 72 hour maximum after a 5-day streak resulted in the genius decision making that went into getting drunk and lobbing off his hand (And then remembering he probably should’ve had Medic around, or a proper gunslinger prototype built before doing so.)

Pyro- probably sleeps but always seems strangely and immediately attentive if you go to wake them up.

Demoman- respects his sleep schedule and expects you to as well. Fuck your all nighters, he knows how comfortable his bed is and he’s taking it. Hours vary depending on how much he’s been drinking, which will also determine how well he participates in the “guy who can just kind of fall asleep anywhere” club.

Spy- I feel like the only thing worse than sleep paranoia about spies is being a Spy trying to have a proper sleep schedule. Less as a result of his current job and more as a result of the many jobs hes taken in the past, I’d think Spy’s developed serious paranoia to letting his guard down in most regards, sleep included. Smoking supposedly “helped” the issue way in the beginning, most definitely just exasperates the issue now. Usually walks around the base with clear intent as to not be heard by anyone, so he’s probably got most of them convinced he sleeps pretty routinely.

Soldier- Consistently, on the dot, like clockwork. Not always the first to bed, but always the first to wake up. Wouldn’t wake up if you launched a bomb through his window but if you tried to gently nudge him to wake him up he would attack you like an enemy combatant and now you have to fight him and win.