#cause they are capable of doing so and you are all probably aware of how loud they fucking are I said it enough time 😭

[comradekatara]

On the topic of Sokka and failure and suicide: I think that it is probably rooted in the possibility that his failures, as a hunter and as a protector, COULD (and maybe did???) lead to deaths in his village. If he failed to bring home food or furs then people died, if HE failed to properly train the toddlers or watch over them properly during training then they could also get hurt or die, or themselves fail to bring home food or keep their people safe (which is to him obviously his fault as their trainer) and HE was the one who was meant to lead and protect and keep everyone safe.... It's so easy to see how that could spiral out into his severe deterioration after real failures during ATLA. Like, he is unique among the early Gaang that he is intimately familiar with the link between his actions and death, whether it's of people he cares about, animals, or eventually enemies. He's so painfully aware of it.

And speculatively, those toddlers would've all been born within a year of the men leaving! Which also means Sokka The Protector and Provider would've had no men (BC he wouldn't believe anyone else, they'd just be trying to make him feel better about being a failure) to reassure him that any pregnancies or newborns who didn't make it WEREN'T his fault and that he DID provide enough to keep mother and babe healthy. Or worse, he actually didn't do a good enough job and it did lead to close calls or difficult pregnancies or deaths. Either scenario would've fucked him up So Deeply.

yeah i talked about sokka’s perfectionist complex recently and also the fact that sokka is very much implied to be a good hunter, so like. yes. the stakes for any kind of failure are very high due to the nature of his responsibilities and what he believes he must excel in. he considers himself a provider and protector above all else. if he fails to provide for others, people starve. if he fails to protect others, people die. to fail to fulfill that role in any way is to be culpable for causing harm. and sokka never once considers whether putting that burden on a 13 year old was kind of unfair, actually, because he’s always been capable of excelling and thus it’s squarely his fault if he falls short in any way. but presumably, he doesn’t fail??

like, we really have no way of knowing, because so much of their childhoods and life before finding aang is framed exclusively from katara’s pov (she’s the narrator), but even what we do see is sokka holding the lantern for katara, sokka and kanna functioning as a unit when making decisions for the village, kanna trusting sokka more and telling katara to listen to her brother, sokka preparing to die a martyr. even the kind of “goofier” stuff, like katara soaking sokka with her “magic water,” or sokka trying to train a bunch of toddlers, or sokka’s watchtower getting destroyed, are all indicative of who sokka is and how he sees the world, in really fascinating ways.

obviously sokka’s reaction to katara waterbending is a complex one that we cannot fully understand when the show begins because we don’t actually know why and how waterbenders were targeted, so it reads as simple disrespect for something sokka doesn’t understand. and maybe it’s also jealousy, because i think literally anyone would be jealous if their little sibling had magic powers and you didn’t. but there’s definitely also fear there, fear that whoever informed the fire nation of there being one last waterbender left is still out there, that katara is still a target. it’s a fear informed by trauma, by sokka’s need to protect katara, to “keep his promise to dad.” it’s never outright spoken (unless you’re live action shein go girl give us nothing katara, of course), but it’s pretty obvious in retrospect.

there’s also the fact that katara is there with him in the first place. there’s never any indication one way or another whether katara and sokka going fishing together is a common occurrence, but i tend towards thinking it’s uncommon simply because sokka seems particularly pissed off by her presence, like she’s disrupting his peace. and i bet kanna is just sitting at home like “maybe i shouldn’t have let katara go fishing…” and then of course she comes home with a ghost and his flying bison, and kanna’s just like “goddammit. i knew this would happen. …..sort of.”

and sokka trying to train a bunch of toddlers seems funny at first, but is actually incredibly tragic, because sokka never actually questions the idea that the notion of childhood innocence does not exist, that from the moment you are born you must be prepared to die. it looks silly because he’s wrong, but it’s also heartbreaking because it’s all he knows. that scene is very explicitly establishing him as a foil to aang, setting up that deeper tension that underpins their relationship. katara immediately aligns herself with aang, recognizes the value of fun and the value of retaining one’s childhood, while sokka is positioned in opposition to this values from the get go. and sokka does eventually come around and embraces the value of fun, but he also embodies the burden (both material and psychological) that aang carries, and he functions as a sort of warning to aang to maintain his values, untouched by war, before it is too late. before aang lets his own burden overtake him and becomes what sokka already is.

and his watchtower is something i think about a lot too. it’s literally his only enrichment in his enclosure… sokka only lets himself practice what he thinks is useful, despite his love for all different forms of art and knowledge. so he can perfectly apply warpaint without so much as a mirror, and he can build a fucking functioning watchtower out of snow, but only because it serves a practical function. like, katara calls it “playing soldier,” because there is something sort of aesthetically childish about sokka building a watchtower out of snow like a glorified snowman and thinking that this makes him some kind of hardened general (we all start somewhere i suppose), but also, he is doing the best he has with the tools at his disposal, and he is in a war, and he is right to constantly be preparing for existential threats to his people, even if it does admittedly make him look kinda pathetic simply because his resources are so limited and he lacks the necessary experience to actually be successful in his mission. but also, that fact in itself is deeply tragic. this is what their once flourishing tribe has been reduced to; this child who thinks himself an adult is the first and last line of defense in their tiny, decimated village.

he thinks his purpose on this planet is so protect his people and his sister from a genocidal empire with basically no support and no resources at his disposal, and then he feels actively guilty when that situation is understandably difficult for him. so he probably always has been a proficient hunter (even as a 13 year old?? maybe he had help, but idk) because his reaction to that kind of failure (to protect & to provide) is so catastrophic during the show whenever it happens (most notably in the boiling rock arc) that there’s no way he has any sort of prior experience with that kind of consequentially devastating failure.

and not for nothing, but i do think the reason katara assumes that he’s fucking around and not doing real work is because unlike katara, he never actually complains about it, doesn’t struggle to do it, and in fact takes pride in it, is even a little smug about it. to the point that katara is like “why do i have to be stuck here doing tedious domestic labor while sokka gets to have fun hunting and fishing???” even though obviously sokka has never had fun a day in his life and deep down katara also clearly knows that.

but like, he really enjoys hunting because it’s the most literal realization of his role as provider. he loves being “the meat guy” because it’s a symbol of how he is able to embody this ideal of manliness through a practice he is actually good at (unlike a lot of other standards of masculinity he otherwise struggles to embody). he likes being the provider, caring for others in concrete, tangible ways, protecting the people he cares about. “oh sokka you really do have a heart,” katara exclaims, meanwhile his heart is and has always been the thing that defines his entire identity at the deepest, most fundamental level: his desire to put other people before himself every time, his need to be needed, the love he has for humanity that is so different from katara’s but in no way less significant. sokka will care for people, or die trying.

#estra-die-ol #asks #sokka #analysis #katara&sokka #kanna&sokka #aang&sokka #lmk if i should put this one under a readmore #it’s kind of medium length so idk #as it turns out. uhhh #you will never get me to shut up about sokka i could talk abt him for one million years and never get bored….

[yoohyeontual]

Round of applause for Alex, I’m going to bed before 1am 👏👏👏👏

#well after I put on my pyjama it will probably be 1am but that’s still great for me jcndjdnd #will I fell asleep before 4 am though ? still have to found out 🤪 #please wish me luck im’ exhausted my body is in ruin #also please send someone to beat up my neighbours if they start playing their music before 11am #cause they are capable of doing so and you are all probably aware of how loud they fucking are I said it enough time 😭 #i hate them so much #they probably gonna make me up at 11 like all day this week cause idk what they are doing but it’s like they are dropping a bowling ball #every 5 minute in the room above me I’m tired #you probably think i exaggerate but I’m not i never met anyone as loud as they are I can’t even believe it myself #my dad had enough and left a note on their door translated cause they woke up my mom at like 6-7am the same way to the point she yelled and #hit the ceiling which we never done cause we don’t want problems we want peace 😭 #but if they still continue to be as loud it’s gonna be a call to the landlord cause the neighbour above them is also tired of the music #and if we call the landlord they will be force to move out cause it’s their 3rd warning since they moved here 😅 #and they only moved her in like April ??? pretty sure the previous one moved in April idk but I miss him so much I want him back 💔 #anyway Goodnight it’s gonna turn 1 am in 5 minutes love y’all 💓 #well fast edit they are doing right what they are doing on the morning so I don’t think I’ll be sleeping for a while unless the fact #that I’m exhausted take control of my body 🤪 #I jumped 3 times in 5 minutes 🤪 #alex.txt

[zillychu]

I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!

I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol

Summary:

The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 

Setup:

In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 

While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 

Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 

Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 

And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 

Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 

What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?

About Danny:

He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.

His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 

He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.

The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.

Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 

Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.

He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 

He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 

Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.

His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 

He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 

Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 

He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 

Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 

(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)

Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.

Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))

#danny phantom #au #zilly art #I just wanted to draw a boy with long hair and claws how did this happen #fire core au

[dixons-sunshine]

You Are My Sunshine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Being pregnant was a challenge, and being pregnant in an apocalypse came with a whole set of challenges on its own. Luckily, you had Daryl to take care of you, even if he was sometimes a little bit overprotective.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, probably other things I can't think of right now.

A/n: My requests are open for any TWD character if y'all wanna send any! Also, I don't really know if pregnant ladies not being allowed to lift heavy things is factual or not. I just remembered someone telling me once that it could be harmful for the unborn child, and I've seen it being mentioned in movies and shows before, so I went based off of that. If it isn't true, please pretend that it is for my sake lol 🥲. (This is so rushed. I'm sorry for the bad writing 😭)

—

“Daryl, I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know.”

“I know ya can, but it dun' mean ya have to. Ya need to take it easy.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Dar, I have to do something. I can't let everyone else do everything while I sit on my ass all day.”

“Yer pregnant, I ain't lettin' ya overwork yerself. Anyone have a problem with tha', let me know and I'll handle 'em. I ain't lettin' anythin' happen to our baby jus' 'cause some people can't pick up the slack and ya have to do their work for 'em.”

“I highly doubt carrying one crate is gonna do anything,” you stated matter-of-factly, walking at a steady pace beside the archer while he was carrying the crate in question back to the pantry.

“Ain't riskin' it,” Daryl retorted with a sense of finality, pushing the crate onto one of the shelves before turning to you. He took a step towards you and placed a gentle hand on your growing bump, looking at you with a soft expression. “Ya and this baby, our baby, are the most important people in the world to me. I ain't lettin' anythin' happen to the two of ya. If tha' means carryin' a crate so tha' ya can rest or fightin' off a herd of walkers so tha' yer safe, so be it. I'd do anythin' for ya and our little one.”

You smiled softly at the archer you've grown to love above everything else. You leaned forward to press a quick, gentle peck on his cheek before leaning back, giggling at the bashful look and blush that coated Daryl's face from the small action. “Sorry,” you said with a light laugh, aware of his feelings of public displays of affection. “You're just too adorable sometimes, you know that?”

That elicited a scoff from Daryl. He withdrew his hand from your bump and stepped back, ducking his head down to let his hair hide the growing blush on his face. “I ain't adorable,” he retorted quietly.

“You are,” you responded with a light laugh. “There's nothing you can say that'll change my mind about that. You, Daryl Dixon, are adorable, sweet, caring and so much more. There honestly aren't enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe how perfect you are to me.”

Daryl scoffed again. He shook his head at you, but you could see his mouth twitch up into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah,” he started, glancing at you through the hair that hung in front of his eyes. “Yer the perfect one. ‘M lucky to call ya mine.”

“Don't start with me, Dixon. We can go back and forth about who's more perfect all day,” you joked, successfully gaining a small chuckle from him in response.

“Alrigh’,” he started, taking a step forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I ain't about to start an argument with the pregnant lady.”

“If that's the case, does that mean I can help out with the tasks around here?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, tha' I ain't lettin' happen. I was talkin' 'bout petty arguments. Ya need to take it easy and rest. Leave the work to the people who ain't got unborn babies in their bellies they have to worry 'bout.”

“Daryl—” you started, about to voice your protest, but the archer cut you off.

“None of tha',” he said with a shake of his head, his tone stern. “Ya remember the times ya wouldn't let me do much to help out when I was hurt? I could help jus' fine too, but ya were worried 'bout me and takin' care of me. Let me take care of ya now, alrigh'? Ya have more at stake here than tearin' a few stitches.”

You pondered over his words for a few moments, hesitantly nodding after a few seconds. “Alright,” you finally agreed with a small sigh. “I haven't really been getting much sleep these past few days. I guess I can go take a nap or something if that'll make you feel better.”

“Hey,” Daryl started, taking one of your hands in his. “This ain't because I think yer incapable to help out or somethin'. I know ya can, but I would feel better knowin' yer not accidentally overworking yerself. I've seen it happen before. Ya'd get so focused on a task and would overwork yerself without even knowin' it. I don't want tha' to happen to ya righ' now.”

“Okay,” you nodded, willing the feelings of being useless away at the archer's reassuring words, knowing he spoke nothing but the truth. “But the moment you guys desperately need an extra pair of hands, promise me you'll come get me?”

Daryl nodded half-heartedly, and you could tell that even if he promised he would, he probably wouldn't come get you. He'd put yours and your baby's safety above everything else, even at the cost of a few extra hours of work for him and the other Alexandrians.

You leaned up on your toes to press a feathery light kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You gave him a smile before turning to walk out of the pantry towards the home you shared with him. As soon as you reached the front door of your home and pushed inside, you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, discarding them by the table next to the entrance. You looked at the expanse of the quiet house and sighed, knowing you'd be alone until the sun started to set.

Well, you thought to yourself, I might as well make the best of my time alone. You went towards the kitchen to get a glass of water before descending up the stairs towards your room. You changed into something more comfortable before settling down on the bed, grabbing the book you were busy reading and flipping to the page you were busy with. You absentmindedly placed one hand over your stomach, the other holding the book as your eyes started to trail over the words on the page.

After a while, the words on the page started to blur together. You blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear your vision, but to no avail. Your eyes fell closed on their own accord, and within a few moments, you were asleep.

—

The feeling of the bed dipping beside you awoke you from your slumber. You opened your eyes and brought one of your hands up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. When your vision cleared, you locked eyes with Daryl, the man having a faint, soft smile on his face.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake ya,” he apologized, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hair back and away from your eyes.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, bringing yourself up to a sitting position. You grabbed the book that you had read before falling asleep and placed it on your bedside table, before shifting your attention back to the archer.

Daryl was seated on the edge of the bed, busy pulling his boots off of his feet. When he was done, he layed back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to rest on the bed. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture giving away how tired he was. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. The workload hadn't been that much that day, and as soon as the people were done they could return to their homes, so you couldn't understand why Daryl looked so tired. Unless...

“Daryl,” you said softly, instantly catching the archer's attention. “Did more work come in while I was here at home?” Daryl's silence was enough of an answer. “Daryl—”

“’S fine, nothin' we couldn't handle. Just some buildin' materials Maggie and the King sent us from their communities to fix up more houses. Rick wanted to get started on the repairs today, so Aaron and I got some people together to start.”

“Daryl,” you started, shaking your head. “I told you that if you needed an extra pair of hands to come and get me.”

“Nah, we were fine. Ya clearly needed the rest.”

“But—” you started to retort, but Daryl cut you off instantly.

“Michonne told me tha' really heavy liftin' ain't good fer a pregnant lady. Said it can hurt the baby, so I didn't want ya carryin' logs and other heavy materials around. The rest of us can handle tha'.”

“When did you talk to Michonne?” you asked skeptically, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

A sheepish look graced Daryl's features. He avoided your gaze and instead focused his eyes on the bedsheets. “About a week after we found out tha' ya were pregnant,” he admitted, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “I was askin' her and Carol wha' I could do to help make yer pregnancy easier, what would help with yer mornin' sickness and what ya should avoid doin', and she told me tha' ya needed to refrain from liftin' heavy things. Said it could harm the baby.”

“So that's why you've been so against me helping out around here?” you asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Daryl.

“Yeah. Most of the work we gotta do 'round here involves heavy liftin', and I didn't want ya accidentally hurtin' yourself or our little one because of it. Tha's why I've been so adamant about ya takin' it easy,” he confirmed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I didn't wanna be overbearin', but ya really wanted to help out with everythin' and the thought of somethin' goin' wrong because of all the hard work we have to do was too much fer me to handle. ’M sorry.”

You gently grabbed Daryl's hand, bringing it up to softly kiss his knuckles. “Why are you sorry? For not wanting anything to happen to me or our baby? You don't have anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing.”

“Fer wha'?” Daryl asked confusedly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“For being so adamant about working. I just... I didn't want to feel useless. I didn't want to feel like a burden because I couldn't help out.”

Daryl's eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. “Yer not a burden. Dun' ever think tha'. Yer carryin' a life in yer belly, and tha's takin' up most of yer energy and time. If anybody has a problem with the fact tha' ya can't work as hard as ya used to fer the next few months because yer pregnant, let me know and I'll beat their ass.”

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. Daryl noticed it and frowned, concern lacing his voice.

“Wha's wrong?” he asked frantically, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks gently. He wiped away the tears that fell with his thumb.

“Hormones,” you said simply, laughing through your tears. “I don't even really know why I'm crying.”

“C'mere,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to lay your head down on his chest. You shifted your body until your were comfortable, wrapping your arms around him as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Daryl's arms wrapped around you, one of his hands venturing down to your baby bump. He gently started to caress your stomach, his hand's soft movements making you sleepy almost instantly.

“’M sorry fer bein' so overprotective,” Daryl said after a few moments of silence, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“And I'm sorry for being so stubborn. I promise I'll be more careful and take it easier from now on,” you promised, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest.

“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Any more of yer stubbornness and I would've been forced to lock ya in the house whenever their was work to do.”

You laughed and lightly hit one of his arms that were wrapped around you, eliciting a chuckle from the archer. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love ya too,” he responded, placing another kiss on your head. "Now get some more rest. I'll be righ' here when ya wake up.”

You nodded against his chest and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, your own personal lullaby. As your eyes drifted closed for the second time that day, you swore you could hear Daryl start to hum a song. A song you've been singing to your baby in your stomach since you found out you were pregnant.

You are my sunshine.

A smile formed on your face as Daryl lowly continued to hum the song, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. With the gentle caress of his hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the song he was humming, you soon drifted into slumber, safe in your archer's arms.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

[disfrutalakia]

Bagi and Richas talk about Jaiden (28/02/2024)

"B: Richinhas, we have one problem only... How many months has it been since that explosion on purgatory?

B: When you went to get your dad Cellbit, your aunt Baghera, what was the situation there in purgatory?

R: Explosion? 0_0 OOOHHH THAT ONE, YES

B: There on egg island

B: For me it was a purgatory, you know how it is

R: So, they were all fucked, mom kkkkkkkkkk

B: It's because, for many months now Empanada has been wating for one of her moms to come back from there

B: And I thought that she would at least come back with Cellbit and Baghera

R: Made me think I should have gone there sooner

R: OHH

R: Who? 0_0

B: Come here Richinhas

B: Did you maybe (points at a sign with Jaiden's name) saw this person there, when you went... you know?

B: Richinhas

R: Mom 0_0 hmmm

B: Oh Richinhas... Oh noo I made you sad too, come here son (open arms for a hug) Come here, come here (hugs)

B: Didn't want to make you sad, I... I just brought up this subject because it has been a very long time that Empanada has been waiting for her and I don't know if she survived

R: kkkkkkkk Not exactly sad, mom

B: I don't know if she survived son!

B: How will I tell this story to Empanada, she has been waiting for months

R: It's just

R: How do I explain kkkkkk

R: Hmmm also you made remembered me that I need to do something mom

R: Anyway, aunt Jaiden, you met her right mom?

B: I did met her, Richinhas, I did

B: I liked her wings, even though I thought she was too friendly with Cucurucho

B: That's why I thought it was weird for her to not come back with Cucurucho or something if she had gotten stuck there

R: I think if it was ON PURGATORY kkkkkk

R: Considering the state dad Cellbit was in, you maybe didn't get to met THE aunt Jaiden

B: No, I met her before all this, I met her before all the tragedy

B: I met her at the time she was friendly with Cucurucho and led a kind of normal life, she lived at that village, the girl village where Jaiden, Tina and Mouse lived, I think

R: And even I, only saw aunt Jaiden once

R: And I say that... let's say there were 2 aunt Jaidens

R: The aunt Jaiden that lost Bobby and the aunt Jaiden that left grief behind just a little bit

R: That aunt Jaiden, I only saw her once

R: And... I will miss her, you know mom? kkkkkkk

R: You know when the things that made you remember what was important for you, they look like they go away little by little

R: And you just forget

R: It's very scary

B: Ah, son

B: I know it's scary

B: The time passage everyday is scary

B: Getting older is scary

B: To see time pass and watch some people not coming back is scary

R: But aunt Jaiden won't come back

B: None of them right?

R: One of them I think died some time ago

R: And then, those 2 were left

R: But those 2 too... I guess they went away then

R: I won't do that, neither will Pom, or dad Cellbit, or aunt Baghera, but if you need to tell Empanada, promise me that all the dreams she had of one day being loved like Bobby by aunt Jaiden, keep them alive, alright? >:D kkkkkk

B: Oh go Richarlyson, everytime you break your mom by making me cry

R: Cause I have an impression that would be... I mean, that wouldn't be true kkkkkk but love is kind of unconditional

R: Like a friend would say, and well, pa Roier kkkkkk

B: Yeah

B: I'm aware their love is unconditional

R: Em will probably get very lost

R: No mom, not that 0_0

B: Oh okay! I was thinking of other side

R: But, pa Roier loves Pepito too right?

B: Of course, of course, I get what you meant

B: It's a thing I had to explain a lot to Empanada that just because Jaiden had an egg before, she wouldn't be capable of loving her

B: Because each person lives on a different place of our heart

R: Maybe she will never understand mom kkkkkk

B: I know

R: Everyday I see Pepito and I feel Pepito also thinks that sometimes, you know? But that's what pa Roier is there for, to smile and to assure Pepito that Pepito is important too

R: Then on Em's and aunt Jaiden's case... It looks like it was all a evil thing from the federation

R: But she is already gone 0_0 has been for a long time

B: Wow son, so young and you already deal with so many complex feelings so well

B: Better than me

R: Nahh

R: I don't talk, but I'm here to tell you mom 0_0

R: Above everything, just keep Em happy, ok? >:D kkkkkkkkk

B: Of course

R: Your love counts for 7 loves kkkkk

B: Hey and you, occupy the other half of my heart alright? You too

B: I take care of her and I take care of you too

B: I know you have a lot of dads but you have your mom too"

#qsmp #translation #qsmp bagi #qsmp richarlyson

[the-s1lly-corner]

Various HH characters x autistic!reader

Prize 1/5 for @coldsushisworld ! I hope you enjoy!

This post includes: charlie, vaggie, alastor, Lucifer, adam, and lute

CHARLIE

Honestly I can see Charlie herself being somewhere on the spectrum! So she can relate to you in some way when you're having some struggles. Shes so so accommodating when it comes to your needs, quite literally bending over backwards to make sure the hotel is a safe space for you. Theres likely a sensory room somewhere in the hotel, where you (or really anyone!) Can go to unwind and just vibe. Protective of you, as she is with everyone else she cares about. You.. may have to get her to cool it if things get a little too heated. Warm and smells like apple pie, and I dont know about you guys but that's possibly one of the most pleasing and calming combos

VAGGIE

Very quick to shut things down if someone tries to get on your case for your needs for whatever reason, same goes for anyone who does it without intending to be harmful/doing it unknowingly. Shes your guard dog, and shes going to make sure you're safe mentally and physically. Likely stands trying to choose between different fidgets to pack for an outing trying to determine which one might come more in handy. Packs both. Actually she definitely has a pack somewhere for you that has a bunch of items to carry on you to help you out (water, headphones, ect ect). Despite that she does think you're capable and will step back if her worries cause her to overstep and make you feel bad. Vaggie does tend to have trouble gauging how much effort and feeling into things

ALASTOR

In the nicest way possible, he does not care. Obviously he doesn't care in the "I dont care that you're ND and I'm not going to avoid doing things that trigger you", it's a "I dont care because it is what it is", and besides hes got manners! Sometimes the static ambience around him can be comforting, like white noise.. sometimes he hums or softly plays music if you need something to focus on during an overwhelming moment. However if it makes things worse it's getting cut the second you say something. You're the only person allowed into his radio tower, if you need an escape

LUCIFER

As stated above I headcanon that Charlie is somewhere in the spectrum so he already has an idea of what to do to make things easier and more welcoming for you! Thankfully his home isnt too chaotic and he doesnt usually switch up his routine so if routines mean a lot for you Lucifer is your man! Puts his crafting skills to good use and makes you personalized fidget toys! He loves talking to you but if you need him to be quiet for a while he'll be understanding and work quietly on his ducks. Similarly to his daughter he doesnt let anyone try to make you feel bad for trying to tend to your needs. Though hes less of a pushover/holds his temper a little easier than charlie, but hes still quick to shut anything down

ADAM

In the beginning he can be a little.... how does one say this nicely? Not the best.. hes not at all educated so you're probably going to have to sit him down and find a way to get him to listen. Hes a little misguided when it comes to helping you moving forward but there is a new added effort in there. Takes you away from environments that are too overwhelming for you, or tells everyone to shut the hell up.. which might make things worse thanks to his shouting. He's got the spirit but his methods are not the best. His wings are soft and as long as you dont pluck anything out, he let's you run your fingers through his feathers. Would get sucked into those sensory and/or asmr videos with you

LUTE

I can see her being on the spectrum too tbh but I dont think shes aware, so anytime you try to bring up the possibility of her being ND she kind of just dismisses it. "Everyone does that," mindset. While she doesnt totally understand all of your habits and needs, she still does her best to make sure you're satisfied. She can be callous with others, often causing conflict to those who choose not to listen to an exterminator.. though to heavens citizens what status to exterminators have..? Shrugs. Shes a little.. tense? Harsh? No harsh sounds mean. Shes not used to being tender for someone else, so this is all a learning process for her.. its going to take a while before she grows accustomed to you autism or not.. but shes trying, because she does love you even if shes not used to these feelings!

#hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #charlie x reader #charlie x you #charlie morningstar x you #charlie imagine #vaggie x you #vaggie imagine #vaggie x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #radio demon x you #radio demon imagine #radio demon x reader #Lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin adam x you #hazbin adam x reader #adam x you #adam x reader #hazbin lute x reader #lute imagine #lute x reader

[circeyoru]

Omg I've just caught up on the Colle tion of Overlords and I gotta say, it's fantastic!

I'm so sorry if you're getting overwhelmed with ideas/requests but the brainrot will not stop, so here goes-

Regarding the Collector's relationship with Lucifer, and how he's technically just a bit more powerful than them, I had the thought of what would happen if Charlie, being Lucifer and Lilith's daughter, had a huge outburst (maybe over Angel's contract or smth to do with Heaven? Idk) and, completely by accident, hurt the Collector

It wouldn't be because she's a lot more powerful or something, but mainly because the Collector wasn't paying attention/had been so caught up with other affairs that they hadn't noticed Charlie getting more powerful, if only slightly

The Collector wouldn't be hurt in any way, shape or form that would cause permanent damage, probably the equivalent to getting a slightly scraped knee to them, but everyone else is completely shocked and doesn't know how to react (with the exception of Charlie who is just immediately and profusely apologizing) cause they didn't know it was even possible for them to get hurt

With how you've portrayed them so far, I'm wondering how the Collector would react, maybe overplaying it and disappearing for a time (while being completely fine) so Charlie gets a bit more respect, or simply brushing it off and treating the Princess like a niece who just made a mistake and offering to help her train along with her dad (very jealous overlords incoming), or smth else entirely

Sorry for this being so long, I've only just discovered your work and have already fallen in love! Drink water, eat food, and take care of yourself first and foremost ❤️

This is for {Collection of Overlords} , check MASTERLIST for the work

Welcome to this series~! Thanks for staying and having an interest!! No worries~ Taking care of myself~~ (I've stopped request cause of an incident, but I'm getting to the ones from before. Most likely it'll be open in May)

Anyways~ Your ideas.

Charlie can't harm Reader/you in any way. She may be Lucifer's daughter, but (as of season 1) she doesn't have angelic powers. That is your one weakness and possible method of harm and death. Otherwise, you can't be harmed or killed under any other power or circumstance.

You'll understand when Part 7 comes out.

As for your relationship with Charlie. Yeah, you see her as a niece of sorts. You did consider being her mentor like you did with Lucifer, but you don't see her as mature enough or needing your guidance that strongly.

Remember in Rosie and Alastor's bit in "Ready for This"?

They're dancing along They're singing her song Surprised? Why, I knew she could do it all along She's bound to pass the test as princess of Hell Like her daddy, she is madly power-fell She's filled with potential that I could guide I concur! Stick with her, you'll be on the winning side

Now notice the part where Alastor and Rosie smile together. "Pass the test", what test? In the show, it could be dismissed, but in this series, no no, there's meaning. Rosie and Alastor, as well as other Overlords, will see a lot of challenges or tricky situations as tests set by you to prove worthiness and capability. Overlords are aware that you raised Lucifer to where he is now, so they step back when it comes to matters of the Morningstar family. Vox stating that he has to avoid Alastor making a deal with Charlie and Zestial asking why Alastor is with Charlie is a sign that they are being cautious so as not to interfer with any possible plans of yours.

No doubt, Charlie is powerful. But to you, she is nothing because she doesn't have angelic powers to counter you. Overlord acknowledges that Charlie is the next in line, but they observe to see if you'll be bring her to the throne or by her own powers. So far, it's all on her own without any interference or help from you. Alastor and Rosie sticking to Charlie to be on the winning side implies your favour and attention. If they were to support Charlie who is from royalty, you are bound to praise them. Part 4 proves it when Carmilla, Rosie, and Alastor were all rewarded, while the Vees that watched it all was punished, and Zestial and Zeezi the neutral parties were left untouched.

Say, Charlie or someone else did accidentially or purposely attacked you. It's like ants walking on your arm to you. You just brush it off.

"Oh, I felt an itch."

You'd be confused as to why Charlie is apologizing cause nothing harmed you, and your clothes were slowly reforming under Alastor's coat that he immediately dapped on your shoulders. Alastor explained and you laughed, patting Charlie's head, you'll tell her to train more and hope to give you a massage.

Ah, the bit about you disappearing. You have little to no public image or presence to the sinners in Hell. Only the Hellborns know of you and they keep themselves because of it. You don't appear much to your Overlords as well. So when you say 'disappear', you'd be implying that you are gone for like 15+ years to cause something to happen.

If that happens, Charlie isn't getting respect, she's getting a full-out war from all the Overlords and their army directed at her without mercy. The other Rings would have heard of it as well, and the Sins are aware of your affiliation with the Overlords, they were your personal army (in a way). So, to see them move against the heir to the throne like that and hear that Charlie's the reason for your disappearance? The Sins will join in on the fight. There'd be a rebellion on hand and the Morningstars will be dethroned to nothing.

After that, your presence will be announced to all of Hell, and you will be back on the throne. No one will take your place again. Before, the Sins agreed to let Lucifer rule because you told them you'd rule from the shadows like a mastermind. But the moment one of them (Lucifer, Lilith, or Charlie) bites the hand that fed them accidentally or on purpose, then no way will the Sins let this slide.

No matter how docile the Overlords and Sins are to the King, Queen, and Princess of Hell right now, their allegiance is to you, the true Ruler of Hell, first and foremost. Nothing changes that.

Wait till Part 7 comes out. You'll see what I mean when I say you're quite OP.

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel overlord #Collection of Overlords #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie hazbin hotel #overlords #hazbin #zestial #carmilla hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel zestial #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla x reader #hazbin carmilla #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vees

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part Five

You struggle to re-establish a purpose in Jackson. But the Miller brothers will always keep you on your toes.

Words: 5.2k

Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Four

Warnings: smutty smut smut, oral (m receiving), kind of subby Joel maybe?, like shades of subby, whimpers and groans, carpentry

Minors DNI

You envied people who didn’t remember their dreams. Yours lingered with you, so much accumulated horror for your brain to draw upon. The crunching of dried-out fungus under boot. The squelch of blood running over clenched fist. The screams of your sister, reverberating with the screams of your dad, of your mum, of yourself. Formless and vacant of hope, a belligerent and unrelenting slideshow.

You woke with a start in your own bed, alone and trying to piece together how you got there. After Joel had taken care of you on the coffee table you had slumped towards him, head on his shoulder, and took in all the air your lungs could get. The exhaustion was overwhelming and you had felt yourself go limp in his arms, dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you up the stairs. You’d had enough presence of mind to worry he was going to hurt his shoulder before he had you wrapped up in your blanket. You didn’t hear him leave.

You supposed you should be happy, but you had long started to suspect that it wasn’t really an emotion you were capable of. Even before outbreak day you’d had too much to worry about. You had already come to terms with the fact that happiness just wasn’t something your mind could do. Terror, though. That was your speciality.

At the bottom of the stairs, you peered through the front window at the rest of Jackson going about their day. Ordinarily, you would have been setting up for your first client, but you’d already cancelled them. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into the treatment room, hadn’t been in there since your table collapsed. The excitement of Maria delivering, the thrill of being somewhat useful, had allowed you to forget for a second that your vocation, the one thing that had got you into Jackson and probably saved your life in the process, was over. Without the table you were limited to straddling grumpy men in your kitchen, and that was a whole different job.

You glanced in at the living room, eyeing the coffee table suspiciously. You were running out of safe rooms in your house.

—

You kept your eyes down at the mess hall, only glancing up once or twice to ensure that the coast was clear. You weren’t surprised to see that Ray wasn’t there, assuming that he was manning the radio with Simon trying to scout any danger for Marla and the crew. The expedition was expected to take several days, longer if the weather turned. There was no cause for alarm, no reason to assume anything was amiss. But you knew Ray, and that that wouldn’t stop him.

Halfway through your porridge a tray dropped onto the table in front of you, and you startled, snapping your head up. You felt your stomach flip, the rolled oats no longer sitting comfortably beside the acid and bile in your stomach.

‘Mind if I sit?’ Ellie asked, already settling into the chair. You shook your head, swallowing heavily.

‘No, course,’ you said.

‘You looked lonely, you always look lonely.’

‘You’re very observant,’ you said, not sure if this was truly a compliment.

‘We just got back to Jackson,’ Ellie said, undeterred.

‘So I hear.’

‘I think we’re staying for a while,’ she went on largely without you. Her eyes had drifted to the middle distance, and you could see that she was thinking.

‘And how do you feel about that?’ you prompted. Her gaze shifted back to you, and she shook her head as if the thoughts were clinging to her clothes.

‘I’ve seen you around,’ she said, and you got the feeling she was starting the conversation over again, to see if she could improve it a second time. You let her.

‘Yup,’ you said.

‘You touch people,’ she said simply, and you blinked, had no idea what to make of it.

‘Umm…’ you started, and she interrupted you.

‘Dina says it helps people feel good,’ Ellie continued, as did your concerns.

‘What exactly did she day I do?’ you desperately tried to clarify.

‘You rub people and they feel good.’

Nope. Not better.

‘Massage,’ you spat out abruptly, ‘it’s a kind of therapy, physical therapy…but not like, it’s not…it’s good for your muscles, for your spine.’

‘Right,’ Ellie said, as if this was obvious, and you were very relieved to have got that sorted out at least.

‘You massaged Joel,’ she went on, and you wondered how hard it would be to jam your butter knife into your eye socket and remove yourself from the conversation, if not the planet, completely. ‘He told me it helped. Well he didn’t tell me, but he was all angry and sore…more than normal…then Tommy made him see you and he was better after that. He was his normal grumpy self, not his sore grumpy self.’

‘I’m happy to have helped,’ you said. You had given up trying to predict where the conversation was going, and now you were just tagging along behind her.

‘You did help,’ she said, leaning forward on her chair, up on her elbows on the table. ‘I want to help, too.’

‘You…do?’

‘Yeah I thought I could…I thought I was going to but, it didn’t…’ She looked around the room, flustered, and dipped her head lower to murmur underneath the sounds of the other tables. ‘I thought that I could help people one way, but it didn’t work out, and I just want to see if there’s another…fuck it actually, this is stupid.’

‘No, it’s not stupid,’ you said, and you reached out to put your hand on her arm, but she pulled it back like you had burned her.

‘You probably think I’m too young,’ she said, rolling her eyes but also really seeming to mean it.

‘I was your age who I started learning,’ you said, and watched as her eyes lit up, finally rising back to meet yours.

‘You were?’ she asked, and you nodded, grinning at her.

‘I think so, yeah. I mean, how old are you, Ellie?’

Like a shot her smile dropped, and she slunk backwards and away from you, receding into the chair and appearing to you to deflate to half her size. ‘What, what did I…’ and then you realised, cursed yourself and your remaining three brain cells. She hadn’t told you her name.

‘Who’s been talking about me?’ she asked, so quietly you only just heard. You swallowed. You remembered what it was like to be a teenager, to be relentlessly comparing yourself to your peers, to the women in magazines and on tv, to be relentlessly self-conscious, to be convinced everyone is talking about you and also worse, that no one is.

‘I asked Maria who you both were who you arrived,’ you said, deciding it was safer to talk about Maria then it was to talk about Joel. ‘I saw how Tommy reacted to Joel, and to you, and I didn’t understand what was happening so I asked.’

Ellie nodded, considering this, and you could see she had already worked out that it wasn’t the whole truth, but you hoped it was enough truth that she didn’t disappear on you.

‘What did she say?’ she asked, and you thought very hard and very fast to think of a good answer. You would have preferred a minefield.

‘Just that you were Joel’s kind of adopted daughter and that you’d been out of town for a while…and that she was super happy to have you back.’ You prayed the last part would ring true in some way, that it would be enough to reassure her. ‘Maria cares about you a lot.’

‘Maria doesn’t know me,’ Ellie replied. I don’t trust that he’s not keeping her in the dark.

‘She doesn’t need to, she just cares anyway,’ you said, and you meant it.

A loud group of teenagers, slightly older than Ellie if you had to guess, pushed into the mess hall and you watched as she pulled away from you even further, taking up residence about three centimetres back from her own skin. Her eyes were hard, vacant. You had seen the same look on Joel, and you knew then that she was a quick learner.

‘Ellie-‘ you started, but she was pushing her chair back.

‘Never mind,’ she said over her shoulder as she hurried away.

—

The mood in the town shifted over the next few days. Neither Marla nor any of the other crew had radioed in since reaching the third checkpoint, and there had been heavy, low-hanging clouds threatening the mountains. You had wondered about going in to see Ray, but you weren’t sure what you could say that would be any consolation. You worried, perhaps unfairly but also perhaps not, that you would say the wrong thing, that in your haphazard if well-intentioned way you would lose him, too. Instead, you stayed away.

You also avoided Joel. You felt the urge to keep a respectful distance, to try and pretend like it had never happened, like you hadn’t grasped his shoulders and come harder than you had in literal decades. You weren’t sure if you remembered ever having felt the way he had made you feel in an embarrassingly short period of time, but also you weren’t sure what it meant, if anything. If this was just something that Joel did, how he kept himself busy at the end of the world. You didn’t want to be his distraction, and you didn’t want him to distract you, especially when you had so much to pointlessly worry about.  

You’d had boyfriends, one before outbreak day and two and a half in the years after. A lot of the time it was convenience, sometimes protection, but never passion. You’d read that during times of national crisis birth rates skyrocket and you’d never been able to understand why. Nothing about a brain-obliterating fungus was all that attractive to you. You wondered if what had happened with Joel was just about you finally feeling safe. If it was less Joel and more Jackson. You felt better about things, if that were true. You hoped it was.

You took the short walk to Maria’s, a tray of lasagne in your hands that you’d begged and borrowed at the mess to be able to make. There wasn’t any oregano or basil, so you just got generous with the salt and hoped for the best. You thought about your mum’s cooking, which wasn’t really all that great either. Her method was throwing Italian herb mix in to any pasta sauce in the hope that it would make it taste better than the sum of its parts. It rarely worked, but you couldn’t blame a girl for trying.

You stood on Maria’s porch, not sure if you should knock. You were worried about waking the baby, or waking Maria, or that the wrong Miller brother would be home. You worried that you wouldn’t be welcome, that you’d done too much at the birth, that you had overstepped in some way that you weren’t aware of but that would make it impossible for Maria to now be your friend.

Just as you were about to leave the lasagne on the front porch and make a break for it, the door swung open, and you were met with Tommy’s surprised face.

‘Umm, hi,’ you said, taking a step away from the doorstep without even noting. Tommy looked down at your hands, took the lasagne from you and put it gently on the console inside the door, then wrapped his arms tight around you and pushed all the air out of your lungs. You couldn’t even gasp in surprise.

‘You…’ he said, and he trailed off, and you felt the warmth and the comfort of his arms, and you suddenly thought you might cry. You pulled away, fast.

‘How are they?’ you asked, and Tommy beamed. Looking at him now, you realised he was absolutely exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.

‘Come see,’ he said, pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. You could hear humming, contented gurgling, and followed it into the lounge room. Maria was sitting up on the couch, son at her breast. She smiled when she saw you, and you looked down at the baby in her arms, and felt love physically enter your body.

‘Oh Maria,’ you whispered, and she grinned back at you.

‘I am so fucking tired,’ she stage-whispered, and you had to try hard not to laugh too loud. His little fist was balled up and resting on her chest, and you could see the tiny thumbnail, purple and deep red, and it was too small and too precious for the world around it.

‘I have to go…run an errand,’ Tommy said quietly from the doorway. ‘Will you two be OK?’

Maria waved him off.

‘I ran off the other night before I asked you his name,’ you said, coming to sit beside Maria so that she didn’t have to turn her head to talk to you. She leant into your shoulder, and it was peaceful and warm and the kind of thing you do with a good friend, and you wondered if she’d object to adopting you.

‘We were going to go with Joel Junior,’ she said, and you wrinkled your nose.

‘Too alliterative,’ you said, and she nodded.

‘Also still not convinced about him,’ she said, and you felt something shift in your belly.

‘He was good the other night, with Tommy.’

‘He saw a lot of me I never intended him to,’ Maria said, and your heart sank. Should you have got rid of him? He was there for Tommy, you realised, not Maria. Should you have objected, said something? Had Maria been trying to telepathically tell you to do something, and you missed it? ‘It’s OK,’ Maria said, sensing the way your body had tensed. ‘I wasn’t really paying much attention to him, in fairness.’

‘You were kind of busy,’ you agreed. You listened to the baby suckling quietly, little contented grunts coming from his throat. ‘So, it’s not Joel Junior,’ you prompted.

‘Robin,’ Maria said. ‘There are so many here in Spring, and I love their little songs.’

You reached a hand out to cup his head in your palm. ‘That’s perfect,’ you said. For a long moment you just watched him, the peace of him, so wrapped up and warm and safe in the arms of his mother. You ached for your own for a second, before you pushed the thought away, told yourself this wasn’t the time.

‘It feels different out there,’ Maria said. ‘I can even tell, and I haven’t left the house in days.’

‘Vibes aren’t great,’ you agreed.

‘Tommy’s worried, but he won’t tell me.’

‘The expedition is just taking longer than it should,’ you said. ‘If there was anything to tell I’m sure he would.’

Maria regarded you for a long moment, and you realised she wanted more answers, but you had none to give her.

‘He’s like Joel, like his big brother,’ Maria said eventually, and you felt heat up the back of your spine. ‘Protective,’ she added. ‘To the point of locking you out in the cold to save you from the monster under the bed.’

—

You kind of wished Maria would stop dropping truth bombs on you, then leave you to work through the rubble on your own. You walked the long way back to your place, down behind the hall and past the lake, just to see if you could push her words out of your body through your feet.

It meant that you arrived back on your front step just as the sun was setting, and you were surprised to see the lights in your house on. You were sure you wouldn’t have left them on in the daylight. You pushed the door open, trying to remember if you’d locked it. No one did in Jackson, but you liked to when you were going to bed, partly to believe that you could do anything that might prevent some kind of harm.

‘Hello?’ you called down your hallway, thereby alerting any potential attackers to your exact whereabouts. You rolled your eyes at yourself. Jackson had definitely made you soft.

There were no weapons in your entry way. You considered whether taking your boots off and throwing them would cause enough of a head injury to get away, but it would be harder in your socks. In Chicago you’d kept a baseball bat beside the door, and used it only once.

‘That you?’ you heard a voice call, and you paused. Were you ‘you’?

‘Maybe?’ you called back, and you heard two sets of laughs. One deep and huffy. You’d recognise it anywhere. Your feet moved all by themselves.

Joel and Tommy were standing in your treatment room. The broken table was gone, and in its place a brand new, clearly custom made, massage table stood. Thin enough so that you didn’t need to climb on top of it to rearrange the towels, and just the right shape to give a body a warm and safe place to rest.

Your hand flew to your mouth, and you felt tears pushing hot onto your cheeks. Tommy grinned at you while Joel watched, careful and reserved. You didn’t have words, could barely wrap your head around what you were seeing.

‘You helped so well with Maria, kept her going when anyone else would have quit,’ Tommy said, while you were trying hard to breathe. ‘You did so good, so we wanted to say thank you.’

You let out a gasping, gulping, tearful laugh, nodding your head at him. ‘That’s OK, you’re welcome,’ you said, but you were laughing and crying simultaneously, so it was hard to know if you’d made any sense.

‘It was Joel’s idea,’ Tommy said, smiling at his older brother, who promptly blushed and looked ready to murder him. ‘Come look,’ Tommy said, extending a hand towards you and pulling you by the arm further into the room.

The massage table had built-in padding under a leather cover, that was attached to the wood with studs along the edges. The leather had clearly been something else in a past life, the stitching haphazard and criss-crossing over the base, but you would cover it with towels anyway. You pushed a hand out and pressed down on it, finding it delightfully spongey, and soft. You wanted to lean down and put your nose to it, inhale the leather, the warm sunshine on swatches of yellow and green fields. Inhale a different life, an older one long passed.

‘And here, this is the headrest,’ Tommy said, continuing his tour. ‘It sits in its own little track carved in here, see? So you can remove it or slot it back into place. Maria said that’s what the proper tables used to have, so you could lie face down.’

You nodded, confirming that this was indeed true. You reached out and put your hands on it, let your fingers reach underneath to feel the joins in the wood. They were smooth, carefully crafted. You knew they were Joel’s, carried his strong but gentle touch, his precision, his care.

You gazed at him, completely blindsided by the craftmanship and the generosity. The moment hung in the air, the two of you watching each other. You wanted to tuck your head under his chin and cry into his chest, wanted to rip his shirt off him and shred it with your teeth so he could never wear anything ever again, wanted to hold his face in your hands and keep it, not let the moment pass, let your hands on his skin secure the warmth there, hold the look on his face, for eternity.

‘I should head back,’ Tommy said, and you pivoted immediately towards him and threw your arms around his neck. He laughed, wrapping his arms around you. ‘Now we’re square,’ he said, and you gurgled your acceptance.

After he left, you worried Joel would go, too. Worried that all of this had been obligation, had been at Tommy’s insistence, had been a way of winning Maria over. Worried at how badly you wanted him to stay, worried that it wasn’t just Jackson but that it was him, that it was always going to be him, and that right now every nerve ending was on fucking fire just because he was looking at you. You waited for him to grunt or nod at you and turn his back, but he stayed standing, his brows knitted together, one hand on his hip.

‘It’s beautiful,’ you said, because the tension was starting to mount now that Tommy had gone, and if he kept looking at you like that you were going to combust. Your voice wobbled, and you swallowed glue and razor blades to try and steady it. ‘Where did you get the leather?’

‘Found an old couch lying around, no bother,’ he said. His voice was low, like he thought you were going to run from the room, but in that moment you didn’t trust your legs. You nodded your head because words were failing you, but then suddenly you had too many of them, and they were all going to come out right now, all at once.

‘Its just that the massage table, I know it’s silly…but it was what I used to do before outbreak day, and it was kind of who I am or maybe I just think of it as that, but I just worry that if I don’t have anything to offer no one will keep me.’

Jackson. You’d meant to say you were worried they wouldn’t let you stay in Jackson. But that wasn’t at all what you’d said.

Joel took two steps forward, grabbing your face and rubbing at the tracks of tears on your cheek with one hand, the other snaking behind you to hold your back. You gasped, staring up into his brown eyes, the salt and pepper of his beard, the lower lip you wanted to nip with your teeth. You waited for him to say something, anything, but holding you was also enough. Under his patient gaze your breath slowed, you stopped feeling your heart thundering in your chest, felt your shoulders drop.

‘Joel…’ you whispered, and he was on you then, head dipping down to bite at the skin behind your ear, hand roaming over your hips to cup your bottom, grind you into him, where you felt him hard and heavy against your core.

‘Let me-‘ he started, but you stopped him, gripping him by the shoulder and pulling away.

‘No, let me,’ you said, suddenly bold under his wanting touch. ‘Table’s fixed now, so there’s no excuses.’

He cocked and eyebrow, blinking at you. ‘You want me on that?’

‘What’s the matter, don’t trust your craftmanship?’

‘Baby, a massage isn’t exactly what I-‘

‘Down to your boxers and face in the hole,’ you said, grabbing a towel from a nearby stack and putting it down on the leather.

‘You could at least help,’ he said, grumpy again, and you grinned happily at him.

‘I’ll step out and let you get ready,’ you said, in full-blown professional mode, just to fuck with him. He sighed, but he did as he was told, and you really fucking liked it, actually.

Once he was on the table you draped him, making sure he was comfortable. You rubbed your hands together to make them warm, then poured some cooking oil – the best substitute you’d found so far even if it did make the residents of Jackson smell like fried chicken – into your hands.

‘This might be cold, I’m sorry,’ you warned, and Joel grunted. You were glad he was face down so you didn’t have to see the expression on his face.

You started with his left leg, draping the towel over his hip and tucking it between his thighs. Straight away you could feel the tension there, the tightness of the calf, the hamstring ready to snap. You ran your hands in a vee-shape, thumbs tucked one over the other, up the back of his leg, stopping just below his glute, which you briefly considered leaning over and sinking your teeth into.

Joel’s skin was soft, and unbelievably hot to the touch, and you had to try hard to focus on what your hands were doing so that you could ignore the little whimpers, the little gasps, as you found and massaged away a knot. You ran your hands up the outside of his thighs, felt the muscles jump and tremor under you, dug your fingers into his hip flexors and heard him exhale, an almost sigh, as they released.

You got into trouble when you got to his back. You were aware of the fact that you were soaking your panties, worried that he would smell your arousal, worried that if he kept making noises like that you were going to drown yourself. You worked hard to keep your breath steady, remembered your lessons and imagined dousing yourself in freezing cold water, jumping from your back porch into the frozen lake below Jackson, hoping that might give you some relief.

The wide planes of his skin were marred by scars, by shadows of pain and hurt and memory. He carried a scar, an old one, on his right side, a graze that looked like a bullet, that you decided to ignore. As you pushed hard along his spine he grunted, the muscle seizing under your touch, and you worked against it, kneading at them like dough, lifting the fascia and breaking it down, working the adhesions, until it was buttery and smooth. You focused on Joel’s breath, saw the way his chest expanded as he inhaled, felt the enormous man, so scary and so gruff, so mean and so soft on the inside, gradually give in to you. You felt him relax, the tension leaving his shoulders as you worked them, careful to release the deltoid, to ease off the trapezius now that you could finally get at it properly.

You were tempted to leave him there, relaxed for maybe the first time in years, but you roused him, rolled him onto his back, put a folded-up towel under his head and another over his eyes to protect them from the light. With his face covered you could take your inventory of him. The scar on his right side, jagged and angry and new, the reason he’d been favouring it finally clear to you. The soft smattering of chest hair leading down to a light trail on his pelvis. The towel covering him, but not enough to hide the fact that he was hard, that he had tried to tuck his cock into the waistband of his underwear but that it was too thick, too long to stay fully hidden.

You moved up to his head, to his salt and pepper hair, and carded your hands through it, lifting his head and holding it in your fingertips. You watched as his eyebrows knitted together again, unsure, but then releasing, his mouth dropping open, as you heard his breath, ragged, escaping through his teeth.

‘Let me take care of you, baby,’ you whispered to him, right above his ear, mimicking what he had said to you on the coffee table, what had made you instantly wet and aching. You gazed down his body at the way his cock jumped. ‘Let me take care of this body.’

You let your fingers dig in a little to his scalp, a quiet little moan escaping him, the covering over his eyes giving him a sense of privacy as you unravelled him. You wanted to lean down and suck his bottom lip into yours, wanted to climb on top of him and sink your pussy onto his Roman nose. Wanted to come on his face and his fingers, wanted him to splash his come onto your chest.

‘This body that protects us,’ you whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss on his forehead, on his cheek beneath the towel. Putting his head back down and moving to massage his left arm, lifting it by the wrist and rubbing your hands over his bicep and onto his chest. He glistened, the oil mixing with his sweat under the overhead light, and you couldn’t stop yourself, then, couldn’t help but to bend and place a kiss on his clavicle, licking up to nip at his neck. You felt him shiver, a soft whimper escaping with his breath. You moved your hand from his wrist to his palm, held his hand with yours.

‘This body that serves us all so well,’ you said. ‘Let me take care of this body.’

He gasped when you kissed his belly button, licking and nipping down his happy trail to where his cock was now straining hard against the towel. You pushed it away, taking his cock out of his underwear and pulling them down on his hips, so that you got your first proper look at him.

As you expected he was thick, the veins on the underside pulsing, straining against his want for you. The head was so red it was almost purple, and you wondered how long it had been since a woman touched him like this, since he’d been touched at all. His hand grasped yours, the other fisting the towel underneath him.

When you slipped him into your mouth, inviting him into you, he groaned, grunted obscenities flowing from him. His cock was hot on your tongue, salty as he dripped pre-come into your throat. You kept your eyes on his face, his still covered, as his stomach rippled and his body tremored underneath you. With your other hand you steadied him, reaching up and holding the shaft while you bobbed, sucking hard on the head. You took a second to breathe, leaving little kitten licks on his frenulum, feeling his free hand let go of the towel and grip you by the hair.

‘Fuck, baby’ he grunted, his hips thrusting, pumping up into the air.

‘So strong, Joel,’ you said, before reattaching your mouth to him. He threw his head back, and you considered the irony of him breaking the brand-new table he’d built just for you by coming so hard he splintered the wood beneath him. His body was quaking, his hips bucking up into your wet, warm mouth and it was everything you had dared imagine it would be, right down to his gasping encouragement, down to his needy little whimpers that turned into moans of outright pleasure, of the feeling hot and electric right down to his toes.

‘Jesus, you’re gonna make me…’ he gasped, and you looked up at him, the towel having fallen from his eyes and him staring down at you between his legs, his hand on the back of your neck gentle and guiding, supporting the muscles as you worked him. You kept your eyes on his and your mouth on his cock as he shook, hips rolling, rutting against your pumping hand.

You slipped him from your mouth. ‘Just let go, baby. I got you,’ you said, covering him again as he did just that, shooting ropes of hot salt and desire across your tongue, holding your hand, groaning at the relief of it, at the release, and in that moment you had him, in that moment he was yours, gasping for breath and so soft and languid, looking down his body at you in awe and in wanting, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat.

Taglist:

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@littlemisspascal

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

@daddy-dins-girl

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller

[isasapphicmess]

“Missy to spymaster doesn’t make sense”

“Missy was good, spymaster is bad, it doesn’t make sense , how did that happen? ”

Oh let’s delve into this

-missy’s redemption was never to do with being good or evil, she decided it was time to stand with the doctor, for the fun,for the chaos, to battle the loneliness of being a pretty much immortal being. Her previous selves did not get that cause they were younger. There’s also an entanglement of “if I’m like doctor,he’ll like me again”, years in that box waiting for the day they’ll be friends again.

-the lumiat is all the good in Missy magnified but there’s still the obsession, the manipulative nature , all surrounding the doctor. “Being on the ‘right’ side, the good I did can’t count for nothing or I wasted my time”. The lumiat is probably the most aware the master is ever gonna get about being in love with the doctor.

-the lumiat has a painful regeneration into the spymaster , spymaster can’t trust himself but still feels a loyalty to the doctor, where does he go ? Home of course. Then he finds out , the person that he thought he knew better than himself has had entires lives without him. The master is known as the doctors friend, ex and enemy but the truth is there might be people out there that knows the doctor better than he does. How dare the timelords lie? How dare the doctor be so much “more” than him? The millennia of inferiority, jealousy and attachment implodes. Spydocs dynamic is typical thoschei at their core “I fucking hate ur soul but I’m obsessed with you at the same time”.

-missy’s ‘redemption’ isn’t pointless tho, it shows the master is capable of siding with the doctor but after finding out they don’t truly know the doctor as intimately as they previously thought , they fall back into what’s comfortable , hating the fuck out of the doctor.

-spymaster also views morality as a disease (power of the doctor scripts I love you) ‘your afflicted by morality yaz, i blame her’ the master viewing morality as disease speaks to how they view their 2 last regens (missy, lumiat) and the self hatred that ultimately leads them to wanting to become the doctor. [chibnall I’m in ur walls for the stuff you cut out of POTD].

-why didn’t the master just regen into 13s image or pretend they are the doctor. BABES THEY ARE A DELUSIONAL OBSESSED EX. There’s no logic , they want to be as close to the doctor as they can. Also do you sincerely think the doctor would have stayed dead? The loser (affectionate) would have brought her back after 3 months.

#sorry had to share the thoschei thoughts #thoschei #doctor who #spymaster #missy #missy doctor who #spymaster doctor who #the master #the doctor #spydoc #the lumiat #twissy #big finish

[celaenaeiln]

I saw in a panel one time that when Dick revealed his identity to the other Fab Five, Batman happened to catch him right in the middle of it and confronted him about it

Though of course Dick stood his ground verbally, stating his trust in them after what they’ve been through.

You think that might’ve played into the long arc of Bruce and Dick having differences between them emerge as Dick grew older and more distant from being that chipper partner Bruce could have by his side?

The Titans (1999) Issue #42

The Titans love Dick's independence but Bruce hates it.

I think you're mostly right but I think it's not so much of differences as it is freedom and self-governing.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #134

The thing about Dick's robin, Dick has always been a little too good to just be Batman's sidekick. Too good at fighting, too good at detectiving, too good at being an equal, a partner.

Batman/Scarecrow Issue #1

He can read Bruce's mind like he's eating candy. He's used to Bruce letting him do whatever he wants, but now all of a sudden, Bruce is telling him what to do and what he can't do. It's getting on Dick's nerves that one second he had all the freedom in the world and now Bruce thinks he can't do what he's so used to.

Dick think Bruce's sudden distrust in him is because he thinks Dick can't keep up or that he's doubting his skills somehow. So he starts acting out. What he doesn't understand is Bruce isn't doubting his competence, he's being protective. After a decade Bruce has finally realized that it's too dangerous for a child to be going around doing the things he has been doing, so it's not a reflection of Dick's abilities, but increased self-awareness and responsibility that Bruce has gained.

And this is what causes the friction.

The resolution of Dick's earlier conflict is this-

Nightwing (1996) Issue #135

Dick is fully capable of holding his own, of solving his own mysteries, and fighting his own cases. But Bruce believes that because he's too young to be at that level. So Dick sets an ultimatum. While Dick was looking forward to it like a kid waiting for his 18th birthday, Bruce was counting down the days like Doomsday Clock, dreading the moment. At finally when it was time, he made his move first because it's easier to fault the other person always.

It's not their differences really that caused them to fall apart. Their difference is what caused Bruce to love him. He loved that Dick was such a joyful, energetic, and eager child. It fear that turned into protectiveness that turned into control which soured their later relationships.

While Dick may have been excited and ready about becoming his own hero, Bruce ruined the moment because he didn't want to let go. That's partly why I think their later years were so tumultuous. They both knew what was coming, they just had different ideas of it.

He was mad that Dick ran away the first time, so how do you think he's going to react with the knowledge that Dick is going to officially leave him? Hence the firing.

You know in hindsight, this is probably another reason why Bruce will forever hate the Titans. He probably thinks they're the reason Dick's turned away from him and he hates that.

#dick grayson #robin dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #cl paladin of nerd fandom65 asks #thanks for the ask! #titans as family #roy harper #arsenal

[tumbleweed-run]

Payback

Kinktober 2023 Temperature Play

“Shit.” You cursed nearly crawling backwards up the bed. 

Gale chuckled even as he clamped his knees around your hips to keep you in place. He kept up his work, trailing a rapidly melting chunk of ice around one of your nipples. Slowly, he worked it towards the other nipple, a cool rivet of water trailing down your stomach. You squirmed, not really to get away but rather an unconscious reaction. 

Gale was sitting across your hips and thighs, knees pressed into your hips to keep you in place. Your hands were gripping his thighs so tightly you knew he’d probably bruise, but Gale wasn’t complaining. He swirled the chunk around your other nipple, already hard, not touching it just yet. Then, feather-light, it skated across the tip. Same reaction: you swore, and your back arched, causing the rivulet of water to trail off your side. 

This time, almost immediately, Gale ducked down his head, pulling your taut nipple into his mouth. You whimpered, the warmth of his mouth feeling positively burning against your frozen skin. The burning sensation was just this side of painful, as was the feeling of the ice trailing back the way it had come. 

His tongue flicked over your nipple drawing another moan out of you, one that transformed into a cry as he wasted no time in drawing the ice across the other one. Your body wasn’t sure what it wanted to do: draw yourself up into the heat of Gale’s mouth or shy away from the ice. So instead you were left squirming beneath him finding no relief. 

“Having fun yet?” Gale teased as he pulled off of you with a pop. 

You didn’t have time to answer before he turned his attention back to the other side, repeating the same motions. This was payback, a punishment, torture… something. It was winter and maybe your hands were often cold. And maybe you took great delight in worming your frigid fingers beneath the collars or up the backs of Gale’s shirts. When he was focused on something, he startled, often yelping in a less than dignified manner. 

And maybe you spent a little too long laughing about it that you hadn’t noticed the promise of retaliation. After all, Gale was capable of easily conjuring up ice even in the warmth of your bedroom. 

Which was how you found yourself pinned beneath your wizard as he trailed ice across your skin. 

He was switching back and forth more quickly now, your moans drawn out into constant whimpers as he did. Perhaps worse than the constant temperature fluctuations against your nipples was how Gale was restraining you. In this position, you couldn’t find any relief against your aching core. Even your thighs were pinned together making you ever aware of growing wetness between them. 

You kept your fingers digging into the tops of his thighs. 

You hadn’t realized your eyes had fallen shut until he placed a kiss against your lids, lips slightly chilled from chasing after the ice. You blinked them open to see Gale watching you carefully, the entire ice chunk had melted. 

“Good?” He asked. 

You nodded, “I’d be better if someone were between my legs,” you said after a beat. 

Gale laughed, loudly, his head thrown back. You couldn’t help but smile. 

“I live to serve,” he said with a smirked. You shivered again. 

He readjusted himself so he was kneeling between your spread legs. Softly he pressed a kiss to your sternum before trailing several more kisses down to your naval. You gasped when he swirled his tongue into it, not having realized some of the melted water had pooled there. After a second he continued his trail downwards. 

You almost didn’t hear the incantation. Whining you tried to pull your legs together but Gale moved quicker, laying his forearms across your thighs, trapping them open. Even though you could feel the warm puff of air on your skin, it was a new ice chunk that pressed between your folds first. 

“Fuck,” you swore, hands flying down to thread through Gale’s hair. 

You cursed again when you realized he was holding the ice in his mouth. He rubbed it gently up and down, tracing a cold path from your entrance to your clit. He held it against your clit even as you cried out and writhed against him. The melt was running down and pooling onto the sheets beneath you but really you weren’t sure anymore what was water and what was arousal. 

The ice chunk was dropped from Gale’s mouth after a few more passes but when he pressed his mouth against you his tongue was still frigid. You whimpered louder, tugging at his hair, once against being denied the relief of warmth. 

You felt Gale huff, amused, against your core. 

He set to work licking and sucking at your clit, the temperature gradually rising. You tried tilting your hips up to encourage his movements, except every time you did the melt water would run down to your lower back. Unconsciously, you began rocking against him, fingers gripped in Gale’s hair, keeping him there. 

If anything his moans encouraged you. 

Unexpectedly, the (much smaller) ice chunk reappeared, one of Gale's hands guiding it into your entrance. You came without warning, violently. Thighs clamping unable to keep from riding against his tongue and fingers which continued pressing the ice further into you. 

Once your legs relaxed enough for Gale to move again, he sat up and leaned back over you. Fingers still tangled in his hair, you pulled him to you for a kiss. He returned the kiss happily, tongue stroking its way into your mouth much the way it had just been between your legs. 

Gale pressed his cock into you then, a low hiss spilling from his mouth. The ice was likely all gone, but the near frigid water that was pooling inside you hadn’t warmed completely yet. He wasn’t deterred. With the first thrust, you felt the water rush back out of you, displaced. 

Finally, you untangled your hands from his hair, moving them to grip his arms as he began thrusting into you. Your breasts bounced, nipples still hard ghosting against the warmth of Gale’s chest. Overwhelmed you whimpered, trying to pull him flush against you, but he wouldn’t allow it. You tried not to squirm, but eventually you did, body both trying to flee the sensation and pull it closer. 

Gale pulled out of you completely and sat back onto his knees. “You’re making this difficult,” he said. 

Before you could answer, before you could apologize, he grabbed your hips and flipped you. Before you could even think to do it yourself, Gale pulled your hips up until you were kneeling. Immediately, he was pressing back inside you. This new position was a relief, finally able to press most of your body against the mattress. 

“Good girl,” Gale rewarded as he was finally able to find a rhythm with his hips. 

Reaching down beneath you, your fingers found your clit. You almost cried at your luck, they were cold again. You couldn’t care now though, you could feel another orgasm building. Gale’s thrusts became sloppy, and his grip on your hips grew tighter. 

He got there first, spilling into you with a moan. You followed not far behind, cunt fluttering around his cock. 

“I have a warm bath ready,” Gale whispered a few minutes later as he laid over your bath, gently stroking your hair. 

#gale x reader #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #kinktober 2023 #temperature play #is this how magic works in dnd? no #do I care? also no #dm rolls plot device

[dandelionprints]

More Than Enough

(Tommy Shelby One Shot)

As some of you will know if you’ve seen any of my posts, I’ve not had any motivation to write and have really felt my inspiration dwindling on a daily basis. I had a little bit of that motivation come back to me this evening so I thought I’d use it to write this short one shot. It was quite hard to write as I feel like my self belief is at a low right now so I was questioning myself a lot when writing it but fuck it, I’ve finally completed a WIP after weeks of not writing, I hope you enjoy!

Day had slowly turned into night in what had felt like only a matter of minutes in your bedroom, the only light now coming from the fireplace and a lamp that was lit on your desk. The comfort of the fire warmed you as the air grew cold.

Piles of invitations were laid upon the wooden surface with various addresses to the wealthiest people within England and Scotland. This charity ball had better get you a lot of fucking money after all the time you’d put into it, not to mention the cramp that was now very apparent in your fingers.

“Come to bed love, it’s getting late”, Tommy whispered against your shoulder before moving the strap of your nightie to the side and gently laying a kiss on your bare skin.

“I will my love, I’ve just got a few…”, you began, getting cut off swiftly by an exasperated sigh from your husband that caught you off guard.

“Y/N, you’ve been at this for hours, you need to get some rest. I would also like to spend some time with my wife. Please, come to bed”

You turned to look at him standing there in just his boxer shorts, a look of pleading in his expression. Those eyes of blue almost boring right through you, making you melt like they had the first day you’d made contact with them.

You sighed feeling guilty, “I know, Tom. But if I don’t do it then who the fuck will? They’re meant to be delivered to everyone tomorrow and I feel like if they’re not perfect then I’ll be judged even more than I already am”

A wave of insecurity swept over you unexpectedly. Fuck you hated that feeling, never feeling like the life you’d married into was something you deserved. The money, the big house, the handsome gangster husband. None of it.

“Who do you think is judging you, the people invited?”, his eyebrow raised as he took a step toward you, kneeling at your side, “don’t take any notice of what they say, they’re all twats in expensive suits”

You nodded your head and averted his gaze, instead choosing to pick a spot on the floor to focus on.

“I know what they say, Tom. ‘What’s a girl like that doing with a man like him? A former peasant girl who used to have to beg for scraps on the street? She’s probably only with him for the money! Oh, and the maids too, they do everything for her’”

“Who have you heard say that? You tell me and I’ll send Arthur round to have a chat with them, no one talks about my wife like that!”

He stood with his fists balled at his sides, his knuckles white from the tension. Grabbing his arm you pulled yourself up and squeezed him gently, his muscles tight under your grip.

“No! Please don’t, it’s not a big deal”, you used your free hand to bring his face towards yours, “All I’m saying is I’m well aware that they don’t think highly of me. I just want to show them I’m no longer that peasant girl who had to beg for food and money, that I’m capable of organising a charity event and doing as much for it on my own as I can without the help of staff or other influences. I want them to know I work hard, Tom”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time you’d been speaking, too fixated on every word you were saying. He brought his hands up to either side of your face and cupped your cheeks.

“You work harder than any of those fuckers that are invited, the only reason they’re on the guest list is cause they have money, and lots of it. They don’t have a clue what shit you went through to end up on the streets or how we met, which if I remember rightly wasn’t when you were still having to sleep in the gutters. They don’t know fuck all about anything, none of them do”, he said, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

Bringing your hands up you held onto either one of his wrists, your thumb on the back of his hand.

“I know love, I just want to show I’m enough. Enough to be deserving of this life we’ve built. Enough to be with you when there are so many other beautiful women out there who would drop their knickers for you with just a snap of your fingers”

He chuckled then before his expression turned soft, moving his face closer to yours, hands still cupping your cheeks.

“Darling, you’re more than enough. You always have been”

His lips connected with yours in a soft swoop, holding themselves there for a while before curving up into a smile.

You smiled back feeling a rush of warmth in your chest, the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach making themselves known.

“Now c’mon, bed”

This time you didn’t have a choice in the matter as he swiftly swept you up into his arms and carried you towards the bed. You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the signature smell of whiskey and cigarettes moving to your nose.

Placing you down onto the bed he knelt over you and kissed you again, this time with more passion.

“I think it’s time I show you just how wrong those people are, how it’s really me who is unworthy to be with you, Mrs. Shelby”

The firelight continued to flicker, casting shadows around the room, the plans of finishing the invitations now well and truly gone.

Right here in this very moment, in your big expensive house, on the expensive Egyptian cotton bedding beneath you on your expensive four poster bed, the only thing that mattered was that the love of your life truly believed that you had always been enough, no matter what.

————

Tagged: @peakypoet @moral-terpitude @lyarr24 @cillmequick @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @alasya16 @tommystargirl @elenavampire21 @adaydreamaway08 @slaypussypop-21 (unable to tag) @bluesongbird @zablife @cljordan-imperium @look-at-the-soul @rangerelik

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #cillian murphy

[stardustluvs]

Pegging - GeorgeNotFound X Reader

MDNI || KINKTOBER

Word Count: 830

Pairing: George x fem!Reader

Summary: George wants to change up your bedroom routine, and you can't say it's a horrible idea...

Warnings: NSFW, Pegging (obviously)

Author’s Note: Kinktober continues to go strong!

Requests are open! || masterlist || kinktober m.list

It was a bit of a surprise to you when he brought it up honestly. You and your boyfriend had been going out for some time now, so the topic of sex was not something new. However, when George mentioned he'd like to try something new, you would have never guessed it would result in going sex toy shopping for a strap on.

Not to say you weren't absolutely excited, but you were still just kind of taken aback by the request, and who were you to deny it when he seemed like it was on his mind for a while now. Honestly, you were probably just as excited as he was.

You let him pick out the strap on and everything, just to give him more control over the situation, which he did so happily.

It started the way most of your intimate moments started, the only difference being who was "in charge."

You straddled his lap as you pushed him back against the bed.

It started the same way most of your intimate moments started, lots of kissing and small touches to each other. Clinging to each other and wanting to be in each other's space. Honestly you adored it.

Clothes had been discarded to the floor forever ago, without a care in the world. As you kissed his lips, your hand found it's way down, your finger beginning to tease his hole, causing him to whine a little at the sudden attention.

His hips jerked a little as your other hand grabbed his thigh while your finger continued to press against him. You grabbed the lube from beside the bed and used a generous amount of it, your finger starting to slide into him easily. You went slow, allowing him plenty of time to adjust.

You started to fuck him with just a single finger, loving the way it got him riled up already, and you'd barely done anything to him.

When you introduced a second finger, you thought he was gonna cum right then and there. Your fingers scissored him open, hardly reaching where he wanted it most.

By the time you entered a third finger, thrusting them in and out of him, he was already a babbling mess.

You pulled your hand away from him, causing him to whine loudly at the loss of pleasure.

"Calm down, baby, I've got something so much better for you," You reminded him.

You got off the bed momentarily to put on the strap-on.

It looked a lot bigger when it was actually on you, George thought so, anyway.

"Mm, please, fuck me," He begged at just the mere sight of you. You smirked as you lubed up the toy, lining yourself up with him.

"You're gonna be so good for me, hm?" You asked him, as you began to push into him slowly.

His noises became much higher pitched as you entered him.

"Ngh- Gonna be so good for you..." He whimpered.

You stopped to let him adjust when you finally bottomed out, waiting for him to give you an okay.

When he nodded his head at you, you began to rock your hips into him. Every small movement tore a noise from his throat. Some of them, you weren't even aware he was capable of making.

You mumbled out praises as you started to speed up, telling him how good of a job he's doing, taking all of you in.

"Faster, please, fuck, need it so bad," He begged, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

If only you could take a picture of him like this, to remember this moment for forever.

You gave in to what he begged of you, how could you not?

You sped up, eventually finding his prostate.

"Fuck- Ah, there! Ohmygod-" He cried, being so overwhelmed and over taken by his pleasure. You could tell he was getting close.

His hand moved to his dick, beginning to stroke himself at the same pace as your thrusts. His head tilted back into the mattress as his eyes were squeezed shut. He had become so entirely lost in his pleasure and you loved being able to watch it overtake his body.

"Come on, baby, come for me," You tell him, continuing to fuck into him at that same fast pace.

Any words that attempted to leave his mouth never came out correctly. They were just strewn out words and sentences, never making any sense.

He finally came when you hit that spot inside of him just right. Spurts of cum fell over his hand and onto his stomach. You slowed down, fucking him through his high before pulling out of him.

His breathing slowly returned to normal as you took the strap-on off, getting comfortable enough to cuddle into him.

"So?" You asked him.

"So, I wish we would have done that sooner," He said, offering a tired laugh.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, watching as he drifted off to sleep.

#dream smp #dream smp smut #georgenotfound #georgenotfound smut #gnf #gnf smut #gnf x reader #gnf x reader smut #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound x reader smut #dsmp #dsmp x reader #dsmp smut #kinktober #mcyt #mcyt smut #mcyt x reader #mcyt x reader smut

[this-is-fox-speaking]

FANTOCCIO FACTS POST (from screenshots i found in my own interests server)

- His name is italian for puppet, but he pronounces it incorrectly and insists it’s the correct way to say his name if anyone else points it out and says he’s wrong.

- He’s not from Italy, obviously. Goes to show. But Ash imagines he knows a bit of italian. (“Not enough Italian to say his name right.” - Katie.)

- Fantoccio has a pet shark named Sharkspeare! Mentioned in the song at the line “‘Cause Sharkspeare’s looking mean!”

- Fantoccio has to make all his own props, set pieces, clothes, etc in the theatre.

- Would never smoke, and would hate being around it/people who’re doing it actively.

- Fantoccio was made by Ash as a fan OC for the game, and this (as far as I’m aware) is what got them hired onto the game, cause Katie loved their ideas so much.

- Fantoccio is not very good with kids.

- Fantoccio’s favorite food is churros. This came from the fact Ash once had a dream about him infodumping about them cause he loved them so much, so they made it canon.

- Don’t worry, he can indeed taste things normally. No traditional taste buds, but some, nonetheless. Same goes for touch!

- Fantoccio is canonically autistic, having many traits of himself heavily projected from Ash, themself.

- When asked what his meltdown triggers could be, Ash thought that some might be: too much touching, being without his hat, or one of his props breaking.

- Fantoccio likes wearing dresses! Wears them if he feels like it or if the role calls for it, during a play.

- Ash thinks he’d ADORE snow.

- Fantoccio would 100% love spicy italian from subway.

- Fantoccio plays violin!

- Fantoccio would chant “I’m sleeping” when struggling to fall asleep, like his own version of counting sheep.

- He would NEVER say the Earth is flat.

- He’d be the “How do you do that” of that one keysmash meme, if paired with Barnaby.

- Ash once said that Fantoccio is like Duck from Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared.

- When doing a personality type test (and actually answering truthfully instead of in character) for Fantoccio, he ended up with ENTJ-T, Commander. Fanto would answer untruthfully on some questions, like if he ever gets insecure (“PFFFT NO THE ANSWERS NO”).

- He can go uwu in the bbu lore, but he’ll hate it. (“THIS IS STUPID!!!”)

- Fantoccio would apparently be a “mac and cheese FIEND.”

- He’d hate pranks (specifically a hand zapper in this case), because they’re unexpected. (“NEVER DO THAT AGAIN”)

- This also means he’d never troll anyone, cause he feels above that.

- Fanto would HATE hearing people crack their knuckles, like Ash does.

- Fantoccio loves to carve wood. Specifically only by hand, that’s how much he loves it! He carved the two giant wooden hands used in his battle, but his favorite thing to carve is ducks.

- Fantoccio is very intent on ONLY eating the few foods he knows he likes.

- If he were an ice cream, he’d be coffee flavor! Which is ironic, because Ash has also said that it’d probably be terrible to give Fantoccio caffeine.

- Fantoccio would LOVE chicken nuggets.

- Hates pizza, though. Too greasy and messy.

- Would enjoy having an ipad “a little too much. He would be super confused at first but once he learns how to use it DO NOT TAKE IT AWAY”. (kinda like Peridot from Steven Universe)

- He would like spruce wood in Minecraft, but also acacia “just to look at.”

- Ash adores pirates, so so does Fantoccio!

- He has no nose, so no sneezes!

- Appreciates detail as much as Barnaby does.

- Fanto would love birds!

- Fanto is not capable of curse words. Sad.

- Fantoccio would COLLAPSE trying to lift someone without his powers.

- He stims by patting his face and spinning around. Fidgets with his hands in concepts for his standing idle animations, because he’s uncomfortable with standing and prefers floating.

- He’d favor Murder Mystery!

- His wood is alive and can grow like a real boy! (if you’ve seen my post being reblogged around, lol)

- He lives in the lost city of magic, which is abandoned and overrun my magical zombies who used to be magic users, now with a terrible curse. So he lives mainly in his theatre. He’s not trapped, anymore, like his old story!

- Fantoccio’s powers are based around telekinesis and teleportation. It’s how he moves his body around!

- He used to have a plush toy rabbit he carried around, when he was younger, seemingly. It’s unclear where that went, when he got older.

- Fantoccio’s been locked up in this city for 15 years, since he was 8. Completely isolated (save for those zombies, I suppose)! When Billie comes along, though, he’s so excited to have something new to play with!

- Fanto’s song is inspired by Weird Al. Like 90% of this game is, of course /lh. He was also inspired by the pied piper!

- He’d dislike the idea of seafood. (“He’d be like “Why would anyone want to eat a fish?!” And cover Sharkspeare’s nonexistent ears like “Don’t listen to them!””)

- The red feather in his hat is also used as a pen!

- Fantoccio is a being of pure magic, having an entire magic gem be his whole life source. This means he can use magic endlessly without getting tired (I believe)!

- Fantoccio is 23, he/him, and pansexual.

- His face is made using magic. It disappears when/if he’s magic-less.

- Fantoccio can absolutely feel pain.

- When it comes to nature, Ash said he’d kinda be like Rarity from MLP:FiM, but certain kinds of nature he’d still really love. He’d really dislike walking through the wild or camping in general, but loves things like snow or flower fields. Just depends!

- Fantoccio would main Bowser in Mario Kart.

-In terms of favorite Halloween treats, Fantoccio would like anything chewy and fruity (no chocolate)!

- Canonically wears eyeliner.

- Magic sparks from his fingertips when he’s very excited!

- If Fantoccio was an animal, Ash says he’d be a cat.

- No traditional gross human stuff inside him like others, just wood and sap. “Whatever trees do.”

- His original concept by Ash was him having a purple phantom head, being a ghost in a puppet’s body. This was changed by Katie, I believe.

(feel free to add on if I missed anything! i’ll edit this post if i randomly remember something)

#bbu facts #so ppl can block the long posts coming up in main #billie bust up #bbu fantoccio #EDIT: FOR SOME REASON THIS GOT AUTO LABELED OR SMTHN AS MATURE?? #FIXED IT NOW BUT THAT WAS WEIRD

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Okay let’s talk about Murder Drones.

SPOILERS FOR EP 7 LIKE A LOT LIKE ALL OF IT. MURDER DRONES SPOILERS HERE

Let’s start with the stuff I was right about.

Damn you tumblr and your limited image count

Tessa is Cyn/Absolute Solver:

I should not have been as happy about that scene as I was but I felt vindicated. Amongst my friend group everyone was thinking Tessa was the last human or working with Cyn/AS. Not me! I knew that little freak was in there and I’m so happy I was right. I also noticed that when Tessa is scanned she is never registered as a human.

(In order: Doll, Uzi, The Sentinel)

Also she is just dismissive and rude to her supposed “friends”. She tells Uzi not to date “her robot”, blindly thought V and N would just follow her despite the “company” stranding them and of course orders J to mind her ship. Not to mention telling Uzi to wait in the box while her and N take care of everything else.

Someone else mentioned that Tessa despite being way older now should be as tall as her mother was but yet she is still the same height as N and can lift him. Disassembly Bots are a lot heavier than Worker Drones.

Edit: Tessa also understands Doll. It makes sense of the Drones too but Tessa (possibly American with a British accent cause her parents are posh posers) Elliot probably doesn’t know Russian.

Cyn made the Disassembly Drones:

Nori straight up confirms this so not surprised. Ep5 showed Cyn/AS was capable of resetting them in the mansion. Also in the first episode when N is restarted first by Uzi and then J, it showed that the system admin is Cyn and not JCJensen. We see it briefly in Ep5 before Uzi becomes the System Admin. This is also shown when Cyn/AS tries to reboot N by bringing back his memories but can’t.

This also leads me to think that their memories are erased from planet to planet. We know that there are plenty of disassembly bots but only J, N and V remain. I do think it would be a stretch to say that every bot is just a clone of these three. My point is, they have destroyed other planets. J and N may not be as aware as V is but this has taken a toll on all of them. My main reasoning behind this is that in N’s flashback we see a world about to be destroyed. Drones and humans are being slaughtered. I think Cyn/AS sends bots to the world and when the world implodes she just reboots them to a new server body. We know that “effective drones were cloned more”. Makes V statement more accurate, Cyn/AS will keep doing the same horrors in as many bodies as she needs to get what she wants.

Onto the other stuff now.

Absolute Solver = Vampirism

The disassembly drones have always had the allusion to vampires (N sleeps upside down, can’t be in the sun, need for oil, etc). I didnt think it would take a somewhat literal aspect. So we know that Absolute Solver program can create organic material but we didn’t question the how. When I posted yesterday about the oil vs “not oil”, after rewatching it on my TV I can confidently say, It’s not oil. It’s blood.

So Solver needs blood to make organic material which is why Solver infected bots can bleed. Something we kinda knew when N regrew his head and Alice dissecting Disassembly Drones. And you know, Solver straight up saying “Let’s eat!”.

Which explains why Cyn/AS took over Tessa. A self sufficient, self-feeding, suit that would keep her safe on Cooper 9. Also to access the database to get the list of infected drones.

Edit: I forgot to mention that Cyn/AS literally eats Doll’s core. Her HEART.

I also meant that AS infected Drones and Disassembly Drones don’t ONLY need Oil. They (Uzi, N, V, J, Doll, Cyn/AS) need and/or consum both.

There is no saving Cyn

Yeah she’s gone. At this point the only thing keeping Cyn alive would be the Solver, if she she is alive. The fact that all of Solver’s admin goes in between absolutesolver_ and _cyn means that they are one and the same by now. Not really a theory just something I’ve been thinking on.

Uzi and N

He is so lame your honor I love him. I truly believe they’ve been “dating” since post-prom. Dating in a way that neither of them realized was dating. EP6 would have been the most definitive showing of that. I also believe V knew and said nothing.

These fucking losers I love them so much:

Thanks to Khan saying Uzi’s interest include “cannibalism and Nightcore”, it’s fair to assume Nori was still eating people/oil before she got “killed”.

#murder drones spoilers #murder drones glitch #murder drones #glitch murder drones #murder drones ep 7 #liam vickers animation #uzi doorman #serial designation n #serial designation v murder drones #nori doorman #khan doorman #murder drones lizzy #murder drones thad #cyn murder drones #absolute solver #doll murder drones #tessa james elliot #tessa murder drones #serial designation j #therabbitrambles

[imaginespazzi]

Part 4: The Art of Letting Go

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

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.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb