#then this whole move has been for little to nothing

[r3starttt]

YOUR WOMAN

☆ lawyer! Abby

cw: dom-top! abby. sub! reader. thigh riding. spanking. good girl-princess-angel.

Abby was beyond exhausted. This whole week had been full of dumb people bothering her and her current clients - a married couple, because there were papers missing or formalities unfinished.

And no matter what she did, there was always something wrong, and having the patience she has, whenever she was awake her humor was horrible, which lead to her keeping distance with you. Whenever she tried to sleep, she couldn't, and it was torture to see your clearly hurt expression or having the most stressful nightmares whenever she could finally close her eyes.

She'd proposed to spend the whole weekend with you, but of course she couldn't get what she wanted, ever.

Starting with her being awake early in the morning by the stress and all the caffeine she consumed a day before making effect on her body, still. Then, her clients panicking over another important paper deal that apparently had to do with her. She couldn't even have a proper breakfast, not even sit next to you and at least watch you eat and hear you talk about your week. Nothing.

So when the sunlight started to fade, you felt like a blessing appeared. Forgetting about how much you've needed her the whole week, you needed her to have a rest, to distract her mind a little. And what's better than you both getting what you much need in a little time? She sure can get some minutes for this.

So, with only one of her t shirts you innocently walked outside her office, around thousands of times before she noticed you. Or so you thought since you heard that pretty laugh she has. The one that she uses for mocking you, such a pleasure.

"Come here" she looked tired, and it made you regret your plan, just for a couple seconds before you saw the veins on her hands shine just perfectly when she patted on her lap for you to come sit on her.

"What're you doing? Mhm?" You placed your legs intertwined with hers, making yourself comfortable in the small chair she had been working at all day. Hesitating a little, you responded "nothing?"

"Oh, sure we're doing nothing?" Her fingers trailed a small path along the sides of your thighs, rolling the hem of your shirt up your hips. You, on the other hand, let your weight rest fully on her, positioning the palms of your hands on top of her shoulders to keep you in place.

"I'm pretty sure we do" your fingers grabbed the sides of her glasses gently, taking them off. While placing them on top of the wooden desk, you took a glance at the screen, almost darkening at how long it had been since she paid attention to it.

As much as you desired her, you couldn't dare to keep her busy from work, which didn't seem like the occasion.

Her usual braid was messy, with some locks of her hair dancing above her cheeks. You moved them behind her ears, tracing a path down her neck which was lately followed by your lips letting open mouthed kisses along it.

The pressure growing in between your legs grew at each move you or her did. Her leg bouncing felt like hell, and you couldn't help but rub yourself on her. You could feel her grinding, her hands leading your ass as she pleased.

Your last sight was her eyes closing, previously for you. Her mouth opening very slightly as the feeling of your saliva sent shivers to her whole body.

The grip on your lower back got tighter, lowering till her hands were fully grasping at your ass, trying to prevent you from moving. You only kept on fighting her. "Don't" she hissed.

You laughed in between kisses, ending in her clavicle connected to your lips by a small trail of saliva. Your hips kept on grinding on her lap, and by how her leg also kept bouncing you thought she was just fine with it, she wasn't.

"Fuck it, stop" her voice sounded too overwhelmed for you to take it serious, until she made you take it seriously. "Stop it, stay".

You whined at it, annoyed by all her restrictions even when she was the one that needed a hard fuck this time. You hate- despised that stubborn side of her, the one that kept you under her control all the time, because what else could you want on days like this than just please her and make her cum all over you, make her take a proper break. Fuck her.

You were ready to just sit on her lap, have a quick make out session and leave her alone, but that's not what she meant, and you knew it.

"Don't act like that" her thumb slided outside your lips, down your chin. "You wanted my attention, so bad? Then fucking take it"

Your tongue slid out your lips, making space for her fingers. Her hand pulled you closer to her, pressing her lips against you in such messy kiss. Drool all over your faces.

She'd laugh in between kisses, pressing you closer by holding the back of your head and practically lead you to where she wanted, how she wanted.

She could feel- see the damp spot on her pants, growing every time she groaned in your mouth, whined at you deliciously you'd tuck at her braid. She couldn't wait any longer either.

Her hands pressed on your chest, pushing you enough for her to have space to speak. "You're gonna take my pants off" she murmured, her nose dancing closely to yours "and you're gonna ride 'em"

You stupidly nodded, standing on your feet again, taking your time to get rid of her belt and- god, such gorgeous view. The warm light of her office lightening her legs, her thighs, her stomach showing once you made a mess of her and her blouse. "Sit"

You did as you were told, sitting as you were in the very first beginning. "You think you can get yourself off?" Her hands kept you in place, not even letting you realize what was happening. You just nodded, letting her manhandle you as she wished.

"Good" you heard her husky voice, her hands making circles along the fat of your ass, leading you up her thigh, then down her knee. You let out small whimpers, already pooling her whole leg, clenching at the emptiness. "Good girl"

Every time your clit rubbed against her skin- there was such an obscene sound, wet, loud. Abby couldn't help but widen her smile, you looked so inviting, so pretty, just for her. Smile that vacuumed out of her face the moment you, cautionary, tried to increase the speed.

Her hand moved off your ass, slapping it just a few seconds later. You felt your legs shake at it, such delicious pleasure with a mix of pain starting to mix just right near your cunt. "So wet mhm? Like it when I do that?" She mocked.

"Making a mess on me" her lips pressed over your clavicle, leaving tender kisses along it. Your lips kept right next to her ear, giving her the privilege of hearing your agitated breathing, your whines and pleads over and over again.

There was a knot of pleasure appearing on your stomach, her hands, her words, her smell, her everything was making you insane. The feeling of her bare legs somehow hitting your clit and arousal just perfectly, as if your bodies were made to fit with each other. You knew you wouldn't last long.

The plush of your thighs got harshly gripped by her fingers. "I know baby, I know" You replied equally, holding yourself with the help of your hands on her neck, now being lead to a much satisfying and fast speed than before. "C'mon"

"It's okay angel, yeah, yeah" Abby mumbled as she felt your body filling on top of her. She felt the wetness on her thigh increasing more and more, you could only thank her for it. "Ride it out, just like that"

"Fuck- abby" You let out breathlessly, your voice sloghtly acute. Her hands moved to your back, holding you in place. You looked fucking gorgeous. "Such a good girl f' me princess. Did so good f' me" your ears got covered in a wave of compliments, how you've done so good, how pretty you looked, all followed by kisses on your temple, circles on your back. God she was fucking sweet.

"Come here" you shifter your gaze upwards, meeting her eyes, so shiny and full of adoration. "Kiss" your lips pressed on hers, not caring about your still pretty evident exhaustion or the mess you've done.

"Do me a favor" she mumbled, giving you a short kiss after. You replied with a quiet 'yeah?'.

"Lick my thigh clean, can you?" a sheepish smile adorned your face, rolling your eyes yet doing as she asked you to, a favor, right?

Your feet stepped the cold floor, slowly getting on your knees. Leaning your head closer to her thigh, you stick out your tongue, taking a taste of the mess you've done on her. Your eyes never left hers.

Her fingers trailed the path of your cheek bones, as if she was still guiding you through it.

Your hands travelled to the sides of her legs, stopped by her own hands once she realized what you were trying to do. "Nuh uh, go get clean and take a nap" your tongue got back to its place, leaving one last kiss on her thigh. You weren't planing on fighting with her.

"Good" You stood up, giving her a last glance, taking note of how she looked even when half of her wasn't an unusual view for you. "Promise I'll finish... all this" her hand signaled to her screen, clearly still a bit stressed by her work. "Then I'll be with you, doing whatever you want, yeah?" You simply smiled at her, trying to let abby know she could always take her time. You'd wait an eternity for her if necessary.

"How's that sound then?" You humorously rolled your eyes "perfect" her hands opened one more time, making space for you. You followed her, feeling her hands embrace you.

"Thanks" she murmured, her voice muffled but her face being so close to your stomach. You laughed, completely enamored by her, your hands caressing her hair. "I better get what I want later"

Abby pushed you away gently, laughing back and nodding at your request. "Go" You turned around, getting to feel her hands one last time, on your ass, so sweet of her, right?

#abby x y/n #abby fanfiction #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby smut #abby x reader smut #abby x black reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x black reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader

[ellecdc]

Hello I’m new here (tumblr) and idk if I’m doing this right but hi!

Your fics first came up with regulus and moon water so I’ve been binge reading your fics :), I was wondering if you would write Sirius x reader?

Where like Sirius is like head over heels for reader and it’s just him talking to the marauders about her because she’s like on prefect duties so he misses her.

If not that’s fine.

hahaha lovesick Siri is my kryptonite - thanks for your request; here's a cute little baby blurb <3

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

lovesick!Sirius Black x fem!reader who's on prefect rounds and he's upset about it

“So….why exactly is Padfoot pouting right now?” Peter asked cautiously as he shed off his bookbag and sat down to watch James and Remus’ game of wizard chess as Sirius hung upside down from a grandfather chair looking awfully contemplative. 

“His bird ditched him for some other bloke.” James muttered without raising his head.

Sirius scoffed dramatically and shot James what was probably supposed to be a withering glare, but was significantly diminished from his current upside-downness. 

“First of all, do not call my darling girl a bird. Second of all, she did not ditch me for another man, she has prefect rounds with Regulus.”

“The better of the Black brothers; good for her.” Remus commented; dodging a throw pillow lobbed at him from Sirius without moving his attention from the board. 

“What? You think you’re going to die if she’s not here to stroke your ego, Pads?” James asked teasingly.

“I might.” Sirius responded earnestly.

The other three Marauders groaned.

“You’re all just jealous you don’t know what it’s like to be in love.” Sirius accused as he repositioned himself upright in the chair.

Remus and James both turned to give him unimpressed glares.

“You’re nearly as bad as Prongs now.” Peter muttered, earning him indignant “oi!”’s from both James and Sirius.

“I can’t help it if she’s the best thing to ever happen to me, Wormy.” Sirius pouted.

“I am sitting right here.” James grumbled. 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re a close second, Prongs.”

“She can’t be that great if she willingly puts up with you.” Remus commented, causing Sirius to launch himself out of the grandfather chair and onto Remus’ back.

“You take that back right now! My girl is the sweetest, most angelic, lovely person in the whole wide world and we’re all better for it.”

“Oh my gods, okay, okay. Merlin’s tits you’re wild.” Remus muttered as he bodily shoved Sirius off of his person.

“I can’t believe she puts up with you if this is what you’re like around her.” Peter commented, earning him a laugh from James.

“Oh, you should see it, Worms. She reduces him to nothing but a soppy lovesick smile whenever she’s around; no more feral Pads, he’s right docile with her.”

Sirius stared between his three friends with his mouth hanging open, face painted in a look of pure betrayal.

“See, this is why I spend so much time with her; she’d never treat me like this.”

“And yet, here you are.” Remus taunted.

Sirius stood quickly as he scoffed derisively. “Fine. I’m going to go hang out with her; at least then I’ll know I’m wanted.”

No one said anything as Sirius dramatically stormed out of the portrait hole and the Gryffindor common room once again returned to its appropriate volume.

“His logic is flawed if he thinks Regulus wants him anywhere near them during their rounds.” Peter commented, causing James to groan.

“Reg’s gonna hex him into oblivion if he disrupts their prefect duties again.” The Headboy groaned.

Remus let out a long suffering sigh as he stood from his long since abandoned chess game and made for the portrait hole.“I’ll go play interference…again.”

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #sirius black drabble #sirius black blurb #sirius black ficlet #ellecdc fics

[imaginespazzi]

Part 5: One Perfect Day

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

Let me photograph you in this light (in case it is the last time that we might be exactly like we were)

(In which a procrastinating writer procrastinates giving her ship happiness)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Some Fluff

Words: 7.5K

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. As many of you have reminded me it is indeed Friday and so here we are, nobody needs to yell at me! I know I'm years too late with this but I hope y'all like it anyways, even though this is very much mainly hurt with very little comfort. But for things to get better, they have to get worse and remember, it's all for the plot! There's plenty of creative liberty taken this chapter with how hotels and post-championship celebrations work and other logistics but I wrote it how I needed to so just go with it. Did I edit? Yes. Are there typos and errors anyway? Probably. As always, tell me what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful weekend lovelies!!

March 2019 

The final buzzer echoes through the Williams Arena, and the disappointment of the last couple of years is finally drowned out as the Hopkins Royals win the state championship. Surrounded by the cheers of her teammates, Paige doesn’t know if she’d call this the happiest moment of her life, the stomach flu symptoms haven’t quite faded yet, but she knows it’s definitely on her mount rushmore of times when life was great. 

For a second, as she’d been crouched over the toilet with Azzi’s hands soothingly rubbing her back, feeling her soul leave with the remnants of last night's dinner, Paige had almost lost hope. But she’d never been taught to give up without a fight. And so it hadn’t mattered that she definitely looked a little green or that standing up was taking twice the energy it normally did, Paige was going to play today. It hadn’t been a flashy scoring night but she’d done everything else her team needed. And as that lead had built and built and built, Paige knew, the moment was still hers. 

“Paigeyyyyy,” Drew is the first one to find her after her and her teammates break apart, launching his tiny body into her legs, “you won!”

Paige laughs, lifting her brother into her arms and spinning him around, “I told you I was gonna didn’t I?”

One by one, her whole family, the epitome of a modern family, pull her into hugs and then they gather into one large group hug, with Paige at the centre of it all. Her siblings look at her with pure admiration while her parent’s eyes are filled with pride. And it fulfils that part of Paige that has always lived a little more for her family than for herself. 

As her family moves away slowly, Paige finds herself face to face with Azzi’s shining smile and her heart skips a beat. And she doesn’t really know when it started or even how really, but it gets a little more difficult every time she sees Azzi, for Paige to convince herself that that fluttering in her chest is nothing. 

“You look a little pale white girl,” Azzi teases, taking a couple of steps towards the blonde, “glad you didn’t vomit all over the floor.”

“Nah no bullshit flu is stopping Paige Bueckers. The flu is scared of me,” Paige juts out her chest with a smirk, earning her a patented eye roll from the younger girl. 

“Oh yeah, you’re real scary,” Azzi indulges before pulling Paige into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m proud of you P.”

Paige smiles into the crook of Azzi’s neck, basking in the glow of the compliment. It’s these little moments they have in between their constant banter, where they let themselves be each other’s biggest cheerleaders, that makes them Paige and Azzi. They pull away, still grinning. and Paige’s eyes roam over the Team Paige jersey framing Azzi’s body. It makes her feel some type of way to see the younger girl wearing her name across her chest, but it’s not a feeling Paige is quite ready to accept. Perhaps it’s been written in their destiny that someday things will change, that eventually they’ll both have to confront the something more that’s simmering underneath it all, but for now, Paige just wants to protect what they already have. 

“That’s a pretty jersey,” she says with a wink, fingers rushing over the soft material. 

“I was forced at gunpoint to wear it,” Azzi sighs dramatically, “I was actually cheering for Stillwater. Their pg’s kinda cute.”

Paige bristles at the comment, the queasiness from this morning returning with vengeance, “she’s mid as hell on and off the court.”

“Don’t be petty Paige. You think she’d let me wear her jersey instead?” 

“You know what,” Paige fights a losing battle with the quick surge of anger that’s taking birth in her stomach, “how about you take off my winner’s jersey and go to the loser’s locker room and beg for her jersey instead.”

She knows Azzi’s joking, knows the point guard on the other team isn’t even really Azzi’s type, knows that even if Azzi’s being serious, Paige doesn’t have a right to feel this way. But that green eyed monster is clawing at her heart, squeezing it and making it hard to breathe. 

“Oh- hey hey hey,” Azzi’s quick to grab at her when Paige tries to storm off, “chill dude. You know I’m just kidding.”

“Well it wasn’t funny,” Paige pouts, aware that she’s being unnecessarily childish. 

Azzi opens her mouth, about to make some smartass quip but there must be something about how genuinely frustrated Paige looks that softens her expression, “I came to watch you P. I have no idea what that other girl was doing. I was cheering for you the whole time.”

“You’re so sappy,” Paige snorts, throwing a handful of confetti at Azzi, but inside, the ice cold jealousy melts into something warm and lovely, spreading through her heart into her veins. 

“Can’t even say nice shit without you being a dick about it,” Azzi rolls her eyes, as she links her arms through Paige’s,  “now come on, let’s go celebrate you.”

***

It’s almost 2 a.m. when Paige’s teammates finally begin to filter out of her house, leaving with droopy eyes and tired smiles. She and Azzi stand in the doorway, waving goodbye to every last one of them and it feels a little domestic, like a couple after a dinner party. Paige shakes that thought away the minute it begins to form, forcing herself to ignore the burst of wouldn’t that be lovely that blooms in her chest.

“What if I just fell asleep here?” Paige sags against the doorframe. 

“You’d probably fall flat on your face and I’d get an epic video of it.”

“You’re so fucking mean to me.”

“Oh yeah right because you’re so nice to me.”

“Am to,” Paige retorts, before she makes grabby hands towards Azzi, “carry me?”

Azzi swats her hands away, “Absolutely not lazy, it’s one flight of stairs.”

“That’s like 20 steps,” Paige whines. To be honest, she’s not that tired. Out of the two of them, she’s probably closer to being a night owl. But Paige is nothing if not a little bit of nuisance, especially when it comes to Azzi. 

“Are you an athlete or not,” Azzi chides, rolling her eyes. 

“Bro I just won a championship AND I had the flu. And you won’t even carry me? What kind of best friend are you?”

“Paige.”

“Azziiiiii.”

“Paige I’m tired.”

“Pleeeeeaseeee.”

The younger girl sighs, a sign of her caving in, before turning around so her back is facing Paige's front, “fine, get on you big baby.”

“YES-”

“Dude shut up, you’re gonna wake everybody up,” Azzi groans, always the responsible one. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Paige whispers as she jumps onto Azzi’s back, the force of it causing the brunette to take a couple steps forward, “fucking hell Azzi don’t drop me.”

Azzi lets out an indignant squawk, as she regains her balance,  “with that attitude, I should drop you.”

“If you’re too weak to carry me, just say that,” Paige teases, wrapping her legs firmly around Azzi’s torso.  She buries her shit-eating grin in her best friend’s neck, as she loops her arms around Azzi’s shoulders.

“It is not my fault you’ve put on like a hundred pounds since I last saw you.”

Azzi squeals when Paige pinches at her ribcage and the blonde immediately slaps a hand on her best friend’s mouth, “what happened to being quiet? Now, onwards horsey- OW! Did you just fucking bite my hand!?”

“What happened to being quiet?” Azzi mocks, adjusting Paige’s weight on her back as she begins to walk towards the staircase, grumbling something under her breath about ‘ungrateful best friends’ but Paige knows she doesn’t mean a word of it. She snuggles further into Azzi’s neck, letting herself breathe in the scent of the younger girl. 

When Azzi had first left Minnesota, after they’d spent every second since the plane ride back from Argentina, Paige had thought that that hollowness in her chest was temporary, that it would fade once she got back into daily life. It didn’t. And the thing is the word miss had existed in Paige’s dictionary before too but she doesn’t think she really understood what it meant til she started to miss Azzi. 

As soon as they reach Paige’s bedroom, Azzi’s already swatting Paige off her back. The blonde falls back onto the pillows on her bed with a content sigh, watching with a cheeky grin as Azzi pretends to stretch out the muscles on her back and her arms.

“I think that might have broke my fucking back,” the younger girl groan, face scrunching up in mock exhaustion, “and I have to sit on a plane again tomorrow.”

That wipes the smile straight off Paige's face. It’s so easy to get lost in the moment with Azzi, so easy to forget that they spend less time together than they do apart. They haven’t bothered with the actual lights but even in the dim glow of the moon through Paige’s windows, Azzi sees her best friend’s change in expression clearly, her own face becoming melancholic. Sighing, she climbs onto the bed herself and lies down next to Paige, intertwining her hands with the older girl’s. 

“You could stay a little longer,” Paige says after a moment, eyes resolutely focused on the ceiling. 

Azzi let out a wistful sigh, “I wish. But you know I can’t.”

“You can, you just won’t, little miss goody-two-shoes,” the light-hearted teasing eases some of the mood as they both let out soft giggles. They dissolve into a comfortable silence before, “I can’t wait til we’re playing for UConn together.”

Paige misses the way Azzi stiffens a little next to her, too enthralled with imagining a future where she and her best friend could conquer the world together. She knows Azzi, with all her indecisive tendencies, hasn’t quite come around to being anywhere near ready to pick a college team yet but Paige still has time to convince her and Paige Bueckers is nothing if not persuasive. 

“So it’s definitely UConn then?” 

“Yeah. I mean it’s UConn dude. The UConn. They’re the best. All these other programs are nice but when UConn calls, you don’t say no to that shit,” and Paige means that with all her heart. As the number one recruit in her class, there had been no shortage of offers and of course Paige had entertained them for a little while. But the minute Geno Auriemma had given his offer, everything else had become obsolete. She hadn’t committed yet, still maintaining a façade of being in the decision stage, but all of that was just a front. Paige knows she’s meant to be a UConn husky, there’s no way around it. 

“I think you’ll make a pretty damn good Husky,” Azzi says with a soft smile, as she absentmindedly plays with Paige’s fingers. 

“We’ll make damn good Huskies,” Paige affirms. 

“I don’t know P, California’s pretty tempting,” it’s said teasingly but a hint of seriousness slips through the cracks anyway. 

Paige scoffs, “cause it’s hot? Bruh that much heat would be boring. Connecticut gets all four seasons. We’d get the heat and the snow.”

“I get all of that in Virginia already,” Azzi points out with a huff, “maybe I want something different.”

“You do get something different. You get to play with me. That’s different.”

“Yeah but-”

“Dude why are you fighting me on this? Do you not want to be on the same team as me or something?” Paige asks agitatedly, suddenly feeling frustrated with the turn the conversation had taken. 

“Okay breathe,” Azzi gives her a stern side-eye, “I was just saying California’s nice. Of course I want to be on your team. Did the shirt not make that obvious?”

Involuntarily, Paige has to smile at the memory of Azzi’s jersey, the team Paige that had been loudly imprinted across her chest, “right, sorry got a little carried away. I just always want you on my team, you know?”

“I’m always on Team Paige. I always have been. I always will be,” Azzi says firmly, as if it’s the most obvious truth in the world.  

When Paige turns her head to look at her best friend, the younger girl is already looking back at her and the sincerity in Azzi’s eyes makes Paige’s heart stutter. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige swears she can see every little detail in the dim light. And the thing is Paige has always known Azzi’s a pretty girl, she’s not blind. But it’s different tonight. Tonight Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that Paige wants to memorise until it’s imprinted in the back of her eyelids, the kind of beautiful that she wants to lock away in a treasure chest and preserve only for her own eyes to ever see again. The kind of beautiful that Paige knows she isn’t allowed to think of Azzi as. But still, right now, Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that makes Paige want to try and see if maybe, just maybe, there’s the possibility for something more. 

That night, when she finally falls asleep to the sound of her best friend’s quiet breathing, Paige dreams of UConn and championships and at the end of it all, kissing Azzi under the confetti. 

***

April 2024

There’s 14 seconds left in the National Championship game and UConn is ahead by eight points. Adrenaline courses through Paige’s veins as that one elusive dream of hers seems to finally be coming closer and closer to fruition. Winning a National Championship had been on her mind since she’d first picked up a basketball. The minute she’d committed to UConn, it had felt inevitable and yet year after year, her team had fallen just a little short. But this afternoon, it seems like it’s finally within grasp. 14 seconds to go. 14 steps closer to having her perfect moment. 

Except, every time Paige had imagined this moment, she’d expected her best friend to be there. In the beginning, before everything, she’d dreamed of them being on the court together, running into each other’s arms the minute the buzzer sounded. And then, until the last second today before she had to take the court, Paige had just assumed that when she’d look in the stands, somewhere in the crowd, there’d be the one face she wanted to see most in the world. But no matter how much she squinted, that face had been nowhere to be found and Paige had forced herself to compartmentalise her disappointment, and focus on the game. She hadn’t looked at the crowd since. 

The ball is in the other team’s hands, their point guard, diligently calling out plays before she inbounds it. Coach’s words echo in Paige’s head, try for a clean steal but don’t under any circumstances foul. Their pg inbounds the ball and the shot clock starts to count down. The ball bounces through the hands of different players on the other team but the UConn defence is stifling. Their coach is out of timeouts and it isn’t until the last millisecond that they heave up a prayer shot. And it doesn’t matter if it goes in, it’s a two point possession game, but Paige’s eyes are glued on the basketball anyways. 

The shot is an airball. The buzzer sounds through the arena. UConn wins their 12th national championship. 

For a second, everything goes silent around Paige. The normally over-excitable girl, known for her insane golden retriever energy, is perfectly still. It takes a couple more seconds for the adrenaline to hit. And then she’s screaming, pummeling her body into the rest of her teammates as the bleed blue crowd goes wild. She loses herself in the noise of her teammates cheering and the bright lights of cameras flashing nearby. They did it. And it doesn’t erase just how fucking hard the last couple of year had been, but it makes the burden significantly lighter. 

Paige rushes through the handshake line, the opposing team’s coach giving her an appreciative review of her performance before she’s recaptured into a group hug by her teammates. It’s a surreal feeling really, one that’s far better than even her most wonderful dreams. For the first time since the game began, Paige lets her gaze wander over to the family section who are all tearfully hugging, smiling at her parents and then her siblings and then- 

When her eyes meet Azzi’s, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has finally settled into its rightful place, completing the perfect picture of Paige’s perfect moment. A #5 UConn jersey hangs loosely against Azzi’s hips as she smiles shyly at her best friend. And Paige is scared to blink, scared if she looks away, the girl in front of her will disappear. It takes everything in her to not rush into the stands, pull her best friend into her and kiss her under the confetti. 

Azzi doesn’t budge when the rest of the family and friends crew start to move towards the court. There’s too much attention, too much media, for that to be a feasible option. Paige wishes they would all just disappear, let her have her moment the exact way she’d pictured it. She thinks she’d like to fulfil that dream of hers, kiss Azzi in the confetti, twirl her around, and between it all, let the world know that she was Paige’s. 

As always, Drew is the first person to reach her. He’s a little too big for her to pick up, but she spins him around anyway. 

“You won Paigey,” her little brother squeals and he might be older now, but that innocent admiration of his older sister is as palpable as always, “I knew you could do it!”

“Thanks for always believing in me, little dude,” Paige says softly, leaning her cheek against the top of Drew’s head.

Over the top of her brother's head, Paige realises with sudden panic that Azzi’s not there anymore. Dread filters into her bloodstream, the voices in her head screaming it was too good to be true. The way her body tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by her mother who’s quick to hold her. 

“She said to tell you she’d see you at the hotel later,” Amy Jo says with a knowing smile, before letting Paige’s body sag into hers. She rubs her daughter’s back as relief settles into the younger girl's features, “proud of you Paigey.”

Paige smiles into her mother’s chest. Last year had been the hardest of her life and for a while the light at the end of the tunnel had been hard to see. Today, she feels the light surrounding her, washing away all the darkness from the last few years, bathing her in the glow of happiness. 

***

“I always knew you’d look good in a UConn jersey.”

Azzi’s eyes fly open and Paige smirks, leaning her body against the wall. The last couple of hours had been a whirlwind of media, champagne and excited chatter about what the after party would be like. Paige’s focus had been on celebrating, but the thought of getting back to Azzi had been a constantly lingering presence in the back of her mind. And as the bus had gotten closer to the hotel, anxiety had creeped in because what if Azzi wasn’t there? What if she’d changed her mind? 

Paige had smiled for the fans outside the hotel, diligently posing for pictures and signing autographs, ignoring the heaviness in heart. But as soon as she was far away from prying eyes, she was bolting towards her room. And then everything was okay. Paige has heard a lot of cliché things about love, about how it makes you hear violins and see stars and all of that, about how it increases your heart rate and makes you flush. But Paige thinks all of that can’t quite be right. Because when she’d seen Azzi, curled up in her sheets, #5 jersey crumpled but still fitted around her body, Paige had only felt a sense of calm. And that Paige thinks, is probably the actual truth of love, it’s about finding peace and to Paige, Azzi has always been her peace. 

“I’d look great in any jersey,” Azzi claps back groggily, moving to sit up. 

“But you look the best in mine. You always have,” Paige tries to keep her voice teasing, but it comes out sounding rather wistful, and the next words are even softer, “you came.”

Azzi bites her lips, looking down at her fiddling thumbs, “you asked me to.”

Those four little words carve themselves into a little crevice in Paige’s heart as if they’ll stay there forever, as if they’ll echo through her entire body for the rest of time. She practically throws herself onto the younger girl, the force of it pushing Azzi back down into the pillows, as she buries her head in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Their legs slot together of their own accord and it’s a little bit like they’re trying to meld into each other’s skin the way they press themselves as close as possible, til there’s barely space for air in between them. They lie like that for god knows how long; it goes by in a rush and yet ever so slowly. 

“I’m really fucking happy you’re here,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s skin, “really fucking happy.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, humming into Paige’s hair as she tightens her grip on the blonde’s waist but Paige can tell by the way she stiffens underneath her, that Azzi’s holding herself back from something. Her heart hammers in her chest as she lifts her face from Azzi’s neck to inspect the younger girl’s face. 

“What aren’t you saying to me Az?” she whispers quietly with a sinking feeling.

“Paige,” Azzi closes her eyes. And just that is enough for Paige to understand exactly what’s going through her best friend’s head and suddenly she wishes she’d never asked, just let them have this moment. 

“Never mind, I don't want to hear it.”

“That’s not how that works. I- I wanted to wait a little but we- we need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” Paige retorts stubbornly, fighting the tears threatening to spill, “I don’t want to.”

“Paige-”

The girl in question pushes herself off of Azzi, rising to sit on her knees, “this is meant to be the best day of my life Azzi.”

“I know- I’m sorr-”

“What game are you playing, Azzi? Why even fucking come if you were never gonna stay?” Paige spits out. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, as she sits up “maybe- maybe I should have stayed away. But it’s you Paige, it’s you and I- I’ve never been that good at staying away from you. And maybe I’m just really selfish but I- I told you once that I wanted to be there when your dreams came true and so- here I am.”

They’d barely known each other when Azzi had said that, when they had just been young innocent girls with a tentative friendship, lying in the grass and sharing their dreams. Back then, the words had thrown Paige off. She hadn’t quite understood why they had meant that much to her, why they had filled her with more warmth than the sun shining above them. But she’d tucked them away in a little corner of her heart hoping she’d understand it better when she was older. She’s older now and she understands. Except every single emotion she’d felt at fifteen is heightened with the realisation that the words had meant something to Azzi too. And-

Paige surges forward to kiss Azzi. She’s pretty sure this bipolar act of theirs will be the death of them someday but it’s the only thing in the moment that makes sense. Azzi is hesitant at first, clearly too in her head, always the overthinker, but she gives in when Paige squeezes at her waist. It’s not as if they’ve kissed that many times before but it feels familiar, a little bit like coming home. She moves to straddle Azzi’s hips and they can’t get any closer really with every bit of their bodies pressed together now, but Paige tries anyways, tries to etch please don’t leave me into the other girl’s skin. And she isn’t sure if the salt she can taste is from the tears steadily streaming from Azzi’s eyes or the ones free-falling from her own. 

The minute Azzi pulls away, Paige misses her. 

“We can’t-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Paige cuts Azzi off immediately, resting her forehead against the younger girl’s, “please.”

“Paige,” Azzi breathes out, “I have to go.”

“No you don’t,” Paige says stubbornly. 

“Paige please-”

“Stay- fuck please- Azzi- just give me tonight. Tomorrow we can talk and you can-,” Paige swallows, not wanting to say leave out loud, “but please- tonight can we just pretend? Can you give me that? Fuck- can I just have tonight? Please- just- stay.”

Azzi lets out a shaky breath, “it won’t make it hurt less.”

“I know- fuck- I know but I just don’t want it to hurt right now.”

“Okay,” Azzi whispers slowly, thumb caressing Paige’s wet eyelashes, “okay, I’ll stay tonight.”

Paige kisses her again. 

***

The UConn team falls in love with Azzi in a matter of hours. No one had been shocked when Paige had shown up to the after party a.k.a everybody gathering at the hotel bar, fashionably late and with a nervous Azzi teetering behind her. It had been awkward at first; everyone was a little unsure of how to act around the new presence. Not only was Azzi from a rival team, but everyone was at least a little aware of her tumultuous relationship with their star player. But then KK had wanted to film a tiktok that needed someone to do random camerawork and when everybody else had groaned, Azzi had quietly volunteered. Much to KK’s delight, Azzi turned out to be quite the cameraman. And that apparently was all that was needed and Paige marvels at the way Azzi just fits.

She moves around Paige’s team as if they’re just as much hers. One second she’s timing some stupid drinking game that KK and Ice are playing, the next she’s sitting in a corner laughing with a more subdued Ash and Q. 

Aubrey and Ayanna gush over their girlfriend and Azzi’s coos over their pictures, a hint of wistfulness on her face when she meets Paige’s eyes. 

The team does their routine of teasing Aaliyah’s about being vegetarian and Azzi diligently backs the Canadian up with a spiel of how tofu isn’t actually that bad. That gets her a hi-5 from Aaliyah despite the eye rolls from the rest of the team. 

Despite being a little tipsy from having been dragged into doing shots with Amari and Carol, the two other people she knows pretty well, Azzi diligently lets Inés and Jana teach her little bits of Portuguese and Egyptian. 

Even Nika sheds her frostiness, amused by Azzi’s curiosity to learn her native language beyond just the curse words, and teaches the younger girl a couple of words. Azzi rolls her eyes fondly when she realises she’s been taught to say UConn is the best team ever in Croatian and amidst Nika’s laughter, Paige knows is a hidden acceptance. 

But the best part of it is that although Azzi’s suddenly being pulled in all different directions by various UConn girls, she never really leaves Paige’s side through it all. There’s always a little bit of them touching, whether it’s their shoulders or their knees, even when they’re both involved in completely different conversations and activities. It feels oddly domestic and Paige is reminded of the part after her state championship all over again. The burst of i want this forever that stirs in her chest makes her want to sob because it collides head first against a wall of this is only for tonight. And Paige knows that one night won’t ever be enough for her. 

“Aye Paige’s girl, come play truth or shots with,” KK’s loud voice breaks through Paige’s cloud of distress and it’s eclipsed by the implication of those two words. 

Paige’s girl. The phrases makes itself home in Paige’s heart, sounding so fucking right. She hasn’t let herself acknowledge it truly ever but that’s how it’s always been in Paige’s mind. It’s how she’s always thought of Azzi. As hers. Her Azzi. Her girl. 

“I’m not-that’s not-” Azzi’s cheeks are tinted pink as she stutters through her words, withering under KK’s cocked eyebrow. 

“Uh-okay if you say so,” KK rolls her eyes, holding her hands up in a sarcastic defensive position, “guess we’re starting off truth or shots by lying.”

The rest of the team laughs as Azzi’s blush grows even deeper and Paige can’t even try and hide her smile, her own neck tingling a little bit as she tucks herself into Azzi’s side. And it’s not real, they’re not anything, but in this moment it feels a little bit like they’re everything. 

“You guys are sickening,” Ice accuses when she notices the two of them cheesily smiling at each other, “it makes me gag.”

“They’re cute. Leave them alone,” Caroline chastises, ever the supportive friend. 

Azzi leans back against Paige’s arm as the group goes around the circle, asking each other ridiculous questions, cheering like little kids when their teammates opts to drink instead of answering a vaguely invasive question. When it’s her turn, Paige can already tell by the glint in KK’s eyes that her menace mini-me is about to cause trouble. 

“Paigey cakes, when’s the last time you had sex?”

Next to her, Paige can feel Azzi stiffen immediately. The shot feels heavy in Paige’s hand as she seriously contemplates taking it. She knows why KK asked the question, probably having concocted some idea of exposing Paige and Azzi. She’d known by the waggling eyebrows that the whole team had thought the two of them were late because they’d been fucking but that couldn’t be further from the bitter truth. 

Paige chances a look at Azzi’s face as she bites down on her lips. The younger girl’s face is stoically devoid of any emotion and Paige knows she’s thinking about the night of the crash (or as Paige likes to call it, the most terrifying night of her life) except- 

“November, last year,” Paige says slowly and Azzi whips her face around to look at her, lips falling apart in shock. 

“Don’t play, there’s no fucking way,” Ice guffaws and Paige shrugs. 

“It’s the truth.”

“Bruh what the fuck,” KK looks a little shell-shocked, “how the fuck did you survive that long?”

“Some of us actually know what to do with our own fingers,” Paige quips defensively, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach at the way Azzi’s still looking at her. 

“I bet Azzi knows all about your fingers huh Azzi?” and even that, KK’s unhinged commentary, isn’t enough to get Azzi to pull her gaze away from Paige. It’s almost as if she hadn’t heard it all. 

“You didn’t- that night?” Azzi manages to get out. 

“Couldn’t do it,” Paige mumbles, “she wasn’t you.”

Despite the horde of people around them, they’re in their own little bubble now. There are a multitude of questions swimming in Azzi’s eyes and Paige wants to answer all of them if it means that maybe just maybe, she could prevent the inevitable misery tomorrow would bring. 

“Okay Azzi, it’s your turn,” Amari’s voice draws Azzi’s attention away and Paige feels cold without the heat of it. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive tomorrow. Living in the present isn’t working and Paige finds herself already feeling the emptiness she knows will become her reality in a couple of hours. Her fingers tap an incessant pattern on her thigh as she tries to keep her focus on the game, 

Azzi swallows nervously before mustering up a grin with false confidence, “I’m ready. Hit me with your best, I’m not drinking.”

“We’ll see about that,” KK smirks, diabolically rubbing her hands together, before she turns to Nika, “all yours Nik-Nik.”

The other girls “ooh”, knowing  Nika’s reputation for being notoriously good at this game. The Croatian grins at Azzi, as she sits up from where she’d been lazily lying on the love seat, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And then her eyes meet the forlorn ones of her twin and something shifts. When she looks back at Azzi, there’s a more serious look on Nika’s face. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

There’s pin drop silence once the gravity of the question registers. The light-hearted air in the room is replaced with anticipation, as all of Paige’s teammates look back and forth between their point guard and her best friend. Paige isn’t sure if she wants to know the answer, doesn’t know if there’s an answer that wouldn’t break her heart just a little bit. For a second, it looks like Azzi’s going to drink until she puts the shot down on her hand rest until- 

“Yes,” she confesses in a whisper, and Paige feels her heart begin to race, “I have.”

“How many times?” Nika prods

“That’s not how the game works. I already answered your question.”

“Different rules for newcomers,” Nika shrugs. It’s a blatant lie but nobody says anything. Paige is still caught up in her own head and the other girls won't challenge Nika, not when they’re just as curious, “I get to ask questions til you drink.”

Azzi narrows her eyes, knowing it’s all bullshit and maybe if she wasn’t a little bit tipsy and competitive, maybe if she couldn’t feel every inch of Paige’s side pressed against her, she’d walk away but she can’t. 

“Only once,” she answers. 

“With your ex-girlfriend?” Nika asks. The way she raises an eyebrow suggests there’s only one right answer to the question. Paige doesn’t know if there’s a right or wrong answer, only that there’s an answer that would shatter her. 

“No. I was never in love with her,” Azzi directs the answer towards Nika, but everyone knows it’s meant for Paige’s ears. And despite the tornado still roaring in her body, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief. 

Nika’s intimidating demeanour cracks a little bit when that answer makes her smile, “are you in love with someone right now?”

Even if it’s not said out loud, the implication of Nika’s question, the someone, is clear. And suddenly Paige doesn’t want to hear the answer, not right now, not when they’re both a little tipsy, not when they’re surrounded by all her teammates, not when their future is so unclear. 

“Drink,” Paige cuts in, holding the shot in front of Azzi, “don’t answer it.”

“Paige-”

“Drink Azzi,” Paige says firmly. 

Azzi looks equal parts relieved and frustrated as she downs the drink, happy to have gotten out of the uncomfortable round of questioning but a little annoyed at losing in front of the UConn girls. 

“And you said you wouldn’t drink,” Nika sneers, as she hi-5’s her teammates. 

“Because you bent the rules; she did great,” Paige defends immediately and everyone snickers, the mood in the room returning to something more casual.

“So fucking pussywhipped,” Ice teases. 

“Shut up,” Paige whines, hiding her face against Azzi’s shoulder as everybody else laughs. If the voices in head screaming this is just for tonight would shut up for a second, Paige thinks maybe she could fall in love with this moment, surrounded by her found family. 

It’s almost 3 am when the team decides maybe they should start going to bed, knowing they have a morning flight back to Connecticut. Everyone else is still in a jovial mood, sufficiently drunk of both alcohol and the high of a championship but Paige’s stomach pools with dread. Every minute is a step closer to a goodbye, she’ll never be prepared to say. 

They get to the lobby of the hotel when Paige turns to Azzi, ignoring her anxiety to be a nuisance instead. 

“No,” Azzi says immediately when she sees Paige making grabby hands at her, “there’s literally an elevator Paige.”

“So? That just makes it easier for you. This is tradition.”

“In what world is this a tradition?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly. 

“Since I won the state championship,” Paige grins, “pleeeeease, I’m tired, my feet hurt.”

Azzi gives her an unimpressed look, “you’ve been sitting for the last couple of hours.”

“And before that I was winning a championship, after beating your team by the way,” Paige’s smirk widens when Azzi guffaws at catching a stray. 

“Oh fuck off. Reminding me of that is not the way to get me to carry you by the way.”

“C’mon Az, you know you’re gonna give in anyway. You know you wanna sleep, stop wasting time.”

Azzi rolls her eyes with a dramatic sight before doing exactly what she always does, giving into Paige, “hop on then you big baby.”

Paige cheers, latching on Azzi’s back as her knees circle around the other girl’s waist. Unlike when they were younger, Azzi’s doesn’t stumble anymore at the additional weight. She’s stronger now, completely solid and steady underneath Paige and that absolutely doesn’t trigger any inappropriate thoughts in the older girl’s brains, absolutely. 

“Y’all are so cringe,” KK crinkles up her face when she turns to look at them as they wait for the elevator, but there’s a certain amount of fondness in her voice, “but Azzi’s cool. Much cooler than you P boogers. You should bring her around more often.”

Paige’s smile vanishes in tandem with Azzi letting out a strangled noise. KK looks between the two of them, slowly realising maybe she’d just put her foot in her mouth. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Paige answers noncommittally, trying to keep her voice steady. 

Much to her relief, the elevator dings open, saving her from having to say anything more. She wraps her arms tighter around Azzi, burying her face as far into the other girl’s neck as she can and closing her eyes, trying to lose herself in Azzi, instead of in the jail of her own mind.

She doesn’t look up from where she’s nestled into Azzi’s skin, when the rest of her teammates start towards their own separate rooms, telling Azzi how lovely it was to meet her. 

“Can you get off her back, so I can give her a hug?” Ice pinches Paige’s arm but the older girl just shrugs her off. 

“No. Go hug someone else.”

“Bro you’re so fucking annoying,” Ice groans and Azzi sends her an apologetic wink but it doesn’t go unnoticed that she doesn’t try to shake Paige off like she normally would. It heals something in Paige to know that Azzi doesn’t want to let go either. And she doesn’t understand why they’re doing this, why they’re fighting this, when neither of them want to. 

“I think your teammates might like me better than you,” Azzi teases when they finally get back to the room and Paige climbs off of her back. The blonde is too lost in her thoughts to come back with a smart quip. And of course her best friend notices it immediately, nudging her quietly, “P? You good?”

Paige blinks up at Azzi, and even before she says the word, she knows Azzi’s already read them in her eyes, “I don’t want you to go.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs tiredly, “what happened to pretending tonight?”

“Fuck pretending,” Paige blames the alcohol for how loud her voice comes out, guilty only because it makes the girl in front of her flinch, “I don’t want just tonight. It’s no where near fucking enough. I want forever. With you.”

“That’s not- Paige- we live on different sides of the country.”

“For now, but we can make it work. It’s us,” Paige pleads desperately. 

Azzi scoffs, stepping away from Paige, “you say that like it a good thing.”

“What-”

“Us! We don’t- it’s not- being ‘us’ is not a good thing Paige. May us from before but us now? Us now is complicated and messy and hard and I just- I can’t do this Paige.”

“You can- we can- Azzi- just- think about it okay- sleep on it- you’ll see. You’ll see, I’m right.”

Azzi shakes her head, closing her eyes as a single teardrop leaks out, “you’re making this so fucking hard Paige.”

“I don’t want to- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry baby,” the term of endearment slips through Paige’s lips before she can catch it, “but I need you to think about it once please.”

She moves to cup Azzi’s cheeks, thumb caressing away the tears, “please.”

“Okay, okay,” Azzi nods, resting her forehead against Paige’s, “I’ll think about it.”

They’re quiet as they get changed for bed, thinking about the same thing. Co-existing together comes naturally to them after years of inhabiting each other’s space and the. there's no getting in each other’s way, even if they’re both dead silent. It’s awkward when they finally get into bed, both of them lying on their back, resolutely staring up at the ceiling. Paige is the first one to move, turning onto her side so she can face Azzi. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful, the same kind of beautiful Paige had thought of her as since the state championship. 

“What was your answer going to be,” she asks quietly. 

“To what?”

“To Nika’s question. Are you in love with someone right now?”

Azzi hesitates a little bit, before turning her own body to face Paige, “you know the answer Paige, you don’t need me to say it.”

Paige doesn’t prod, knowing they were too volatile for her to keep pushing. Instead she reaches over to intertwine their hands together. 

“Do you know what my answer would have been?”

“Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”

Maybe there’s peace in knowing. Or maybe there’s only more pain. Paige doesn’t know if the truth sets her free, doesn’t know if she could ever even be set free from the shackles that bind her to Azzi, doesn’t think she even wants to be set free. But at least Azzi knows too. Maybe there’s peace in drowning together. 

***

Paige wakes up in a panic when she reaches over and finds the other side of the bed empty. She gets up with a jolt, eyes frantically searching for Azzi, until they finally land on the girl sitting on the couch next to the bed. 

“Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.”

“That’s more your style,” Azzi says and Paige flinches at the reminder, “how’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. How about you?”

“Pretty shit actually” Azzi admits, “I woke up every two seconds, scared you’d be gone.”

“Az-”

“You asked me to believe in you- to believe in us and I-” Azzi draws in a sharp breath and Paige knows she’s not going to like where this is going, “I want to- I really, really, wish I could. But I don’t. I can’t- I can’t be with you Paige- not when I’m scared you’re going to break my heart every second.”

“Azzi,” Paige scrambles across the bed, stopping when the girl in question holds her hands up. Everything in her feels like it’s on fire. There are no burn marks on her skin but she swears she’s been turned to ashes underneath. 

“And you deserve better than that too Paige. You deserve someone who- who’s not scared. Who can give you all of herself without- without holding back and I- I can’t do that.”

“You can- fuck- Azzi you can- please,” desperation leaks through every syllable as Paige fights what she knows is a losing battle. 

“Not right now. Too much has happened between us and we can’t- we can’t just ignore all of that and start something new- maybe someday- but not right now.”

Azzi stands up from her seat, hesitantly walking over to Paige’s side of the bed. She cups Paige’s face, watery dark brown eyes meeting crystal blue ones that are glistening with tears. 

“Azzi please,” Paige begs, feeling everything slip away before she’d even had a chance to fight for it. 

Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s forehead, holding them there for what feels like the briefest of seconds until she’s pulling away, “I’m sorry P.”

And then she’s gone and every part of Paige’s heart is gone with her. 

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

[joshfutturman]

'they'd find us in a week, ( lay here for years or for hours )'

oneshot - mike struggles to let you get close, but when your hands brush against his hair, he realises that he may not be able to keep you at arms length forever (1.7k words) pairing - mike schmidt (five nights at freddy's) & gn!reader tags - ok basically this whole thing was 'mike gets sleepy when you play with his hair because my headcanon is that his mom used to do it when he was younger', pre-established friendship verging on relationship, lingering feelings, pure fluff

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you knew mike wasn’t really the super affectionate type, or at least. . . not with you, yet. each week you’d come over, he’d inch a little closer towards you on the sofa. every time, you felt your heart rate pick up. he felt so close yet so far.

this night, he was the closest he’d ever been. your eyes drift over to the armchair where he used to sit himself when you first visited, and then to him, inches from you now on the sofa. you often treated the situation like mike was an animal, your hand outstretched waiting patiently for him to sniff, get used to your scent maybe. one wrong move and he’d scamper away. you operated on his time, at his pace.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

his leg touches yours and you feel your face heat up at the innocent touch. you dare not glance towards him, relax, you think to yourself. mike probably thought nothing of it. but when you do glance despite your best efforts, you notice the red on his cheeks too.

you try to suppress a smile.

the room was lit with only small flickers from the television in his living room, some mindless action film playing. it was his suggestion, and you let him, loving the way his face lit up when he tried to explain the plot to you in a sheepish manner. his dad used to watch it with him, he said. it felt special that he wanted to share this with you, even if it wasn’t the best movie in the world, it would turn out to be one of your favourites anyway.

you try to focus, settling back into the sofa as you rest your elbow back onto the base of the sofa behind you, supporting your head as your cheek rests against your palm. your eyes drift to mike, watching him as he eyes the television with deep interest. he’s got that sleepy look he usually has and your eyes begin to study his face a little closer now that you’ve got the opportunity.

the dark bags under his eyes hadn’t gotten any better, in fact, they looked a little worse. but that leads you onto his freckles, one. . . two. . . three. . . four. . . more than you could count, dotted across his nose and cheeks. they were your favourite of his features, little constellations you wanted to connect, his face infinitely more interesting than any of the old stars in the night sky.

his stubble was growing a little long, longer than you’d seen it before - maybe tomorrow was his usual shaving day. you wouldn’t tell him, but you thought he suited it at this length. a part of you wonders what it would feel like against your own cheek, but you quickly swat that thought from your mind.

but god, his eyelashes. they were long, dark and delicate. with each blink, you wonder if mike knew how truly beautiful he actually was. he was handsome sure, but he was also incredibly beautiful. not just in looks either, he was beautiful in the way that he’d save you an extra donut - your favourite kind, he’d swerve in the road to avoid birds, he’d send you pictures of things that reminded him of you with no caption or explanation.

you loosen up, lifting your face from your hand. your fingers twitch, itching to reach out and touch his hair. that would be weird, right? but he’s so close. his head is almost resting on your shoulder. should you?

before you have a chance to stop yourself, your fingers briefly brush through a curl on his head and immediately he flinches back.

fuck. you’ve lost him. he’s scampered away.

mike looks at you with what you think to be an angered expression. his brows knit together, leaning away from you as his eyes glance from your hand to you.

“i’m. . . i’m sorry i-“ you begin to say in defence, feeling embarrassed.

mike continues to eye you cautiously. how could he tell you the kinds of feelings that stirred for him?

suddenly he’s just a boy again. he’s had another nightmare. his mom is beside him in his cramped single bed with patterned dinosaur sheets, her hand on his soft curls at the base of his head. her touch is delicate, like he’s delicate. fingers dancing through curls, mike’s eyelids flutter closed as she hums a familiar, comforting tune.

no one’s touched his hair since then. no one.

well, no one except you. right now.

he’s not sure whether to be angry or to be upset. to snap at you or to apologise for his own reaction. he can feel the sadness bubbling in his stomach, spreading up to his chest. he hadn’t thought about this in so long, convinced he’d never be comforted in that way ever again - or maybe it was that he’d never let himself be comforted like that ever again. yet here he was, craving it.

at this point, you’re convinced it’s over. he’s going to ask you to leave. you crossed a line. there was nothing here between you and him. you wanted to apologise again, but what was the use?

“did you just touch my hair?” he finally spoke up, voice softer than you expected it to be.

you swallow hard, “yeah, sorry, i just- i dunno. . .” your words fall away from you again.

mike visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening up. “it’s okay,” he glances at your hand once more, then back to you as if he’s trying to decide something, “you can. . . if you want to.”

eyes widening, you simply stare back at him, what? you’re stunned into silence for a few moments. you’ve never heard him so soft, almost vulnerable. his gaze continues to flicker to you then away, settling back on the television and returning to the position he was in before with his head close to your shoulder. there’s a hint of red on his cheeks. you can tell he’s. . . scared.

your hand inches closer again, fingertips grazing across his dark, soft curls. immediately you see him take a deep breath through his nose, you can’t figure out what he’s feeling. secretly, he’s feeling relief.

each touch is ghost-like, hardly making contact as you switch between examining his reaction and then back to his hair. once it’s been a minute and you both relax into the interaction, you sink your hands in a little deeper as his hair glides between your fingers with ease. you flinch a little as your fingers reach scalp, splaying your fingers across his skin.

his eyes flutter closed, head slumping forward a little. you smile, drifting your nails across his head gently until you find a curl between your pointer and index finger. you twist it around, letting your fingers comb through it.

mike feels goosebumps pepper up along the back of his neck, soft tingling raining delicately along his scalp. he focuses on the soft, tender sensation of your fingers. suddenly he realises that for once, his mind is quiet. it’s not running ahead, it’s not jumping over hurdles he’d placed for himself, it’s not reliving anything, he’s. . . simply existing here, in this moment, with you.

and he’s letting you. mike isn’t shying away from the touch, instinctively rejecting any form of care. instead, he’s relishing it. his head rests against your shoulder in a final act of defeat, breathing softening to a slow pace.

if it wasn’t so goddamn relaxing, he’d probably allow himself to feel emotional. it had been so long since anyone had cared for him like this, taken the time, or even tried. his walls had grown so high that he was convinced no one would ever dare try to climb them, and if they did he’d snipe them down with a single, devastating shot.

but you? you kept climbing, taking those shots like a champ and continuing to climb anyway. slowly, but surely. and it was almost as though mike never saw you coming. like you were over that wall in a flash - waiting patiently for him to beckon you down to the other side.

and here he was as you approached.

mike’s hand finds your leg in his sleepy haze and gently, sheepishly, lets his fingertips trail across the fabric there. like he’s trying to return the favour.

this simply makes you smile.

your fingers continue to trace small shapes in his hair, a heart, a circle, a square. . . and then all your fingers at once combing through his thick curls. you can’t help but watch the way his head sinks deeper and deeper against your shoulder as he gives in to sensation.

for the first time in forever, he feels sleep beckoning him without the use of pills or any other sleep aids. just you, your simple touch and your body heat accompanying him. it’s incredibly adorable to you, watching him settle underneath your touch. his touch on your leg falters, slowing down to a halt after a short while.

gingerly, your hand snakes to the front of his scalp, running through the curls covering his forehead and exposing the skin there as if to take a peek at his face. your eyes widen and you smile as you see his eyes gently closed, mouth half open. was he. . . sleeping? he’d fallen asleep against you, your fingers still in his hair. and you wouldn’t dare stop. you’d do this forever if time and the world allowed.

it was the most peaceful you’d ever seen him, evoking deep feelings of protectiveness. mike deserved better than what this life gave him, or rather, took from him. you’d do anything to make him feel at peace, even for a little while. what little you could offer to ease the burden, you’d give.

you rest your cheek down against the top of his head, letting your own eyes close - your hands now on the back of his head, playing with the curls that settle there naturally. trying your best, you keep up the soft touches of your fingertips as long as you’re able to before sleep inevitably comes for you too. it comes in waves, your head growing heavier against mike’s as he breathes out light snores.

before long, slumber sweeps you away. both of you laying contently against the other in a sleepy bundle.

tomorrow, you’d both have to face the world, but for now? this moment was yours. and in sleep, mike would pray you’d be there when he awoke.

little did he know, you’d never want to leave his side ever again.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. ‧₊˚ dedicated tags: @helen-on-earth @fatinhadesiners06 @boonam @laurrrelise @sun-spider13 @sammygirlism @sleepyhutcherson ‧₊˚ ily!! .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #michael schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #michael schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x y/n #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x y/n #michael schmidt x you #michael schmidt x y/n #michael schmidt x reader #five night's at freddy's #fnaf #five night's at freddy's fanfic #josh hutcherson fanfiction #my writing #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson fanfic #mike schmidt fanfiction #michael schmidt fanfiction #jhutch #jhutch1992 #you x mike schmidt #you x michael schmidt #reader x michael schmidt

[aurae-rori]

AVENTURINE TRAILER ANALYSIS - THE GOLDEN TOUCH

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT & AVENTURINE’S TRAILER! 

TW FOR VERY VAGUE SUICIDE MENTIONS. 

Hey girlies, hold still. On another note, hello again! I will be going through visual analysis, symbolism, and talking about how this trailer ties multiple aspects of Aventurine’s character together. Some of the things covered here I will be covering in my full analysis of Aventurine himself, so feel free to give that a shot. 

My disclaimer! Although I have been researching psychology personally for about six years, I am NOT a professional. (Yet. When I do, Tumblr Will Know.) Any conclusions I come to are because of my own deductions, personal interpretations, analysis, and logic. You are free to disagree with what I say! 

I also do NOT know card numbers and symbols – what they mean and symbolize and all that jazz. Sorry guys. :( 

Now, let’s get into it. 

First of all, let’s fucking go, let this man ENJOY himself (well. A little. This trailer is not as happy silly as it seems, just like the character himself.) He gets to have a silly boogie woogie! Look at you go!! (He is not boogie woogie-ing.)

Second of all, time for game theories.  

The first scene is really pretty. It’s a coin falling down, toppling against a few stray objects before we flash to the next panel, the ground, as it rolls to the feet of a young boy. Gently, he reaches down, before picking it up, and then, in true Aventurine fashion, proceeds to flip the coin in his hand. However, this gesture actually holds more meaning than I originally thought it did. The coin that Aventurine has seems to transcend his definition of ‘time’ – his inherent ‘value’, or his ‘roots’, never changing. It also shows his connection to his younger self – how he’s still holding onto that child, still connecting to that child, and showing that this child is still a part of him, even if it’s only his past self. 

I believe that the coin that he always has flipping around actually represents Aventurine himself – it represents his ‘value’ as a gambling chip. In Aventurine’s eyes, interpersonal relationships are just like that – they are gambles, where people take advantage of one another and backstab each other. However, it also represents how little he seems to care for his own life – he tosses the coin around, does tricks with it, and is overly flamboyant – just like how he presents himself to the outside world. This single gambling chip is actually the presentation of how Aventurine sees himself and presents himself to everyone else, as well as encompasses his worldview – bet himself, going ‘all in’ with his own worth, or doing nothing. That worth has been with him his entire life – the worth of being a child blessed by a God from his home, being blessed with good fortune. 

Also, sick ass transition. Love that shit. 

Pay attention to the next scene – there’s a brief moment where it shows him walking through a hallway… through the lens of a camera. This could definitely be alluding to the idea of always being watched – I mean, he’s the last of his own race, of course there’s going to be eyes on him. People are going to be asking questions - how is he still alive? Why is he with the IPC? Can he be trusted, considering his race was known for scheming and plotting? 

And then, he tosses open the door in a grand display – a grand display of his fake persona. He opens the room to a whole bunch of robots, who are all gambling, and they stare at him in surprise. That’s Aventurine – flamboyant, showy, confident. He holds a captive audience and all of the others move to the side as he strides towards the slots machine – and as predicted, due to his good luck, he gets three in a row. However, what I think is important to note is that he slides his coin into the machine – and remember what I said about the coin representing his worth? This is what I mean by he bets himself. He is just another gambling chip that he will use to achieve victory no matter what. He is another pawn on the table who has made his way this far, and it’s all or nothing – his whole worth, or not worth the gamble at all. 

Also, at 0:42, we see a briefcase open up to reveal a gem – definitely a callback to the 2.1 trailblaze quest with his moment with Ratio. Damn, gay people. 

Then, after that, he slides many chips towards the table – and interestingly enough, they’re all copies of his one singular chip. This, your honour, is what we call a ‘bluff’. Pretending to be more than you are in order to appear more confident so that your enemies will fear you. Pretty good strategy, honestly. 

Also, cool editing with the machines falling into the Void of Cards. Maybe symbolism for how people fall into his persona easily and fall for his schemes? 

Epic ahh pose, 0:54. Love that for you, my silly homosexual lad. 

Also, him in the elevator going to the top at around 1:02? That means more than you think it does. Probably most likely a representation of how he had to crawl his way from the bottom to the top, and yet, now, it’s showing that he is at the top now. He takes an elevator instead of having to climb – he’s gotten higher, he’s gotten more status. His ‘all or nothing’ mentality pays off. 

And then, he’s set into an arena. Representation of life, honestly. His whole life is a stage, a play, something to be watched. He’s here to put on a good show. He’s being watched, which is a callback to my note about the camera at the start. 

Then, the horrors are set loose. He does his gambling stuff with the cup in his hand while he dodges the monsters. That’s him, alright – taking gambles in dangerous situations, relying on his luck, smiling through what should be terrifying. 

“The wager will be life and death,” but oh, that’s your usual wager, Aventurine. We all know how you have self-destructive tendencies. 

1:42. Hand behind his back. Oh lord, we all died. We all know what the hand behind his back means. We all know how much emotional damage that caused. 

1:46. The dice cracks. Just like his cornerstone, eh? Just like his façade, right…? :) 

And then, everything is drowned in gold coins. Yay! 

And then, he’s standing on a ledge. Possibly a callback to how he said that he had “tested death” in the dreamscape. What better way to test it than jumping? 

And then his enemies are drowning in coins. Probably a metaphor for his win against them. 

And then, here is where things get interesting at the two minute mark. He tosses his coin down, again, like at the beginning of the trailer. Kakvasha flipped the coin up, trying to get higher, and then, Aventurine tosses the coin down, keeping his connection with his younger self. It falls down to the ground, and Kakavasha picks it up with awe in his eyes. He’s still keeping in mind his younger self, still keeping him with him, even to this day. Holding onto his past like a lifeline. 

Aventurine’s trailer… while it does seem on the surface that you’re having fun, you’re really not, when everything is a show and a gamble, right? 

Alright, thanks for reading, everyone! :) 

#aventurine #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail aventurine #analysis #media analysis #character analysis #let me cook #aurae analyzes

[vilixxr]

(non)commital

kyle x gn!reader

tags: fluff, bits of smut, marriage, that’s it. kyle is also endearingly annoying?

notes: marriage? no. with him? maybe.

wc: 962

You didn’t do the whole 'marriage' thing.

Well, you liked the idea of it. On the outside, looking in, it painted a nice picture: Eternal love, spoken out loud, in which death couldn't keep you apart. In theory.

It looked nice, pretty and pure, but you had sworn against it. You've seen how it ends, anyway. At some point, 'Eternal love' would sound more like chains you would tie to your wrists. Till death do you part, until you'd grow desperate to find the key midway through.

But, fuck, it was hard to keep promises between you and your heart. Especially when he was there.

This bastard. The one who had managed to worm through your own wall that you had set, now sitting in your stuffy kitchen. Your boyfriend, all calm and quiet, yet still holding that air of confidence that drove you wild. His lips were propped up in a dumb little smirk, almost a grin, as he caught you staring.

Kyle tilts his head, barely hides his amusement. "Somethin’ wrong?"

Absolutely.

It didn’t make sense to you. You've known Kyle for years. Years, and he’s always been the same man to you. A man who moves like he dreams. Constant, unstoppable, a man who soars and would never settle down, even if it killed him. Marriage was the furthest thing you'd find him doing. Probably.

Of course, though, you had to feel something anyway. All your heart, solely spent on him, the man that pissed you off. He just taunts you in ways that fit in the crevices of your heart, and he didn’t even know it. He makes your head spin, him and his perfection, drowns your mind in blooming photos of every single feature that made him the cunt that he is.

It had gotten so bad that you couldn't stop painting a picture of life beyond calling him your boyfriend. Wrath knows no bounds, and it's in the way you'd punch him at the altar for enlisting and leaving you. It's in the way you'd hiss in his ears all of your gripes that falter with the moan that leaves your lips mid sentence. It's in the way that you'd dedicate your energy to arguing over every little thing, even while the both of you went window shopping for a potential home.

You glance away. "No."

He smirks, like he knows. He's so getting punched at your wedding.

He slowly blinks, nonchalant. The slight sheen in his eyes are irreducible. "Has to be. You keep lookin' at me like I did somethin'."

The only thing that leaves your lips is a sigh that you hope doesn't tell him anything. You know it does anyway.

His expression barely changes, but you (unfortunately) can tell that there's something different. He looks at you, smirk stretched into a smile that shows top teeth, and his eyes shine in a way that makes you melt. It's such a look of love, where he tells you that you were the only one he really existed in his world. He may drop to his knees and bend to your will, just to see you smile. All that "hatred" you harbor, which he knows doesn't really exist, is something that he loves to shatter every time he tenderly takes you in his arms. Feel his heart pressed against yours.

And, you hate to admit it, but this is what made you soften. Your body slumps a little in your chair, but you kept your eyes on him. Those beautifully made eyes that glow in the sun, and seem to shine especially when it's you who's staring back at him.

Fuck. You'd punch him at the altar, you decided. Punch him, lightly, in the shoulder, because you couldn't dare to try and harm the man that's survived bullet wounds and bodies at his feet. You'd kiss him, because he deserves tenderness he was never given until now. You'd kiss him, again, just because. Again and again, and you'd beam at the sight of your husband.

The gripes would be nothing but insincere complaints. "I hate you," you'd breathe, but you wouldn't mean it. Your breath would hitch as he grips your thighs and kisses you in tandem with the pace set, while you follow with, "God, I love you."

And, while you may argue with him over the smallest things while choosing, you could still envision the home you'd live in with him, too. Small, cozy, some place that fits only you and him. Pillows placed so. Scattered remnants of hobbies and hoarded items left askew that encapsulate everything the both of you could ever be. Decorations, messes, love in every corner.

All that, and not just that. You'd find comfort, among the things that would make up your predetermined home. You could laugh, cry, ache, yell, rise and fall, all in the middle of the kitchen you imagined in your dreams, especially with him, wrapped around you and carrying you through it all. It was then that you'd find that something, as he cupped his hands around your face, and you did the same, cuddling among the walls of the only place the both of you could settle.

Something you've both yearned for, for a long, long time.

A home. One to reside in. One within each other.

So, marriage was something you swore off of, but it seems like the perfect time to ask him something. A murmur, so hesitant and unlike you.

It pairs well with the way your eyes dart around, before falling on him once more. You breathe, and the question leaves your lips:

“Would you marry me?”

And it was perfect, the way the corners of his eyes crinkle in an unspoken yes.

this fic beat my ass. kyle i’m sorry

stars + dots divider by cafekitsune

#cod #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #cod mwii #kyle gaz x reader #gn reader #gaz #cod gaz #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod fluff #gaz ily btw #fluff #suggestive

[froizetta]

WIP Wednesday: more superbatlantern because why not

I went slightly insane and wrote over 15k for this, so here's another excerpt lol. This one's more or less the direct continuation of this scene I already posted, so this'll probably make more sense if you read that first. But it's pretty much just Hal spying on superbat while using the ring to turn himself invisible in the hopes of catching them making out, which is a totally fine and normal thing to do to your colleagues. Nice one, Hal!

He drifted cautiously closer. The light from the sun glinted off the windows harshly at this angle, turning them opaque, but just a little further and…

There, that was it. Fuck yeah, the blinds weren’t even drawn so he had a clear view: that was definitely them alright, alone in the room, sitting really fucking close for two “platonic” best friends. Supes didn't seem to have noticed him yet, so clearly Hal had been right about him being too distracted to listen out for eavesdroppers. He was really on a roll today, huh? Ha, Hal was totally winning this bet—

Oh.

Oh, shit. That was…that was not what he’d expected to see.

Hal had definitely been right this whole time: they were fucking on the reg. But there was nothing sexual about what they were doing now. They’d pulled a couple of the meeting room chairs together. Bats was sitting on the right, more relaxed than Hal had ever seen him, cowl off, in a comfortable slouch rather than his usual ramrod-straight posture, eyes flickering lazily over a datapad. Supes was on his left, curled around him as best he could with two armrests in the way, an arm flung around Bats’ waist and his head pressed to his chest, eyes closed. Listening to his heartbeat it looked like, even though he could probably hear that shit from across a city.

It couldn’t have been all that comfortable, sitting like that, but on them it looked…easy. Familiar. Domestic. Like they’d done this, or something like it, a thousand times. Hal watched Supes’ lips move, murmuring something too quiet for Hal to hear. Whatever it was, it was apparently the joke of the century, because Bats let out an honest to god chuckle then moved his free hand up to Superman’s hair to rub gentle circles into his scalp. Big Blue practically melted against him, more overgrown puppy than godlike superpowered alien, and Bats finally looked up from his screen, and—man, even though Hal was hardly an expert on the series of mildly constipated expressions Bats normally used to emote, even he could tell that look on his face was—

Hal’s heart sank. Crap. They weren’t just fucking. They were in love.

Hovering outside the window watching a clearly happy couple act romantic with each other, Hal suddenly felt like absolute shit. It almost felt unfair, even. Batman was a crazy asshole, sure, but he was also crazy rich, crazy smart, crazy gorgeous, and mostly had his shit together. Meanwhile Superman was…well, pretty much perfect in every way, honestly. A real stand-up guy, on top of being the kind of walking wet dream you could actually take home to your parents. And on top of all that they already had going for them on their own, they also had each other?

When was the last time someone had looked at Hal like that? It was probably Carol, wasn’t it, before the last time they’d broken up. That was— Shit, that was years ago now.

This was no fucking fun at all.

With a sudden, all-encompassing intensity, Hal really, really didn’t want to be seeing this anymore. They hadn’t noticed him yet. Maybe he could just…drift away, get blackout drunk and pretend he never saw that? Yeah. Yeah, that sounded like a great plan.

Unfortunately for him, whatever that feeling was apparently audible to Kryptonians. Because just then, Superman’s head snapped up. And then he was staring right at Hal.

Shit.

“Hey, so. My bad, big guy,” Hal whispered. “Uh. Fuck. I’ll just—”

“Hal.”

“Jesus fuck!”

The voice came from directly behind him. When he whirled around, heart slamming into his ribcage—yup, that was Supes alright. Arms folded forbiddingly across his broad chest, looking stern and disappointed and faintly furious.

Hal dropped the invisibility; there didn’t seem much point to it now. “Man, did you have to sneak up on me like that? You nearly gave me a damn heart attack.”

Superman looked unmoved. “Bruce and I would like a word with you inside. Now.”

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. Let’s go.” There went his plans of quietly moving on with his life. But hey, he could admit he’d sort of made his bed in this case. He could man up and lie in it.

And besides, depending on how this went down, he could probably still do the whole drink-to-forget thing later.

#my fic #superbatlantern #to anyone expecting pure fun crack from this WIP: sorry! I accidently made it yearning #not that hal realises it yet #he'll get there eventually though #and then the rest of this fic is mostly just at hal's expense #sorry buddy! (I'm not really sorry)

[five-and-dimes]

Begging for more of Dead Hearts I love what you've posted so muuuuuuuch.

Thank you!! Since this one has been popular, I went back and tagged the snippets I've done for it, so you can find them more easily here.

Now enjoy young Hob experiencing character growth:

When Eleanor answers the door, Hob expects her to see the bruise on his cheek and laugh at him, or slam the door in his face, or any number of cruel things that Hob thinks he himself might have done if their situations were reversed. When he thinks about it later, he will realize that that was why he went to her at all. Because he had felt certain he deserved some salt in his wounds and he thought for sure that she would give it to him. Instead, she merely leans against the doorframe and looks at him pityingly, “I take it the conversation with your friends didn’t go well?” Hob laughed wetly, “I mean, we’re not friends anymore, so…” At those words, Eleanor smiles. Not meanly, not even really happily. But it makes something warm spark in his chest. Like maybe he isn’t the irredeemable scum he thinks he is if she is willing to give him a smile, even one as small and sad as this one.  “Then there’s hope for you yet.” And then, to Hob’s surprise, she opens the door wider, nodding her head to invite him inside. He follows her meekly, standing in the entryway awkwardly while she rifles through her freezer. “Come on then,” she gestures to the couch in her living room, pushing at his back when he moves too slowly for her liking. Once he is seated, she unceremoniously presses a bag of frozen blueberries against his face, “Hold this, it’ll make you feel better.” Petulantly, Hob thinks that he doesn’t want to feel better, but he follows her orders regardless. She is being kind to him even after proving just how little he deserves it. For a few minutes, they sit in silence, Hob lost in his head and Eleanore patiently waiting for him to pull himself together. To his horror, when he finally speaks, it is with a watery sniffle, “I’m a terrible person, aren’t I.” Beside him, Eleanor shrugs, “Kind of.” It's so quick and nonchalant that it startles a laugh out of him, “What do you mean, ‘kind of’?” He had thought it was a yes or no question. Sighing, Eleanor looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “What I mean,” she explains firmly, “is that you’re 18-years-old and so far have done some terrible things. There’s nothing you can do about that. You’re just going to have to live with it.”  He can’t help but wince at her words. Because they’re true.  “But,” she continues, “you’ve still got your whole life ahead of you. So,” she looks at him pointedly, “What are you going to do now?” He opens his mouth, and then closes it, looking down at his lap as he really considers her question. Up until now everything had been easy. Before Eleanor, no one had challenged him, had asked him to really think about his words and his actions, to consider that maybe his ‘jokes’ and ‘games’ weren’t actually fun. He’s been coasting through life. It would be impossibly easy to slip back into that. To go back to making other people feel awful instead of feeling awful himself. He takes a deep breath. What is he going to do now? “Better,” He decides. “I’m going to do better.”

#the sandman #dreamling #my writing #Dead Hearts WIP #Eleanor will still have to smack him occasionally while he figures out this whole 'not being an asshole' thing #but at least he's trying now #I've been having fun writing Hob and Eleanor in this fic #because at the beginning Eleanor (correctly) thinks Hob sucks asssssssss #And Hob thinks Eleanor is a buzzkill #Hob has a lot of growing up to do before Eleanor will be with him #until then she is his friend who sprays him with water whenever he says something shitty

[echobx]

not my type 4 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: y/n has to go work in the OBX a yearafter she last saw Rafe and things take their turns...

warnings: fluff, smut (p in v (unprotected))

word count: 2.5k

author's note: I'm not a fan of what I did here and I wouldn't even feel bad if y'all hated me for it bc it's just shit in my eyes, but I also don't have the capacity to change it or write it anew but I also didn't wanna leave it unfinished. that's all.

part 1 part 2 part 3

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You don't want to move to the OBX, but it's what your father expects of you and it's a promotion. You'll be in charge of the division, hiring new brokers, taking care of business. It’s a huge step forward from all the number pushing you had to do the last year since Florida was opened.  But, just like you predicted, it had been worth it, and now you're supposed to actually bring in good numbers from the island strip.  And on top of that, you are sure that you're over him. A whole year is a long time after all. 

“And the beach is just gorgeous,” you tell your friend Parker, who helped you move. You're both standing in the new office building, looking out of a window, not noticing Rafe's approaching behind you.  “That wholly depends on what side of the island you're on,” Rafe comments, and you turn around to look at him. His polo shirt hugs his muscles perfectly and the shorts sit a bit low. It's in stark contrast to the very formal rosé colored suit you're wearing.  But the worst part of it is that your heart starts fluttering just a little when his blue eyes rake over you.  “We'll find out soon enough,” you hit him back and take Parker's hand, intertwining your fingers, and to your own luck he just goes with it. You had been friends for too long for him to question your moves, and he also knew way too much about what had happened between Rafe and you.  “Good,” Rafe smiles and turns to walk into his office.  “Okay, y/n/n, I get it, but you're also crushing my hand,” Parker laughs lightly, and you let go of him.  “I'm gonna be so okay. Yes. I'll just be okay. Right?” you tell yourself and walk into your office to set it up. 

When you go out for lunch, Rafe simply joins you uninvited. You focus on Parker, on pretending that you're with him, not just because you have to keep your mind from slipping to Rafe. But mostly because you want to know if he's going to be jealous.  And from the way his jaw clenches when you kiss Parker's cheek, it seems to be working. 

However, it's only working for a week, because your friend has to go back home and the moment he's gone you jump headfirst into work. If you won't let your mind rest, it can't think of Rafe. That's your strategy.  It's a flawed one though, because after three weeks of excessive paperwork and hiring new staff, you find your desk empty, nothing left to do. At least not enough to keep you occupied for more than a few hours each day. 

“There's an issue with the Campbell property,” Rafe says while walking into your office, not having knocked. “I thought you might want to look at it before I make a decision.” He hands you the papers, and you look over it, but you can't find any mistakes on it.  “And what's your verdict?” you ask, hoping that it'll help you figure out what might be wrong, because even after reading the notes a third time, you still can't find the problem.  “You work too much,” he shrugs and you drop the paper.  “What?”  “Nothing. It's a numbers issue, see,” Rafe points at the yard size. “They say it's 0.7 acres, but it's actually just below 0.6 acres.” “How do you know that?” “Because I've been to that house. Do you want to risk us getting sued?” he cocks his brow up and you sigh.  “I'll send Darryl to measure it out. Anything else?”  “Your boyfriend isn't around as much as I thought he'd be.” Rafe lets his fingers run over the glass of your desk, and you bite the inside of your cheek to not smile. The small glimpse of jealousy makes your heart skip a beat. It's stupid, really, because you don't know each other, you shouldn't feel like that for a guy you had slept with twice over a year ago. And yet, you still did.  “Parker has his work, and I have mine,” you smile politely.  “I see. Well, the Campbell thing,” Rafe notes before walking out again, and your heart is still pounding like crazy after the small interaction. 

You keep working, trying to keep your distance and he does the same. Only talking when it's really necessary to keep the office out of the reds.  You don't notice that he keeps eyeing you when you're not looking, that he makes sure that the kitchen is always stocked with your favorite snack. And you don't know that he notices how the small packets only ever go missing when you have a rough day or had an unplanned call from your father. And that you dress more so provocatively when you have a showing than when it's just an office day. Or how you strip off your heels when you sit at your desk for more than five minutes. He picks up on all of your little antics, and he doesn't even want to, he's over it just as much as you, but he can't help it either. 

And for the brokers open two months after your start in the OBX he makes sure that the caterer has a non-seafood option alongside the tiny lobster rolls and crab cakes. Because he knows you don't eat it, and he wants to get on your good side again, although he's aware that food won't be the way to do it. 

“Old fashioned?” Rafe holds the glass out for you, and you take it with a hushed “thank you.” “That's what you had the-”  “I remember,” you look up at him, his hair is cut back to a buzz cut, and you don't know if you like it as much. It does accentuate his features though, which isn't a bad thing at all. The sharp nose and high cheekbones, the crooked smile he always greets you with- No, you can't let yourself think of him again. It was hard enough as is, to survive living and working so close to him.  “You look good,” Rafe nods at you, and you don't know what to reply. The short black dress is showing off more than you intended to, but your best friend Claire convinced you to put it on anyway when you called her earlier that day.  “Uhm… thanks,” you mumble and let your eyes run over him, half buttoned shirt and suit pants. He hadn't dressed up at all and the fact that he didn't need to, and your heart was still racing, was speaking volumes. “You clean up nice too,” you tell him and look away again. 

You try mingling, networking a little and gossiping a little less. But when you overhear a broker from a different brokerage talk about Rafe you simply can't stop yourself. The words coming out of her mouth won't add up to the Rafe you know and try to hate.  She talks about dark escapades and less intriguing things but follows them up with a harsh comment on his person. Maybe she is jealous, you choose to believe that rather than what she keeps talking about. There's nothing less believable than all the atrocious things she mentions and yet when you look at yourself in the mirror of the restroom later that night, you think it doesn't matter. Everyone has a past after all.  “He's not like that anymore, right?” you ask yourself quietly after freshening up your lipstick. 

You see Rafe standing at the side, not wanting to talk to anyone, and you start to realize why. You start to understand why he never ate lunch in the kitchen with you or the team.  “Networking is part of the job,” you remind him while placing yourself next to him.  “Not with this folk,” he replies dryly.  “You shouldn't care what they say.” You look up at him and meet his gaze.  “I don't. Do you?”  “I don't think it's possible to do this job if you're not a stone-cold killer at heart.”  He flinches at your wording but he nods. “Are you?”  “Have to.”  “You don't though,” he seems almost sorry, but he turns away again, nipping on his drink.  “Didn't get a choice much,” you mumble absentmindedly. 

“Contradictory,” Rafe huffs a laugh.  “What?”  “You. It's contradictory. You saying you didn't get a choice after telling me you made the choice freely,” he looks at you again, eyes scanning your face.  “Didn’t think you'd remember,” you mutter and turn around, wanting nothing more than to vanish into thin air, but his hand shoots out to grasp your wrist.  “Don't go, please.”  “Why?” you turn around to look at him sternly. “I'm sorry, about all of it,” he apologizes, and let's go again.  “I'm over it,” you lie.  “You're really not,” he whispers and steps closer. “And it's my fault, all of it. I'm sorry, sugar.” 

“Are the stories true? The shit they talk about you behind your back?” you ask and he nods.  “Okay,” you say and he furrows his brows.  “You don't care?”  “Not really. I mean, that was then and now is now. I know the crazy shit people do when they're high,” you shrug, and he looks a bit confused. “And the daddy issues on top of that. I mean, I get it. We've both got our fair share of daddy issues, right?”  “Right,” Rafe drags out the word, he truly didn't expect you to not care about it at all. If anything, he thought you might run again, and the fact that you don't is confusing him.  “Do you wanna get out of here and get hammered?” you whisper, and a grin spreads on your face when he takes your hand and pulls you away. 

That's how you find yourself bent over your own desk, mind hazy and a moaning mess as he fucks you.  “Too much,” you cry but Rafe just laughs. “I know you can take it, baby.” And you know he's right, but you love to be told over and over again.  “You're so good to me. So tight, sugar.”  “Gonna cum,” you moan, and he stops, pulls out and makes you turn around.  “Sit up, pretty girl, and look at me.” You follow the order, sitting up and moving to the very edge of the table before he pulls your legs over his shoulders and enters you again. 

His hand presses down on your stomach and you groan. It's all too much, and he's making it worse, moving to press on your clit with his thumb before drawing harsh circles and your eyes roll back in response.  “Cum for me, baby,” he rasps into a kiss, biting down on your bottom lip when your orgasm rips through you, squeezing him so hard that he can't hold it in anymore and shoots his hot cum into your pulsating core. “Fuck, you're perfect. So hot. Missed you so much,” Rafe pants, still buried deep inside of you and not ready to actually let go.  “Forgot how big it was,” you whisper and feel him twitching inside you. It’s just a silly little note, but it's all he needed to get hard again and fuck you again, not caring about the mess you were making. 

“Bet he's not fucking you like that,” Rafe pants, and you don't know what he's talking about, but you let it slide, too focused on the pleasure he was giving you.  “Mine. All mine,” he rambled, lips attached to your neck, nipping at the skin and leaving a plethora of open-mouthed kisses on it.  “Yours, daddy. All yours,” you moan and hold onto him tighter, pressing yourself against him to try to force him into you deeper.  “Soak me, pretty,” he breathes against your lips, one hand holding your jaw, the other between your legs, rubbing your clit. And his blue eyes are barely visible as he stares into yours.  “Make me,” you hush but scream when he pinches your clit before rubbing it again.  “Don't be a brat, sugar. Come on. Soak daddy's dick,” he grins, drops of sweat running down his toned body, and you swear you'd lick him clean all over if he let you. And when his tongue once again entangles with yours, your eyes roll back and your legs tremble. Screaming at the high he managed to give you and far past it as he fucks you through it and empties his load into you for the second time. 

And the next few weeks you spend the same, pretending like nothing happened while letting him fuck you every single night. You don't want to talk about all the things that you should clearly talk about.  Like the fact that he still believes that you have a boyfriend up in New York, or that he keeps staying longer until he falls asleep next to you, and you don't have the heart to kick him out.  But you groan when you wake up and see him try to get ready as quietly as he can. 

“What are you doing?”  “Didn't mean to wake you, sugar,” Rafe apologizes and leans over you, placing a kiss on your lips.  “Don't go,” you whisper as he hovers over you. “I don't want you to go.”  “Are you sure?” he asks and you nod again. It takes him less than ten seconds to strip himself of his pants and jump back into bed. 

Your head is nuzzled into his neck while you hold onto him, somewhat scared that'll it's just a dream.  “I think you should break up with your boyfriend,” Rafe mumbles.  “Boyfriend?” you pull away with furrowed brows.  “Yeah. Not really fair to him. Not really fair to us,” he doesn't look at you as he says it.  “Us?” It's not that the term itself is confusing to you, but more so the fact that it's coming from him. That he's saying it so casually.  “Yeah. If you didn't have that Parker guy, I could actually take you out, show you off,” he whispers and finally lowers his eyes to see your awestruck face. “What?” 

“You want to date me?”  “I would yes. Is that hard to believe?”  “I'm me, and you're… you,” you answer, but he just kisses you, hoping to smother all your doubts with it. 

“Rafe?” you whisper and he nods. “Parker isn't my boyfriend, I just wanted to make you jealous,” you admit with a whisper and to your surprise he starts laughing. “What's so funny?”  “I didn't even think of that,” he laughs and starts plastering you in kisses. “So smart. So perfect. So pretty,” he says in between kisses.  “Do you really think so?” you ask, and he nods repeatedly, a smile playing on his lips.  “You're so beautiful, y/n.”  “Okay,” you blush and try to hide under the sheets, but he pulls them down to kiss you again and again, and you don't think he'd ever want to stop, and you wouldn't tell him to either. 

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please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @drwstarkeyy @notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @julczimozart

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfiction #~fanfiction #smut #my writing

[propertyofyoutube]

Anything for you Mrs Golbach - EXPLICIT

Summary: it was your's and Sam's wedding day. It had truly been the most magical day so far, and the wedding coordinator tells you take a little break alone before the party begins...

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, bad language, quickie, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of fluff, wedding day woo. Husband sam!

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

"Okay! 3, 2, 1, cheese!" Your mom shouted as she held up her phone to take a photo of you and all of your bridesmaids. It was roughly halfway through your wedding day. You had officially married the love of your life, already drank at least half a bottle of wine, taken a gizillion photos, smiled none stop and had to redo your makeup 3 or more times from the happy tears.

You all cheered as mom took many photos, switching your poses every few seconds, you felt nothing but happiness as you stood surrounded by your best friends on the most magical day of your life. "Absolutely gorgeous!" Your mom shouted as you all laughed and cheered.

"I can't believe you're actually married!" Your maid of honour said as she shook your shoulders.

"I know right! Look at me!" You laughed as you held up your hand showing the 2 most important rings on your finger. "I'm a wife!"

All the girls laughed, "I'm just glad Sam didn't turn up in an XPLR tracksuit!" Your friend said as everyone laughed even louder.

"Don't!" You sighed, "I told Colby, do not let him talk about ghosts during his speech, and thankfully, Colby made sure the speech was absolutely amazing!" You said as you sipped your wine.

"I cried the whole way through it." Your maid of honour said as she wiped under her eye remembering the loving words Sam had said about his new wife.

"Me too..." you smiled, you grabbed your best friend's hand, "it has honestly been everything I've ever dreamed of."

Suddenly you felt a hand slowly touch your back as it snaked around your waist, "Mrs Golbach?" Sam's voice travelled down your ear as you turned your head to his handsome face smiling at you. All your friends squealed with excitement as they heard him call you that.

"Husband?" You replied with a smirk.

Sam's hand suddenly moved to the top of your arm as he slowly slide it down to gently grip your hand, lifting it to his lips. "Please may I steal my beautiful wife for a moment?" He said with a smile to all your girls.

"Of course!" Your maid of honour said quickly as the girls hurried away back to the bar.

You smiled watching as they scurried away, "what can I do for you Mr Golbach?" You smirked bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck.

His hands rested against your back as he pulled you close to him, "firstly, you can kiss your husband, Mrs Golbach." Sam said with a smirk as he leaned down connecting your lips in a soft sweet kiss. As he pulled away he smiled down at you. "And secondly, Lauren the wedding coordinator has said we should, 'take this time to soak in our marriage' before the party begins..." he said with just the warmest grin on his face.

"Oh really?" You said with a smirk as you admired his features. You've wanted nothing more than to rip this tux off him all day.

Sam rolled his eyes with a smile, "we only have 10 minutes before the party starts..." you pouted your lips in a face sad expression as he laughed, "you have another dress to put on, and I really want to watch you take this off... slowly... and then put your other dress on, even slower." He said as he bit his lip nodding his head.

You laughed as you downed the rest of your wine, "let's go then, baby." You smiled as you pulled him by the hand towards a near by take, carefully placing your glass down.

"Congratulations y/n and Sam!" A relative shouted as you both smiled and waved.

"Thank you so much!" You both said in unison as you continued over to the front desk of the manor. After a couple of kind words exchanged by the receptionist, she handed you the key to the honeymoon suite.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

As you walked into the beautifully decorated, Victorian style Manor House, master bedroom, the four poster bed instantly caught your eye. "Oh wow..." you gasped as you wondered around, your fingers dancing across the old furniture. After a moment you turned around to look at Sam as he leaned against the wall, admiring how you moved with his bow tie already hanging loosely around his neck.

You smirked before moving to the middle of the room, Turning your back to Sam, "do you mind baby?" You said as you signalled the back of your dress.

"Of course." He said softly as he took a deep breath. He walked towards you slowly, his eyes travelling up and down your body. He loved how your wedding dress showed your figure perfectly. As he reached you, he lifted his hands to your lower back where the top of the dress sat, suddenly, his face fell confused. "Uh..." he chuckled, "how do I do this baby?"

You laughed with him before you spoke, "it's just a zip babe! The buttons are for show! Move the fabric over!" You couldn't help but giggle as Sam sighed.

"Women and their deceiving buttons..." he joked as he found the top of the zip, his fingers gripping it tightly. He slowly began to pull the zip down your back, the loosening of the fabric sending goosebumps over your entire body. You breathed heavily, wishing you had more time to be pounded by your new husband. The zip sam held slowly revealed the gorgeous white Lacey underwear, that sat comfortably against your ass cheeks. "Fuck..." Sam gasped as he felt his dick began to grow, his trousers tightening at the sight. You felt a smirk spreading across your face as you slowly slide your arms out of the dress, allowing it to fall hitting the floor. You stood there in nothing but the panties that were making Sam's mouth water.

You heard as Sam swallowed hard and you turned to face him slowly. Sam's eyes fell wide as your bare breasts came into view. Even after all this time, your absolute beauty never fails to amaze him. Both of you stood for a moment, your breathing caught in your throat as your jaws fell slack, "we better get changed." You said reluctantly, but your stare said otherwise.

Sam didn't say anything, you knew that look in his eyes, that was his 'I'm going to fill you up' look.

"We can't be late baby..." you said seductively with a smirk, as you subtly lifted your hand brushing it against his rock hard bulge. You watched Sam twitched from your touch, his breath hitched.

"Fuck it." Sam's voice was low as he spoke and he quickly grabbed your face with both hands, pulling you tightly into a heated, passionate kiss. As tongues fought for dominance your hands moved to slip off his suit jacket, tossing it aside. You both giggled as your hands tickled his torso, your fingers making their way down one button at a time. Before you could move it off his arms, Sam quickly lifted you off the ground as your legs wrapped around his waist. His hands squeezed your ass cheeks as you laughed. "Fuck baby, we gotta make this quick." He said as he tossed you onto the bed.

You bit your lip and nodded your head as Sam quickly moved to hover above you, reconnecting your lips again. The kisses were quick but filled with passion and desperation for one another. Sam moved as his head kissed from your lips, along your jaw, down your neck and back up to your lips again as a string of moans left your throat.

He suddenly lifted himself off you as he grabbed your laced panties, pulling them down fast as your legs quickly escaped them. Sam smirked down at you as he repositioned himself, his hands and lips exploring your whole body, "Sam... please." You squirmed beneath him.

Sam chuckled as he reached down, quickly undoing his trousers, not even bothering to take them off. He pulled them down slightly, just enough for him to pull his cock out. He teased your entrance as you both let out moans, "anything for you, Mrs Golbach." Sam said as he suddenly pushed himself inside of you. Your body arching off the bed as you both moaned out simultaneously. "Fuck..." Sam groaned lowly.

"Fuck baby." You moaned as your head threw back, Sam instantly hitting you with fast and hard thrusts. Sam's hands both reached for yours as he pulled your arms up and over your head, holding them in place by your wrists. His lips connected to yours as you both swallowed each other's moans.

"What's your name baby?" Sam smirked as he breathed heavily.

"Y/n..." you moaned out.

Sam picked up his pace, "no baby, what's your full name?" Sam said deeply as you felt that familiar knot forming in your stomach.

"Fuck- fuck...." You moaned loudly as your orgasm was inches away, your walls clenching around Sam's dick making him groan even deeper. "Y/n... go- Golbach!" You cried out.

"Fuck!" Sam began to pound into you as his dick began to twitch, "you're mine... forever." His voice was low and hoarse as he spoke. Your legs began to shake, "cum for your husband, baby." Sam demanded as your body exploded into ecstasy.

"Fuck, Sam!" You cried out as you came, your legs shaking uncontrollably as your entire body was filled with pleasure.

"Fuck yeah..." Sam groaned as he pounded harder a couple more times before a string of expletives left his mouth, his hot cum filling you up as he pushed himself as deep as he could into you.

You both breathed heavily as he lowly pulled out of you. You opened your eyes are you looked up at him, nothing but love in both of your hearts. "I love you." Sam said, his breath shaken.

You pulled his head down to kiss him softly, "I love you more." You whispered against his lips as you felt his lips turn into a loving smile.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You and Sam ran down the stairs, hand in hand and stood outside a huge set of wooden double doors. He quickly pulled you in one last time to kiss you deeply. As he pulled back he gave you a warm smile, "you ready baby?"

You giggled before fixing his hair slightly, "I'm more than ready."

Just as you replied you heard the echoing from the speakers as the DJ excitedly announced, "ladies and gentleman, I'm so happy to introduce, your bride & groom, the newly married couple, Mr & Mrs Golbach!"

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Authors note: I hope you liked this one! I thought it was so cute! My requests are open so let me know what you'd like to see! Xx

#sam and colby #smut #sam golbach #fanfiction #sam golbach smut #samgolbach #sam golbach dirty imagines #sam golbach imagines #propertyofyoutube #sam goldbach smut #sam x y/n #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach x reader #samgolbach dirty #samgolbachdirty #sam golbach x y/n

[earlgodwin]

here's another the borgias unpopular opinion: (what i'm about to say is a bit negative so look away if you don't wanna see it)

i pretty much never clicked with micheletto's character like...at all. no hate obviously, sean harris was great, and he had chemistry with françois arnaud, but the character is mostly a mystery—nothing i find intriguing or sympathetic about him, no layers at all. he just exists to be only cesare's obedient assassin. the only thing i found interesting about him was his episode with lucrezia where he killed the king ferdinand so she could bring her child with her. but the whole thing about how he has a heart somewhere, even though he claims he doesn't (i doubt he does since he literally flexed to cesare how he used to smother babies but alas), didn't even move me a little. plus maybe it's just me, but any trope about found family or anything similar has always been boring to me, as i'm obsessed with the idea of this dysfunctional family unintentionally hurting each other by expressing their love for each other in twisted ways and that they're incapable of escaping their father’s blood and his game of ambitions. so i'm pretty much not interested in anyone outside the borgia family

#like i'm sure others find him entertaining but definitely not me #in all fairness anyone's who's last name isn't borgia isn't interesting to me yk? #even françois said that cesare doesn't even consider him family and i was quite satisfied about that answer #the borgias #text post #jen's unpopular opinions

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.102 Negotiations

I thought about the whole money tree argument all night, and while I understood Sophia's concerns, it still didn't sit well with me. Dub's words from his note echoed in my head. "Financial freedom to pursue your dreams," he said. I knew she preferred to live a simple life, but didn't she have bigger dreams than just being married to me and raising our children? I heard the TV on, so I got up to address the topic again. My goal wasn't to change her mind—though I hoped she would—but to present my case coherently. I was blinded by the simoleons I didn't even have yet and failed to put a counteroffer on the table. If she could hear my thoughts, maybe she could see it in a different light.

"Good morning," I said.

"Have you ever seen this show? It's so fun!"

"Uhh...no. Can we talk?"

"Of course," she said, turning off the TV. "What's on your mind so early?"

"I want to revisit the money tree situation."

"Okay. Sure."

"You presented your reasons for limiting its use, but I don't think I did a good job explaining why I think we shouldn't, and I'd like you to hear what I think."

"Okay," she said slowly. "So, what's up?"

"You said it would be an insult to return the gift, but I think it would be an insult to ignore Dub's wishes."

Her eyebrow went up a little bit, but she was still tracking with me, so I went on.

"I understand your hesitation, but we don't have to let the money change anything about us. We can be ourselves, but with peace of mind and more opportunities. I think maybe your childhood is influencing how you're seeing this, but so is mine. I'm gonna tell you a different part of my story so you can see where I'm coming from."

"Sure."

"Okay..."

I took a deep breath and hoped my story would work some magic.

"You've been around my parents enough to know my mom is the one with the money."

"Yeah. That's obvious."

"Right. She spoiled us...she still does, heh. But we weren't spoiled brats. We had everything we needed, and a few things we wanted, but we didn't live extravagantly. We went to public school, wore regular clothes, and lived in a middle class neighborhood. For a long time, my mom had an office job. And even now, she still works her candle business. We weren't rich by any means. We were comfortable. I know this because when we went to my dad's house, it was not comfortable. He came home tired every day and didn't have the energy to spend time with us. He never took us anywhere, and there was nothing to do at his house-"

"But that's not what-"

"Wait. Let me finish. I haven't made my point yet."

"Okay. Sorry."

"My grandparents bought my mom a little house and gave her a chunk of money when she moved out so she could have peace of mind and time to explore the world and figure out what she wanted to do without the pressure of bills and working a job she hated."

Sophia nodded and smiled, giving me hope that my story already inspired her to change her mind.

"When we moved out, she did the same thing for us…except for the house, of course. It wasn't a ton of money, but I could have gotten a cheap apartment if I wanted to."

"Or a tiny house," she said, gesturing vaguely.

"Ha! Yeah, I could have afforded this. She's still taking care of us. I keep telling her she doesn't need to keep doing things for us, but all she says is when I have a child, I'll understand."

Sophia nodded.

"Yeah...I remember hearing her say that in Tartosa."

"Yeah... I may not have a child yet, but I do want to give it every opportunity I had and then some. I don't want it to worry and feel how we felt at my dad's house."

"I get that. I don't want that either."

"And what you said about your parents. They were older when they adopted you because it took forever to save the money. If we want to send off our children with a little something, we have to start saving now. We can't wait until a week before they're gone to start harvesting the tree. Maybe we don't take from it every day. Maybe just once or twice a week, or whenever we think about it. But just leaving the tree alone until we need it? That's not gonna give our children the kind of future I want them to have. I want to continue what my grandparents started. I don't think we should waste this opportunity."

She sat there, nodding and staring at me like she didn't realize I was done. But then she turned away, stared at the floor, and sighed.

"Wow... Your family history is filled with so much love and support."

I grabbed her hands, hoping to seal the deal and provide a little comfort.

"Yes. And you're part of that family now. I just want to continue the cycle. That's all. I don't want to start wearing labels and buy a big house in Del Sol. I just want to spend time with my family without consequence."

"I can't argue with that. I'm still not letting you give up on yoga, though."

I laughed. "I didn't expect you would."

"And to be clear," I continued, "I'm not gonna give up. I just don't want to be in a position where I'm still hustling and missing everything going on at home. You'll be here, so I know everything will be fine, but I want to be here too. I want our children to have all the benefits of living in a two-parent house."

"That's beautiful, Luca. I see the whole picture now. I've just decided I'm definitely not to going back to work."

I beamed at her.

"Really?? That's awesome! I love that for you."

"So, what do you think you'll do?"

"I don't know yet. I don't want to give up on teaching just yet, but I'll probably spend more time on SimTube. I have time to figure it out, though. Speaking of the hustle...I gotta go. I love you, Sophia. I love our life, and I can't wait to see how it turns out."

"I love you more!"

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar

[tvuniverse]

Listen i just want to preface this by saying I don't even personally hate Tommy, but that's not really the point i want to make so here goes nothing.

The way a lot of people act as if it's impossible to dislike him because the characters have moved on so so should we, right? and that's the thing right here, as poc we're always being told to move on. We can't express our feelings, we can't hold grudges, we can't complain about issues without making it something more than it is, we always have to just... move on.

I know people are going to say it's just a show, it's not that serious, but the issues it touches on and the way fandom speaks on those issues are.

I've seen a lot of comparisons between Tommy and other mains, how each of them are flawed and have screwed up one way or another, and you're right, but it's still unfair to compare him to them. We've seen each of the main characters experience guilt, or be ashamed of their action, we've seen them apologise, put in the work to actually grow, and they have. There's not enough time in an episode for us to see that for side characters. In this case, Tommy didn't do any of the above and that's normal, he was a plot device to show some very real societal issues, and especially what people of colour/women might go through in the workplace, and once he served his purpose he didn't get much more beyond a few scenes where it seemed like everything was fine between him and chim/hen. It would be more appropriate to compare him to the buckley parents, (who appeared in more or less the same amount of episodes) like if people suddendly started saying no one is allowed to hate them because they got their redemption, their kids more or less forgave them, they more or less tried to be better parents. And yet it's still not enough for a lot of people, because how they treated their children, the shit they've said to them, hits a little too close to home for a lot of people and so no matter what the show says or does, they'll still be mostly hated by the audience, and that's more than okay. But if margaret buckley is your favourite character than by all means be my guest. And listen, i love this show, it's all about hope, and it means everyone gets a redemption arc, as short as it is (sometimes even just a sentence lol), but we won't always be satisfied with these arcs, especially if they don't feel proportional to the hurt the characters may have caused to our mains, so we'll all have different reactions to them.

I swear liking a morally ambiguous/grey character says absolutely nothing about you, but making excuses for them, antagonising people who might dislike them (for good reasons) or acting like suddenly triggers don't exist for people, does say something about you. One of my favourite characters is literally the worst person ever, an actual bigot, but i won't ever write essays about why people are not allowed to dislike him actually because he's my babygirl.. i very much understand why people would.

All of this to say, everyone will have different opinions about Tommy. Some might love him, some will be completely neutral or at worst slightly uncomfortable/bothered by him, and some will straight up hate him, and all of these are fine. Live and let live, love whoever you want to love, and hate whoever you want to hate, but please stop trying to dictate how others should feel, i'm begging. And this really does go both ways.

#i never ever get involved in fandom discourse. ever #my blog is my safe space and so i just want to reblog some silly gifs of my silly little characters and move on about my day #but nothing gets to me more than being told to 'move on' #anyway i know the casual (and not so casual) racism is rampant in this fandom but boy has this week been hell #but just another week in this fandom i guess #(also i know some people hate him just because of buck/eddie and this is a whole other discourse i won't get into) #anti tommy kinard #not really but just in case #fandom discourse #also i said dehumanisation because that's what he did to chimney #acting like people don't exist until they do something that's beneficial to you and that's when you'll finally treat them as human beings #that shit hurts like crazy but it doesn't get talked about enough tbh #and that's also kind of why i think it's hard to know if he's really Grown or if it's just a case of 'these people are the exception' #and we can't really know until we actually see him interact with other minorities #but that's just my opinion #also i know we're all tired of this discourse and i'm sorry to bring it back but every day i've opened this app and saw something about it #and closed it right up lmao #i just needed to get this off my chest once and for all #i'll go back to never getting involved in fandom discourse again #anyhoo #i'll probably delete this at some point knowing myself

[upsidedog]

a little over a month after max ended things with lucas a girl in her spanish class aproched her and asked if “lucas sinclar” is single. apparently she thinks he’s cute and has seen them hanging out. “no, he isn’t single” is what max wants to say because if she sticks to her plan of mourning their relationship for the rest of high school so should he, even if max was the one who broke it off. but max is a good person so she says “yeah he’s single.” but not that good so she adds “he just got out of a relationship though, and he’s not over her” and since she’s already crossed that first line “i actually wouldn’t even try.”

max only lasts an hour or two before she feels so guilty she tells lucas there’s a girl in her spanish class that he should ask out cause she thinks he’s cute. lucas is a little offended that his ex is trying to play matchmaker on principle but also because he was sort of planning on mourning his and max’s relationship for the rest of high school

#stranger things #max mayfield #lumax #i honestly could’ve gotten a whole season of max and lucas on unstable kinda ‘bad’ terms i live for the drama #like i mean i could go into character analysis mode but it’s a holiday #i know in lucas on the line there was a girl at the party after the basketball game lucas thought was cute and i think if he had the time #it would’ve been healthy and normal to move on but also max would be eating drywall out of jealously #like obvi lucas would be doing nothing wrong they’ve been broken up but max deserves a little toxicicity she deserves to passive #aggressively ask what his new girlfriend’s high score in dig dug is then celebrate to herself when she says she doesn’t play video games bc #max is an awkward dork 15 y/o who thought a core reason why lucas liked her was because she would beat the hard arcade levels for him #max wants to be with him so bad but feels like a monster and she’s so in her grief she doesn’t even know how to ask for help so their #relationship is over even as max is still hanging on. conversely lucas has no clue what’s going on over than a vague idea - he wants to be #with max he wants to support max but he doesn’t know how and he also wants to feel normal and be cool and forget the past few years and max #is by far the most resentful of his attempts to leave the past behind because THATS WHERE SHES STUCK #i said i wouldn’t do analysis then i did. middle ground is i won’t rewrite it 2 not be a scrambled train of thought because it is a holiday

[thebleedingeffect]

.

#okay I'm talking in the tags of this post cause shit is happening in my life and I gotta talk about it somewhere #one part of it is my step brother crashing and burning before my very eyes and there's nothing I can do to stop his own destructive actions #so it's just me watching this poor kid ruin his relationships and blame everything and everyone around him as he does so #despite the fact that he's undeniably been treated horribly at times- he's just turned that anger back onto others and himself #and I have no idea what to feel as I watch him get arrested. have drug problems. because I'm just waiting for the inevitable spiral #it doesn't help that my mom has been comparing us and saying that I'm the much better child and she wishes he was like me #not understanding that I could’ve been him if I was just more angry at the world at that age instead of being so sad and scared #and that leads me to my fucking mom cause like- I love her. we've been through alot of bad shit with her #I've almost done some really bad shit for her and I know that she loves me more than anything else #but it feels like its been getting more and more suffocating cause I'm not sure she's able to start seeing me as an adult #and start loosening her grip around me and let me breathe. to have my own experiences without her by my side #to be able to go places and imagine a future without her constantly by my side #she talks and it's like she doesn't even think to wonder that perhaps I want to form my own experiences #and experience the world on my own terms because I feel like I've spent my whole life having so little damn control #religious family. shit and neglectful father who turned into the exact opposite and nearly killed me. family who refuses to listen and talk #having to move and run immediately. put survival above all else. go to school. get out. and god I just wanna breathe #she loves me so much and I love her too. but I feel like I'll be sooner crushed if I stick here for long enough #I'm just mad that my life has been nothing but absolutely no love. sudden waves of intense love. absolutely nothing. sudden spike #and I feel like I'm just finally starting to form good. healthy relationships on my own terms and actually make friends #because I had no idea what I was doing when I was a kid cause I was so fucking lonely and hurting #now I just. gotta figure out how to tell my mom that I can't carry this expectation that I'll continue to stay forever by her side #it just feels like I'm her child first and a person second. and it sucks. it really sucks. #ough. spins and spins and spins and spins-

[zemnarihah]

my best friend has been very distant w me lately and i asked today if she wanted to hang out and she said she probably couldn't bc it's her brothers birthday but she would let me know if she could and i have her location and i just looked and she's at her boyfriends house rn....

#we have it bc we're roomates so we started sharing locations when we first moved in like in case someone doesn't come home at night or smth #she recently told me that she wants to move out bc she has always wanted to live alone and she can finally afford it. and i asked her #directly like is there an issue because she is so non confrontational so she has never ever mentioned me doing anything that bothers her #and i said please tell me if there's something wrong because it would really suck if there was and i never got a chance to fix it because #you never told me. and she said no it has nothing to do with that i really just feel like it's time for me to live on my own. and a couple #days ago she was like okay i'm next in line for my apartment i'll probably move out in april. and i try to get her to hang out still and #she always has something else going on and i swear every night this week she's been at her boyfriends. #and if i see her around our apartment and try to make conversation at all she's so like short about it and barely responds like will only #give one word answers. i feel like it kind of started when i started dating e but i realized that i was spending less time with her and i #didn't want to be the girl that loses all my friends bc of a boyfriend so i started specifically reaching out to hang out with her and she #says no most of the time and never asks me. like i don't know what else i can do. #i'm like maybe it's bc of her boyfriend? bc they've been on again off again for a long time and previously when they were together it was #really distant with her like i barely saw her EVER. and they were mostly broken up for the past couple years and have been together i think #for a while again... but she knows i don't approve of that relationship and so she would like not say when they were talking again. so maybe #since lately they've been hanging out or dating or WHATEVER she doesn't fucking tell me what's going on with him. maybe that's why. #i literally like try to think of ways it could be my fault and maybe i'm being crazy but i cannot even think to blame myself for more than a #fleeting second bc i'm like. i have ASKED HER directly if there is an issue or something i do that bothers her and she says no. so even if #i'm somehow pissing her off would i ever know to change anything?? i just feel so frustrated bc it's like she's an entirely different person #to me. like this is not the person i know. and i don't know what else i could possibly do like i feel like we need to sit down and have a #conversation about it but what good does that do if she just acts like nothing is wrong. but i don't want to lose my friend i have such a #hard time making friends. i've known her since i was 14 like i can't imagine my life without her. we were the only two in our whole friend #group in high school to get out of the church i still love those other girls but we have so little in common now.