#I'm scheduling this for the first of the year

[sowerpatch]

terms of play [chapter 7 - in transition]

Summary: Azzi Fudd built the Golden Valkyries on a dare, but drafting Paige Bueckers was all strategy. Fresh off an NCAA title, Paige is everything the team needs—and everything Azzi shouldn’t want.

Officially, it’s all business. Unofficially, it’s glances that linger too long and touches that mean too much.

Author's note: this is an AU where Azzi owns the Golden State Valkyries and drafts Paige. Azzi's family are all original characters. Also, Azzi is three years older than Paige.

*CHAPTER LIST HERE*

Chapter Summary: Paige and Azzi said it was over.

Boundaries drawn, feelings shelved, rules in place. But with every game, every glance, every unexpected moment off the court, the line gets harder to hold. They agreed to stop, but how long can they mean it? Word count: 5,577 Author's note: first, I'd like to thank everyone for reading this fic. i'm overwhelmed but very happy with the comments, messages, and reactions. i didn't know a lot are reading this nonsense, but thank you! second (and you may not want to hear this), i may not update for a couple of weeks. i am going on a trip so i'm not sure i'll be able to do so. i hope you'll still want to read this if it's not frequently update until third week of july. third (if you're also reading my other on-going), unfolded will be updated but i also apologize it will not be that frequent due to the same reason above. thanks for supporting and reading my works.

Fudd Holdings, San Francisco. May 2025. 

The sky outside her windows had settled into its noon haze, but Azzi hadn’t looked up from her desk in hours. Her monitor cast a soft glow across the dark wood, spreadsheets opened and minimized in equal measure. Her fingers hovered over the trackpad, scrolling through a document she had already reviewed twice that morning. 

The knock on her door was brief. Nika stepped in without waiting for permission, balancing a takeout bag and two bottled teas in her hands. 

“I know you didn’t eat again,” Nika said as she shut the door behind her. “And I’m not letting you call a candy bar lunch.” 

Azzi sat back in her chair, one brow lifting. “You’re persistent.” 

“I work for a woman who hasn’t taken a real lunch break in ten days,” Nika replied, placing the food down. “Persistent is the bare minimum.” 

Azzi didn’t argue. She slid the papers to the side and reached for the tea, unscrewing the cap but not drinking yet. Across the desk, Nika opened the takeout containers with practiced ease. 

“How is your WNBA team?” Nika asked without looking up. “Season started last week.” 

Azzi didn’t flinch, though the pause before her answer was longer than usual. “Lisa’s handling things,” she said. “It’s her role as general manager, and she’s doing it well. I step in only if I'm needed.” 

Nika glanced up, reading more than what was said. “Good for her but that’s not the same as you supporting them.” 

“I’m busy.” 

“With what?” Nika didn’t soften her tone. “All deadlines are in. Contracts are locked through next quarter. We’re ahead of schedule with every major client. Even your advisory meeting next week was rescheduled by you.” 

Azzi set the tea down, untouched. 

“You’re not too busy to show your face at a home game, Azzi. And neither the team nor the city thinks you’re invisible. So if this is about being busy, I don’t buy it.” 

Azzi held her posture, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the window. But the pause spoke more than anything else. 

Nika watched her for another beat before easing back into her chair, unpacking a fork from its wrapper.  

“You don’t have to talk about it,” she said. “But don’t pretend like this is just scheduling. You’re not fooling anyone.” 

The room stretched between them, filled with paper, food, and the weight of everything unspoken. 

Azzi finally reached for the container, though she still hadn’t eaten a bite. Her voice stayed level, careful. “Lisa knows what she’s doing.” 

“Sure,” Nika said, spearing a piece of grilled chicken. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t still look for you.” 

-    Valkyries Headquarters, San Francisco. May 2025. 

Practice was nearly over, but Paige hadn’t slowed once. She moved through the drills like they were personal, like every missed shot meant something more than just another rep. Her jersey clung to her back, soaked through from the effort. While the rest of the team eased off, she kept pressing. 

“Okay, Paige, you trying to earn Finals MVP in practice?” Kate called, grabbing a towel from the bench. 

Paige gave a quick laugh. “Just keeping sharp.” 

Kiki, lounging near the sideline with her water bottle, chimed in without lifting her head. “If this is about Rookie of the Year, relax. I’m not trying to take it from you.” 

“I just want to do well. Don’t want to let the team down.” 

Kate tossed her towel over her shoulder and walked past. “You’re not. We’ve got your back. So maybe stop trying to bleed for every drill.” 

Paige nodded, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t even look toward the locker room when the others started filing out. She stayed at the three-point line, adjusted her stance, and kept shooting. 

The gym thinned out, noise fading as bodies left the floor. Lights still buzzed overhead. The sound of the ball hitting the rim echoed louder in the emptying space. 

One more shot. Then another. She moved like she could outwork the ache settling deep in her chest. 

- 

Barclays Center, Brooklyn. June 2025. 

The arena buzzed with rising energy. Lights swept across the court, catching on polished shoes and tailored jackets. Courtside filled with the usual rotation of executives, celebrities, and carefully groomed donors. 

Azzi sat quietly among them, legs crossed, her posture composed. Ines sat on one side, Tony on the other. Neither drew attention. 

Three nights earlier, New York liberty owner, Clara Wu had attended the foundation’s gallery fundraiser uptown.  

Toward the end of the event, in the space between polite farewells and final handshakes, Clara had asked if Azzi would be attending the Liberty vs Valkyries game. It hadn’t sounded like pressure, but Azzi understood the subtext. Clara rarely asked for anything directly. 

Azzi had smiled and said yes. She didn’t want to appear distant or detached, not while her team was in town, not so early in the season. By the next morning, Ines had secured the only tickets still available.  

Courtside, unfortunately. 

Across the floor, the Valkyries were already deep in warmups, moving through drills with controlled intensity.  

Paige stayed near the top of the arc, locked into rhythm, her eyes focused straight ahead. If she noticed Azzi’s presence, she didn’t show it.    The game had turned brutal in rhythm and pace.  

The Liberty held a five-point lead, and the crowd rode every possession like a wave, roaring with each defensive stop and every made shot. Bodies hit the floor more often now. Elbows flared. Timeouts were used sparingly. 

Paige moved with urgency. Her focus locked on the ball like nothing else existed. Sweat clung to her temples, her movements crisp and tight, no motion wasted.  

When a tipped pass ricocheted off a defender’s arm and spun wildly toward the sideline, she didn’t hesitate. 

She dove. 

The hardwood scraped beneath her as she slid forward, arms reaching, hands wrapping around the ball just before it could bounce out of bounds. But her momentum kept going. Her body skidded past the line, straight toward the courtside seats. 

She crashed at Azzi’s feet, shoulder brushing against her legs before she caught herself. 

“Shit—sorry,” Paige breathed, looking up. Her voice came low and rushed, all heat and adrenaline. 

Azzi’s eyes met Paige’s, calm and unreadable. 

For a second, the noise in the arena blurred behind them. 

Then the whistle blew. Paige scrambled up, tossed the ball to a teammate, and jogged back onto the court. 

Azzi didn’t look away right away. The faint trace of contact lingered in her skin. But her face gave nothing back. 

-    Team bus on the way to the airport, New York. June 2025.  

The internet had caught fire. 

Clips of Paige diving out of bounds and crashing at Azzi’s feet spread across every platform.  

Slow-motion edits looped the way Paige looked up at her, the brief glance that passed between them, the stillness of Azzi’s expression.  

Screenshots froze the frame at just the right second, turning a routine hustle play into something cinematic. 

Fans called it poetic. Dramatic. Predictable in the way only stories you couldn’t write better in fiction tended to be. 

“This is gay history,”  

“She literally landed at her feet. You cannot make this shit up.” 

“It’s giving princess and her knight,” another caption declared beneath a still of Paige on the floor, Azzi seated above her, untouched, statuesque. 

#ValkyriesCourtship alongside #PrincessAndTheHooper trended before the fourth quarter highlights even aired. 

Even sports media picked it up. A panel segment ran on afternoon television, showing side-by-side clips with commentary that couldn’t resist the subtext.  

ESPN headlined it “better than anything on Netflix.” 

Paige had seen enough of it by the time she reached the team bus. Her phone hadn’t stopped buzzing, but she left it face down on the bench.  

Kiki had sent her the clip with three crying emojis and “Oscar-worthy fall.” 

Kate pulled up another edit as she sat beside Paige, this one layered with a ballad and a dramatic fade to black. 

“You good?” 

“It was just a save.” 

“Sure. You threw yourself at the sideline like a knight charging into battle and landed at Miss Fudd's feet like you meant to bow.” 

Paige adjusted her hoodie without answering. 

Behind them, Kiki laughed. 

“She’s blushing.” 

She didn’t turn around. If she was, she wasn’t giving them the satisfaction. 

- 

The Venetian Resort, Las Vegas. June 2025. 

Las Azzi stared at her calendar, one hand pressed to her temple, the other resting over her laptop’s trackpad. The confirmation email sat open in front of her, clear as day. 

She leaned back slowly in her chair, eyes narrowing. 

There was no way this wasn’t deliberate. 

The Valkyries were playing the Aces. In Las Vegas. Tonight. And somehow, despite the number of ways she had tried to avoid repeating last week’s coincidence, here she was again. Same city. Same schedule. Same team. 

She remembered Nika casually handing off the file three days ago. Something about a last-minute scheduling conflict, how the developers were pushing for face time, how it made sense for Azzi to take. At the time, it hadn’t sounded strange. 

Now it did.    Another email which held two tickets to the game had found its way to Azzi.    Right. 

It wouldn’t look good if she didn’t show up to the game. Not when people knew she was in the city. 

If Nika and Ines had planned this, they weren’t going to admit it. But Azzi knew them both too well.  

She should have seen this coming. 

- 

Michelob ULTRA Arena, Las Vegas. June 2025. 

The game was tight. The Aces pushed in transition, fast and aggressive, but the Valkyries kept pace, sharp in their switches and relentless on the glass. The score stayed close, every possession carrying weight. 

Azzi sat still through it all. Close enough to feel the vibrations under her heels. She didn’t react. Didn’t lean in. Just watched. 

Paige was everywhere. Fighting through screens, calling switches, sinking shots like she was burning through something no one else could see. She didn’t slow down. She didn’t ease up. 

When she hit a three just outside the arc, her eyes searched briefly beyond the baseline. 

Azzi met the look. 

The moment was brief. The game pressed forward.  

- 

The Venetian Resort, Las Vegas. June 2025. 

The machine clinked quietly as Paige pressed the button again. Lights blinked. Nothing hit. She reached into the cup and slid another coin in. 

The Valkyries had pulled off the win. A tight, scrappy six-point finish that left the Aces frustrated and the bench breathing hard. 

Paige had smiled when she needed to. Nodded during the interviews. Let her teammates pull her into the photo. But once it was done, she slipped out early and didn’t look back. 

She found herself now hunched at a forgotten corner of the casino floor, staring through the slot machine like it owed her an answer she couldn't phrase. 

A pause behind her, then Azzi’s voice. 

“You know I’m not paying you to lose your money on a stupid machine.”    Paige slid in another coin and pressed the button, not bothering to turn around. The reels spun and missed again. 

“I know you’re ignoring me,” Azzi continued. “And I deserve that. But I wanted to say congratulations. You were great tonight.” 

Paige’s eyes stayed on the machine. “Hm, ‘s that all?”     Azzi wanted to say more. To sit down, to explain, to ask for something she hadn’t figured out how to name yet. 

She stood there for a moment, unsure if she should say more or walk away. The noise around them was constant—machines whirring, voices rising and falling, the usual chaos of a casino floor. It wasn’t the right place for this type of conversation.    “Yes. Have a good night, Paige.” 

Azzi moved through the casino without looking back, weaving past clusters of tourists and cocktail servers until she reached the elevators.  

One had just arrived. She stepped inside, pressed her floor, and leaned back against the wall as the doors began to close. 

A hand shot through at the last second. 

The doors jerked open. 

Paige stood there, a little breathless, eyes steady. She stepped in without asking and let the doors slide shut behind her. 

“D'you already have dinner?” 

Azzi shook her head. 

Paige glanced at the buttons, then back at her. 

“Wanna order room service with me?”    - 

The coffee table was a mess of wrappers and half-crumpled napkins. Paige leaned back into the couch, one leg tucked under the other, working through the last of the fries like it was a timed competition. 

Azzi watched from the armchair, equal parts fascinated and horrified.  

She had offered a quiet space for their impromptu dinner since Kiki was already asleep in Paige's room. 

Paige had inhaled three burgers in under fifteen minutes and was now making quick work of the fries without so much as a breath. 

Azzi reached for her untouched sandwich, glanced at it, then looked back at Paige. 

“Do you want mine too?” 

Paige didn’t even pause. “What is it?” 

“That was sarcasm.” 

“You’re gonna need to be more specific if food’s involved.” 

Azzi shook her head, sinking deeper into the chair. “I’m genuinely alarmed.” 

“You’ve seen me play,” Paige said through a mouthful of fries. “How is this surprising?” 

“You didn’t unhinge your jaw during the game.” 

Paige grinned, tossed a fry in the air, and caught it with her mouth.  

Azzi sighed and reached for the water bottle on the table but didn’t drink. Her gaze lingered on Paige, still working through the fries like nothing in the world could distract her. 

“You’ve been playing really well lately,” she said. “The last few games especially.” 

Paige slowed her chewing just a little. “Oh.” 

Azzi smiled. 

“I mean, thanks. I didn’t know you were watching.” 

There was a pause. Azzi could have let it pass, could have deflected or changed the subject, but the quiet between them felt too close to something real to lie through. 

“I haven’t missed a game,” she said. “Even if I’m not there, I watch. Every one of them.” 

Paige blinked, then looked down, a trace of pink blooming along her cheeks as she reached for another fry she clearly didn’t need. 

Sitting with her hands loosely clasped in her lap, Azzi’s eyes fixed on the untouched sandwich beside her. The weight between them had been there the whole night, carefully unspoken, but now it pressed harder, closer.    “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For what happened. For how it happened. It wasn’t fair to you. If I could take it back... I would.” 

Paige didn’t answer right away. She wiped her hands clean with a napkin, taking her time, then leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. 

“I don’t regret kissing and making out with you that night,” she said.  

Azzi finally looked at her. 

“I only regret putting you in a position. You were already carrying too much, and I pushed you when I should’ve backed off. That’s on me.” Her voice dropped. “I’m sorry for that.” 

Azzi shook her head slowly, the words already forming before Paige could say anything more. “No. Paige, I was the one who kissed you.” 

“And I kissed you back.” 

Azzi looked away, lips pressed together for a moment before she spoke again. 

“I let my emotions get the best of me. That night... I wasn’t thinking clearly.” 

“That’s exactly my regret,” Paige leaned back slightly, eyes holding firm. “I didn’t stop to think what you were going through. I shouldn’t have let it go that far when I knew you weren’t steady.”    She stood up abruptly. “God! Azzi, you just had to deal with your brother that night and all I could think was myself and my stupid ego.”    Azzi’s brow lifted, disbelief flickering across her face. 

“You’ve really been carrying this like it’s on you?” 

"Well...” 

Azzi motioned to the couch. “Sit down.” 

Paige hesitated but did as she was told, settling into the cushion with a quiet breath. 

“Listen,” Azzi started, her tone even but not cold. “I don’t know why you’re blaming yourself, but don’t. And if it makes you feel better, I appreciate your thoughts about me. It’s been a long time since anyone’s cared enough to think about what I’m feeling.” 

She paused, eyes fixed forward. 

“But I’m not going to lie. We’re re-opening something we shouldn’t cross again.” 

Paige sat still, her body tight, listening. 

“We started on the wrong path, Paige. And if we keep walking it, it’s going to lead both of us somewhere we won’t come back from. Whatever this was, we can’t keep going. There’s too much at stake. Not just for me. For you too.” 

Paige kept her gaze on the floor, jaw tight. The words weren’t new. Not really. She had imagined this conversation too many times—Azzi choosing control over closeness, reason over feeling. But now that it was happening, the actual weight of it pressed in deeper than she expected. 

She had been holding on to guilt, turning it over in her head like a stone she thought she could smooth down if she just kept at it long enough. But hearing Azzi say it out loud, the finality of her tone, made it clear that nothing she’d been carrying would change the ending. 

Still, it stung. 

It stung to be told they had started on the wrong path when it had been the only one that felt right. 

She nodded slowly, barely. 

“Okay,” she said, though it didn’t feel like one. 

- 

Valkyries HQ, San Francisco. May 2025. 

The Valkyries were rolling. Eleven wins, three losses. The best start of any expansion team in league history. Their chemistry was sharp, execution cleaner with every game, and the league had started paying attention. 

Paige was a headline regular now. Her stats held weight, her plays made highlight reels, and the noise around her name had shifted from hopeful to certain. Rookie of the Year wasn’t just possible—it was probable. 

All-Star voting opened with her name already at the top of the ballots. 

She felt it, the momentum. The lift of it. Practices ran smoother, her body felt lighter, even the travel days didn’t drag. 

But that talk in Las Vegas hadn’t left her. 

Azzi hadn’t shown up to a game since. Not once. Not even for the home stands. 

The gym had emptied out over an hour ago, but Paige was still there, catching her own rebounds, the steady rhythm of the ball echoing through the quiet space. Her body moved on instinct—one dribble, two, rise, release. Net. Repeat. 

She wasn’t tired. Not enough to stop. 

The sound of the door clicking open didn’t pull her attention right away. Only when footsteps drew closer did she finally glance toward the baseline. 

Azzi stood just inside, arms crossed, the faintest trace of something amused in her voice. 

“Practice ended a while ago. If you’re staying this long, I should start charging you gym maintenance.” 

Paige caught the ball and held it. Her breathing slowed as she turned to face the person living rent free in her head for the past couple of months. 

She let the ball rest against her hip, then spun it slowly in one hand. 

“I don’t want to slack,” she said. “We’re on a five-game win streak. Last thing I need is my boss getting mad I’m not putting it all out there.” 

She looked up, a flicker of something teasing behind her eyes. 

“Last I heard, she never misses watching our games.” 

Azzi scoffed, stepping forward without hesitation. She plucked the ball from Paige’s hand like it belonged to her.    “You really think flattery’s going to make me overlook the fact that you’re hogging the gym?” 

Paige grinned and walked backward toward the free throw line, holding out her hand, shrugging. “If I said I was staying late to honor the legacy of the franchise, would that make it better?” 

Azzi turned the ball slowly in her hands. “It might make it worse.” 

Paige laughed, stepping back with a bounce in her step. “I’m just trying to keep the lights on. You know, making sure your multi-million dollar floor space stays in good use.” 

“I should charge you rent.” 

“Add it to my contract,” Paige said, motioning toward the court. “Tell you what. You make one shot, I’ll clear out.” 

Azzi tilted her head. “You think I’m just going to embarrass myself for your amusement?” 

“I think you’re dying to see if you can make one,” Paige said, voice low and teasing. “Come on. You’re standing on the floor of your own team’s gym, and you’ve never even taken a shot?” 

Azzi stared at her for a long second, then shook her head and let out a sigh. 

“You’re relentless.” 

Paige grinned and walked toward the free throw line, tossing the ball up and catching it. “One shot. I promise I won’t tell the world. Unless it’s perfect.” 

Azzi followed her slowly, arms folded. 

“This is ridiculous.” 

“This is team bonding.” 

“You’re not my team.” 

“I’m your headache. Close enough.” 

Azzi let out a breath, finally taking the ball back. “Fine. But I’m blaming you when this ruins my reputation.” 

Paige stepped in, already adjusting her grip. “If anything, this is gonna make it better.”    Azzi stared at the hoop like it was challenging her. She adjusted her grip on the ball, stepped awkwardly toward the free throw line, and squared her shoulders like she had watched athletes do a hundred times from the sidelines. 

She launched. 

It left her fingers too flat, spinning awkwardly in the air before clanking off the front rim and bouncing back with a dull thud. 

Paige bit her lip, then broke into a jog to chase it down before it rolled out of bounds. 

“That was…” She paused, dribbling the ball once. “A very brave attempt.” 

Azzi crossed her arms, unimpressed. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it.” 

“I’m not.” Paige grinned. “I’m saying you’re clearly an expert at hitting the exact part of the rim that guarantees it won’t go in.” 

She walked the ball back, but instead of handing it over, she stopped in front of Azzi and held it with one hand. Her voice dropped, softer this time, and something in her face shifted. 

“Let me show you.” 

Azzi hesitated, watching her closely. There was no mocking now. Paige’s grin had settled into something quieter. Not serious, but careful. Like she was trying not to move too quickly through a moment that meant more than it should. 

She nodded once. 

Paige stepped closer, placing the ball in Azzi’s hands again, but this time kept hers there too. She adjusted Azzi’s grip gently, her thumbs brushing over Azzi’s knuckles. 

“Right here. Let your shooting hand sit under the ball. Other hand just helps guide it.” 

Azzi didn’t look at the hoop. She looked at Paige. Their hands were tangled around the ball, Paige’s fingers warm and steady. Close enough to feel her breath when she spoke again. 

“You don’t need to force it. Let it roll off your fingers. It’s about rhythm. Trust.” 

Azzi swallowed hard. 

“Trust the shot?” 

Paige’s eyes met hers. “Trust yourself.” 

The gym felt too quiet. Just the creak of sneakers on polished wood and the low hum of lights above. Paige stepped behind her, setting her palms lightly on Azzi’s elbows, guiding them into position. 

“Bend your knees a little. Keep your elbow under the ball.” 

Azzi followed. The motion was stiff, but she listened. 

Paige leaned in, voice at her ear. “Now lift it slow. Let it go at the top.” 

Azzi raised her arms and released. The ball floated, not perfect, but cleaner. It hit the backboard and bounced toward the rim before falling away. 

Better. 

Azzi turned to look at her, something flickering in her eyes. Not frustration. Something else. A heat she didn’t name. 

“That was almost good,” Paige said. 

“Almost?” 

“I think you need another lesson.” 

-    Paige’s apartment, Oakland. June 2025.  

The apartment was dark except for the soft glow of Paige’s phone. She was sprawled on the couch, one leg tucked under her, the other stretched toward the armrest. Her hair was damp from a shower, and there was a half-finished protein shake on the coffee table. 

Her thumbs tapped quickly. 

Paige: You looked good last night.  Paige: But I still think your hair looked better during draft night. 

She attached a photo. 

It was Azzi, polished and poised, walking into a real estate conference. Hair pulled back in a sleek twist, dressed in a charcoal pantsuit that made her look every inch the power executive Twitter loved to obsess over. 

Azzi: Where did you get this? 

Paige answered before the read receipt even registered. 

Paige: Internet. You’re famous, remember? 

Azzi exhaled through her nose, typing slowly. 

Azzi: Are you stalking me now? 

Paige: Maybe.  Paige: Just enough to form an opinion about your hairstyles. 

Azzi: And here I thought you were too busy chasing Rookie of the Year. 

Paige: I multitask. 

Azzi sat up straighter in bed, the corners of her mouth betraying the start of a smile. 

Azzi: You really liked my hair that night? 

Paige: I like a lot of things when it comes to you.  Paige: Want a list? 

Azzi hesitated.  

Azzi: I’m scared of that list. 

Paige: You should be. It’s long. 

Azzi: Paige. 

Paige: Azzi. 

Azzi: I thought we weren’t doing this. 

Paige: You texted back.  Paige: So maybe you’re doing it too. 

There was a pause. Paige watched the typing bubble appear and disappear three times. Then finally: 

Azzi: Goodnight, Paige. 

Paige stared at it. Then sent one more message without thinking. 

Paige: I still like your hair better down. 

She set her phone down beside her, the softest grin tugging at her mouth as she leaned back into the couch. 

While Azzi lay still in the dark, phone on her chest, heartbeat louder than it should be. She didn’t reply again. But she didn’t stop reading it either. 

-  

Rocco's Cafe, San Francisco. June 2025. 

The clink of glass against ceramic filled the space between them. Afternoon light poured through the tall windows of the restaurant, the kind of place Nika always picked—unassuming, elegant, with an outdoor view that cost more than it looked. Azzi sat across from her, shoulders relaxed, her phone turned face down for once. 

Nika stirred her espresso, eyes flicking to the plate Azzi had barely touched. 

“Westlake signed,” she said. “The rezoning permits came in yesterday.” 

Azzi nodded, lifting her glass. “Good. I want the contractors briefed by Friday. We’ll reroute phase three if they can’t break ground in time.” 

“They will.” Nika took a sip, then leaned back in her chair. “What about the Dallas project? Still holding?” 

Azzi glanced past her toward the window. “We’re waiting on final numbers. But I’m not rushing that one. The board will push if I give them a reason.” 

A beat passed, comfortable and slow. Nika tilted her head, her voice quieter. 

“How are you?” 

“I’m fine?” 

“You’re more than fine.” 

Azzi looked at her confused. 

Nika smiled, sharp but kind. “You’ve been smiling. Laughing. You even left the office before seven last week.” 

Azzi raised an eyebrow, daring Nika to continue. 

“You’re glowing.” 

She shook her head, but her mouth twitched like it wanted to smile. 

“And forgive me, but I have a feeling Jake’s not the reason.”  

Nika lifted her cup with a knowing tilt, like she was letting Azzi keep her secret while quietly reminding her it wasn’t all that well hidden. 

-  San Francisco International Airport, San Francisco. June 2025. 

Azzi reread the message from the Valkyries’ training staff, the words sharp in their precision.  

Concussion protocol.  

Paige had been pulled from practice following a hit during the game against Indiana two nights ago. 

Azzi had watched that game from a bar in Dallas, her tablet propped up between half-finished cocktails and development briefs. The meeting with local contractors had stretched past dinner.  

Her flight home today was late and quiet, and somewhere over the Rockies, exhaustion claimed her. 

The message hadn’t registered until she was standing outside Terminal 2, luggage beside her, the San Francisco air cutting through her blazer. She scrolled absently while waiting for the car. 

Another text sat beneath the first.  

Let us know if you’d like to see the medical report. 

She didn’t reply right away. Headlights pulled up. The town car stopped cleanly at the curb. 

She typed her reply. 

Not necessary. 

Tony stepped out, moved to the trunk. Azzi got in without a word. The door closed with a soft click, and the city hummed low around them. 

She stared straight ahead.    Thinking.    More thinking.    “Tony, we’re making a detour.” 

-    Paige’s apartment, Oakland. June 2025. 

Paige blinked, hard, like it would help make sense of the shape in front of her. 

Azzi stood at the doorway, calm as ever, hair tucked neatly behind one ear, as if she belonged there. She hadn’t called. Hadn’t messaged. 

And now Azzi was stepping inside like she hadn’t just knocked a minute ago, like being let in meant she belonged there. 

Paige raised an eyebrow. “You know, knocking doesn’t mean you get to just walk in like it’s your office.” 

Azzi took two more steps in, ignoring the comment entirely. 

“You’re in concussion protocol,” she said. “I got the update this morning.” 

“I—what? Wait, how do you even—” Paige closed the door slowly. “You’re not even on the medical distribution list.” 

“I don’t need to be.” 

“Okay. Cool. Great. Love the vague billionaire surveillance energy,” Paige muttered. “That’s definitely what every injured rookie wants.” 

Azzi raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “I didn’t hack into anything, if that’s what you’re implying.” 

Paige snorted. “You didn’t have to. One look from you and half the staff probably tripped over themselves to send an update.” 

“I asked, they answered.” 

“Right. Because that’s totally normal. Just your average team owner flying across the country to check on a player with a bump to the head.” 

“I’m not your average team owner,” Azzi’s gaze didn’t waver. “And it wasn’t just a bump.” 

Paige’s breath hitched before she could hide it.  

She tried to mask it with sarcasm. “So what now? Are you here to run your own tests? Gonna flash a penlight in my eyes, ask me who the president is?” 

"Would you answer if I did?” 

“Depends,” Paige said, voice lower now. “Are you gonna tell me why you really came?” 

Azzi didn’t look away. “Does it matter?” 

“It does if you want to keep pretending this is just about basketball.” 

“Paige.”    “Azzi.” 

Azzi exhaled, slow and tired. “I was worried.” 

Paige stepped closer, the tension in her shoulders softening as she reached out and cupped Azzi’s face with both hands. 

“I’m fine,” she said gently. “You don’t have to worry.” 

Azzi didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed on Paige, and before she realized it, she was leaning into the warmth of that touch, drawn by something quieter than reason. 

Paige moved in without rushing, her hands sliding down until they rested on Azzi’s waist. She pulled her in, carefully, like she didn’t want to spook her. Their bodies met in a slow, steady hold. 

Azzi let herself be held. 

“Didn’t we agree we need to stop this?” Azzi’s voice was soft, but the weight behind it settled between them. 

"I only agreed half-heartedly.” 

Azzi rolled her eyes and gave her a light smack on the arm. Paige caught her wrist before she could pull away, grinning. 

“Let’s just have this night, please.” Paige said, voice lowered to something more honest. “We don’t have to do anything. I miss you.” 

There was a pause, then a quiet mumble from Azzi. “I miss you too.” 

Paige wrapped her in a hug, slow but firm, the kind that said more than words could carry. She held Azzi tightly, grounding herself in the contact, in the relief of having her this close again. 

“How was your flight?” she asked after a moment, still not letting go. 

Azzi answered once they finally pulled back, their fingers laced. “Long. Delayed twice. I hated every second.” 

“Stay the night,” Paige said without thinking. 

Azzi blinked. Her body stilled. “Paige—” 

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Paige added quickly. “We both need rest. That’s all. Just... don’t leave.” 

Azzi hesitated for only a beat, then reached for her phone. She typed out a message to Tony to go home without her. 

Paige disappeared for a moment and came back with a folded UConn sweatshirt and matching joggers. “You’ll look better in these than I ever did.” 

Azzi gave her a look, took the clothes, and changed in the bathroom. When she emerged, the room was dim, Paige already under the covers. 

She climbed in, the air between them thick with hesitation. They left a small space between their bodies, but not for long. 

“Come here, ma,” Paige said, voice almost teasing. 

Azzi didn’t bother pretending. She folded into Paige’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. 

“I’m only doing this because of your concussion protocol,” she murmured. 

Paige laughed, the sound low and grateful. “If it means I get to have you like this, I’ll bang my head every day.” 

Azzi let out a quiet laugh of her own, her breath brushing against Paige’s neck. 

Paige pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for coming. And for checking on me.”    “We’re so bad at stopping this.” 

[letloverule1111]

FanFic Share "Challenge"--What are the last 5 fanfics you've read that you LOVE?

HI--this is my post from reddit...sharing it here because I really want to know what y'all are reading!

I'm always looking to discover wonderful fanfics and I soooooo many fics that I love have come from suggestions here! So I want to play a fun "challenge" (challenge isn't really the right word for this but we're going to use it anyway, k?)

HERE'S WHAT TO DO:

Go to your History

Starting from your most recent read scroll back and note fanfics you've LOVED...(meaning, if in your 5 most recent fics you've read you've only truly LOVED 3 of them then keep scrolling back until you have 5!)

When you have 5 of them, list them/link them here!

I'll start!!!

Just Like North by anincompletelist (soldouthaz) This is a Maze Runner au. I have personally never read or watched Maze Runner but trust me, the writing and story telling is SO GOOD that it won't matter. If you like dystopic future/badass Alex fics YOU WILL LOVE THIS!

love thorns all over this rose by theprinceandagcd  @theprinceandagcd HOLY SHIT. This fic killed me in all the best ways. The writing is amazing. It will tear your heart apart before it is put back together so if you like angst, READ THIS IMMEDIATELY. Alex thinks he's incapable of being a good boyfriend due to a past experience--together with his "not good enough" stuff this is a potent combo. So when he hooks up with Henry, he makes it clear it is just sex and friendship...of course, Alex is a tortured soul...you guys--this fic is so good and my summary is lame...just trust me--EXCELLENT.

all i wanted (was you) by ksmalltalk Author's summary: It's been nearly a decade since exes Henry and Alex have last seen or heard from each other. After one unexpected night of reuniting thanks to the meddling of their mutual friend, the pair find that neither time nor circumstance can stop their flame from rekindling. With the complications of Henry's marriage to another man and his scheduled return to London looming, the two must navigate life's difficulties as they grapple with what a possible future could mean for them. NOTE: the epilogue hasn't been posted yet but no reason to think it won't be. This is a reliable poster. AND even if the epilogue never gets posted, the story is complete and SO SO SO WORTH READING!

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) by kiwiana  @kiwiana-writes Dare I say, one of the absolute best fics in our fandom. This is actually a re-read I did. Author's summary: Alex is a former child star struggling to make the transition into being seen as a serious actor. He jumps at an opportunity to perform on stage in the UK, seeing it as a way to break free from the typecasting and show what he can really do. But he wasn’t prepared to star alongside someone he hates. // Henry is a recent theatre graduate who accepts an amazing role in a queer reimagining of Much Ado About Nothing. And then it turns out his co-star is none other than the man he’s been hopelessly pining after for years—even though Henry made a terrible first impression when they met. // It’s… well, it’s practically Shakespearean.

Breathing In, Breathing Out by smc_27 One of the best writers in our fandom, I believe. Author's summary: He can’t believe just when he started to get the sense he actually knew what he was doing, Henry would pull this. Like, as far as Alex knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s on time for dates and he calls when he says he will. He remembers what Henry likes to eat and what his favourite drink is. He doesn’t watch movies alone that he thinks will be fun to watch together. He tries not to be distracting when they’re supposed to be studying.

He’s been thinking of Henry as his boyfriend in his head for like two weeks now.

Worrying Henry’s been lying about how much he likes this - how much he likes Alex - fucking hurts.

Okay! I can't wait to see what you've been reading (that you love)!!!! Yay! Thanks for playing!

BONUS--CURRENT READ IS

Bluebonnets and Polo Mallets by Chamel. @cha-melodius. Another one of the best writers in the fandom. Fic is a WIP but WILL get posted to completion. If you ever wanted to know what would happen when Polo player, Henry, and Rodeo star, Alex, meet up...this is your fic. SO GOOD!

[lara635kookie]

Rujinu Relationship Headcanons:

• So this happens after canon

• Jinu comes back, and as demons are not under Gwi-ma's control anymore, they don't steal souls as much

• Because they don't need it

• A few of them do and the girls just deal with them easily

• But the Saja Boys are back as just idols who don't steal souls even though they are still demons

• The move at Idol Awards and Namsan Tower is seen by the fandom of both groups as a big storyline collab to promote the Saja Boys's first comeback after they debuted with Soda Pop (Your Idol), and the Huntrix's first full album (How It's Done is their debut) (The album single is What It Sounds Like and Golden and Takedown are b-sides, Takedown being one of those songs the girls never perform)

• It works

• Both Your Idol and the girls entire album chart like it's easy

• Tons of PAK's (Perfect All Kill)

• And a lot of streams in all global platforms

• Because the whole world is literally taking turns hearing one song and then hearing the other

• While the Internet goes crazy over Zoeystery and Miromabby too, they go CRAZIER over Rujinu

• We know in real life people would be sending death threats and trucks in protest to the labels

• But I'm inspiring Rumi and Jinu in one case that South Korea actually supported them

• Supported them so much they ended because the midia didn't leave them alone and they had no privacy

• If you know Kpop, you know who they are, but I'm not going to say it just so people don't think I'm hating on any of them

• Rumi and Jinu wouldn't have this problem with the midia because Rumi hid her marks for years and the Saja Boys still hide the fact that they are demons pretty well

• So they would be pros at avoiding paparazzi, etc

• They would only give to the midia enough about them

• But after Jinu came back, they didn't immediately get together as one might think

• Rumi gave Jinu his soul back so he can be truly free by owning his own soul instead of his soul being owned by Gwi-ma or by her

• Rumi told everything that happened between Jinu and her to Mira and Zoey, but in a way to hide the fact she's in love with him

• The only thing she didn't mention was Free

• After all that was their song, and a romantic duet would give her feelings away and a lot of room for teasing

• The thing is Rumi and Jinu are clueless and dumb af

• They clearly like each other, everyone can see it, but they just won't do anything about it

• They are both the leaders and main vocals in their respective groups, they have the same age (to the fans), they both had an alluring beauty, etc

• So the things they had in common just made the fans become obsessed with them

• And they gave reasons to

• The "discreet" looks and little smiles at events were all there

• When they became MCs together for Music Bank, the world became a better place

• Their first MC Stage was Soda Pop (In Dolphin by Soobin and Arin and Butter by Wonyoung and Sunghoon style) and their last MC Stage was Your Idol (but they performed Huntrix's songs during their time on the show, and they became the k-pop idol duo to stay there for the longest time and they just had to leave because of their schedule and the producers just kept begging them to stay, but in the end they hosted it for one year and one month)

• In Award shows, every time the other was performing and the camera would focus on one of them, their eyes would glow, and they would sing and make little dances and then try to disguise it

• One time, a male host at an award show was asked by the female host, which groups or kpop singers he liked the most

• He answered:"I listen to TWICE, Meovv and... Saja Boys, and personally I am a fan of HUNTR/X's Rumi"

• The Saja Boys were standing at a corner waiting for the announcement of the winners, and Jinu's face is just covered in pure and sheer jealousy looking at that host on stage

• Romance cracks up in laughter

• Baby just smiles and looks at Jinu like he knows what's up

• Mystery lets a chuckle escape

• Abby trying not to laugh even whispers on Jinu's ear:"Remember, we don't steal souls anymore, buddy" and gives him a little punch on his back and friendly wraps his arms around his shoulders in a way to hold him to make sure he wouldn't attack the poor guy

• When they are announced as the winners, Jinu stays behind Abby all the time

• In a way it makes it impossible for the male host to reach him to shake his hands, only shaking hands with the female host and making it look like an accident

• In another award show, Jinu, that will be in a k-drama as the male lead for the first time, has a surprise performance with the lead actress to promote the drama

• When the performance is announced, Rumi immediately tries to contain a little smile

• "Jinu solo performance, I'll enjoy this" She thinks

• Then the lead actress appears, and her smile is gone, but she tries to keep a professional face

• It was the first time Jinu sang alone with another woman that wasn't her

• And God, didn't she hate every second of it

• The idea of Jinu singing a romantic duet with another girl was almost too much to bear

• The performance ends with an almost kiss (who was a planned part of the performance of course)

• Rumi has to drink lots of water to calm down and see if her face becomes less red, making sure the water bottle would hide her face

• Mira is enjoying it with a smirk

• While Zoey, also enjoying it, tries to help saying it's their characters, it's not real

• But then, after the performance, the lead actress keeps laughing at Jinu, making eyes at him, and she even touches his arm for a split second at the post-performance interview

• To Rumi, that was torture but she was hiding it as much as she could

• Later that night, while on their parenting duties with the tiger Derpy and the magpie Sussie

• Rumi asks him why he didn't mention the performance

• He says he wasn't allowed to because it was a surprise

• Jinu reassures Rumi he's got nothing with that actress

• And him and that actress never sing together again

• And it's later announced Rumi has an ost in said k-drama

• And they were seated together at the premiere

• And gave excuses to stay close to each other at the red carpet

• They later have a photoshoot for a very famous korean magazine together with Abby

• It was super clear Abby was third wheeling

• People barely noticed him there because not even his hot body could take attention to the chemistry Rujinu had

• After all of this, they finally decide to confess their feelings and start dating

• Thank God, Mira, Zoey and the other Saja Boys couldn't take it anymore

• The few Instagram posts they had started to match, with fans noticing accessories and exclusive jewelries from very specific brands, and not soon enough their feeds were almost the same

• And of course, it didn't take long for Dispatch to take photos of them in dates in couple outfits

• They let themselves be photographed on purpose so their labels could confirm it and they could live their lives normally

• They were very private

• So you can imagine the absolute CRASH that happened on Instagram when Jinu, now staring at a movie, appeared with Rumi at the red carpet of Cannes

• He knew it was going to happen but he decided to post anyway for shits and giggles

• He needed a new phone after that

• They almost never have their dates on their houses

• Otherwise Mira and Zoey and the other saja boys would tease them way too much

• Jinu helped Rumi with her demon side

• They always went to watch the other in an event disguised

• And left the place from behind

• Got married after 5 years of relationship

• Jinu insisted the family took Rumi's last name "Ryu" instead of his last name (Choi), becoming officially Ryu Jinu

• Had a daughter named Ryu Somi

• In terms of appearence, Rumi's genes barely even tried

• Nine months in her womb, making her suffer for Somi to look like her stupid dad

• Of course she had a human form

• But as Rumi is half demon (50%) and Jinu is full demon (100%)

• That makes Somi 75% demon

• In her human form, she has more patterns than Rumi and less than Jinu

• Her patterns shine with a rainbow color discreetly but still slightly more evident than Rumi's

• In her demon form, both her eyes turn gold instead of just one

• And her skin also becomes purple, but a lighter shade of purple than Jinu's

• Naturally blessed with otherworldly visuals

• She can also sing, dance, rap, act, and play many instruments

• Unlike Celine, Rumi and Jinu never told her to hide her patterns

• Derpy and Sussie sleep in her room

• And this happy family lived happily ever after for centuries

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I've been royal watching for years. I was excited for a new royal wedding but soft alarm bells were already ringing for me in the engagement interview. Then came the constant tsunami of pr & gossip, Meghan and Harry's weird behavior on engagements, her eye-wateringly expensive wardrobe, the odd fit. The rumor was she was mean, no family at her wedding except mom, the disagreement that she could taste egg in a dish led to Queen Elizabeth intervening. Anyway I remember shortly after the wedding being shocked that neither Philip nor the Queen was attending Louis' christening and the only reason they gave is that it was a "mutually agreed" decision between the queen, William and Catherine. BP said the decision was not based on health reasons, but rather to allow the Queen to focus on other engagements, as she had a busy schedule that week. (Nothing newsworthy though, no travel anywhere). I remember when I heard that I said the queen is already crafting a precedent for not attending Baby Sussex's christening. Everyone around me thought I was mad, there was no way the Queen would miss her first mixed race great-grandchild's christening, it would look racist. But miss Archie's christening, she and Phillip did. They said they wanted to get away for a couple of days so they left Windsor Castle where the christening had been planned to be held and went up to Sandringham for 3 days which they never really did that time of year. This is the conspiracy that I can't shake, why would she miss Louis' christening? Was it to give her cover for missing Archie's? Did she premeditatively want to miss both those kids christenings, or just Archie's? Those two are the only two among her great-grandchildren's christenings she has missed. She attended Lena Tindall's christening who was born barely a month after Louis; and later she was there for Lucas Tindall and August Brooksbank's christening.

Is it possible they asked the then Cambridges if they could bow out of Louis' christening so HMTQ wouldn't get too much blowback for not attending the christening of H&M's child? Why was the queen adamant about not being there? Was she afraid Meghan would be unpleasant? Was she purposely avoiding the Sussexes? I recall in Spare when Harry complained how his father was telling him Meghan couldn't go to Balmoral after the queen's death. Harry was only placated when Charles told him Kate would not be there either. The Cambridges fell on their sword to pacify the Sussexes at the Commonwealth Day Svc by taking their seats and not processioning in with the queen, Charles & Camilla like was written on the order of service. Please tell me I'm barmy imagining she premeditatively chose not to go to Louis' christening to pave the way for her not to attending Archie's christening. Am I even making any sense? I've taken an Ambien so I will be calling it a night.

Fear not! You are barmy. It's the Ambien speaking, I think.

For two reasons.

First, Louis was born long before Archie was incubating in his mother's belly and while Meghan was still somewhat on good behavior with the firm and family. As bad and intolerable Meghan became, I don't think it would have stopped The Queen and/or Philip for attending a Sussex child's christening. Especially since, remember, The Queen and Philip did a photo op with newborn Archie, Meghan, Harry, and Doria a few days after he was born. That's more than future king George got. So I have to believe, and especially given The Queen's faith, that missing Louis's christening had nothing to do with Meghan attending or a prospective future Sussex child.

Second, by all accounts, Archie's christening was scheduled at the last minute and without consulting anyone's schedules. We have two leaks that confirm it. The first leak is that the Archbishop of Canterbury wasn't even in London that week - he was all the way up in York for the Church of England General Synod. That meant there was a lot of scrambling to not just clear up Welby's schedule so he could do the christening, but a lot of scrambling to get him to and from York and Windsor at the appropriate times.

(Do note that it's not required for the Archbishop of Canterbury to do the christening.)

The second leak is that The Queen was already committed to royal duties and couldn't change her schedule. And actually, your point that "they...went up to Sandringham for 3 days which they never really did that time of year" is incorrect. It's been revealed that after Philip retired and moved full-time to Wood Farm on the Sandringham estate, The Queen actually spent a bit of time at Sandringham to visit him and time that was outside of her annual January/February stay. So it's fully and truly plausible that The Queen was actually regularly staying at Sandringham.

(That said, I do suspect her "royal duties" was cover for horses and something to do with her racing operations.)

And then a partial third, remember that Zara and Eugenie held a joint service that saw Lucas and August being christened together. So even if The Queen and Philip had a "policy" of just two christenings per family, it was still within The Queen's policy to attend the christening of Zara's third child because it was also Eugenie's first child's christening - and remember that it was August who wore the royal christening gown for that service, not Lucas. (And yes, this is very much round-hole/square-peg.)

But this is very much one of those YMMV analyses. Some people think William and Kate fell on their sword again, allowing Louis to be snubbed. Others think that the Sussexes didn't care about The Queen being at Archie's christening.

FWIW, I don't think the then-Cambridges felt like they were being snubbed or having to fall on their sword. We know that The Queen and Philip had a good relationship with Louis just from the comments we know Louis made after Philip died and from the interactions between The Queen and Louis on Trooping balconies.

[cloverrwritess]

Title: Number One Fanboy | Part One

Spencer Agnew x Kpop Idol! Fem! Reader

Request: Yes | No

authors note: I can finally get into the requests! I have a month off to visit my home town so I have time to write fics ♡ job was kicking my ass 🥲

Words in italics font are supposed to be in korean! I do know a bit (had to learn for my job) but not enough to be fluent, translating takes a lot of time so I’m using Italics to make it easier for me 🤧

☆☆☆

After days since the finalization of a certain meeting with your management, you were able to go to LA and start your new series ‘[Name] in LA’, a series where you navigate the area by yourself and experience the so-called ‘LA lifestyle’.

You landed around one in the morning to avoid paparazzi and fans, your place to stay for the month was a Suite in one of the expensive hotels in the area that only celebrities can get access to, a private driver that was one call away, as well as a tiny, rotating camera.

Flying from Korea to LA was no joke, hours of just sitting down and sitting, limiting what you can do inside a plane is exhausting.

☆☆☆

You turned on your camera and started filming.

"Welcome to the first episode of [name] in LA, it's actually so late right now around two am and I need to wake up early to film. Before I go to bed, I'm doing my skincare"

You started washing your face and applied skincare, sometimes giving out the benefits of using certain products. You grabbed the camera and placed it on your nightstand, making sure you were in frame.

"Before sleeping I do like to check my schedule to see if everything is in order, it keeps me from overthinking"

Checking your phone to see if nothing was changed and did a little pep talk on why you should never stay up late at night even though that’s what you’re doing currently.

“My eyes are getting droopy, I need to sleep before it’s 5am, goodnight everyone, see you tomorrow or is it good morning? i'll see you later” You chuckled, turning the camera off and getting comfy before finally closing your eyes.

☆☆☆

You adjust your mask and hat before speaking to the camera.

"Good morning! It's now the next day and my first stop is a trendy cafe I saw online, the pastries and coffee looked so good, let's go"

You were looking at your phone to see if you’re going in the right direction. Still holding the mini camera, doing some small talk to make sure you’re not filming a boring clip that might get cut.

Seeing the sign and name of the cafe, you felt relieved. "Hopefully the food is yummy” You opened the door and got hit by the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet smell of bread, you got in line and looked at the menu from above. Struggling to choose between caramel or vanilla iced coffee. "This is difficult"

Then a voice spoke up behind you.

"If I were you, I would buy the caramel iced coffee." You looked at the direction of the voice, a man with curly hair and wired glasses.

"You looked like you were struggling to decide on what to order”

Immediately turning off the camera and hiding it inside your purse, you replied.

"Yes, I was having trouble"

I've never been good at striking up a conversation with strangers without getting recognized or having people approach me to take pictures. "Are you new to this place? I've been here for years and I don't recognize you"

"Yeah, I’m here for work so I’m just exploring the area" You lied, technically you are here for work, but not in a way other people would understand.

"LA is a big city, and you'll wind up walking in circles at the end of the day” He joked.

Noticing it was your turn in line, You ordered a pastry with coffee, you took your wallet out of your bag to make the payment. "Your total is $11.50" Suddenly the man you were speaking to handed his card to the cashier "I'll pay for her order and get a caramel iced coffee as well"

He looked at me and grinned—my goodness, he had the cutest smile I've ever seen. "You didn't have to do that, umm" Realizing you never asked for his name.

"My name is Spencer" He said

"Want to take a seat together? If you're uncomfortable or simply want to be by yourself, I can leave you alone, No hard feelings" he said.

I didn't have my security with me, so I knew it was a bad idea to sit with a complete stranger, but this is the first time I've felt normal (as in with no cameras in front of me, flashing lights, and no screaming my name)in a long time. It's exhausting to walk around with bodyguards; I haven't experienced this in years. Spencer doesn't give me any creep vibes.

"I'll pick a good spot."

☆☆☆

I chose a window seat that was somewhat out of sight of the large window. I couldn't pass a nice seat with good lighting, even though I knew this place was a bad spot, paranoid being caught by crazy fans

"You weren't kidding when you said you'd pick a good spot, this seat is usually occupied around this time" He said and set our food and drinks on the table.

"Just telling you know, my lunch ends in like 20 minutes so we have 20 minutes to chat" He sat down in front of me and took a sip of his coffee.

"Is your workplace close by?"

"Yeah, this coffee shop is only a few blocks away from where I work, I work as the director and editor for this YouTube channel"

"Really? That's so cool" Not only was he cute, he was also a media nerd.

"The channel is called Smosh, and I occasionally appear on camera as a cast member” he chuckled, adding "I do kind of the weirdest things on camera for people to see”

"How about you? My heart fell out of my chest. I can't just say, ‘I'm an Idol from Korea’ out in the open Although he doesn't appear to be a K-pop fan, looks can be deceiving these days.

He was waiting for me to respond "Well, I work in the entertainment industry" I replied fast.

"Private, got it, don't worry, I'm not going to ask more questions" He assured me.

Who knew that meeting a guy at a coffee shop would turn out to be the funniest guy I've ever met? We chatted for a while and laughed at jokes. Spencer checked his watch, he saw that it was well past his lunch break. He got up and straightened his clothes. "Shit, I have to direct a video and I'm thirty minutes late”

"It was nice meeting you—"

"[Name] is my name." I grinned at him.

"Hopefully, You and I will cross paths again" Before I knew it, I was the only person at the table. I moved Spencer's cup out of the way so it wouldn't be visible on camera as I recorded a clip of me at the coffee shop, acting as if I just had a snack by myself. I adjusted my hat and put on my face mask.

"It's time to make my day productive”

☆☆☆

Spencer ran toward the Smosh games set looking unkempt.

"What took you so long?" Angela questioned, dramatically motioning with her hands.

"We were going to go hire a search party for you." Amanda joked.

"Sorry, I just lost track of time," I lied, I knew they would make fun of me for weeks if they found out the real reason why I was late.

Watching Spencer intently, Shayne interrupted both Amanda and Angela "Come on, let him sit down and film the video."

After filming a new Bored AF video, Shayne decided to confront Spencer.

"Spence, are you alright? Shayne jokes, "You look like you're constipated throughout directing the video" but his voice was laced with concern.

"I think I just met the love of my life" The confession caused Shayne's eyes to widen a little. "You met them at the coffee shop you always go to?”

I ruffled my hair out of nervousness and said, "Yeah man, She said she is new here in LA, and I'm telling you, she's fucking gorgeous"

"Whoa, I've never heard someone speak like that before”

"I know it's really cheesy, but I'm not kidding—her appearance made her look like an idol or even a celebrity"

Thinking, Shayne rubbed his chin. "You say a celebrity? What's her name? He said, "We can look her up"

"What? Dude, I don't want to Google her and pry into her life; that's creep behavior" I remembered her expression when I asked about her work. It seemed confidential, and I didn't want to break her trust that fast.

"Yeah you're right, what I said just now was a stupid idea"

"Just keep this a secret from everyone, especially Courtney” To show that he was going to keep this a secret, Shayne drew an "X" on his chest and zipped his mouth for dramatic effects.

☆☆☆

note: 🫣

[mailrebel]

10 First Lines Challenge

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your latest fanfics (or up to if you have fewer) and tag ten people! 

Thanks for the tags @writingnocturne @miadearden and @louwhose (even if Tumblr may have included me of its own accord on that one lol).

I think I played this game roughly a year ago, and since then, I've made an effort to spice up my opening lines a bit 💪 Let's see how well I've done!

The stone slithers down her throat. Skies of Pink (TOTK Zelink)

There was nothing quite like the rhythm of the forge. Shining like Steel (ALBW Zelink)

“You are not to lay a hand on our dearest princess." Hands off the Princess! (ST Zelink)

The first hell was the Calamity. Threads Pulled Taut (TOTK Zelink)

Link was leaving again. I'll Move the Stars for You (OOT Zelink)

Schedules, schedules, schedules…such rigid, bothersome things. Chills to the Bone (TP Zelink)

Midgar, once the most barren location on the planet, is now more bountiful than any garden that has ever preceded it. New Gardens (Cloti)

Cloud slips out the front door of the bar, unaware of the ruby eyes that follow him. Locked Hearts, Clouded Hearts (Cloti)

It was enchanting. What You've Been Waiting For (ALBW Zelink)

It was the perfect kiss. So I'm Already Gone (TP Zelink)

I did well enough, I suppose lol. Now...to see if I can tag 10 people 🙈

Uhhh I'm just going to go through my follows and include whoever probably hasn't been tagged yet. Tagging @dubiiousfood @hylaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @kazraza @linksthoughtbrambles @hyylia @itsyaboi-lehoe @ladyhoneydee @rivalhughs @echoingvoids @shingekinohyrule Join the game if you wanna!

[earlgreyiced]

DUMB & DUMB

Jungwon x female reader

Your crush has been one sided, but little did you know....

Reminder: engenes is referred as Aenjin in story

Genre: fluff, romance, highschool themed

You have been crushing on this boy in your year for years now. Goes by the name Yang jungwon, jungwon for all and wonnie for his closest friends. You can't remember when did you developed sparks for him but it has always been your source of joy.

You were quite close back in first year of middle school as deskmates, was in the same clique as well. Then, the friendship has been on and off as class system seperates you guys but he still shots a hi with small talks whenever he sees you. He always lends a hand whenever possible and you truly looked up to him.

Jungwon was always the top of the class and a council member. Very diligent, smart and besides, a softie— this doesn't signify him as a weakling, it's one of his strong suit of being able to empathize and be genuine in his acts, he always know what to say and not, what to do and don't. Not like the other immature boys .

Liking him has made you see yourself in another perspective, and it actually made you feel good about yourself. Just like him, you have your own strong points. Just like him, you can improve your grades. Just like him, you can work to achieve your goals.

Just like him

Just him

Like him

Like him

Like him

I like him

You never hinted that you ever liked him. Well you thought it's unncessary since it's one sided anyways. You thought you won't be bothered considering you can always admire him from afar and continue those little small talks whenever you met him. Exclude the time rumors spread that jungwon was dating another member of the council, you had salt water running from your eyes for weeks.

Well, it's in the past now. Yet your feelings unwavered.

Walking back home from your usual club functions, you saw the familiar figure beside the school gates crouching down. "Jungwon?" You called. The boy didn't respond seeming occupied with something on the ground, as you step closer your heart melted.

Gosh, he is so cute.

Jungwon was focused on a cat, calling it a few times and seemed entertained by it "meow meow".

"Pffftt" you accidentally snickered loud behind him and he immediately stood up surprised.

"Oh my god! Oh it's you Aenjin" with jolted eyes he fixed jacket and act busy. You noticed the awkward neck rubbing and red ear. Woops

"Hey jungwon, sorry to startle you."

"No no no it's alright. Glad it was you or others would be teasing about it." He chuckled. You don't know why it somehow made you happy, he's glad that it was you...

"Uhhm... hey do you wanna walk home together?" Jungwon asked.

You stopped working, what did he just say? home? Together? All those million voices inside your head screaming at each other, heat waves rushing in your whole body, steam bursting out your ears. A "Yeah" slipped from your lips

It was a silent walk, just as you expected. However, felt like torture as fearing that the beats of your heart will be heard. To makes things worse, your bus arrives in another 30 minutes...

"My bus arrives 2 minutes earlier than yours."

"Yep" you pursed your lips.

Second wave of silence. You fidget your hands thinking of anything to clear the air but he beat you to it.

"it's been a long time since we walk home."

"Right, since we have different schedules and stuff." You awkward chuckled and scratched the side of your face with a finger.

Jungwon squinted a little " do you remember back in middle school..."

In such a way, you both started conversing more than usual. Giggles and laughs arised from the cherished memories.

"Hahaha yeah... and i had a crush on you back then."

"Too bad it was back then." You slipped.

"WHAT?" both of you snapped

"Wait what? You had a crush on me back then?"

"Wait what do you mean too bad that it was back then???" Jungwon gasped in disbelief

Both of your heads were spinning from this.

"Wait, I'm sorry can we take a moment?" You blinked hard.

After a sip of water jungwon started "Actually...i had a crush on you back then in middle school. For quite a long time." His words sounded like it's not over.

You looked at him, waiting for a continuation

"And i still do."

You fall silent processing the information you just heard. You furrowed your brows in confusion "so my feelings are not unrequited? So like it's requited? like we like each other back then and like right now?" You rambled innocently

Both of you stared at each other

"Wow... i really didn't know you like me like that." Jungwon's voice small, smile wide.

"Yeah well, I'm good at hiding it. Especially since you dated that council member of yours." You sounded sassy, the thought of him being oblivious to your feelings and the rumours from back then slightly irked you.

"I never dated her! That was just rumours, we were just working together i swear."

"Oh but the rumour said otherwise, heard that you guys hang in the club longer just to date."

"Aenjin you gotta believe meee. You always believed me, come onnn."

"BLABLABLA CAN'T HEAR YOUU." You playfully cover your ears and sticking a tongue out.

This is what your middle school days was like. You felt fresh and young again, stomach flipping like it's the first time again.

"I swear on my dog that i never dated her." He said locking eyes and swiftly wraps your hands in his.

"Alright alright i was just joking." a wave of electricity hits when he touched and jolted your heart to thump even faster.

Jungwon sees your red painted cheeks and still did not let go. He saw your breath hitching, eyes avoiding his gaze, he is doing this on purpose. He is enjoying this reaction of yours

"Jungwon... my hand...wait! OH MY GOD WHAT TIME IS IT."

"Oh don't worry– OH SHIT WE MISSED OUR BUS!!"

"Jungwon...." you gave him a tired look, you guys would always missed the bus too back then each time the talking starts.

"Guess you are stuck with me" jungwon beamed

With the time you guys have, jungwon is certainly forcing you to tell your part of the story🙂‍↔️.

[toxictoad]

I want to marry someone and we're best friends and we sleep in the same bed but I never have to have sex with them and they listen to me talk about things I like and they hold me at night and they let me take care of them and they meet my family and I hold their hand and people don't understand us but it's okay because we understand each other. I'll write when I feel like it and I'll get published in my forties and have a cult following of readers but they don't know what my face looks like and they send me physical mail and I keep it all in a room on a huge corkboard and I make a collage out of the mail and I write responses whenever I can and place lipstick kisses and perfume on the letters. I dress in seventies clothes and go to farmer's markets and eat a pomegranate in a king sized bed. I take a nap in a hammock and watch dragonflies land on flowers. I hug my siblings and I invite them over for mocktails and rice pudding. I read classics and fanfiction and poetry and memoirs. I forgive my parents. I play video games. I tell people to vote. I tell people to be kind. I sing in the shower and I'm not embarrassed about it. I smile every day. My partner and my friends and my family come over and eat and laugh and it's good. I get enough sleep. I have a cat. I get told 'I love you' every day. I dance in the rain. I get top surgery and hormones. I cry sometimes but it's okay. I have a garden. I take my meds. People hug me. I'm warm. I get glasses in fun colors and shapes. I'm safe. I still have all my stuffed animals. I have a therapist that I like. My body still hurts a little bit but it's doing better. I'm proud of what I do. I have fuzzy socks. I spend a lot of time at the library. There's a local restaurant that I really like. People around town know who I am but they don't know my name. I get to take the train places. I wear wigs sometimes just for fun. I don't have kids and people ask why and I tell them something different every time. I live a long life. I grow old and grey and my joints crack and I look like my grandparents but I still love musicals and cartoons. I buy yellow pants at the thrift store. I die surrounded by my friends. People come to my funeral, but there's no casket. There's no dark colors. My ashes are mixed with the ashes of the letters people sent me. They're made into a little glass sculpture of a cat. My funeral has cake, and my favorite music. There's a bouncy castle. People are laughing. Kids run around and they don't quite understand yet, but that's okay. People talk about my books. My sister gives a speech. There's a mocktail bar. Everyone gets a bag of my favorite chips. People grow old and they die. The little glass cat gets put into storage. It gets donated to a thrift store. A little girl walks into the thrift store and sees it, and begs her mom for it because she thinks it's cool. She keeps it until she's out of college, and she knocks it off her desk one day and it shatters. That's okay, even if she's a little sad about it. Someone reads one of my books and they like it. They write a letter, but I'm not there to read it. I smile anyways.

[egophiliac]

since Eng is getting 7.5 soon(?), I felt motivated to go back to my Meleanor rig and make her a couple of lesson animations! ...except for alchemy, because the cauldron bubbles proved too hard to photoshop around, whoops.

maybe she just got lost on her way to the classroom...?

(credit: backgrounds are from the game, I just put her on top of 'em)

(aside from the backgrounds, this is not an edit, I drew her from scratch! please do not tag or treat as an edit!)

[blindmagdalena]

Center Stage in a Gilded Cage

18+ 3k. homelander x f!reader. pre-s1. stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, forced relationship, slow burn, somnophilia, drugging, eventual smut. gif | AO3 | fanfic directory

Homelander was born with only one terrible poverty: loneliness. He's been starved of love his entire life, made sick by his hunger for it, but he believes you might have the cure. If you want to survive, you'll find a way to give it to him.

Homelander has never been able to understand people who bird watch. Of all the things a mundane person could do with their abysmally mediocre life, why devote what little free time they have to observing a creature even more dull than they themselves are?

Perhaps it's the gift of flight. By far, it is the ability of his that garners the most attention. Or maybe it's the power trip one experiences when observing something simpler and weaker than yourself for sport. The novelty of becoming endeared by their strange little behaviors and quirks. It's this line of thinking that eventually walks Homelander down the path of people watching. During his downtime, in the quiet moments he spends perched atop skyscrapers and apartment complexes, he finds himself watching the people miles below him scurry about like insects through a colony.

Over time, he begins to recognize regulars. People moving back and forth, day in and day out, no different than ants moving grains back and forth. He has to laugh. It's no wonder god abandoned man. Man is fucking boring.

Even the god they made for themselves thinks so.

To ease the monotony, he concocts little stories for the ones he recognizes. He imagines the kinds of lives they live outside of their commutes and the routines he observes. He names one of them Peter, and every day he invents a new reason Peter is yet again running late for his train. Because he's always late, Peter never stops for the woman selling street meat on the corner across from the station.

Homelander imagines that the meat she peddles is people, and that she's got her eye on that speedy little rabbit, Peter.

And then one day, he notices you.

It isn’t that you’re especially beautiful or noteworthy. Just like all the other busy little bees, you go about your same routine each and every day of the week. Sometimes you're in a rush, other times you enjoy your stroll. Regardless, you always find time to stop and give money to the same homeless man occupying one of the few alleyways protected by an awning. Sometimes you linger to chat, other times you can only stop long enough to drop something into his hands.

It isn't always money. Oftentimes you have food for him packed neatly into a little take-out box. Despite the packaging, it looks homemade. You always have a warm smile for him, even when you’re obviously frazzled.

To the rest of the world, this man may as well be fucking invisible, but here you are handing him a box of home cooked food like he's someone who matters. Homelander is the world's greatest hero, and yet some bum on the street is being fed with more love and attention to detail than he ever has.

It's a goddamn joke. More and more, it becomes apparent to him that you’re pathetically lonely. After a few days of observing you amongst the others, he starts trailing you more actively, forgetting all about Peter and his eventual butcher.

He wants to know more about you.

You live alone, working and cooking for only yourself and your stray pet. Sometimes you cook for your coworkers or the odd friend who stops by before leaving you alone all over again. He watches from a distance while you toil away, cooking more food than you’ll eat in a week for people you see for a fraction of each of your weekdays. It couldn’t be more obvious that you’re desperate for someone to take care of.

In a way, he can relate. 

Maeve has been more distant than ever, choosing to engage him only when there’s a camera present. When it’s only the two of them, she just drinks until he barely recognizes her. Madelyn has begun her “fertility journey,” words that set his teeth on edge, and has barely had a real moment to spare him as of late. The rest of his team doesn’t help abate his loneliness either; Marathon is a washed up hack who can barely sprint these days, Lamplighter is only ever interested in clubbing, the Deep couldn’t hold a conversation in a bucket, and Noir is a mute.

And so he soothes his solitude with thoughts of you. When he isn’t with you, he daydreams about it, imagining what life would look like if your worlds were to intersect. The more he learns about you, the more vivid his fantasies become, and the more intensely he aches when he still finds himself alone in his bed at the end of each night.

It spurs him to visit you more and more.

One particularly warm summer night, you leave your window wide open. He takes it for the invitation it is, drifting towards it under the cover of dark. Your screen is loose and pops out noiselessly. Not exactly safe, even if you do live on the fifth storey.

You just never know what might come lurking out of the shadows.

Slipping into your living room, he’s met with the sound of white noise playing from your bedroom. Is it the sound of the streets below that bother you? You’d never hear it from his penthouse a hundred feet in the air. You could leave the windows open all you like and hear only the roar of the sky, not unlike the ocean waves your phone is poorly mimicking.

He could take you to the actual ocean. A beach house far away from the buzzing neon lights and incessant honking and revving of traffic. Walking through your apartment, he makes his way to your tiny kitchen. The one in his penthouse puts yours to absolute shame, and yet the only thing in it that’s ever been used is the fridge. He’s certain he’s never opened the double oven or so much as turned on the gas range. Meanwhile, your kitchen is riddled with use, each cupboard stuffed with mismatched cookware and the like. It smells of grease and spices and love.

The sad irony of it is almost too much to stomach. You don’t belong in this cramped little sardine can. You should be in a proper kitchen. 

You should be cooking for him. The thought comes to him like a flash of genius. Of course. That’s the answer that will solve both of your little dilemmas. If he is a bird watcher then you’re a songbird snared in a net. It would be inhumane of him to leave you to die before you’re ever appreciated–ever seen–by anyone who matters.

You would worship him for rescuing you. His wealth and power would see each and every one of your material needs met with ease. You would never work for anything again. All you would ever have to concern yourself with was being loved and loving him.

He walks to your room with a hand pressed absently over his heart, cradling the anxious little bundle of nerves that have gathered there. He can tell by your breathing that you’re deep asleep, and yet he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he approaches.

His first time being so near to you after weeks of simply observing.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he steps towards you. The sound of him is masked by the ambient noise spilling from your phone, not to mention the fan you have pointed directly at your bed in a desperate attempt to save yourself from the summer heat.

You clearly weren’t built for this paltry life. Mary was no one before God chose her for greatness. Is that not what he’s about to do for you? It’s the will of a god that elevates you.

He kneels by your bedside, bringing himself face to face with you. Your breathing is even, each huff smelling faintly of mint. Your lips look soft, slightly parted in sleep. Everything about you is gentler, more relaxed than you ever are in the day to day grind of your life.

You could look like this all the time without it. He has the power to change your entire life with nothing more than a couple of numbers shifting from one space to another. Money has always been inconsequential to him, so abundant that it hardly means anything anymore. You, however, are ruled by it.

For the first time in his life, he recognizes the power in his wealth.

He brushes the tips of his gloved fingers along your cheek, down your jaw. He’s never used his hands so tenderly as when he traces your sleeping eyelids with his fingertips, imagining what dreams chase behind them and make them flutter.

You don’t stir. 

Emboldened, he follows the curve of your bottom lip with his thumb, imagining how soft you would feel against the bare pad of his finger. Leaning in closer, he indulges in the warmth of your breath tickling his lips. You’re a sound sleeper, the thud of your resting heart beating steadily in his ear.

Closing his eyes, he bridges the distance between your lips, pressing his own lightly to yours. For a second, he thinks he’s woken you, that you’ve caught sight of him and your heart is drumming loudly in his ears. He draws sharply back, but sees that you’re still deep asleep, your features peaceful.

It’s his heart that’s racing, a thundering sound that blocks out every other noise in the room. He’s breathing shallowly, excited in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. There’s a flush crawling up his throat, and it’s at that moment he breaks out into a wide, wondrous smile.

There’s no question of it now.

He has to have you.

The plan to acquire you ends up requiring very little setup. If Madelyn cares why Homelander’s suddenly spending so much, she’s yet to make a comment. 

Bitterly, he thinks it likely that she’s glad to see him distracted. 

He starts preparation by appropriately stocking his kitchen; you’ll appreciate the supply of ingredients, he knows. The quality of what he obtains for you is leagues above what you can afford, as is the cookware. He buys you new clothes, jewelry, imagining every step of the way how you’ll look in each piece. How you’ll look as he takes them off. He’s seeking to upgrade your life in every conceivable way, like bringing a cat home from the pound and teaching it the meaning of luxury.

You’ll want for nothing. You’ll be so grateful to him. And you, the sweet and perfect little thing that you are, make yourself painfully easy to ensnare. You come home under the cover of dark like clockwork, perfectly oblivious to his approach. You’ve just managed to fish your keys out of your bag when his hand closes a kerchief over your mouth and nose, stifling your cry. His other arm slips around your waist, holding you steady. The cloth smells overly sweet, ether-like, and though that scent has no effect on him, you respond to it almost immediately.  “Shhhhshhshh,” he soothes, letting the anesthesia do its job. Fuck, you feel good in his arms, back held tight to his chest, your delicate hands prying at his wrist as you kick, claw and scream–albeit muffled–into the cloth. He holds you with ease, keeping you close to his body, angling you in such a way that you won’t hurt yourself.

Despite your tenacity, you fight a losing battle. Your efforts grow weaker and weaker as you lose your grip on consciousness. He hushes you all the while, encouraging you. “That’s it, let it go. I’ve got you, I’ve got you...” Finally your head falls back against his shoulder, your face lolling into the crook of his neck, the rest of your body falling slack in his arms. He pulls the cloth away from your mouth, tucking it into your bag for now. He turns his head to yours, lips barely ghosting along your forehead. He takes in a deep breath of you, his eyes falling shut. Beneath the sickly sweet smell of the chemical mixture he knocked you out with, he can smell the remnants of your perfume. It’s not his favorite fragrance, but the underlying warm scent of you is intoxicating. He’ll collect whatever belongings you decide you want with you when he returns, if anything, but he doubts you’ll miss much. Your stuff will seem like a heap of rags and garbage by comparison. He’s looking forward to how the perfumes and lotions he’s bought you will smell on your skin, and how you’ll look in the clothing he’s picked for you. He adjusts you into a bridal carry in his arms and gently kicks off from the ground, holding you firm to his chest. The city is beautiful at night, a landscape of stars mirroring that of the sky above it. He’s always loved it here, and yet he’s shared it with a painful few.

Madelyn never lets him take her to the skies. Maeve had been wowed initially, but she had quickly grown disillusioned with it. With him.

You’ll be different. The trip back to his penthouse feels agonizingly slow, but he maintains a lesser pace to keep the wind from rashing your skin, savoring the featherlight weight of you in his arms at last. He lands deftly on his balcony, stepping through his open reinforced glass doors. After laying you down in his bed, he takes a moment to slip off your shoes, setting them aside. He eases your purse off of your shoulder, and places it on the nightstand. After sprawling a thin blanket over you, he takes a step back and puts his hands on his hips to admire the perfectly domestic scene he’s set.

Slowly, he breaks out into a smile. His bed swallows you up, makes you look small and lonely. He’s the missing piece, of course. He’s already looking forward to seeing himself complete the picture in the mirror above you. He imagines coming home to you like this, curled up in his–no, your shared bed, blanket pulled up over your shoulders to block the chill left by his absence.

Oh, how you’ll miss him when he’s gone.

You’ll have nothing and no one to concern yourself with except for him. No burdens, no dread, no stress. You’ll live in peace and security the likes of which you can scarcely imagine, spoiled rotten by the bounty of all that he is.

Neither of you will ever be lonely again.

Tilting his head slightly, he listens to the sound of you. Your breathing is shallow, the beat of your heart steady. Normal people don’t realize it, don’t have the capacity for it, but a heartbeat is as distinct as a fingerprint. Over the years, he’s learned to read them as such. He’s memorized yours. There isn’t much for him to do in the time that you’re asleep. He knows precisely how long you’ll be out; the anesthesia blend he gave you was straight out of Vought’s lab, and the dose he gave you leaves him with at least an hour before the two of you meet properly. The anticipation is enough to make him giddy. For all that Homelander knows about you, there is plenty he does not. The externals of your life have only provided him so much, but that will come in time. He didn’t bother with perusing your social media accounts, not being particularly proficient in them himself. 

Besides, he wants getting to know you to be an organic experience.

He remembers to take your phone out of your bag and dispose of that rag he used to dose you while he’s at it. He unlocks your phone the way he’s seen you do a dozen times before, and spends some time ensuring that no one will be expecting you anywhere any time soon. All it takes is one quick email and you no longer have a job. A few social media posts later, you’ve informed anyone who might think of you that you’ll be enjoying an impromptu sabbatical in Europe.

The power of technology. After that, he pops your phone into the safe behind one of the dozens of portraits on his wall.

When he hears you starting to stir, renewed butterflies start fluttering about in his stomach. You have no idea that your entire life–no, your entire perception of reality–is about to change. No more dodgy commutes, no more living paycheck-to-paycheck. You’ll be free to admire the world from the lap of luxury–his lap, to be specific. You make a quiet moan, the chemical fog wearing off gradually. He moves swiftly to your bedside, primed with a welcoming smile, hands on his hips. “Riiiise and shine, sleepyhead,” he coaxes, leaning forward at the waist. Still disoriented from the drugs in your system, you stare at him as if you’re dreaming. He doesn’t blame you. In almost every other reality, there’s no explanation for the fact you’re seeing America’s favorite hero, the Homelander, standing above you. He knows the side effects of the drug have left a strange buzzing in your ears, and that your tongue likely feels heavy and cottony. He’s already got water for you on the bedside table. “Home…lander?” You manage to get out. His smile broadens. That’s the first time he’s heard you say his name. You look cute like this, bleary-eyed and needy. He’s grown accustomed to seeing you as a put together provider, self-sufficient and tending to the needs of those around you, but rarely your own. Seeing you unraveled feels like a secret intimacy for him alone. “The one and only,” he preens. Now that you’ve seen him posed valiantly by your side, he takes a seat on the bed next to you, reaching out to brush his gloved knuckles along your forehead. He attributes the slight flinch to your drug addled confusion. Poor thing. If he’d had an alternative to using a sedative, he would have preferred that.

Not that it matters now. You’re finally here.

( chapter two )

[martyryo]

I was abt to give up on this until I remembered who she is

[mobius-m-mobius]

(i n / s p)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[wildwood-faun]

Patternmaking, both basic and creative: The Shapes of Fabric

Once upon a time I used to follow the blog of someone who worked in the fashion industry who would write irate posts on fitting and quality issues, teaching me in the process why ready to wear trousers never fit properly, exactly how to set a sleeve, and why T-shirts sometimes start to turn themselves into corkscrews once you've washed them. I'm pretty sure this is not that blog, but I think I found it when I was trying to find the aforementioned one again.

The Shapes of Fabric is a really cool blog with a mix of basic guides like drafting pattern blocks (a base pattern you can use to create more complex garments) and really fun patternmaking experiments that are basically practical geometry.

If you're going to use older sewing sources, it's often really helpful to have at least a basic grasp of what pattern drafting is and how it works, so I'll be linking to some tutorials on how to draft some basic pattern blocks (bearing in mind that I've probably not used this source in particular, but the idea is more or less the same however you explain it):

pattern making basics

how to use basic pattern blocks

bodice block

dartless bodice block

pants block

The site also has a bunch of helpful guides, like these ones:

welt pockets

fitting bodices

fitting pants and skirts

sewing plackets and collars

more on collars

jacket sewing

sewing sleeves

sewing pants

There's also some really cool posts on dart manipulation, flounces, ruffles, "patterns that create patterns" (if you want to go off in a retro futurist way this kind of thing would be neat to incorporate), funky things you can do with sleeves, tucks (v useful if you're into Victorian stuff), detachable collars. Basically, go have a look around and get inspired!

[wardingshout]

@pyuart PYUUUUU HAPPY BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I HOPE YOU HAVE THE BESTEST COOLEST DAY EVER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[shouyuus]

view, 7:17 on a thursday night