#will I remember to update this? time will tell...

[cressidagrey]

What's in a Name?

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Part of the The mysterious Mrs. Piastri Series.

Summary:  Oscar tends to forget to tell his family about major life moments. Or: How Nicole Piastri found out that her granddaughter was named after her. 

Warnings and Notes: I have been working on this for weeks and I have finally given up on trying to make it better. So here it is, in all its glory. Big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble 😂

It was a rainy Tuesday, the kind of afternoon where Melbourne felt more like London—grey skies, misting rain, and a house quiet enough to hear the fridge hum. 

Nicole sat at the kitchen table, shoulders draped in her oldest cardigan, a half-finished crossword in front of her and a cup of peppermint tea cooling untouched at her elbow. The mail was stacked neatly beside her: the usual suspects—an electricity bill, a newsletter from the council, a catalog she didn’t remember subscribing to—and one envelope that stopped her short.

Cream-coloured. Heavy paper. Sealed with wax.

Her heart caught.

She knew that handwriting. Elegant, almost old-fashioned cursive. Felicity.

Nicole reached for it carefully, fingers brushing over the embossed return address in one corner. She broke the seal with a letter opener, slow and reverent. Inside was a card—no, stationery—thick and matte, with delicate wildflowers inked around the borders in soft watercolours. Pinks and purples, sprigs of lavender, daisies tucked into corners. Hand-drawn, clearly. Felicity’s touch was unmistakable.

A birth announcement.

Months late, of course.

But Nicole had never minded. They’d all understood.

Bee had been born in July—smack in the middle of winter in Australia and summer in London and chaos and COVID-era restrictions. The beginning had been terrifying: the rushed C-section, Felicity’s haemorrhaging, Bee’s heart surgery, the NICU admission. Machines that beeped too loud. Oxygen tubes. Monitors flickering through the haze of exhaustion. 

They’d prayed. Waited. Called. Texted. Watched from a distance as their son clung to hope like a lifeline.

Nicole remembered the first time she’d seen her granddaughter—through a pixelated video call at 2:43 a.m., after two sleepless nights. Oscar’s voice cracking off-camera. He’d kept repeating, “She’s so small, Mum. But she’s here.”

Nicole had cried then. Silently, so she wouldn’t worry them.

The last thing anyone expected was proper stationery.

Nicole hadn’t pushed. They’d promised to send proper announcements eventually. 

Nicole had video-called. She’d cried when she saw Felicity eventually, pale and exhausted, holding a tiny baby against her chest, wires and monitors flickering. She’d prayed harder than she ever had. She knew her granddaughter had made it, had healed, had come home.

Still, the card made her heart catch.

A soft floral design, hand-drawn. Felicity’s unmistakable attention to detail.

And at the center, in black ink:

Welcome to the World, Beatrice Nicole Piastri

Nicole blinked.

Read it again.

Beatrice�� Nicole.

Her name. Not just as a nod or a casual reference, but there. Written, printed, declared.

She hadn’t known.

Oscar hadn’t said. Not in any of the hospital updates. Not in any of the late-night phone calls from London when Felicity was still recovering from the C-section, when Bee was fighting her way through post-surgery oxygen dependency. Not during the photos and videos and the grainy FaceTimes where Bee was curled like a comma against his chest, breathing steadily. 

Not when Felicity sent thank-you messages for the baby blanket, the muslin wraps, the tiny hand-knitted cardigan that had been Nicole’s own when she was born.

Not once had anyone told Nicole that Bee was named after her.

She pressed a hand to her mouth. A quiet gasp escaping before she could stop it.

It was such a small thing. A few letters printed in black ink.

But to her—it was everything.

Oscar had never said anything. Not a word. He probably didn’t even think of it. Probably assumed she knew.

And of course he hadn’t—he was Oscar. Her brilliant, focused son who forgot to eat on race days and got distracted by suspension schematics while tying his shoes. He’d sent updates. Photos. He’d FaceTimed with Bee curled on his chest and Felicity gently teasing him in the background.

But he’d never told her her name.

She looked back down at the card, eyes suddenly stinging.

Beatrice Nicole.

She’d never expected to be honored that way. Never needed it. She was proud of all her children, proud of the life they’d built, proud of the woman her daughter-in-law had become. She had watched Felicity grow from the shy teenager, always polite, always too quiet—into a woman of strength. One who had come through fire and come out steady, composed, fierce.

Nicole wiped at her cheek with the sleeve of her cardigan.

There was a photo tucked into the card as well—Bee at a few months old, round-cheeked, eyes bright. She was lying on a muslin cloth covered in bees, one tiny fist raised, her other hand clutching a green plush frog to her chest.

Oscar’s daughter.

Her granddaughter.

Nicole smiled softly, brushing her fingers over the card.

Then she picked up her phone, opened the family group chat, and typed. 

***

Group Chat: Piastri Fam ❤️

(Members: Nicole, Chris, Oscar, Hattie, Edie and Mae)

Nicole:OSCAR JACK PIASTRI YOU NAMED HER AFTER ME?!?!?!?

Hattie: wait WHAT

Mae: Hold on hold on hold on what is happening

Edie: Named WHO after WHO

Nicole: BEE. BEATRICE NICOLE. I JUST GOT THE BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE MAIL

Hattie: EXCUSE ME???? YOU GAVE YOUR DAUGHTER MUM’S NAME AS A MIDDLE NAME AND TOLD NO ONE???

Oscar: oh, yeah we did that

Chris: ...Son. You named your child after your mother and forgot to mention it?

Mae: THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??? “oh yeah”????

Oscar: i didn’t think it was a big deal

Edie: NOT A BIG DEAL????

Hattie: YOU IMMORTALIZED MUM IN YOUR CHILD’S NAME

Mae: AND YOU’RE OUT HERE ACTING LIKE YOU JUST BOUGHT A NEW TOASTER

Chris: It’s… kind of a massive deal, Oscar. You named your daughter after your mum. That means something.

Oscar: … yeah. I guess it does.

Nicole: I’m crying. I have actual tears in my eyes. And you’re in here like, “oh, yeah” 😭

Oscar: It just felt… natural?

Nicole: I— I’m going to go lie down. With my framed announcement. And my feelings.

Edie:YOU NEVER MENTIONED IT

Hattie: YOU LITERALLY LET ME CROCHET HER NAME INTO A BLANKET THAT JUST SAID “BEE”

Oscar:It is what we call her

Edie: I’m losing my MIND

Mae: He’s too emotionally repressed to realize he just gave Mum the greatest compliment of her life and did it casually via post

Oscar: you’re all very dramatic

Chris: And you are very casually sentimental. It’s unnerving.

Nicole: I am crying in my lemon tart and also deeply offended

Oscar: …thanks?

Nicole: No thank you. For naming your little girl after me. Even if you forgot to mention it for FOUR MONTHS.

Oscar: it was hectic!! there was the NICU and the surgery and the no sleeping and—

Edie: You’re not getting out of this with logistics.

Mae: YOU had time to send aesthetic baby announcement cards with pressed flowers and wax seals but not to casually text us “btw named her after mum”????

Nicole:You’re lucky I adore you. And that Bee is already my favorite grandchild.

Oscar: she’s your only grandchild

Nicole: Exactly. And I will name-drop “Beatrice Nicole” at every social event until the day I die.

Hattie: I just can’t believe you didn’t tell us. Like? We are your siblings? We texted you every day during that month?

Oscar: i know i didn’t mean to keep it a secret it just… slipped through the cracks we were so focused on keeping her alive, you know?

Nicole: Oh, sweetheart. We do know. And I wouldn’t change a thing. But I want you to know—this means the world. You didn’t have to do it. But you did. And I will never forget it.

Oscar: …you were always there for me always even when things were messy or quiet or hard felt right to honour that not just because you’re Mum but because you’re you

Nicole: Okay. Now I’m really crying.

Mae: He’s emotionally stunted and accidentally poetic. It’s unfair.

Nicole: Thank you. For her. For the name. For the reminder that family doesn’t have to be loud to be deeply, stubbornly, painfully loving.

Edie: Are we hugging in the group chat? Are we… feeling things?

Mae: Shut up and cry with us.

Oscar: i’ll send a picture of bee in her little bear onesie as a peace offering

Nicole: Bless you. Also she looks exactly like Felicity. Thank god for that.

Hattie: Family roast unlocked. Let’s goooo.

***

The flat was quiet, in that sacred hour between baby bedtime and parental collapse. Outside, the London rain tapped against the windows with soft insistence, and inside, the only light came from the low-glow lamp by the couch and the faint blue wash of the baby monitor on the coffee table.

Oscar sat on the floor, legs stretched out under the coffee table, chin resting on his fist as he stared at his phone with the haunted look of a man who had just survived a particularly emotional family group chat.

Felicity padded out of the bedroom barefoot, hair in a messy braid, sleeves pushed up, two mugs in hand. She handed him one without a word, sitting cross-legged beside him with her own, her shoulder brushing his. The silence between them was easy. Familiar. Worn in like a favorite hoodie.

After a long minute, Oscar cleared his throat.

"Hey."

Felicity hummed in reply, sipping her tea.

"So…" He winced. "Funny thing."

Felicity glanced sideways at him, eyebrow raised.

"I might’ve…" He trailed off. Rubbed the back of his neck. "Forgotten to tell Mum that we named Bee after her."

She blinked. "What?"

"I didn’t mean to!" he said quickly. "I thought I had. Or maybe I assumed she figured it out? I don’t know. Things were... insane. There was the surgeries and the lockdown and you couldn’t walk properly and Bee was the size of a loaf of bread and wouldn’t sleep unless I sang The Beatles whole catalogue —"

"—which you only knew half the words to."

"Exactly!" he said, relieved she remembered. "It was chaos."

Felicity set down her mug. "Oscar."

"I know." He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "I’m the worst."

"You’re not the worst," she said softly, nudging his leg with her foot. "You’re just… Oscar."

He lifted his head. "She got the card today."

"Oh no."

"She cried. Like, actual tears. Into a lemon tart, apparently."

Felicity’s mouth twitched. "That’s poetic."

"And now the whole family’s acting like I revealed a state secret. Hattie’s offended on behalf of her crochet. Edie threatened to make Bee a full ‘Beatrice Nicole’ sweater as penance. Mae’s yelling about my emotional repression. Chris is quietly disappointed."

"And your mother?"

Oscar leaned back against the couch, head thudding softly against the cushions. "She’s thrilled. Emotional. Plotting social dominance via name-dropping. Said she’s going to tell everyone at the farmer’s market."

Felicity laughed. Quiet and fond. "Well. We did mean it."

“I meant to tell,” he muttered. “I swear I thought I did. Like, I could’ve sworn I said something in a voicemail or one of those late-night calls when Bee wasn’t sleeping.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow. “You also once thought you’d put the sterilizer on, but it turned out you boiled two bibs and a remote.”

Oscar groaned and leaned his head back against the couch, careful not to disturb Bee. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re a tired idiot,” Felicity said gently. “You’ve had a lot on your plate.”

He looked down at Bee, one tiny hand curled into the fabric of his hoodie. “I just… I wanted to name her after Mum because it felt right.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Felicity said softly. “I knew the moment you said it after we found out we were having a girl. The way you looked at Bee—like you already knew who she was.”

“She deserved a name that meant something,” Oscar said. “Not just cute syllables. Something solid. Something that would… anchor her, I guess.”

He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I just didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

Felicity laughed under her breath. “Oscar. You named your daughter after your mother. And forgot to tell her.”

“I forgot,” he groaned. “I’m the worst.”

“You’re not. You’re just very you.”

“She sent, like, twelve texts in a row. And then threatened to put the announcement in a shadow box.”

“I’m surprised it’s not already framed and hanging in her hallway.”

Oscar blinked at Bee’s face, so peaceful in sleep. “I didn’t mean it to be—like, some grand gesture.”

“I know. That’s why it mattered.”

Oscar looked down at Bee, asleep in her Moses Basket.  She shifted in her sleep, little nose scrunching, one leg kicking softly.

Oscar smiled. “She’s going to be trouble.”

“She already is.”

They sat there in the soft hush of late-night domesticity, their daughter asleep between them. Oscar didn’t always have the right words at the right time. But Bee had the right name.

And maybe that was enough.

***

Text Messages: Nicole Piastri & Felicity Piastri

Felicity: Hi Nicole — I saw the group chat 😅I am really sorry, I thought Oscar would have mentioned it.  I just wanted to say something privately too.

Felicity: He might have forgotten to mention it, but I thought you should know that he was the one who insisted on “Nicole” as soon as we found out we were having a girl.

Felicity:He didn’t even hesitate. He said, “If we’re lucky enough to have a daughter, she should carry a name that means something. And no one’s steadier than Mum.”

Felicity:He said it so simply, like it was obvious. Like it had always been the plan. He didn’t even blink. It was always going to be your name.

Felicity:I just wanted you to know that. He might’ve forgotten to tell you (🙃), but he meant it. Deeply. And so did I. We love you. So much.

Nicole:Oh Fliss 😭 I’m already crying again and it’s not even 9 a.m here.

Nicole: I’m just sitting here staring at this message with tissues in my lap and a cup of tea that’s gone cold. I never would’ve expected it — but it means the absolute world.

Nicole:That boy… He says so little. Always has. But somehow he still manages to break my heart wide open when I least expect it.

Felicity: Welcome to my life 😌 He forgets to mention where he put the car keys for 3 days, but then says something like, “I hope Bee knows the way you smile when you’re reading to her, because that’s what safety looks like,” and ruins me.

Felicity: Truly, though — thank you. For raising a man who loves softly, and completely. Who lets kindness be his backbone, not just something on the surface. You gave me the kind of partner I didn’t think existed.

Nicole: I hope you know how deeply we love you too. You’ve given him so much joy.

Felicity: I just didn’t want you to think Bee’s name was a last-minute decision or some afterthought. It was never that.

Felicity: It was a choice made out of love. Out of gratitude. Out of every night you answered his calls when he was a world away. Every time you stood by him when things got hard.

Nicole: Thank you for telling me. Thank you for letting me be a part of her, even in just a name. It’s more than I ever expected.

Felicity:She already adores you, you know. Every time we show her your photo, she reaches for the screen.

Nicole:Stop it 😭😭 You’re going to ruin me. I’m going to frame that birth announcement. And possibly embroider “Beatrice Nicole” onto every blanket I can get my hands on. And refer to her full name as often as possible. Oscar will hate it.

Felicity: Good. He deserves it 😌

Nicole: Now go cuddle Bee for me. And tell Oscar that I’m not mad. Just... Emotionally devastated in a joyful way. And that he’s grounded for four to six business days.

Felicity: He says, and I quote: “I deserve that.” 😅 We love you, Nicole. Truly. So much.

Nicole: I love you both more than words. Now please stop making me cry before breakfast.

[hatethysinner]

kinda messed up toxic!remmick x pregnant reader

ᴛᴏxɪᴄ!ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ x ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

ᴀ/ɴ: NOTHING IS TOO MESSED UP FOR ME ANON!! please heed the warnings, they are there for your benefit <33! went more serious than my normal headcanon writing bc even though i love writing dark themes i never want to come off as too silly when approaching these topics. i don't do taglists personally, so just follow me if you want to be updated when i post.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 18+ MDNI (!!!!!!), shamelessly gratuitous smut, unapologetically dark (!!!), malicious fluff (i'm coining this), obsession, manipulation, isolation, lovebombing, dubcon (!!!), noncon (!!!), mental/emotional abuse (!!!), heavily abused power dynamic (!!!), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, praise/degradation kink, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v, free use, overstimulation, dacryphilia, unreliable narrator-ish, read at your own discretion

remmick loves you so much it’s suffocating. tells you so every single day, in a voice dripping honey, in words soft enough to be a lullaby. “ain’t nobody in this world loves ya like i do, darlin’. not your friends, not your family. nobody.”

and he’s so good at making you believe it. at making you think he’s the only one who ever could.

he’s doting in ways that would be sweet if it wasn’t all followed by iron chains. he insists on cooking every meal for you, pressing kisses to your temple as he sets a plate in front of you, murmuring, “gotta keep my best girl strong. my baby needs ya strong.” he does the chores, every single one, moving around the house like a gentle shadow, humming while he sweeps, while he folds your clothes, while he rubs oil into your growing belly at night.

he draws your baths, tests the water with his fingers, carries you to the tub if your feet are sore. he brushes and combs through your hair with long, careful strokes, cooing, “such a pretty girl. my pretty little wife.” and sometimes it almost makes you forget the other side of him.

almost makes you forget the hours he’ll lock you in your room when he’s angry, pacing on the other side of the door, telling you it’s for your own good. makes you forget how you never get a private moment anymore, not even to bathe or change clothes, because he’s always there, eyes tracking every breath you take, every twitch of your fingers.

he buys you gifts constantly, filling the house with flowers and silks and gold, draping you in it like he’s gilding a shrine. but you’re not allowed to go out and show it off. “don’t want all them eyes on ya, baby. you’re mine to look at. mine to keep.”

he isolates you, sweetly. softly. makes sure you know the world outside the house is cruel, full of people who’d never understand you the way he does. “ain’t safe out there for a pretty thing like ya. folks’d try to hurt ya. i’d kill ‘em if they did.”

sometimes you believe him. sometimes you want to run. but even the thought of running makes your stomach flip, because you can’t imagine where you’d go without him. you can’t imagine being alone.

and he loves you so thoroughly that you start thinking maybe you’re the one who’s being cruel. for doubting him. for crying when he touches you. for saying no. for not wanting him every time he wants you.

because he always wants you.

he’s obsessed with the way you look carrying his baby. the round swell of your belly, the fullness of your breasts. runs his palms over you like he’s petting something precious, voice low and reverent. “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, baby. didn’t think it was possible for ya to get prettier, but look at ya now. full of me. just like y’should be.”

he talks about putting more babies in you before you’ve even had this one. about keeping you pregnant for the rest of your life. about how your body was made for this. “gonna keep ya so full, folks won’t even remember what you looked like before i bred ya.”

he adores your milk. even before it’s fully come in, he’s latched to your tits whenever he can get them, licking and suckling and praising you for how sweet you taste, even if you’re crying. especially if you’re crying. “shh, darlin’. let me have it. s’just me. always gonna be just me.”

he’s always touching you. even when he’s pretending to be gentle. fingers stroking your belly, your thighs, slipping between your legs while he murmurs, “need to make sure you’re still stretchin’ nice f’me. can’t have ya closin’ up on me now.”

he’ll tell you how good you are in one breath and tear you down in the next, lips soft against your ear. “such a good girl lettin’ me use ya like this. my sweet little broodmare. nothin’ but a hole to keep my kids warm.” and when you sob, he groans, hips snapping harder. “cry all y’want, sugar. ain’t gonna stop me.”

he lives for the taste of those tears too. for the way your voice goes high and broken when you’re crying and coming at the same time. loves licking the salt off your cheeks and telling you how pretty you are when you cry. “ain’t no sight sweeter than my girl in tears. means i’m doin’ my job right.”

eating you out isn’t even something he asks permission for. you’re his. he’ll spread your thighs, mouth hot and relentless, licking you until your legs shake and your tears spill, ignoring your babbled pleas to stop. loves how your blood sings under your skin when you’re aroused, how your pulse hammers, how your body betrays you even when you’re trying to crawl away.

and fucking you while you’re pregnant is nonnegotiable. he’ll go slow sometimes, murmuring about how delicate you are, but most nights it’s ruthless. bent over the bed, your swollen belly bouncing with every thrust, your breath catching on sobs as he snarls, “takin’ me so good, even with my baby inside ya. gonna stretch ya wider. gonna make room for all the rest.”

he uses your body whenever the urge strikes him. nothing and nowhere is off limits. slides his cock between your thighs while you’re folding baby clothes, or pushes you up against the pantry shelves while dinner’s bubbling on the stove. he’ll slip his fingers between your legs while you’re half-asleep on the couch, or drop to his knees to eat you out right there on the countertop. sometimes he bends you over the bathroom sink, fucking you slow and deep while steam curls around you both, and other times it’s fast, frantic rutting on the front porch as moonlight spills over your bare skin. sometimes he comes just from grinding against you, his fangs scraping your neck, red eyes rolling back as he groans, “can’t help it, baby. can’t fuckin’ help it.”

but remmick never seems satisfied, no matter how many times he takes you. he’ll fuck into you for hours, fingers or tongue or cock never stopping, dragging you over the edge again and again until you’re shaking so hard you can’t hold onto him anymore. even when you’re sobbing, whispering you can’t take any more, he only kisses your temple and murmurs, “just a little longer, darlin’. just one more.” and that’s when he finally bares his fangs and sinks them into your throat, drinking you down as your body convulses around him, making sure the last thing you feel is the bright, dizzy pleasure of giving him everything he wants.

and you want to hate him for it. you know you should. but sometimes, curled against his chest, feeling the weight of his palm over your growing belly, hearing him whisper how you’re his whole world, you wonder if maybe this is love after all.

because you can’t remember what it felt like to breathe without him.

[bucketbueckers]

RECKLESS DRIVING

CHAPTER THREE

content: language, colette roman (affectionate), chris koclanes (derogatory), nai is #noticing, mental health issues, i could really make the girls miscommunicate here but im not gonna do that bc i hate that trope so everyone say thank you, "im your friend" she says as she does very non-friend shit, poorly written hoops/hoops talk, did i mention chris koclanes, god awful proofreading

wc: 8.0k

notes: this lowkey took a while to write but i was feeling like. super resentful and dead inside so i had to reacclimatize with nature (minecraft) and realize the love in my heart is far greater than the hate. aristotle once said we ball so ball is what i will do. i go back to class on the 30th so i have no idea what updates are gonna look like from here on out so just bear with me 😩 but as always i hope y'all enjoy this one and lmk what you think 🫶

tags: @cowboybueckers @indigo491 @wnba-scotland @volleyballgirlsblog @sillystarv @middyprincess @intoblonde6ftwbbplayers @user1269 @fivest4rbuecks @everyonewatchesuconnwbb @lilpaigeyherbo

Cam is a half mile into her morning jog when her music cuts off, her ringtone echoing through her headphones. She barely resists a groan only because she was listening to GIMME A HUG by Drake and she was nearing the beat drop. Whoever is calling better have a good reason to – especially because it’s a quarter ‘til 7 am and she was on do not disturb. She would have to have a serious conversation with her allowed contacts.

She glances down at her watch, softening when she sees that it’s Coley, and she presses the Accept button as she slows herself to a walk. When the call clicks through, Coley’s greeting is instant.

“Livya Camille,” her older sister says, tone a weird mix between teasing and that sisterly Your ass is in trouble. The use of Cam’s full name – like full name – almost makes her trip over her own two feet but she manages to find her footing.

“Colette Leighton,” she grumbles in response. She peers down at her watch again, eyes snagging on the time. “The sun’s barely up, Coley. What did I do to deserve the government name already?”

Coley laughs on the other end of the line, but then she pauses when Cam doesn’t join in, like she was part of an inside joke that she thought Cam was privy to. It makes the younger of the two Roman sisters sweat, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s jogging in the early morning Dallas humidity. “Shit,” Coley says, which doesn’t make Cam feel better at all. “You’re serious?”

“Coley,” Cam whines. Dread fills her veins like ice. Coley wasn’t one to call before 9am, knowing that Cam had a pretty rigorous morning routine that she liked to stick to and that she’d have time before practice. Coley was the same way. Considering that she was in Florida, it was nearing 8am for her, which meant that Coley was supposed to be three sets deep into leg day. “On a scale of ‘just another Tuesday on stan Twitter’ to ‘call your manager immediately and enroll in witness protection,’ how bad is whatever you’re about to tell me?”

Coley hesitates. Cam sighs, running her fingers through the curls on her head. “Remember when Diana Taurasi kissed Seimone Augustus during a game?” she offers tentatively.

“Yes,” Cam croaks, not liking where this is going.

“That’s what’s happening here,” Coley states. “Cam Roman just kissed Seimone Augustus, but instead of, you know, Seimone Augustus, it was Paige Bueckers.”

Cam is silent for an agonizingly long moment, feeling as though she’s been caught red-handed. She didn’t tell anyone. As far as she knew, she and Paige were the only two people who knew that there was a her and Paige, even if it was just for a night. She gets the idea that she was too quiet for too long judging by the sharp intake of breath on Coley’s end of the line, but she doesn’t give her sister the time to speak. “Colette,” she hisses, trying to ignore how her voice shakes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

She can almost imagine the furrow in Coley’s brow. “Okay, first of all, pull that stick out of your ass. Second of all, we’re definitely revisiting how weirdly silent you got when I said you kissed Paige Bueckers–”

“Don’t dig for a story where there isn’t one, Colette–”

“Shhhh!” Coley hushes her. Cam winces at the volume, but purses her lips so as to not run her mouth, feeling something like anxiety and regret bubble in her belly. “Now I know something happened. You only ever call me ‘Colette’ when you’re trying to act grown and if something didn’t happen, you would be tweaking out over me telling you to remove that stick from your ass right now.”

“Coley,” Cam interrupts, silently cursing her sister for how well she knows her. “Please get to the point.”

“Have you been online?” Coley asks. “Like, at all?”

“You know I haven’t. I don’t think I’ve even opened Twitter since my rookie year.”

Coley sighs. “Okay. I think you protected your peace a little too well on this one.”

“If you don’t stop being cryptic and tell me what’s wrong, I’m actually gonna freak the fuck out,” Cam snaps, but her tone is exhausted.

“There’s a few clips circulating of you at Paige’s draft afterparty,” Coley says finally. Cam exhales sharply. She’s not surprised. Not really, but knowing that it’s taken almost two weeks for something to finally surface makes her feel a little better. “It’s nothing insane. But people are obviously speculating because you were there in the first place, since, you know, vets don’t really get invited to afterparties.” Cam doesn’t dignify that with a response. Coley continues, “There’s like, a few blurry shots of the two of you laughing at the bar, the DJ booth, and dancing with a few other people.”

Cam relaxes a little. “Okay, what’s the issue?”

“There wasn’t really one,” Coley confesses. “I mean, there’s a faceless account on Twitter that was created recently. Like recent recent. Like I’ve once chewed on a piece of gum for longer than this account has been active.”

“Gross–”

“Point being,” Coley says, “a faceless account is claiming that the two of you left the party together, which,” she laughs, “sure, I guess. What a weird thing to say.”

“So weird,” Cam agrees robotically, her cheeks heating up.

“And I thought the whole situation was funny,” Coley says. “I mean, if the videos get back to dad, he’s probably going to lay into you for drinking. Something something public image. Family reputation. But, like, I only called because some of these comments are insane.” She clears her throat, as if preparing for a dramatic reading, and Cam presses the heels of her hands to her eyes as she listens. “slut4uconnwbb says, ‘Paige got drafted first overall and she has her fine ass teammate on her arm at the after party. God has favorites.’” Admittedly, that makes Cam snort.

“‘sashawatchesbasketball’ says, ‘am I the only one who finds this so sweet? Cam really does love her rookies. Her and Paige’s on court connection is gonna hit like crack in the 80’s.” Coley giggles before she reads a final one. “According to ballwatcher696969, ‘my friend’s sister’s girlfriend’s brother was at Paige’s afterparty and he said Cam requested pushing P at the DJ booth and Paige didn’t stop blushing for fifteen minutes.’”

Cam doesn’t say anything for a few brief moments before she admits, “I did request pushing P, for the record.”

“And the blushing part?”

Cam’s face feels like it’s on fire. She’s suddenly thankful that she and Coley aren’t on FaceTime. “It was a pretty dark room,” she states weakly.

Coley scoffs. “What aren’t you telling me, Cam? So what, you went to your rookie’s after party. You had a drink or like, five, apparently. You’re acting like you just welcomed her into the league by welcoming her into your pants.”

Cam’s stunned silence speaks for itself. She wracks her brain for something to say – for anything to say, but she comes up blank. Coley’s silence scares her more than she’d like to admit.

“Livya. Camille. Roman,” her older sister says slowly. The use of her full fucking government name makes her want to crawl into a hole and die, but the most she can muster is a whimpered Jesus Christ as she considers how screwed she is. She would never be able to show her face at family dinner ever again. “You slept with your rookie? You fucked Paige Bueckers?”

Cam has half a mind to confess that it was a mutual fucking, but she’s pretty sure that wouldn’t help her case any. What she does settle on is, “Well…you started with the DT comparison. She also slept with her teammate.”

“Oh, my God,” Coley breathes out. “I’m trying to be supportive here and not freak out, but all I can imagine right now is eight year old Cam gagging whenever she watched people kiss on TV. I can’t believe you–”

“–had sex with Paige Bueckers,” Cam finishes dryly. Coley laughs on the other line. “Yes, we established that. Trust me, it’s handled. I freaked out for a week. Considered trading myself to somewhere like the Fever to punish myself. Me and Paige talked about it. We’re cool. It’s not gonna happen again.”

“You talked about it,” Coley echoes. Cam can almost see the shit eating grin on her face. “I’m so sure. And what happens when it does happen again?”

“It won’t,” Cam states. Coley hums, and now Cam wishes they were on FaceTime so she could see her eye roll.

“Having a gay little sister comes with so many perks,” Coley sighs wistfully. “She builds shelves for me. We don’t fight over guys. Every day of her life is reality TV and I don’t have to pay exorbitant prices for streaming services just to be entertained.”

“God,” Cam mutters, shaking her head, feeling nothing short of entirely fucking embarassed. “Don’t you have a workout to do?”

“Yes,” Coley agrees. “Poor, unfortunate, Colette Roman must get her gains in the old fashioned way. It’s such a shame I can’t lay in bed with my teammates like other people do.”

“Goodbye, Coley!”

Before Cam hangs up, Coley shouts into the receiver, “Tell Arike that the next time I’m in Dallas, her drinks are on me! She deserves financial compensation for all the third wheeling she’s about to–”

Cam all but smashes the end call button, and her music cuts back in.

This girl face so pretty, I can only think of fuckin’ missionary

Cam skips the song without hesitation.

The Dallas Wings practice facility is already in full gear for the first day of training camp. The sound hits Cam before anything else does – balls bouncing to different rhythms, the echo of the rubber against polished wood, laughter and friendly trash talk being shared amongst people who have been in the same space for years, and the energetic bass of whatever rap song is playing through someone’s aux. For all of the chaos in the gym, it feels like home.

Almost everyone’s in attendance and ready to go. From the first glance, the rookies seem to be fitting in extremely well – Paige is mid-conversation with DiJonai and NaLyssa, all three of them wearing bright grins, although DiJonai’s is laced with a fond exasperation as Paige makes a joke that makes NaLyssa double over with laughter. Aziaha and JJ are working some defensive drills, and Cam has to admit that JJ’s hustle is impressive. Aaronette and Madison are stretching with Maddy and Ty.

Everyone else is in usual order. Arike is warming up her three point shot with help from Nola Henry, one of their assistant coaches. Cam has yet to forgive her for treason – Nola coached the Rose in Unrivaled, who knocked Cam’s club, the Lunar Owls, out of the playoffs. She supposes she was willing to put their rivalry aside for the sake of the season.

Cam drops her bag off by the bench, tying her hair up as she makes her way across the court to Paige, NaLyssa, and DiJonai. Paige’s eyes drift away and find her first. Her face brightens, the apples of her cheeks popping out as her smile softens, and, less than subtly, DiJonai nudges NaLyssa with her elbow. For the sake of her peace, Cam pretends like she doesn’t notice.

“You guys are hazing the rook and I wasn’t invited?” Cam asks with an exaggerated pout. Paige rolls her eyes. “Not cool, guys. Really feeling the love.”

“Pretty sure you had some one-on-one hazing time of your own,” Nai retorts. NaLyssa snorts.

Cam falters immediately, blinking owlishly at the couple, then turning her attention to Paige, who seems just as caught and shocked as Cam does. “What do you mean?” Cam is surprised by the evenness of her tone.

NaLyssa raises a brow, something mischievous in her gaze as Cam bounces on her heels. “Ain’t y’all play HORSE before her press conference? P said she beat you and couldn’t stop cheesin’.”

Paige and Cam relax at the same time, and a smirk tugs at the corner of Cam’s lips. “Beat is a strong word–” Paige scoffs, but Cam doesn’t stop, shooting her an amused look. “It’s like when a little kid shows you their cartwheel. You have to pretend to be impressed so they feel better about themselves. I just pretended to lose. It was a business decision.”

“That ain’t how I remember it,” Paige states. “Like, at all.” She turns her attention to NaLyssa and DiJonai, and they wear matching expressions that look a lot like the ‘seriously? Right in front of my salad?’ meme. Cam can’t help her flush. “Somebody bricked a full court shot and wanted to talk about some ‘arm strength.’”

DiJonai nods slowly, her nose wrinkling up. “I see what this is about,” she says, glancing back and forth between Cam and Paige.

“Nai–” Cam begins, but DiJonai cuts her off with a wave of her hand. She has a knowing smile on her face, but she wouldn’t say anything out loud. She’s not messy like that – she and Cam had spent enough time at Stanford together to know that. Cam just knows that she and DiJonai are going to have a really long conversation about this later.

“I have to go tape my ankle,” DiJonai says, even though there’s nothing wrong with her ankle at all. Cam narrows her eyes, but DiJonai just bats her lashes innocently. “Come help me, Lyss.”

NaLyssa doesn’t even argue – she falls into step with DiJonai, almost as though there was some sort of silent exchange between them. Cam huffs, shaking her head, but she’s grateful that DiJonai didn’t really say anything, even though everyone knew what she was about to say.

Paige hums, propping the ball up on her hip. She meets Cam’s gaze. “She knows, doesn’t she?”

Cam sighs, nodding. “Fucking Stanford psychology degree,” she mutters. “You can’t even think about lying to her. I swear to God she can smell it.”

Paige smiles reassuringly, still looking incredibly calm about the fact that their teammate just found out there was something going on between them. She nudges Cam gently, checking the ball to her, and Cam dribbles it around her legs half-heartedly. “On the bright side,” Paige starts, looking every bit the menace that Cam has come to know her as, “she can’t really say shit, right? She’s datin’ her teammate and sleeping with her. That’s so much worse.”

Cam scoffs, but the sound is more amused than anything else. She steps closer to the free throw line in front of her. Her shot is automatic, and Paige rebounds for her when it goes through the net. “Maybe we need to be…less obvious,” she suggests, her voice a little tentative.

She shoots again, and the ball is back in her hands immediately. She looks up to find Paige’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Less obvious?” she echoes. Another swish. “How can we be less obvious?”

“I don’t know,” Cam says honestly. She shoots the ball again but it clangs harmlessly off the rim. She groans, accepting the rebound from Paige, and checking it back to her after they swap spots. Paige’s first shot is effortless. “I’ve been clocked twice today and it’s not even 10am. First by Coley, now Nai–”

“Hold on,” Paige interrupts, throwing up the timeout sign with her hands. “Your sister knows?”

“I panicked!” Cam shouts in a whisper, waving her arms. “She called me this morning. There were a few clips of us at your party posted online and some fake Twitter account was saying that we left together. Then she was asking why I was being all weird about it and she goes, ‘you’re acting like you just welcomed her into the league by welcoming her into your pants.’ What was I supposed to say to that?”

Despite herself, Paige can’t help but laugh. It sounds a little strained, though, like she’s trying to force it for the sake of reassurance, and she grins in a way that reminds Cam of someone who’s trying to keep it together. Nai might have been the psychology major of the two, but Cam minored in it, thank you very much, so she likes to think that she reads Paige better than she thinks she does.

Cam strips the ball from Paige with little preamble, holding it against her side as she makes eye contact with the younger rookie. “What’s wrong?” Cam asks, genuinely trying for a soothing tone, but Paige’s sudden anxiety is making her anxious. “You just got all tense.”

Paige shakes her head, attempting a smile that Cam sees right through. “I’m good,” she lies. “Trust. Training camp jitters.”

Cam scoffs, taking a step closer to the blonde and lowering her voice to a whisper. “Paige, you could brick every single shot you take this week. You could break your foot trying to dunk on Teaira. You could literally fist fight me in the parking lot and you’d still be a starter. Everyone here loves you. You and I both know whatever just made you sweat wasn’t ‘training camp jitters.’”

Paige stares at her, some unrecognizable emotion swimming in her blue eyes, before her features, soften, relenting. She rubs the back of her neck with a caught expression on her face. “You and Nai are so fuckin’ scary,” she mutters, trying for humor, but Cam doesn’t bite. She just raises a brow, and Paige glances at the rest of the team imperceptibly.

Cam sighs. “Let’s go wrap your knee,” she says. Paige doesn’t even argue. She follows her wordlessly to the trainer’s office, which is miraculously empty. Cam flicks on the light, already rummaging through the drawer for tape, and Paige hoists herself onto the padded table. She’s silent as Cam tears off enough tape to wrap around her knee, but all it takes is one raised brow from Cam to make Paige fold.

“People know,” Paige states obviously. Cam has half a mind to interrupt and tell Paige that’s the only thing she’s been able to think about for a week, but she clamps her mouth shut. Her fingers drum against her thigh while she searches for the right thing to say. “It’s not just Nai. Or your sister. But the media and everyone on Twitter? That makes me feel so out of control. I was tryna be cool about it, but it just…” Paige sighs. “I should be used to it, you know? Not having privacy, I mean. People looking for a story. They’re gonna ask questions, speculate things that I ain’t even figured out yet.” She swallows thickly. “Sometimes, it makes me feel like a stranger in my own skin.”

Her words settle in Cam’s bones like a leaden anchor. She gets it, she really does. She understands it more than she thinks Paige thinks she understands. Cam has never been good with the media attention nor has she ever been able to fully accept the fact that her job intersects more with the entertainment industry than it does sports. She lives and breathes the game in its rawest form – any hard loss is always accompanied by honeyed words to placate vulturous reporters and demanding spectators who just want more, more, more.

She hates that this is what’s happened to the game that she loves. She hates what it’s done to her. She hates what it’s doing to Paige, who appears so calm and cool on the outside, but a mask like that only comes from years of learning how to box up the most intimate parts of yourself and hide them away from anyone with hands too dirty to touch. The harsh truth is that it’s just part of the game they’ve all chosen to play, even if it feels like there’s an aching chasm in between your skin and your bones because your body can’t quite determine what it’s supposed to be and what it wants to be.

Cam finishes wrapping Paige’s knee, but she doesn’t realize how her hands linger on Paige’s skin, her fingers pressing into the muscle in a way that makes Paige’s shoulders sag. They’re both silent for a moment, letting the weight of Paige’s confession sink in. Finally, Cam’s hands still, and Paige glances up. “You never really get used to it,” she says. “Being the center of attention yet somehow feeling like you’re on the outside looking in. You just learn how to protect what’s important to you and sometimes that means giving less of yourself away to people who don’t deserve to see you.” Paige swallows thickly. “Are you ashamed of what we did?”

Paige scoffs, actually sounding indignant, and her eyes flash with something Cam can’t quite place. Hurt, maybe. Surprise. “No,” she responds. Cam can tell she means it. “But you’re the one saying ‘we can’t let this happen again’ and ‘maybe we should be less obvious.’ That sounds like shame to me.”

Cam breathes evenly through her nose, feeling the sting of the accusation and her own guilt land like blows. “I’m trying to protect us,” Cam says heatedly, watching Paige blink in shock. “I’m not ashamed of what we did. I’m not ashamed of you. I was trying to see where your head was at. You think I don’t get it, Paige, but God, I do. I have fought for years just to be able to say that I’m still me, that there’s a piece of me that’s for me only that the media hasn’t touched.” Paige’s features soften with understanding. Cam sighs, trying to find the words. “I’m not trying to make a decision for both of us,” she says honestly. “You have a voice. If something isn’t working for you, tell me. I told you that you didn’t have to prove anything to me.”

Cam pauses, glancing down at Paige, who peers up at her with residual guilt yet blinding trust. Cam feels something warm in her chest, but she thinks nothing of it, trying to keep her voice steady. “Right now,” she murmurs, not breaking eye contact, “you are my priority, so we’re going to keep this clean. Not because we’re ashamed or because we regret it or because it was a mistake – but because this is ours, and we need to be careful. You’re important to me.” Cam hesitates, wetting her lips, and she adds, “You’re important to this team. I could never forgive myself if I hurt you and put everything – put you – at risk. Okay?”

Paige nods, which makes Cam frown, her brows tenting. “I need to hear you say it,” Cam says softly. “Please just say something – literally anything. Even if it’s just something really annoying about me fucking up your tape.”

That manages to draw a laugh from Paige, whose shoulders relax slightly. Cam feels like she can relax, too, her anxiety dissipating. “Okay,” Paige agrees. Her word elicits a smile from Cam. “Sorry for accusing you of being ashamed. I shouldn’t have said that. I was just…overthinking.”

“Don’t apologize for being honest with me,” Cam states. “Least of all for getting in your head. I just want you to know you can talk to me. But since we’re apologizing…I’m sorry for making decisions without you. I should have asked if you were really okay with them or if you wanted to add something.” Paige’s gaze shines a little when they make eye contact. “I’m your vet, not your authority. I’m your friend. You’re allowed to disagree with me or tell me when I’m fucking up. I’d really appreciate it if you did, actually.”

“Well,” Paige whispers, her smile soft and mischievous, “my tape is a little tight.”

Cam scoffs, rolling her eyes, but she can’t stop smiling as she gingerly peels the tape off and reapplies it until Paige gives her a thumbs up. Cam isn’t really thinking – ironic how that’s become a pattern as of late – when she bends down and presses the barest hint of a kiss to Paige’s knee. Paige’s cheeks are a little red when she leans back up, and suddenly feeling nauseous with emotion, Cam’s voice is gruff when she says, ��Try not to fuck up your knee during camp. My splint skills are a lot worse than my tape skills.”

“Got it,” Paige says, her voice cracking a little. “I know who’s not gonna be my emergency contact.”

Cam offers a slight smile, but the both of them can hear the bleating sound of a whistle through the office doors. While it makes them flinch, they know it’s their cue, so Paige slides off the table and follows Cam back to the court. The rest of the team is already circled up around Chris and the two of them squeeze in next to Arike, DiJonai, and NaLyssa. Cam pretends to not notice DiJonai’s questioning look, but Paige nonchalantly points to her taped up knee, and DiJonai seems to accept it.

Chris Koclanes is dressed in a pair of shorts and a Wings sweatshirt, and he’s clutching a rolled up stack of paper in his hand. Cam hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time with him one on one, only knowing from their brief conversation during her re-signing that he was a defensive minded coach. Given that Cam’s bread and butter was defense, she had high hopes.

“Hello, everyone,” Chris starts, trying for a smile. “Welcome to the first day of training camp. I’m excited to get to work and I hope you are too. First, I’d like to introduce this season’s coaching staff.” He starts with himself, then introduces assistant coaches Nola Henry, Camille Smith, and Belle Koclanes. Then, he introduces the strength and conditioning coach, the trainers, and the physicians. “Our rookies – let’s get a hand for Paige, Aziaha, Madison, Aaronette, and JJ.”

The team breaks into raucous applause for the rookies, with NaLyssa shaking Paige by the shoulders excitedly, who seems to be in better spirits following their conversion. Even Chris is smiling as he raises a hand, trying to quiet the team. “You should all be proud of yourselves,” he continues. “But today, we work. We’re a young team. We have an identity to establish. We’re going to play together this season and do it with grit and passion. Today, we’re going to start with a group warm-up and run through a few scrimmages.”

Nola is already reaching for the resistance bands but pauses in confusion when Chris says, “I want everyone to take a seat.”

Clearly, everyone else is just as confused, too, as it takes a few seconds for the Wings to spread out and take a seat on the court. Paige’s knee brushes Cam as they lower themselves to the ground. Chris rests his palms over his knees, looking like someone out of a scammy wellness video on YouTube, and Cam’s jaw all but drops as he says, “Close your eyes and take a deep breath.”

Cam locks eyes with Arike, who’s biting back a snicker, then to Nola, who looks nothing short of perplexed. Reluctantly, she closes her eyes as Chris speaks. “Basketball is a sport. A physical one. It’s a battle of runs. But most importantly, it’s a mental game. I want us to be one on the court – connected with not only ourselves, but our teammates, too. We’re like an ocean. Calm on the surface, but beneath it, we are a tidal wave of power, ready to crash over whoever doubts us. We play as one unit, one team, for one purpose.

“Everyone on the team has a voice,” Chris states. “I want you all to lead from where you are. Whether it’s rookie, vet, or somewhere in between, you are all leaders. This will be a player run team and through this, we will succeed.”

Chris keeps on talking, but Cam blinks one eye open, scanning the court. Myisha is nodding like she’s feeling Chris’s words in her bones. Arike has tears streaming down her face, face turning red from the effort of not bursting into laughter completely. Paige’s jaw is slack, like she can’t fully process the fact that she just went from Geno “You Wear 5 And Nika Wears 10 Because You’re Half The Defender She Is” Auriemma to Chris “Be One With The Ball” Koclanes.

And Cam? She just hopes that Lisa Leslie is smiling on a beach somewhere.

After a few moments of team breathing that Cam only half heartedly commits to, they run through the actual warm ups with interval sprints, the resistance bands, and a few drills. Then, Chris assigns teams for the first scrimmage against the practice players. Paige, Arike, Cam, NaLyssa, and Teaira are the first squad in.

At first, it’s kind of a mess. Chris’s “every player has a voice” mentality seems to roughly translate to “the coach’s play calling is based on vibes and tarot.” He’s standing on the sidelines with his arms crossed as he watches the game play out, not really calling any offensive plays or offering much of anything. Paige dribbles near half court, directing traffic despite the lack of instruction – Arike’s on the far right wing and after shaking her defender, she cuts around the perimeter, accepting the hand off from Paige, and Cam plants her feet firmly in between her own defender and Arike’s incoming one. It gives her enough space to shoot the three, which is money.

Defensively, they’re a little more cohesive. They’re in a zone set and Cam clamps up her assignment every time he gets his hands on the ball. After Paige calls for a switch, Cam even gets her hand up in time to deflect the shot and she’s lobbing the ball up court to Paige, who lays it in with ease.

The connection isn’t instant. Cam fumbles through a few passes to Paige and fucks up a screen or two just because she’s not quite sure on how Paige is positioning herself. Paige, similarly, misses Cam on a few open cuts and surprises her with a slick behind the back pass that she wasn’t ready for.

But for now, they know enough. Cam knows that Paige is a pass first guard. If she’s not setting a screen, then she’s always moving, trusting that Paige will find her. She knows she likes her middies, so she’s doing her best to get active and cause enough congestion that she gets Paige the open look. 

Every play helps them read each other a little bit better – helps them read the team a little bit better. NaLyssa starts getting a few more touches and Teaira’s height is dominant in the paint. They run a few more possessions before they’re subbed out for a different rotation, and Cam can feel her shirt sticking to her back as they walk to the sidelines for water.

Cam pats Paige’s hip when she passes by, breathing heavily, her neck flushed. “Good job on finding everyone, rook,” she says, dropping down into the bench less than gracefully. Paige follows suit.

She shrugs, although there’s a tentative, bashful smile on her face. “Wasn’t expecting you to pop on that last possession,” she admits. “I thought you’d curl.”

“I happen to be a deceptive three point shooter,” Cam says, flicking her wrist dramatically. Paige laughs. “I know I’m super tall and should be a paint warrior–” Paige rolls her eyes at this, as if she’s not shorter than Cam, “–but I’m solid from the line. Sarah Strong junior, if you will.” Cam pauses. “Or senior, I guess.”

Paige blinks. “That’s actually…kinda helpful.”

Cam grins. “First day. What are you noticing?”

“I haven’t been yelled at this entire time,” Paige says. “It’s kinda making me uncomfortable. If Coach–” Paige pauses, frowning, “–if Geno saw me miss you on that pop he would have asked me if I left my brain in Minnesota.”

Cam snorts. “I meant about the team,” she clarifies. “How everyone’s moving. But if you want I can work on my Geno Auriemma impression. I feel like it’s a lot like Sue Sylvester’s.” Cam’s expression turns deadpan as she imitates, “You think this is hard? Try being waterboarded. That’s hard.”

Paige laughs, the apples of her cheeks popping out as she leans back on her chair. “Feels like I’m home already,” she jokes, her smile softening. “I noticed that you’re everywhere on the court.” Cam honestly wasn’t expecting that one, but she listens as Paige elaborates. “You’re constantly moving. Screening and cutting. You’re trying to make yourself as open as possible. Your off-ball movement is really good.”

“My high school coach used to say ‘if you’re not movin,’ you’re losin,’” Cam says, smiling at the memory. “The offense gets stagnant if everyone’s just standing in the corner waiting for something to happen. Or you run into the issue where everyone’s rotating around the perimeter, handing the ball off to each other and dribbling the entire shot clock out. You could probably get away with that in college, but in the league? You’re gonna get doubled on every possession and have no one to kick it out to because nobody’s moving. What else?”

Paige nods, a focused look in her eyes. “Transition defense,” she says. “We collapsed a few times. We need to be more vocal.”

“It’ll come,” Cam says, assured. “It’s the first day of camp. Brand new roster.” She tries to keep her voice neutral when she says, “New coach.” Paige hears it, because of course she does, but she smiles knowingly anyway. “Just keep trusting your gut and keep hustling. We’re gonna figure it out.”

Paige nods again, her smile softening as she takes a sip from her water. As the rest of the scrimmage plays on, Cam’s next to her and narrating the play, asking Paige what she could do differently or if she’d make a different read. Paige’s court vision is a lot better than hers, but by the time Coach subs them back in to practice with JJ, Maddy, and Myisha, Cam can tell that Paige is a lot more confident. She finds her more often at the line or when she’s cutting. Cam has a better feel for Paige’s court presence, so her screens are tighter, more effective.

They’re both soaked through their jerseys by the time the first day of camp ends. As rough as the first day was, Cam can’t help but feel a little accomplished. She and Paige were clicking. Paige was making connections with NaLyssa, DiJonai, and learning to read Arike, too. They would polish up the rest and it would come with time. The coaching staff needs time to adjust, too, she reasons. Maybe Chris just wanted to see how they operated when the PG had full control. Maybe they’d run through actual plays tomorrow.

Either way, Cam is hopeful. The chemistry would come the more they played together and the more they interacted with one another. She wasn’t going to make assumptions about the way the season would go just from one training camp practice. Between her, Paige, Arike, and the rest of the roster, she genuinely feels like they could go a long way if they were able to polish things up.

The rest of the week passes similarly. There are a few cuts made during camp, but Cam just tries to stay focused on her game and building relationships with all of the new players on the team. They’re all improving, as a team and as individuals, and things become so much more clearer when they start running actual plays.

Paige is growing into her role immediately, a fact that Cam can’t help but to be proud of, especially because she knows that she’s positively influencing Paige’s transition to the league. While Paige would always be a better point guard than she is, she has a lot of league experience playing around and with the position, so she’s able to offer some guidance on how Paige can improve her game. They dissect plays during timeouts, break down points in their own mistakes, and work on reading each other’s body languages. Cam is confident that if you just give the both of them another week or two, they’d be one of the scariest guard-forward duos in the league.

The end of training camp has always been capped off with a team dinner. It’s a Wings tradition, one that started before Cam and one that she’s definitely upholding this season. Cam and Arike were splitting the bill, a fact that she’s sure someone will undoubtedly be upset by.

Cam dresses in comfort – a sleeveless, ruffled white crop top and baggy light wash blue jeans, and catches a ride with Maddy since their apartments are close by. The restaurant they were going to was (unsurprisingly) a tex mex place, purely because everyone thought the reporters’ obsession with it was hilarious.

When she and Maddy arrive, the hostess leads them to their reserved table in the back, where a few of their teammates await. There’s an empty seat next to Paige that Maddy looks like she’s about to sit in, but DiJonai waves her over with a startling swiftness and a wink sent in Cam’s direction. Cam rolls her eyes, but dutifully takes the seat next to Paige, who’s poring over the menu with furrowed brows.

“They don’t have this in Storrs?” Cam asks teasingly, and Paige huffs out a laugh. She’s wearing a pair of purple framed glasses and an all grey sweatsuit, which honestly shocks Cam because – hello? The weather?

“Nah,” she says, lips twitching with a smile. “We got farmland and shit. And the best women’s basketball team in the country.”

“Weird,” Cam hums. “I thought Stanford was in California.”

Paige taps her chin thoughtfully. “That’s not what the national championship trophy says. You know, the one UConn won?”

Cam sniffs, opening her own menu and breaking eye contact. “A girl wins one chip and she thinks she’s indestructible,” she sighs.

From across the table, DiJonai clears her throat. Loudly. Cam and Paige look up in tandem, their gazes settling on DiJonai’s amused expression. “Yes, we’re here too,” she says dryly. “I’m doing great, thanks for asking.”

“Should I get the mac and cheese or the greens?” Paige asks, fighting to keep her face neutral as DiJonai rolls her eyes.

There’s mixed answers from the table. Paige raises a brow, clearly not expecting that, and she glances over at Cam, who shrugs. “I’d get the greens,” she says. “They top their mac with breadcrumbs and I don’t fuck with that.”

Paige wrinkles her nose, but closes her menu with finality. The team is swept up in conversation as they wait for everyone else to show up. Arike is animatedly retelling a story about something Chris said in practice, much to the howling laughter of everyone else, and Cam feels something like peace settle in her chest.

She meant it when she said she’d love to win with these girls. She and Arike have been the cornerstones of this team ever since the both of them got drafted. They’ve been through a lot over the years between offseason adjustments and coaching staff changes, but now, with DiJonai and NaLyssa and Paige and Maddy and Aziaha, along with everyone else on their roster, Cam truly feels like something might be shifting into place.

They’re young. Preseason hasn’t even started yet. She knows nothing is set in stone – injuries are always a fear and she knows a few of her teammates have obligations to Euro Bucket and national teams. But Cam also knows that she hasn’t felt a feeling of confidence this strong ever since they made it to the playoffs in 2023. She’s sure that feeling stems from the blonde guard sitting in the chair next to her more than she’d like to admit.

Their food arrives and the laughter continues. Everyone gradually relaxes, sharing more jokes and random stories from college, and this feeling right here? If Cam could bottle it up and hold onto it forever, she’s sure that she would. She didn’t know what the Wings would have in store for her if she re-signed with them, but she’s really glad that she did.

Eventually, dinner wraps up, and their waitress returns with the two checks for Cam and Arike. Paige is already reaching for it – bless her heart – but Cam swats her hand with a swiftness that shocks the both of them. She slides her card in before Paige can protest any further and hands it back to the waitress. Paige just grins, and despite herself, Cam does too.

Spirits are still high as everyone embraces each other, getting ready to say goodbye, but when Cam turns to Paige, the blonde has one hand in her pocket and her keys dangling from the other one. “Need a ride?” she asks, barely concealed hope in her expression.

Cam turns to Maddy, who’s locked in conversation with DiJonai. DiJonai catches her gaze and whispers something into Maddy’s ear – Cam’s not worried, she’s confident that Nai wouldn’t be messy, and Maddy waves her off with her hand and a smile. Cam turns back to her rookie, a soft smile on her face. “I’d like that,” she confirms. Paige’s smile is a little too tender, and Cam tries her hardest not to think too much about it.

That attempt at being normal fails the moment Paige opens the passenger side door for her. Cam’s sure there’s a flush on her cheeks that’s as bright as the city lights, but she remembers their conversation from earlier in the week. They’d keep it clean. They weren’t going to complicate their friendship anymore than it already was.

Paige slides into the driver’s seat, turning the ignition on. “Aux?” she asks Cam, holding up the cord, and Cam allows herself a coy smile.

“Do you really want me on aux?” she asks, her tone knowing.

Paige glances at her, narrowing her eyes. Wordlessly, she plugs her own phone in and starts scrolling through a few of her playlists until she settles on one. The soft sounds of SZA’s Normal Girl fills Paige’s Jeep as she easily backs out of her spot, merging onto the road. For a moment, neither of them speak – Paige hums along to the song, and Cam is content to just be. It’s times like this when the world slows down and night falls that she feels a little more like herself and less like who she has to be to survive.

Cam glances over at the blonde, whose eyes are focused on the road ahead. The street lights reflect off her glasses, the angular slope of her jaw, and despite how the world has forced her to toughen up, she looks soft. Not in the I can’t handle this kind of way – in the I’m letting my guard down because I know I can trust you kind of way. That thought makes Cam feel a lot more grateful.

Breaking the silence of the moment is harder than she’d like to admit, but her voice is hardly above a whisper when she says, “You did really well this week.”

Paige meets her eyes briefly, a sheepish smile on her face, like she wasn’t expecting Cam to speak let alone say that. “Yeah?” she asks quietly.

“Don’t fish for compliments.”

Paige laughs gently. “I’m not! Just tryna know how I can be better.”

Cam huffs, but the sound is amused. “We’d be here all night, then,” she says jokingly. Paige’s jaw drops, her expression full of indignance, and Cam’s laughter echoes in the car. She pauses for a moment to gather her thoughts. “I know this isn’t helpful at all, but you play like a vet. I could sit here and nitpick at your game just from what I’ve seen during camp even though we both know the league’s not going to slow down for you.”

“I don’t want it to,” Paige says honestly.

Cam looks at her, at the quiet determination in how her jaw is set. “I know,” she agrees. “I’m not gonna sit here and lecture you about how fast and physical the league is. You know that. But rookies come in all the time, hot off of their college season, and think they can handle forty-plus games of league play. By the end of October, you’ll have been playing basketball nonstop for a year. That wears on your body. Be honest with yourself and with staff when you need a break.”

Paige nods silently, not having to ask for elaboration. She knows what Cam means. The risk of injury. Of overuse, burnout, everything in between. “You’ll hate this advice,” Cam continues, her lips twitching into a smirk. “But everything just takes time. Once you get comfortable and stop with that humble hooper bullshit, you’ll be really scary.”

Paige scoffs, a smile creeping onto her face. “Humble hooper bullshit? Nah.”

Cam laughs. “Paige, you’d be wide open for three and you’d pass to someone an inch closer to the hoop. You did that three times in the last two days of camp and the ball didn’t make it back to you once. One scoreless possession like that is something that shapes the entire game. You’ve gotta hunt for your shot as much as you try to hunt for others. Nobody eats if everyone’s passing the plate.”

“You’re watchin’ me?” Paige asks, trying for a lighthearted tone, but it falls short, like she’s genuinely touched that Cam is actually investing in her.

“Of course,” she responds. “Just trying to make sure we didn’t fuck up by drafting you over Kaitlyn Chen.” Paige laughs, adjusting her glasses as she stops at a red light. She takes the moment to glance over at Cam, whose smile softens. “I just want you to remember that you’re exactly who you think you are. Whether you’re winning or losing, shooting lights out or bricking everything – especially when you’re bricking everything – you are not worth less. You’re not letting anyone down by not being perfect. We’re not gonna win everything this season. It’ll take time.”

The light turns green and Paige presses down on the accelerator. “Feels like you’re in my head,” she says softly, her tone lacking its usual playful bite.

“I’ve been there,” Cam says. “Fresh off of a natty and exhausted. My mental was terrible and things weren’t immediately clicking. The difference between me and you is I didn’t have a vet in my corner who’d lived it to tell me I’d be okay.”

“Will I?” Paige asks.

“Be okay?” Cam clarifies, and Paige nods, an uncharacteristic hesitation on her face. Cam doesn’t hesitate before she says, “Yeah. You will be. Just remember who kept you humble when you’re Rookie of the Year.”

That makes Paige laugh, the slight tension in the car dissolving. “Thanks, Cam,” Paige whispers.

Cam doesn’t say anything – she doesn’t have to. SZA keeps playing over the radio in soft tones and the gentle hum of Paige’s voice makes Cam sink further into that ever present feeling of peace that she’s felt all night. Part of her is almost disappointed when Paige pulls into the parking lot of her apartment complex, pulling as close to the front door as she can. The rumble of the engine fades into background noise.

“Thank you for the ride,” Cam says.

Paige’s beaming grin makes it all worth it. “Of course,” she murmurs. Cam pushes the passenger door open, stepping out cautiously and shutting it. She pokes her head through the open window, wishing the night could go on forever. “See you in practice tomorrow?”

“God willing,” she jokes with a lopsided smile. “Have a good night, rook.”

Paige’s smile is gentle, returning the farewell in full, and she doesn’t pull away from the curb until Cam buzzes herself into her building. Even after she makes it up to her apartment, getting ready for a shower and her nightly routine, her smile doesn’t fade.

[fuddaroundandgetbueckets]

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: Sexual content, swearing probably

WC: ~5K

A/N: I suck at updating so whoever is reading and liking this series is a real one 😊 kisses love you all. I am ovulating clearly lmao. Song is unrelated I just have it on loop this week cause Brandy has always been that girl. Jealous P confirmed in pt 13 🤞🙂‍↕️

A Long Time Coming Part 12 – DTR? No.

Fall – 2022

“What do you –”

Swoosh.

“Mean –”

Swoosh.

“Amari and Aaliyah –”

Clunk.

“Caught you and Azzi –”

Swoosh.

“Making out –”

Clunk.

“And I wasn’t there?” Nika asked incredulously, turning her body towards Paige with her hands on her hips.

The pair stood in the practice gym alone, Paige passing balls to Nika as she practiced her mid-range.

Paige rolled her eyes. “You’re being weird.” She let out an amused chuckle at Nika’s offended face.

“And you’re in love with your best friend.”

Paige blinked at her, mouth agape. “Dude.”

Nika raised a brow. “What? I thought we were stating facts.”

Paige gave her a flat look and chucked her next ball. “You can talk crap when you can make three shots in a row.”

Nika twirled the ball in her hand, turning back to the rim. “It’s not talking crap if it’s the truth.”

Swoosh.

Nika turned her head to face Paige, catching her next ball easily before pausing. “Cause it’s true, right?”

Paige sighed, “Nika.”

They locked eyes. The air of teasing had left, and a look of understanding remained. Nika placed the ball under her arm, tilting her head. “You love her, don’t you?”

Paige pursed her lips, kicking invisible dust on the ground. The weight of Nika’s question was too heavy, the silence that followed was too loud.

What was she supposed to say?

The simple answer was that yes, she loved Azzi.

Was she supposed to admit out loud that her time spent without Azzi was just her quietly waiting to be with her again? That even now, helping Nika practice, a small part of her brain was acutely aware of Azzi lifting in the weight room nearby. That she already had an extra water bottle filled with Azzi’s favorite electrolyte flavor to hand her when she drove them both home later, where she would pretend like she hadn’t thought to do so since she woke up this morning.

Was she supposed to talk about how she had thought about her hands tracing Azzi’s underwear every delightful time her brain remembered? The noises she had made making imprints on her mind, her fast breaths branding the skin of her neck. How if she could properly put weight on her knee she would have already been on the floor, taking her in her mouth to show her how much she wanted her.

No – she couldn’t admit any of that. Because the way she felt about Azzi wasn’t just love.

She wanted to care for her, adore her, worship her.

She was so deep, so foregone, so in love with Azzi Fudd it was borderline sickening.

Nika let out an exasperated sigh at Paige’s prolonged silence. Turning back to the rim, she asked, “So, what happened after they caught you?”

Swoosh.

Paige thought back to two weeks ago, remembering Amari and Aalyiah’s high-pitched squeals and eardrum-breaking, inquisitive yelling.

“When did this happen?”

“HOW did this happen?”

“Are you guys dating?”

“Can I officiate the wedding?”

“No, I want to.”

“We both can.”

“Fine.”

Paige and Azzi stared at the pair, still keeping an arms-length of distance between each other. Paige cleared her throat, feeling her heart pulsing in her ears. “Can you guys just…not tell anyone?”

Azzi snapped her to face to her then, wide-eyed. Paige didn’t break her eye contact with Azzi as she spoke to the girls on the couch. “We’re still…figuring things out. Just us.”

A hush fell over Amari and Aalyiah as they watched Paige and Azzi give each other soft smiles.

“This is so adorable, it’s disgusting,” Amari whispered. Aalyiah simply hummed.

“They were chill about it,” Paige told Nika. “I asked them not to say anything ‘cause we’re still figuring it out.”

Nika grabbed the ball out of Paige’s hand, beginning to dribble in circles around her.

“And what exactly are you ‘figuring out’?”

Paige paused again, crossing her arms. “What is this, twenty questions?”

“This me, helping you process your emotions like an adult so you can finally date the girl you’ve been wanting for years.”

Paige grimaced to herself at the honesty in Nika's words.

Obviously if she could, she would’ve claimed Azzi to be her girl, like, yesterday. But everything happening with Azzi was uncharted territory, and Paige would be damned if she crossed a line on accident. She needed to make sure Azzi was comfortable, she needed her clearance. Plus, who was Paige to complain? She was routinely hooking up with the most beautiful girl in the world who was seemingly into her as well. Life could be substationonally worse.

Paige shifted on her feet, feeling slightly uncomfortable in expressing herself. “Az and I are good right now. I’m happy, she’s happy. We’ll have ‘the talk’ when it feels right, that’s all.”

Nika hummed. “And the next time she gets asked out or hit on, what then?”

Paige scoffed, “Now, why would you say some dumb shit like that?”

Nika chuckled to herself, dribbling the ball down the court, and away from Paige. “Look at you, all jealous over a hypothetical. Green isn’t your color, P!”

Paige watched her make a layup at the basket, her jaw unintentionally tense. She rubbed at it, feeling a bit ridiculous at how easily she became jealous over the concept of someone approaching Azzi.

Whatever.

Paige and Nika turned their heads as they heard the loud echo of the exit doors opening. Aubrey and Azzi stood in the doorway, shirt sleeves rolled up to their shoulders and curls slightly matted to their foreheads from the heavy lift they just had.

Paige, respectfully, wanted to jump Azzi.

Azzi beamed at Paige as they locked eyes. “We’re getting Chipotle, you guys want to come?”

Paige, her feet unconsciously already making their way towards Azzi, grinned and removed her car keys from her pocket. “I’ll drive.”

--------------------------

The four girls sat at the campus Chipotle, their conversation gone silent as they scarfed down their burrito bowls. Prior to this, Paige had rushed to the register and slammed her credit card down to pay for everyone (primarily Azzi) and had elicited groans from Aubrey and Nika. The small, grateful smile from Azzi was worth it.

The pair sat close as usual, Paige’s hand finding itself on Azzi’s thigh under the table in between bites, unbeknownst to Nika and Aubrey across from them.

(It was completely obvious).

(At first sitting down, Paige dragged Azzi’s chair by the leg so that their thighs could touch even though they were a completely respectable space apart. Nika had rolled her eyes and Aubrey and raised her brows into her diet coke, while Azzi blushed with a mouthful of tortilla chips).

“Dance team is hosting a little darty. Think we should stop by,” Aubrey said, breaking the silence. Her face turned red as three pairs of eyes turned to her.

“Dance team?” Paige asked, a mischievous smile playing on her face. Aubrey had talked to her about a girl she was interested in on the team, Rachel or something.

Aubrey gave her a pointed look, as in, shut up Bueckers, and continued, “Yeah, they’re cool. We should show face, I dunno.”

Azzi shrugged, the silent exchange between Paige and Aubrey going unnoticed by her. “Hm, I don’t know. I have some homework to do, and I feel so gross from lift.”

Paige gave her a sidelong glance before turning to Aubrey. “Yeah, we should go. Dance team girls are chill.”

Nika shrugged, uncaring. “I’m down but let me finish my bowl first.”

Azzi scrunched her brows at Paige, whom she had plans to “study” with after lift. As much as Paige wanted to immediately lay in bed and cuddle with Azzi after a long day of classes and practice, she had to pull out her wing woman card for Aubrey. Aubrey never disclosed liking anyone, and her showing not only interest but also initiative in getting to know someone was monumental.

She nudged her shoulder with Azzi’s, giving her a small smile as their friends turned back to their food. “We’ll go for a little and then study, okay?” she said quietly. Azzi pursed her lips before nodding slowly.

Had their friends not been there, she would have given her a soft peck on the lips and cheek to reward her for going with the flow and looking so pretty under the Chipotle fluorescent lights. Instead, she squeezed the top of Azzi’s knee and patted her on the back.

“Finish up your food, princess. You take forever to eat.”

--------------------------

Azzi did not finish her food, so she made Paige carry her to-go bag as they stepped foot onto the Dance Team house lawn.

Two speakers were blearing some rap song Azzi vaguely recognized was trending on Tik Tok, and the lawn was littered with red solo cups and girls in crop tops, jeans, and AF1s. Azzi felt miserably out of place in her UConn lift uniform that was semi-matte from her dried sweat, and her haphazard bun with hair that had lost its curl pattern hours ago. To her side, Nika looked unimpressed and unbothered as she chewed gum and eyed everyone suspiciously with a hand at her hip.

To her other side, Paige and Aubrey were whispering to each other conspiratorially. She scrunched her face in confusion.

Paige and Azzi had been hooking up for two weeks now, keeping their secret rendezvous to themselves. Most nights, Paige found herself in Azzi’s bed or vice versa, and Azzi had never felt closer or more infatuated with her best friend. To her benefit, when Amari and Aalyiah had caught them making out, at least she had people to talk to about it. By talk about it, that meant mostly being grilled on when they would be defining whatever they were doing.

Bits of her last conversation regarding Paige with Amari and Aalyiah flooded her mind.

“Are you going to have ‘the talk’?”

“I don’t know, maybe?”

“Do you want to date her?”

“Guys, we’re just having fun right now. Relax.”

"Ah yes, Azzi Fudd. Notorious for going with the flow."

Azzi threw a pillow at both of them.

“But you like her?”

Azzi blushed. “Obviously.”

“Do you want to be exclusive?”

“You’re both annoying."

A pause.

"But yes.”

Now, sitting on a fence ledge on the side of the lawn with Nika as Paige and Aubrey laughed with a gaggle of Dance Team girls, Azzi felt slightly nauseous. Paige stood there, looking tall and confident as ever, holding tightly onto her Chipotle bag as she gave a brunette a relaxed smile.

The Chipotle bag was her only claim on her.

Great.

The brunette was pretty in a feminine way, with glossy hair, glossy lips, and eyelashes that reached the base of her eyebrows. Azzi felt like an insect with her bare face, sweaty pits, and Chipotle breath.

“You’re staring,” Nika murmured, her eyes unmoving from her phone as she scrolled, bored.

Azzi snapped her neck to her, feigning confusion. “What? Staring at what? No, I’m not.”

Nika hummed before meeting her gaze, pouting. “This is boring and there’s no guys for me to talk to.”

Azzi looked over her shoulder at Paige and Aubrey who were sharing a laugh with the brunette, who was throwing her head back dramatically. She only reached their mid-chest. Annoying.

“She’s trying realllyyyy hard,” Nika said, catching where Azzi’s eyes lingered.

“Agreed,” Azzi muttered, unable to hide her irritation.

Nika eyed her then, reaching to grip her shoulder. “Let’s let them know we’re leaving, and we can watch Love Island at my place.”

Azzi faced her again and gave her a small smile. “Sounds good.”

Heaving themselves up, they trapezed through the crowd of drunk girls, carefully avoiding the red solo cups and various vapes that littered the ground. Paige caught Azzi approaching immediately and gave her a lopsided grin.

“Az,” she greeted, wrapping an arm around her shoulder briefly. She turned back to the short brunette next to Aubrey. “This is Rachel, she’s a sophomore on dance.”

Rachel gave her a friendly, wide smile and wave. “Hey! I’ve seen you play. You’re amazing.”

Azzi gave her a tight-lipped smile, nodding. “Thanks, appreciate that,” she responded, completely horrified at her rude curtness but she physically couldn’t stop herself. How was she expected to pretend to be friendly with a girl she had been watching semi-flirt with her situationship best friend while she felt like she looked and smelled like the equivalent of day-old manure?

She turned to Paige, grabbing her to-go bag out of her hands. At Paige’s confusion, she said, “Me and Nik are gonna go. We’ll see you guys later.” Paige looked ready to protest, but her and Nika were already waving goodbye and heading towards their apartments.

Half-turned with Nika in tow, she called back to Rachel, “It was nice meeting you.”

She didn’t look behind her at Paige again, although she felt the burn of her stare on her back.

------------------

Showered, face washed, and with her leave-in treatment in her hair, Azzi was trying very hard to doom scroll in peace and not think about Paige.

(She was not succeeding).

Her fingers double tapped absently on Instagram, but her mind wandered to Paige’s smile as she talked to the girl at the darty tonight. Was she just being friendly? Did she think she was cute?

God, why did it even matter.

It wasn’t like they were dating.

And Azzi didn’t care that they weren’t. Nope.

She was being adequately territorial of watching the girl she had daydreams of going down on a daily basis smile at another girl, and that was that. Surely.

It wasn’t like Paige and this girl were friends, right?

Right?

Something in Azzi’s brain tingled. It had her fingers moving on their own accord and tapping to Paige’s Instagram profile. Somehow, some way, she ended up at her following list. It was entirely due to her finger’s volition, and not because she wanted to be there. Obviously.

She tapped in the search bar before she could stop.

R-A-C was all she needed, and there she was.

Brown hair. Brown eyes.

UConn Dance Team ‘25.

Azzi’s stomach dropped, and she felt herself scrunching her face in a distorted way.

She felt clinically insane. Like omission-to-the-psych-ward-via-Instagram-following insane. Rubber sole socks waited her.

Her fingers slid over Paige’s profile again, and without a second thought, she blocked her.

Blocked. Paige.

Azzi stared in horror at what she had just done, her fingers somehow shaking and frozen at the same time. Why did she do that? Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest.

She threw her phone out of her hands, and it landed facing up on her comforter next to her. Staring up at her ceiling with her hands clasped together, she forced her mind to calm down. She decided she would justify the block as a way to get herself to stop thinking about some silly, hypothetical acquaintanceship between Paige and this girl and that it didn’t even matter because they weren’t dating, and that Paige is allowed to talk to other people if she wants to, but also why would she want to–

Buzz. Buzz.

Azzi peered down slowly at her phone, to which she was greeted with her photo for Paige’s contact: Paige at the State Fair wearing a balloon hat in the shape of a wiener dog.

Buzz. Buzz.

Paige was calling her.

Is this a sick joke, she thought.

She picked up her phone like it was dynamite and pressed the green answer button like it would truly blow up. Holding the phone up to her ear, she said wearily, “Hello.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before she heard Paige ask, “Did you block me?”

Azzi stared blankly at the wall ahead of her, blanching. Briefly, she wondered if someone could die from embarrassment. Slowly, to avoid the sound of rustling from her comforter, she moved her phone so she could throw it on speaker. “No,” she replied monotonously as she made her way to her blocked accounts on Instagram.

She could hear Paige’s disbelieving tone through the screen. “Huh,” she said, “That’s weird. Was tryna send you something and your profile couldn’t be found.”

Azzi pursed her lips as she hit ‘unblock’ on Paige’s profile. “Oh, that’s really strange. Not sure.”

“Right.”

“Yup.”

Azzi heard a record scratch in her brain. She would have to refollow Paige.

Could she pay her funeral charge in advance?

Azzi stared at Paige’s profile for a split second before hitting ‘follow’. She laid her phone on her chest and closed her eyes, her face scrunching to a grimace as she waited for Paige’s next words.

“Az.”

“Yup.”

“I just got a follow request from you.”

“Yup.”

Silence.

“Why’s that?”

“Dunno.”

A pause.

“You mad at me?”

Another pause.

“No, why would I be?”

A third pause.

“Give me ten minutes.”

Click.

Azzi didn’t move an inch as she heard the call end. She laid there, staring at the wall ahead, wishing she could crawl into the nearest pothole. She had resolutely accepted her embarrassing fate in having to admit to Paige that she blocked her in the heat of the moment for no good reason. She quietly relished in her solidarity before she heard a muffled greeting by the front door through her wall.

The Jaws theme playing in her mind felt appropriate.

Paige shuffled through Azzi’s bedroom door with a sheepish look, gently shutting it behind her. Her hair was damp from a shower, and her glasses adorned the bridge of her nose.

Azzi caught herself pouting, so she quickly took her bottom lip by her teeth. Paige clicked the roof of her mouth, inching closer as she adjusted the waistband of her sweatpants. “Why you lookin’ at me like that, ma,” she mumbled softly.

Paige flopped down on top of Azzi, her nose connecting with the crook of her neck. Azzi took a deep inhale, not caring if it was probably weird of her to essential sniff her best friend. She smelled like her Dove soap and lavender shampoo, and Azzi’s arms reflexively found themselves wrapping around her crewneck-covered middle. “’M not lookin’ at you any type of way,” she muttered into Paige’s shoulder.

She felt Paige give her neck a soft kiss, her stomach fluttering. “Mm, and you ain’t mad at me?” Paige’s lips brushed Azzi’s skin with every word.

“Not mad.”

Paige lifted to give her a kiss on the cheek. Then another. “You promise?”

Azzi nodded into her neck. “Mhm.”

Silence momentarily fell between the two as they held each other. The mutual feeling of calm, and home, and all was well coursed through them in an unspoken understanding.

Paige propped herself on her elbows on both sides of Azzi’s head, staring down at her and caressing her cheek with her thumb. “Why did you block me, Az?”

Azzi pulled her bottom lip in her teeth again. “Didn’t.”

Paige took her lip out from under her teeth with a slow drag of her thumb. She leaned down and gave it a quick kiss that had Azzi’s eyes fluttering shut. “C’mon, ma.”

Azzi sighed through her nose, eyes remaining shut as she knew Paige was staring down at her. “It’s stupid,” she said in an irritated whisper.

She could hear Paige’s lopsided smile in her reply, “Don’t think anything about you is stupid.” Her thumb went back to dragging across Azzi’s cheekbone, comforting.

Azzi threw her forearm over her eyes, feeling her eyebrows scrunch together. “I got jealous over you talking to some other girl today.”

A beat ticked by before Azzi felt one of Paige’s hands slip under her t-shirt and caress her hip bone, and the other slowly lifting her forearm off her face. Azzi peeked one eye open, the other remaining scrunched closed. Paige was looking down at her fondly, almost amused.

No – definitely amused.

“Is that funny to you?” Azzi snapped.

Paige leaned down and kissed her cheek with a lopsided smile planted on her lips. “A little, yeah.”

Azzi scoffed, shoving Paige away with a hand at her chest. “Glad I could entertain you. Now, go home.”

Paige shook her head, still smiling as she sat back against Azzi’s headboard next to her. In a swift motion, Paige scooped her up until she was sat in her lap, knees on either side of her hips. Azzi was quickly learning she had no resolve when it came to being this close to Paige.

Paige let her hands slide up Azzi’s thighs slowly, resting lazily at her hips, fingers pressing lightly into the top of her ass. She dragged her forward until their chests touched and Azzi’s arms wrapped behind her head.

Kissing across the bicep that rested near her head, Paige mumbled softly against skin, “I only got eyes for you, Az.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her lower stomach doing backflips. Paige dragged Azzi’s hand that rested behind her head to her lips and kissed each finger. “I know who you probably saw me talkin’ to – that’s Aubrey’s girl. Was just tryna help her out.”

“Really?” Azzi breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded as Paige grabbed her other hand.

“Really,” Paige said, kissing across her knuckles. Azzi closed her eyes, letting her forehead fall to Paige’s.

“I feel stupid,” she whispered. Paige dragged her closer, sliding her hand up and down her back.

Azzi sighed, continuing, “I guess it’s ‘cause I just don’t know what we are.”

Paige paused at that, the pads of her fingertips putting pressure on Azzi’s spine. She heard Paige swallow and take a shallow breath.

“What do you want us to be?”

Azzi blinked her eyes open, finding Paige already staring at her. She searched her blue eyes, hoping to find the answer she was looking for. She traced the gold flecks of her irises, illuminated by the single nightside lamp to her side. Her mind momentarily blanked as she was overwhelmed with thoughts of, you’re so beautiful and I want to be yours.

“I don’t know,” Azzi whispered. But she did know. She was just scared to say it.

She felt Paige deflate slightly underneath her. A breath passed between them.

“We’ll figure it out,” the blonde told her quietly, reaching up to caress her cheek once more. “You scared?”

Azzi nodded, leaning forward to give her a quick kiss. Before she could pull away, Paige held her there for another.

“Me too,” she whispered against her lips.

They held each other in comfortable silence for a few moments, sharing small kisses here and there. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Paige was dragging her lips across Azzi’s jaw that she spoke again.

“You know how bad I want you all the time?”

Azzi closed her eyes, letting a coy smile play on her lips as her hands rested on Paige’s chest. The feeling of her lips dragging across her skin was borderline euphoric, and every cell on her body felt alive.

“No, but you can tell me.”

Paige let out a breath of a laugh. “I’m sure you’d like that.” She pressed soft kisses below Azzi’s ear, talking her earlobe in her mouth for a quick nibble before continuing down the slope of her neck. “If you could live in my mind, you’d know how ridiculous it is to think I was thinkin’ of anyone else like that.”

Azzi turned her head to press a kiss below Paige’s ear, still smiling as she felt her hands slide over her ass. “Your mind sounds like a scary place.”

Paige clicked, the pads of her fingers pressing further into Azzi’s exposed skin that had ridden up from her shorts. “Nah,” she muttered low, “You’re the star in there. You’d love it.”

Azzi let out a breath through her nose. Paige speaking to her like this…low, sounding infatuated with her, and with her hands on her lower body had heat pulling to the base of her core. If she didn’t get off Paige soon, she’d start to understand how she felt as she sat atop her thigh.

“Yeah?” Azzi wanted to sound confident, but her voice came out slightly croaky. She hated the overly smug smile she caught spreading across Paige’s face.

Wordlessly, Paige pushed Azzi’s hips harder onto her thigh. “You want me to show you what I think about?” she asked huskily, dragging her hips forward and backward. Azzi gasped, feeling her throat and cheeks start to grow red at the friction.

They locked eyes, Azzi nodding with fervor. Paige shook her head, dragging Azzi’s hips once more. “Words,” she told her, commanding.

Azzi swallowed, praying for moisture to enter back in her mouth. “Yes.”

Paige dragged Azzi’s hips once more, this time tortuously slow. “Yes, what?”

Azzi rolled her eyes in a mix of annoyance and pleasure but let out an involuntary soft moan regardless. “Yes, please show me.”

Paige hummed. “Good.”

Azzi shivered at the praise.

Paige’s had one hand slip under the back of Azzi’s shorts, fully cupping her right ass cheek. The other slide lazily under her t-shirt, gliding over her abs, thumb dragging over her belly ring, and landing on her sternum. She splayed her fingers, delicately ghosting over Azzi’s bare chest as she had gone braless before bed. Azzi released a quivering breath she didn’t realize she was holding as the pad of Paige’s thumb brushed over her nipple.

“Oh.”

Paige kissed her then, dragging her lower body up and down her thigh. Their tongues met quickly, but their pace was slow as Azzi grinded her hips down. She felt the wetness pooling in between her thighs, a gasp escaping her as Paige took her bottom lip in her mouth.

Paige was hiking up the bottom of Azzi’s shirt now, lifting it over her head in a swift motion. With no warning, she cupped both of her breasts, taking one in her mouth and taking in a nipple slowly as Azzi’s grinding continued.

“Oh, wow,” Azzi whispered, staring at the blonde in awe as she devoured her chest like she was her last supper. She felt Paige’s pleasured hum around her breast, and the combination with the friction in between her legs had her throwing her head back in a sigh. She leaned her hands back, watching as Paige moved onto the other breast and her hips quickened their pace. Her shorts had completely ridden up around her waist, but she didn’t have an ounce within her to care.

She noticed the growing wet spot on Paige’s sweatpants-covered thigh, and blanched. “Oh, god,” she muttered, feeling embarrassed. She stopped moving, and Paige looked up at her from her chest with swollen lips.

Slightly dazed, she asked, “What?”

Azzi grimaced, nodding at the fact that Paige’s right thigh was more or less a completely different color than her left. Paige looked down before catching her eyes again, seemingly unphased. She dragged Azzi across her thigh again by a palm to her ass (which she was unaware Paige could cover with her entire hand until this very experience), and elicited a soft, high-pitched groan from Azzi. The pulsing in her lower half returned with a force.

Paige kissed her way up Azzi’s throat, guiding her hips again. “You don’t even know what you do to me,” she breathed. Then, she paused.

Nose to nose and breathing heavily, Paige grabbed Azzi’s hand that was resting at her chest. She dragged it down slowly, giving Azzi enough time to pull it away if she wanted to. She turned Azzi’s hand, sliding it under her sweatpants until she felt the pool of wetness from her boxers. Azzi’s mouth fell open.

Paige watched her, looking half-dazed and half in pain. Wordlessly, Azzi slid her hand on her own accord under Paige’s boxers, coming into contact with her slick heat. Paige’s mouth was hanging open now, and they stared at one another like it would be detrimental to look away. Azzi’s center throbbed with the speed of her heartbeat.

Azzi slid two fingers down her center, letting them get fully immersed in her wetness. Paige widened her legs apart, breathing like she just played a forty-minute game with no breaks. When Azzi delicately rubbed her thumb over her clit, Paige nearly choked. It had Azzi smiling like she won the lottery.

“Fuck,” Paige grunted into her mouth, kissing her harshly. She palmed Azzi’s ass again, dragging her roughly against her thigh once more and cupping the back of her head as Azzi continued circling her fingers against her center.

“Fuck,” She repeated, deeper this time. “Right there, baby. So fucking good.”

Azzi’s eyes were damn near rolling into the back of her head at the feeling, the praise, all of it. She slipped a finger into Paige then, as she sped up her grinding, watching with a lazy smile as Paige threw her head back against the headboard. She was palming her ass like she was melding their skin together, and it made Azzi’s breath hitch.

Azzi was close. So close, her vision was going in and out. She gasped as her sensitive nipples brushed against Paige’s shirt, her mouth remaining open as Paige’s fingers brushed the underside of her ass to feel her wetness on her own fingers. She was rubbing at Paige’s clit haphazardly now, mildly aware of Paige bucking her hips to meet her hand and it adding to the friction her thigh was giving her.

“Mine,” Paige mumbled roughly against her ear, “If I could, I would get on my knees for you and fuck you with my mouth. All. Night. Long.”

Azzi threw her head back with a silent cry, Paige’s words and her last thrust sending her over the edge. “I’m –” she croaked. Paige kissed her then, swallowing the moan that would inevitably leave her lips.

Paige continued gripping her, dragging her on her thigh to ride out her orgasm. Azzi felt the white heat take over her entire body, her fingers trying their best to continue rubbing Paige’s clit as she saw stars. “Paige,” she whispered, over and over.

She felt Paige twitch under her, and then she was gasping in her mouth. Had she –

“Oh my god,” Paige’s head fell back against the headboard once more, only the whites of her eyes showing as she twitched her Azzi’s hand. Paige was gripping her hard enough to bruise, and all she could think was good.

Slipping her hand out from Paige’s boxers, she rested her forehead against her shoulder, slumping her body forward. They both breathed heavily, Paige giving a tender kiss to the side of Azzi’s head.

Sitting up Azzi let her hands drag up and down Paige’s chest as she took in a breath. “I think you might actually be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

Paige’s grin could probably be seen from space. “That’s fine with me.”

[cherrys-muses]

i am just gonna do this here and add a ‘see more’ button since it will more than likely get too long 😔

FIRST OF ALL i wanna start with @geminiwritten — the absolute, most sweetest person with a beautiful soul i’ve ever spoken to on this site. one of the accounts i ALSO check to see if she’s posted anything new to divulge in. i’m someone who isn’t very good at reading super long stories, i won’t lie, but i can EASILY get lost in her writing and feel like i am IN the story with no problem or confusion — everything is so thoroughly thought out. 100%, no fail. she deserves MORE HYPE !!!!!!!!!!! it’s crazy how she’s posting these writings for FREE. i have also read fics of people that i don’t necessarily read for on here off of her page, and was blown away honestly. you can tell bee is excited about writing by the way she shares things, or even updates about anything new she’s working on — it’s admirable. bee is genuinely such a warm and kind person. i’m so happy i stayed up til six in the morning lost in her works and im so happy that i can say we are mutuals (not in a weird way 💔) i could sit and write more but 💔

@rebelfell !!!!!! someone who i’ve admired always, even from my last account, i would always be excited to look at anything new she would post! she absolutely deserves all the hype she gets, plus more. i was honestly so flabbergasted when she followed me back.

@28bohemianmoons is another mutual who blows me away with their talent! i haven’t ever personally spoken with her, or anything, but i can tell she’s very genuine and kind! ❤️

@glassbxttless !!! ugh, she’s so wonderful with her writing as well — of course — even doing us a favor by writing characters who barely get the love they deserve!!!! everyone say ‘thank you cece’.

@urmum-lovesme — when i tell you she is another writer that’s on here who easily sucks you into their writing with absolutely no problem, it’s insane. i need to catch up on her story, i haven’t yet! but i need to get on that.

@eiightysixbaby !!! another kind soul who is (obviously) very wonderful at writing!!!

@punk-in-docs — when i tell you …. i screamed the VERY first time she had followed me on my other account when i was very deep and in my joseph quinn phase (still am, that man is never going away). she’s a very, very talented writer as well.

@keeryhours — sage will 100% EAT at anything she posts, NO DOUBT!!! and she’s also so very kind ❤️ definitely deserves more love!

@pretty-little-mind33 one of the first aaron taylor johnson accounts i had become friends with — and will never ever regret it. sky is such a lovely person and genuinely so kind and talented!

@fear-is-truth. there is NOT enough things i can say about jackie. i remember following her about a year ago and i remember when she hadn’t branched out yet with different fandoms and how she would apologize for her english (which she never had too at all!!!!), but looking at her account now and seeing how far she’s come, i’m so so proud of her and how much she’s evolved. she’s always been someone who is crazy talented yet just couldn’t see it herself. again, so so proud of jackie and will lover her forever and have such a special place for her in my heart. ❤️

@thecreelhouse …. syl …. oh my word . there’s so much you could say about them, but two words; talented and genuine. you can also tell how much she puts into her writings and i hate that she can’t tell how talented she is. it’s insane that i can consider her as a friend ❤️.

@starkeyvhs — kez!!! such a lovely soul who is so so talented 🩷 i remember her review on a writing i had posted (and now deleted) and how much i had smiled during the whole thing and how it will forever stick with me. i still need to catch up on some stuff she’s posted me in, but she is such a talented, sweet girl!!!

@strangerstilinski ❤️❤️❤️❤️ another person who i screamed about following me a while back ago. she’s someone who can make you feel so comfortable and as if you’ve have spoken before. i absolutely love her forever.

@marchsfreakshow — duckie, i absolutely love you. such a kind hearted, genuine friend and a talented writer. there’s things i definitely still have to catch up on, BUT im going to soon!!! ❤️ everyone deserves a duckie.

@littlexdeaths!!! i haven’t really spoken to her in a while, but i will never forget the times i have an how she was always so kind and genuine towards me or others.

@taintandviolent ….. lizzie, lizzie. lizzie. when i had first started out and started slowly writing/reading for evan peters, she was the first account id found and would ALWAYS and never fail to come back too, to see if there was ANYTHING new that she had posted (and i still do). she is so so so kind and it’s INSANE i can call her a friend. love her so much.

@scarstarved — wey doesn’t write, BUT her gif sets are so genuinely beautiful, not to mention how beautiful and kind she is as well! i couldn’t leave her out at all. ❤️

hi. go say something nice to your favourite writer(s). let them know they’re loved and seen and appreciated, and that their place in this world is not dependent on whether or not they’ve written anything recently. write that comment on that fic you’ve re-read for the fifth time just now. invade that ask box and give them some flowers in thanks. imagine a world in which they don’t write anymore, and be aware of the power that lies in kindness and genuine, random appreciation.

[edgygayguy]

I want to throw my thoughts out there and gush about how good this update is even though there is no quest

SPOILERS FOR ISLEWEAVER OFC

Lore wise spiders appeared in Warframe a few times (Chains of Harrow*, Lettie using them as a metaphor for depression); the 15 fragments seem to be Rusalka's autobiographical version of the tales of Duviri: she ran away from her emotions untill she had nowhere else to go, nothing to "fill her life up with", and the indifference jumped at her moment of weakness. Ofc the spider (Wally) saying he could "eat up" all of her worries and finally eating her is just a perfect fairytale way to put her fate into words. Instead of fixing the things that make her sad, envious, angry, he "kills" her, then she can't feel bad anymore. Here's a KIM chat with Lettie that explains it well:

Drifter: You've mentioned the spiders before, a metaphor for depression, I assume?

Lettie: Ay si. Something I've had all my life. Stupid little things in my head that tell me lies. Little things that whisper to me things that I believe when I am too stupid and fall for it.

[...]

Lettie: Then you truly understand what it's like, mi corazon. They are little pinches cabronas. But they are liars remember that always. This kind of sadness is small but it can be a poison if you let it get too strong**. Mi mama had it all her life so I have seen the toll it takes.

Lettie: But here is why I call them spiders. Because you can take a newspaper can roll it up into a tube. And CRUSH THEM. They are small and easily broken.

Lettie points out that this destructive force (depression in her case, indifference in the story at large) is not that strong, but it's steady and unrelenting. Kinda like how the murmur's assault on Albrecht's lab is described in the codex. **I also think that Rusalka slowly poisoning herself with effervon is just another nice symbolic layer to this.

When she brings her self-poisoning up, she also says that the indifference offered her new life. It made a pact the same way it did with the tenno, catching her at the lowest point in her life. We have no idea what the nature of her (and ours tbh) deal really is so this is heavy speculation. I don't think Rusalka is all gone (the secret message for her parents and some of her dialogue in Duviri make it seem like she's working with Wally, instead of being a hollowed out meatsuit). The man in the wall is using her, she's sort of given up on herself. She saw no other way out of her situation in Höllvania. She ran off to Duviri with Wally believing there is no possibility of things getting better. The fragments are a tragic realization of what got her up to that point of no return.

*The story of the corpses on the other hand plays well with what we hear from Rell. He mentions baby spiders eating their mother. Wally definitely remembers this since he was stuck hyper focusing on Rell for a long time. Velimir's and Minerva's corpse entries? stories? what am I writing... are obviously both about parenthood.

Minerva's directly mentions baby spiders eating their mother to "become strong" (I don't remember well but maybe Erra says something like that to Lotus... the scope of this post is beyond me rn). I have a feeling that what Wally did with the Tenno was an experiment****. Nature vs nurture sort of thing. How would two identical children turn out if they grew up in totally different environments (Drifter and the Operator ofc). Idk why the indifference decided the parents must die in both cases, at that point, but since the void exists outside of time it's hard to say anything concrete really.

In Velimir's fragment the queen emphasizes how the parents turned on their children first, not just all adults.

(Screenshots from @tennospaceboots)

Tagfer theorized that Wally just wants to know about humans, the real world. So I don't think it's out of the question he used the Zariman as a fucked up experiment on human nature. I think the last line from Velimir's fragment speaks volumes:

The same crack runs through everything, kiddo, she explained. You want to deny it, that's on you.

I think what we see in these fragments is Wally speaking through Rusalka, as opposed to the fragments which are purely Rusalka. In that quote Wally gives his "thesis" on the human condition. Human nature is contradictory, as an outsider he sees all happiness as fleeting, and a cause for further suffering. He cannot wrap his head around this contradiction***, of love causing pain (parents holding themselves to a too high standard [the final secret Kim chat with Minerva and Velimir show that ultimately, even thought their family was torn apart, they still found peace], lovers separated [Albrecht and Loid]), he cannot see how it could be worth it. It's probably by his nature, he's the indifference after all. Makes me wonder if he considers, after seeing the differences between Drifter and Operator, if he could have been completely different if the circumstances of his "coming into being" were changed. If his body wasn't torn and stolen from him, used by unknown others, abused by Entrati. I prefer to interpret Albrecht's first meeting with the indifference as unfortunate, I don't think he could have reacted differently, he was probably like 2% as afraid as were the Cavia when he met face to face with Wally for the first time. I have plenty sympathy for him, which is why I love the story of Warframe so much. You can have sympathy for everyone EXCEPT THE OROKIN, THE HUMAN ROOT OF ALL EVIL.

***As a sidenote maybe that's why he hates us mixing elements into more complicated forms, symbolism etc. idk it's 4 am now.

****I think the line "No one has a greater imagination than a scared child" is backing this up, good God why doesn't the wiki have the quotes yet.... : (

I think when we find out more about his deal with the Lotus this whole thing will be more fleshed out. Is Wally saying (in the Minerva fragment) that we will learn that lesson by "eating" her? (Lotus eaters hello) I sure hope not. The sentients have the most cool, unusual and amazing family relations so I'm excited how DE will explore that.

This could be a whole fucking video at this point, Socratetris and Stallord I'm coming for your gig (no I'm not).

Now for the most important part of the post:

The forefathers of your forefathers looked into the shining heart of an atom, scribbled their clever equations, and ripped it apart. Did they spare a thought for the age-old love between proton and neutron? Or did they only think of the bountiful energy they could harvest?

I've been emotional about Warframe a few times but this hit me harder than a ton of Quorvexeseses. It's so simple yet so beautifully poetic I'm not even going to try to give a shitty explanation. Wally I love you and I'm so sorry.

And here I'll throw some random extra thoughts that are unrefined (I know the shit above is also unrefined but you know):

I think people have a tendency to overcomplicate things with Warframe's story, which I don't blame them, the story is a mess lol. But some of the theories I've seen on Oraxia's origin are jumping through too many hoops (am I a hypocrite now). I think she was a guardian Warframe for Entrati the same way Protea was for Parvos Granum. He was the most important scientist in the empire, seems logical that Ballas would give him a guardian.

Also wtf does Thrax mean that he was the most of a father we ever got.

A strange idea came into the Orphan's mind. The Queen knew at once that the Glory was at work within them, just as it worked within her, but she held her peace. - this line still puzzles me, ofc we see the indifference exercising control over Rusalka and the glory is a name the indifference chose for, well indifference, but what idea came into the orphan's mind?

It's kinda interesting that Wally himself seems kind of contradictive. If he's indifferent why does he even bother interacting with humanity? Why is conceptual embodiment a thing if the void "craves stillness, emptiness". He is so interesting. Maybe he wants to be human. He wants the contrast. He wants what he doesn't, and maybe even, can't have.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

June 30th

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1. Hi! I’m looking for a fic I read a long time ago. I don’t remember a lot, but WWX was badly injured by Madam Yu, and he ends up in the Cloud Recesses. (I think maybe he was arranged to be married to LWJ, but I might be getting mixed up with another story.) The bit I remember is the Wens attack but can’t get through the wards that WWX updated. There is fighting outside the gates and WWX, who is still not fully recovered, sees that LWJ is about to be hurt and jumps down from the wall or sends a talisman that kills everyone around him maybe? I can’t remember exactly, just that he freaks out and sees red and a bunch of Wens are slaughtered (pretty sure Wen Xu among them). Anyway, I hope that’s enough for someone to recognize the story. I’d love to read it again. Thanks for all your hard work!

FOUND? 🧡 To have and to hold by Moominmammashandbag (M, 78k, WangXian, JFM & YZY, JYL/NMJ, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major character injury, CQL verse, Happy Ending) I agree, there's no arranged marriage but LWJ uses the cold pond incident from CQL to claim they are already married. This is the fic with the bad exploding talisman. // it isn't an arranged marriage it is that Lan Zhan married them in the cold spring

FOUND? so i cut the shackles and changed my name by MichelleFeather (T, 45k, WangXian, LQR & LWJ, LQR & CSSR, LQR & WWX, CSSR/WCZ, WWX & Lan Clan, WIP, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, WWX is a Lan, Good Uncle LQR, Supportive LQR, Protective LQR, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, JFM & YZY Bashing, Jiang Family Bashing, Abusive Jiang Family, Running Away, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Hurt WWX, Genius WWX, No Sunshot Campaign, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cultivation Sect Politics, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Canon Divergence, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, WRH isn't a power hungry tyrant - mostly, BSSR is WWX's Grandparent, JGS Being JGS, Warning: JGS)

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2. Hello! For fic finder please: it was an organised crime AU, modern day or 20th century, and LWJ was the enforcer for the Lans, hyper competent and cold

I think fairly long? The Jiangs were another crime family, Yanli was very highly respected but she never told her brothers what exactly she had done to earn her place @chalionkat

Thanks but I don't think so, it wasn't ABO

But thanks for trying!

NOT FOUND! haven't read this one but the description sounds like 🔒🧡 Rule Number One: Never get attached. by KizuKatana (E, 130k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O, Criminal underworld AU, Fluff and angst, Crime boss LWJ, Rouge criminal genius WWX, Explicit Sex)

FOUND? It's possible that #2 is Empire of Dirt by Fireawayy, but it is no longer up on AO3

FOUND?🔒Words are Gonna Bleed from Me by GravityWinsAgain (E, 183k, WIP, WangXian, SongXiao, 3Zun, XuanLi, QingMian, Triad AU, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, i'm not going to tag all of the sex but there will be warnings in the notes, and all of it is skippable as needed, Modern with Magic, Dark Magic, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Murder Husbands, POV WWX, Organized Crime, lovers to enemies to estranged lovers and back to lovers, Angst, BDSM Switch LWJ/BDSM Switch WWX, Ghosts, Body Horror, Temporary Character Death)

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3. A modern fic where lwj got drunk and have sex with wwx but after the drunken night he starts avoiding wwx because he thought he takes advantage of him and wwx gets pregnant and Jiang got to know about this and threw him out of house, he goes to thinking this is the last time he will try to talk to him and to tell lwj that he is pregnant with his child but lwj doesn't listen and send his brother to lie for him that he is not well but wwx caught the lie and thought he is avoiding him so he leave t

FOUND?🔒 Unexpected (Found) Family by tired_laoshi (M, 18k, WIP, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Modern AU, Misunderstandings, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Mpreg, Underage Pregnancy, Single Parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Found Family, Jiang Family Bashing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Behavior, Protective LXC, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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4. Hi wangxianficfinder !! I'm looking for a fic that had a very intricate system of folklore and Wei Ying was Finnish (?? I think) and he was taking care of Wen Yuan. Lan Wangji was sent by (i forgot who) to check on the dynamic of their house (??) and ends up staying for a long time and eventually battling some monster with Wei Ying, who uses his (LWJ) back as a guqin to win. Thankss <3 (I also remember something about catholicism being involved)

FOUND? Howling by MimiSpearmint (E, 40k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mortal Instruments Fusion, Horror, Eldritch, Domestic Fluff, Single Parent WWX,   Witchcraft, Getting Together, shifter!lwj, yllz!wwx, Intercrural Sex, Hand Jobs, Angst with a Happy Ending, Switch WangXian, a bit of a degradation kink, anti-STI sex talismans, Anal Sex, Oral Sex) sounds vaguely like Howling which takes place in Ireland, though, instead of Finland.

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5. Hi! For the fic finder, I read someone's comment on a tiktok just now that got me really interested!

It was a canon divergent I think, they only said that instead of WWX, JWY is the one thrown in the burial mounds without a core, but fails to cultivate resentfull energy and the ghost path, so WWX is still the main force in the war, just with tradicional cultivation.

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6. hi!!! thank you guys so much for all you do! i was wondering if you could help me find a fic! it was a canon compliant fic of the sun shot campaign but wy was a mermaid. i think lz found out during the cold pool cave? if wy doesn’t transform every so often his scales start to push out of his skin which happened during the wen lecture (i think wq knew about wy)

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7. hiii this is for fic finder. i found this ss in my gallery, all ik is thay wen wing says this about wwx, maaaybe to lwj

"In my defense, I was expecting someone much older and visibly demonic, not a friendly shop cat in human form metaphorically twining around my ankles." @bunnycoffeeumcat

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8. Hi! Thanks for your help the last time. Now I'm looking again for a FanFiction. CQL POST CANON.

After Wei Ying's departure to travel the world, he and Lan Zhan maintained a correspondence through letters. One day, however, Lan Zhan received no letter, prompting him to embark on a search for Wei Ying. He found Wei Ying gravely injured and near death within a cave, the victim of an attack by a monstrous creature resembling a half-dog. Remarkably, Wei Ying had stitched his own wounds using the yarn Lan Zhan had provided. @lu-wanji

FOUND? the soft animal of your body by howodd5ever (M, 21k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Episode 50, CQL canon, WWX has feelings about having a body, sort of a case fic, a little bit of epistolary goodness, graphic descriptions of wounds, Feelings About Death, wwx gets seriously injured, Art Embedded, wound-tending as an act of love, Bathing/Washing, Sharing a Bed, Finding home)

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9. Hi awesome mods, Looking for a fic inspired by a cobaltmoony art where there is a tentacle monster and Lan Wangji. Something about him being a sacrifice is all I remember

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10. Im looking for a fic on ao3 where cloud recesses arc Wei Wuxian somehow experienced lan Zhans incense burner dream which pushes him to realise his feelings much much quicker and get engaged to lan zhan, i think it had the supportive lan qiren tag on it but i dont remember much else

Thank you in advance! @eyalsfantasy

FOUND! 🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 947k, WangXian, WIP, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Getting Together, Supportive LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Supportive LXC, Canon Divergence, Inventor WWX, Possessive LWJ, Cultivation Sect Politics, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Fluff and Smut, Burning of the Cloud Recesses, Fall of Lotus Pier, Angst, Sunshot Campaign Not JFM Friendly)

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11. for ff: I lost a modern era fic where immortal lwj and some others rescue a reincarnated wwx from a room/building he's been locked into by some well-meaning people; possibly they run the orphanage. wwx was trying to contact lwj and everyone thought he was crazy since he's just some random teen and hgj is a big deal cultivator. I don't remember anything else just a big dramatic scene and I think someone flew through a window at one point. thanks 💙

FOUND? find me in the future by antebunny (G, 7k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Soulmates, Immortality, Reincarnation, Found Family, vague historical descriptions, this is simultaneously, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Post-Canon)

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12. i'd like to try looking again for a fic i couldn't find a few years ago 🙏🏽

it's a fic where lwj thinks that wwx’s prank with the porn book is specifically making fun of him for being a cutsleeve (wwx of course didn’t know)

i think lwj kicks wwx out from the library first and he deals with his hurt alone about being subject to homophobia, then the hurt carries for a while and during his confronting wwx about it…

(it's not 'don't close your eyes' by howodd5ever) thank you !!!

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13. I need help to find a lost fic. in it the juniors used an array to make a portal through time to grab wwx as he fell from the cliff at nightless city. they succeed but wind up having to swim out of a lake because something about the array turned the mountaintop they were on into a lake. I think the plan was sizhui's idea.

FOUND? Would You Come Home? by s6115 (Not rated, 46k, WangXian, Junior Quartet Centric, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

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14. Hello and thank you for your hard work!!! I read this one a long time ago and I had searched my bookmarks but to no avail I couldn't find it. It's a Canon Divergence one, I don't remember if WWX separates from the Jiang Sect or if he didn't go there at all but the only thing I remember it's that later on a inn in Yiling or Qishan WWX finds a letter that his parents left for him that says that he shouldn't go to the Jiang Sect. That's all I remember, you'll have my thank if you could find it!!

FOUND? so i cut the shackles and changed my name by MichelleFeather (T, 45k, WangXian, LQR & LWJ, LQR & CSSR, LQR & WWX, CSSR/WCZ, WWX & Lan Clan, WIP, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, WWX is a Lan, Good Uncle LQR, Supportive LQR, Protective LQR, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, JFM & YZY Bashing, Jiang Family Bashing, Abusive Jiang Family, Running Away, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Hurt WWX, Genius WWX, No Sunshot Campaign, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cultivation Sect Politics, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Canon Divergence, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, WRH isn't a power hungry tyrant - mostly, BSSR is WWX's Grandparent, JGS Being JGS, Warning: JGS)

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15. hi! not sure if my fic finder request ask got eaten by Tumblr but if so just wanted to send another one if that's ok! thank you!

I can't find this longer one shot (~20k words) I read a few years ago featuring wei ying, wen qing, and wen ning, and it was about wei ying running away and living alone feeling guilty with a leg injury after a car crash with him, jc, and yl inside a car. I remember he met wen qing at a supermarket where he worked and he and wen qing were arguing about him not getting physical therapy for his leg and the fic ended on a hopeful note where he was taking care of plants and thinking about contacting his siblings (and lan zhan)

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16. hi! I'm looking for two fics. I believe there is a time travel aspect for both. A) the first, wwx ends up making a deal with the emperor for land by his borders by repairing a barrier that WRH had found a hole in and was attacking them. He uses this land to create a village and sect that is protected. He even sections off a section in the mountain for him and lwj to have a home away from it all.

B) there is also another fic I’m trying to find where I think he finds ancient buildings in a different part of the burial mounds. I think it was like ancient pagodas with detailed markings. He raises the dead to keep creating more structures, tilling fields, etc. It had been cleansed by WWX and basically glowed. Wen Qing and Wen Ning are also there and scramble down with WWX to find the magistrate of Yiling and claim the Burial Mounds (now cleansed and immortal lands) for themselves before the sects notice. I remember there was an aspect where after the war, the Jin were slowly making it to where all trade would be forced to go through them with exorbitant costs to protect from “bandits.” WWX had protected the burial mounds territory and surrounding areas during the war, so he wasn't struggling financially. As such, he created a trade deal with QHN so they could use the routes and protections without the fees. @iznaluvr

16A)

FOUND? Chronicles of Sect Leader Wei Wuxian by Muggle_Diary (E, 114k,WangXian, XuanLi, JFM/YZY, CSSR/WCZ, LXC/LQY, NMJ/QS, WQ/OC, OFC/ OFC, JC/ OFC, Sect Leader WWX, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Different First Meeting, Canon Divergence, Minor Character Death, Anal Sex, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Sex Toys, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Rough Sex, Child Abuse, Child Death, War Hero WWX, Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Cultivation Sect Politics, Wen Remnants Live, Abusive YZY, Abusive Jiang Family, Bad Parents JFM and YZY, JC Bashing, JFM and YZY Bashing, Yunmeng Jiang Sect Bashing, JYL and JZX Live, Jiang Family Bashing) I think 16A might be Chronicles of Sect Leader Wei Wuxian, although it isn't a time travel story. // yes, i was thinking about that story too

FOUND? 🔒 Building it back, stone by stone and seal by seal by KizuKatana (M, 134k, WangXian, WWX & Wen Remnants, WWX & Wen Siblings, canon-divergent, post cultivation war, nobody won, WWX starts out alone as a fugitive lone cultivator, then finds a home, then finds a family, not a reincarnation fic, just alternate reality where not everyone who was in original canon existed during the war, starting the cultivation world over from scratch, Found Family, Comfort fic, carving out a new safe home, First Time) although it's not time travel. It's also an OUTSTANDING story, so even if it's not the right one I highly recommend it.

16B)

FOUND? 🔒 From a Single Plank Bridge to Celestial Ascension: Immortal Wei Sanren by Loli (Lohi_loli) (E, 85k, WangXian, MM/WQ, WN & WQ, Jiang Family & OCs, Lan Family & WWX, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Rebirth, Immortality, Jiang Family Bashing, LXC BashingFix-It of SortsBottom Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Top Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian

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17. hello! I want to find this one fic that's basically a butterfly effect(?). nhs fails in resurrecting wwx and mxy dies in vain. then sizhui and jingyi dies at the mo village arc bc wwx isn't there and lwj was too late to save them (i remember lwj also commits su*cide later after the events). jin ling also dies during the dafan mountain and jc apparently also died when wen ning rips out his golden core because wen ning's state of mind is still at that time where wwx was about to give his golden core to jc and wen ning didn't recognize jc during this part. after this, there were the other chapters where wwx basically didn't exist. jc has a second shidi in these chapters who died later on after the fall of lotus pier while he and jc were on the run and i think jc started victim-blaming his dead shidi. lwj and jzx were also beaten up at the xuanwu of slaughter cave here. then on the other chapters were from that second shidi's pov, he practically watches wwx's life story and stuff. i haven't finished the fic and i really wanted to read it again, if you could find it. thank you so much!

FOUND? If Wei Wuxian Did Not Exist by Anonymous (Not Rated, 191k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, what if, Character Death, KARMA and Retribution, Time Travel, Or actually Time Rewind?, Not for jc stans)

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18. A) where lwj is an immortal in modern au waiting for his husband to reincarnate, then he finds him, as a camboy B) Where lwj is ceo/rich/sugar daddy to amnesiac wwx and wwx thinks he's only a replacement for someone else, not knowing that someone is himself C) wwx had been sugar baby to many men, till he meets lwj, and he worries about if he finds out about other sugar daddies which he only go out with no sex or anything, for money to help his siblings and pay the bills

18A)

FOUND? 🧡 All Old Things are New Again by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (M, 51k, WangXian, Reincarnation, Modern AU, canon still happened, extreme post canon, Sugar Daddy, Kink Negotiation, gentle dom!LWJ, canonical levels of consent play, Modern Cultivators, cultivators can recognize important people from previous lives, vaguely, this started out as a cute sugar fantasy and got just incredibly horny very fast, blame LWJ)

18B)

FOUND? 🔒 Snow by kuro (M, 38k, WangXian, Modern, Snow, Sick Character, Caretaking, Fluff, Sugar Daddy, only they’re like… bad at it, Angst, Rabbits, Food, Sexy Times, occasionally)

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19. Hey! Thanks for all the wonderful work you do! I need some help looking for a fic which I read some time ago but now can't seem to find again. As far as I remember, the premise was that, after SSC, some Lan disciples overhear JC threatening WWX in some manner and that somehow turns into the rumor of JC abusing WWX and everyone getting quite protective of WWX by the end, most notably LWJ but I think NHS also got quite involved. I'd really appreciate the help finding this fic again! Thx!

FOUND? 🔒 chapter 15 from short prompts by Vrishchika

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20. Hi there! I'm looking for a long(ish?) fic I read on AO3 probably over a year ago. It's a modern AU, and LWJ and WWX meet (or meet again?) and start hooking up, with WWX giving off 'wild, experienced, and carefree vibes' (possibly he was a virgin going into this, or at least very inexperienced and lying about it). After a few hot hookups, he gets an emergency call of some sort and has to come clean that he's actually an overworked single dad who doesn't have time for dating and can't keep up with the wild sex lifestyle no matter how much he wants to. LWJ ends up meeting A-Yuan and of course instantly is like "This is my future son, when can we get married?'... and then takes the rest of the fic to actually say that out loud. Can anyone help? I've been searching through my bookmarked fics for a few days and can't find it using the obvious tags and summary skimming. I hope it wasn't deleted! @alychelms

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[ainaslastnerve]

HI! First of all, I love your writing and I can't wait for the updates for other fics.

My req is the reader bathing Telemachus (like Polycaste did in the Odyssey) Its up to you if you want to make it smut or just fluff, I don't mind either way!!

Thank you very much for your hard work and the beautiful fics you write!

Where the Steam Rises Softly

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: In the dim hush of torchlight and steam, Telemachus sheds the weight of duty, scars, and silence. As you kneel beside the basin and tend to him with care more intimate than words, something shifts—something tender, rare, and unspoken. He lets you in. In this quiet moment steeped in lavender and vulnerability, the prince is not a warrior nor a son of Odysseus, but simply a man learning to be soft in your hands. And for once, he stays.

Pairing: Servant!Reader x Telemachus

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

The steam curled lazily from the surface of the bronze basin, rising in soft spirals that clung to the air like silk. It carried with it the mingled scents of crushed herbs—rosemary, marjoram, and a hint of bay leaf—alongside the mellow richness of warm olive oil and lavender steeped in heat. The small chamber was dim, lit only by the flicker of two wall-mounted torches, their flames casting gold shadows that danced across stone walls worn smooth by time.

You knelt beside the tub on a folded wool rug, your knees cushioned against the cold floor. Your sleeves were pushed up to your elbows, linen damp at the hem, and your fingers gripped a square of soft cloth soaked in the fragrant bathwater. It was warm—almost hot—and your skin prickled with the closeness of it. The air was heavy with moisture, beading at your temples and clinging to your lashes.

Telemachus sat immersed in the water up to his lower ribs, his knees drawn slightly toward his chest. His body was bare, save for a modest swirl of bubbles and a thin veil of steam that curled around his torso. Stray droplets trickled down from his collarbones to the center of his chest, carving thin, glistening trails. His posture was straight, deliberately so—shoulders pulled back, jaw tight, as if trying to remember how royalty is supposed to sit. But the flick of his eyes, the nervous curl of his fingers against the basin’s rim, betrayed him.

You smiled, small and reassuring, brushing back a damp strand of hair from your brow. “You can relax, you know,” you murmured, voice soft in the hush of steam and flickering flame. “You’re not being judged here.”

He gave a breath of a laugh, dry and sheepish. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one being bathed like a child preparing for a feast.”

“Not a child,” you said gently, dipping the cloth back into the basin. The water sighed as it accepted the linen. “Like a prince. And even princes need someone to look after them.”

Telemachus didn’t answer right away. He just looked at you—his eyes a deep, solemn brown, sharper than flint but dulled now by the heat. Droplets clung to his dark lashes. There was a stillness to him in that moment, as if your words had caught on something inside him and refused to let go.

You leaned forward carefully, the warm cloth trailing rivulets as you brought it to the back of his neck. You wiped with slow, careful strokes, circling the base of his skull, the spot where tension lived like a stubborn knot. He inhaled sharply at the first touch, the kind of breath a soldier might take when being stitched. And then he exhaled, the sound barely audible, but telling.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone,” you murmured, wringing the cloth out again with gentle fingers. “You’re allowed to be tired. To let someone else carry the weight.”

His mouth opened slightly, like he might speak—but no words came. Just a look. A flicker of emotion that passed through his face like wind brushing through tall grass. Then, quietly, the stiffness in his shoulders eased. His posture, once held like a shield, gave way. The tension fell from him slowly, like bark peeling from a weather-worn tree.

From the small table beside you, you reached for a delicate ceramic jar. It was cool to the touch. When you opened it, the scent of lavender and honeyed chamomile wafted upward. You dipped your fingers in, rubbing the oil between your palms until it warmed, then reached up to press it into his shoulders with featherlight pressure.

His skin was hot from the bathwater, muscles firm beneath your fingers, but there was a tremble to it too—a slight, involuntary shiver. Not from cold, but from being touched without demand. You worked in small, circular motions, thumbs sweeping gently across the curve of his shoulder blades. That’s when you noticed them: pale lines and faded ridges across his back, some short and shallow, others longer, winding like the roots of old trees.

You paused, brushing your fingertips over one particularly long scar just beneath his right shoulder. Your voice was a hush.

“This one?”

He tilted his head slightly, not enough to meet your gaze, but enough to remember. “Boar hunt. I was fourteen.” His voice was quiet, almost contemplative. “It gored me in the thigh and caught my back as I fell. I cried.”

You said nothing, only continued tracing gentle shapes around the scar.

He huffed a laugh, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Mother said it was good. That if I still had tears, I still had something left to lose.”

You didn’t answer—not with words. Your hands did the speaking, moving slower now, more tenderly. You dipped the cloth once more, rinsing away the oil, trailing clean water down the path of old wounds. His skin, glistening in the firelight, looked almost sculpted—like marble touched by time. His neck, when he tipped his head back, revealed the vulnerable curve of his throat, pulsing softly with breath.

“I can take over,” he said suddenly, voice gravelly, barely audible above the sound of dripping water.

But your hand didn’t leave his back. “You could,” you whispered. “But would you really want to?”

He turned to look at you, slowly. The pride was gone from his eyes now, the careful posture dissolved. No mask of duty, no quiet rehearsals of strength. Just a boy who had grown too fast, too far. Just a man who wanted—needed—to be still.

“I trust you,” he said. “More than most.”

The words hung there, suspended in the steam between you—simple, unadorned, yet so achingly sincere that they rooted you in place. Your hands, still slick with oil and warmth, paused mid-motion on his back, fingers curling slightly as though to hold the moment still. But inside, your heart surged—fluttering not with triumph, but with something far more delicate: the quiet ache of being seen, the weight of being chosen by someone who rarely allowed himself softness.

You swallowed, throat tight, and slowly leaned in.

The distance between you shrank to nothing, and you pressed your forehead gently to his. His skin was damp, almost fever-warm, and the contact made both of you still. Around you, the world seemed to hush. The flamelight flickered against stone, casting long shadows on the walls, while steam coiled in lazy spirals around your bodies, wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of silence and scent.

The mingled warmth of herbs, lavender oil, and skin hung heavily in the air—intimate and grounding. His breath ghosted against your lips, uneven and shallow, and you could feel the tension still lingering at the base of his throat. He was holding something back, some final wall of control that cracked slowly beneath the gentleness of your voice.

“Then let me take care of you,” you murmured, so quietly that your lips barely moved. The words fell between you like a prayer. “Just this once.”

His eyes fluttered shut, lashes damp and trembling. You felt the soft, deliberate release of breath against your cheek—a soundless yes.

And this time, he didn’t pull away.

He stayed there, unmoving but undone, his brow resting against yours like a silent surrender. Not a prince, not a warrior, not the son of a myth—but a boy allowing himself, for once, to be held without armor.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

THANK U SO SO SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THE PRAISE, NEW FOLLOWERS, AND 1K LIKES !!! I LOVE U ALL SOOO MUCHH MWAMWAA (especially my wifey oddy 👀)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

[bi-scared]

First time ~ Bay Donnie Headcanons

Here are my headcanons for Bay Donnie's first time with reader.

NSFW ~ F!Reader

(Note: I'm french. My english is limited and I use Deepl.)

From the moment you and Donnie became a couple, he pulled out and updated his computer file containing all the information he'd collected on “how to pleasure a woman”.

Then he runs tests. To find out exactly what the risks are if you have sex with each other. The risk of pregnancy, disease and physical compatibility.

Donnie tries to do this in a discreet way, without telling you. Because not only does it embarrass him, but he feels that all these technical details could ruin the magic of the moment. He wants it to be perfect, of course. For you and for him.

So, when he feels the moment is near, he's ready. At least, he thinks he is. But the reality is quite different, because this kind of thing can't be programmed like computer software.

So, when the time comes, he has doubts. He's afraid. Afraid of hurting you, afraid of not being able to give you pleasure. Afraid of doing it wrong, of not understanding what's going on in your head, of neglecting yourself, of not going all the way, of...

If you already have experience in the field, now's the time to take the reins. Because it's his first time and he's bound to need some guidance. Talk to him, show him, but also let him explore, test his theoretical knowledge. Donnie will listen to you and apply what you tell him to the letter at first.

Then he'll test things out. Things he's read or seen, but also things that come to him by instinct. With shyness and clumsiness, but also perseverance. And while he's putting his knowledge into practice, he's studying everything. Your gaze, your facial expressions, the movement of your body under his fingers, the sounds that come out of your mouth... He observes everything, analyzes everything and deciphers everything. He wants to know what you like and what you don't like. Because Donnie has two major objectives: not to hurt you, but above all to make you feel good.

He's got lots of questions, and he'll be asking them later. His brain is currently too busy remembering what he's learned and not losing control of himself. Because having you under his fingertips, freely running through you, is beyond anything he could have imagined, and he's on the verge of a short circuit.

No, the first time, his questions will be limited to “Are you okay?”, “Can I go on?”, “Do you want me to stop?”. And as he loses control, Donnie asks your permission to enter you, panting and stammering. And he won't do anything without your permission.

But before he does, he makes sure you're ready for him, because he's not human in size or shape. Donnie takes his time, first making sure you can handle a finger. Then eventually a second. He makes sure you cum at least once. And, just in case that didn't work, he's provided lubricant and even a few accessories to satisfy you without penetration, so you can both have fun in a different way. It'll never be a total failure.

When he decides you're ready (and he'll decide when, even if you're begging) and you've given him the go-ahead, he'll make his move. He has a plan to make things go smoothly and he fights to the bitter end against his urge to just work his way into you for his own pleasure. He'll only get in as part of the game with insane slowness, analyzing your reactions and resistance. Start gentle back-and-forth strokes with just the tip until no sign of discomfort appears on your facial features. Then he'll move in a little more and start again.

Throughout this process, Donnie lets out the most animalistic moans and grunts you've ever heard. He tries to contain them, but he's already having trouble containing his movements inside you. Sometimes he pauses, shaking intensely, and you come to understand that he's just trying not to cum too soon.

When he's deep enough inside you and feels he can't go any further, he makes sure to cover the part of him that won't enter you with his hand. Just in case he loses a little too much control and wants to go deeper. No, his hand must not move.

Donnie then starts moving back and forth more frankly and, to his (and your) frustration, he doesn't last much longer. As a result, he has an angry orgasm, swearing at himself. So much work and patience for a few seconds.... He feels guilty.

Might as well laugh it off and give him a second chance. He'll last longer this time. And why not take the lead for round two ;)

If this is also your first time, things aren't much different at first. Except that Donnie takes a little more on himself, fighting his embarrassment and looking to do you good without expecting you to guide him. He'll be doubly attentive and caring, though.

For this first time, he's decided he's far too... imposing, and he doesn't want to inflict that on you. If it's all right with you, he'd like to settle for a little...

For your first time, he's decided he's far too... impressive, and he doesn't want to put you through that. If you agree, he'd like to stick to his fingers for the first few times. He doesn't like the idea of taking your virginity that way, but he'd rather do that than risk hurting you.

After a few sessions of fingers fucking, he ends up wanting more, but he doesn't ask. He waits for you to tell him when you're ready. And when you are, he makes sure he does it right and as painlessly as possible. It may take you a few tries before he can finally enter you, but it's worth the wait ;)

[kanaria-a]

❝If you throw it away, it's just a circuit "Well, that's true," says love's joker❞

In which, you’ve fallen to a sleep spell, and only a kiss can wake you…(part three)

ft. Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper

$KALIM AL-ASIM —

The ancient tome before you glowed with an ethereal light, its pages fluttering despite the absence of any breeze in the dimly lit library of Night Raven College. You had discovered it quite by accident while researching for Professor Trein's history assignment, tucked away behind a collection of dusty volumes on magical theory. The leather binding felt warm beneath your fingertips, and intricate golden runes danced across its surface like living things. You should have known better than to touch something so obviously magical without proper precautions. Yet curiosity, that fatal flaw of humanity, compelled you forward. As your fingers traced the mysterious symbols, they began to pulse with increasing intensity, and before you could withdraw your hand, a blinding flash of golden light engulfed your vision. The last thing you remembered was the sensation of falling, as if the very ground beneath your feet had dissolved into stardust. When consciousness finally began to return, it came not all at once, but in gentle waves. You became aware first of the sweet fragrance of jasmine and orange blossoms that seemed to permeate the very air around you. Then came the sensation of silk beneath your form—impossibly soft and cool against your skin.

Your limbs felt impossibly heavy, as though they were made of lead rather than flesh and bone. Try as you might, your eyes refused to open. Your body would not respond to even the most fervent commands of your will. You existed in a strange twilight state, aware of your surroundings yet unable to interact with them in any meaningful way. It was as if you had become a prisoner within your own physical form. Through the haze of your enchanted slumber, you could hear voices—familiar ones that spoke of your condition with growing concern and desperation. Ace's voice, sharp with worry, declared that this was "definitely not normal, even for this crazy school." Deuce's more measured tones suggested seeking help from the professors, while Grim's increasingly frantic meowing punctuated their discussions like a distressed musical accompaniment. But it was another voice that cut through the fog of your consciousness like a ray of sunshine piercing storm clouds.

Kalim’s normally cheerful demeanor had taken on a quality of profound sadness that made your heart ache, even in your current state. "I should have been there," he whispered, and you could hear the guilt weighing heavy in his words. "If I hadn't been so busy with Scarabia duties, maybe I could have stopped this from happening. Maybe I could have protected them." How desperately you wanted to tell him that this was not his fault, that no one could have predicted such an occurrence. But your lips remained sealed by forces beyond your control, your voice trapped somewhere deep within your enchanted form. Days passed—or perhaps weeks; time held little meaning in your current state. Visitors came and went like shadows at the edge of your perception. Professor Crewel examined you with clinical precision, muttering about "ancient curses" and "powerful protective magic." Vil Schoenheit's voice carried notes of genuine concern as he discussed possible remedies with others. Even Leona Kingscholar, typically so dismissive of others' troubles, seemed troubled by your condition.

But it was Kalim who remained the most constant presence at your side. His warm hand would clasp yours during his visits, and he would speak to you as if you could respond, telling you about his day, sharing stories from Scarabia, and updating you on the various schemes your fellow first-years had concocted to wake you. "Jamil thinks I'm being foolish," he confided one evening, his thumb tracing gentle circles across your knuckles. "He says that talking to someone who can't respond is a waste of time. But I know you're still in there somewhere. I can feel it." The conviction in his voice made something flutter within your chest—a warmth that the curse couldn't quite suppress. As more time passed, Kalim's visits became longer and more frequent.

He would bring books and read aloud to you, his voice painting vivid pictures of far-off lands and grand adventures. Sometimes he would simply sit in comfortable silence, his presence alone providing a comfort that transcended the need for words. It was during one such quiet moment that you felt a change in the atmosphere around you. Kalim's breathing had grown irregular, and when he spoke, his voice carried a tremor of emotion that you had never heard before. "I've been thinking a lot lately," he began, his words careful and measured in a way that was unlike his usual exuberant manner. "About friendship, and about feelings that might be something more than friendship. I always thought I understood love—the love for family, for friends, for my homeland. But this... what I feel for you... it's different." Your heart, though trapped within your enchanted form, seemed to skip a beat. "I love your laugh," he continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "I love how you always listen to my stories, even the ones I've told a hundred times before. I love your kindness, your courage, the way you face each new challenge at this school with such determination. I love how you make even the most ordinary moments feel special just by being there."

A pause, and then, so softly you almost missed it: "I love you." The words hung in the air like a prayer, and suddenly you understood. The ancient magic that held you was not merely a curse—it was a test, a guardian spell designed to protect something precious until the right person, the right heart, could claim it. You felt rather than saw Kalim lean closer, his warm breath ghosting across your cheek. "If there's even the smallest chance that this might work," he whispered, "then I have to try. Because a world without your smile isn't a world I want to live in." His lips met yours in a kiss that was gentle and sweet, filled with all the love and hope that his heart could hold. The moment your lips touched, you felt the ancient magic shatter like spun glass, releasing you from its ethereal bonds.

Your eyes fluttered open to meet Kalim's ruby gaze, wide with amazement and joy. The golden runes that had bound you dissolved into sparkles of light that danced around you both before fading into nothingness. "You're awake," he breathed, his face breaking into that brilliant smile that had always made your heart race. "Thanks to you," you replied, your voice slightly hoarse from disuse but filled with all the affection you had been unable to express during your enchanted slumber. As Kalim helped you sit up, his arms wrapping around you in an embrace that felt like coming home, you realized that some fairy tales were worth the wait—especially when they ended with the person you loved most in all the world.

$JAMIL VIPER —

It was only meant to be a minor tonic—a harmless draught brewed for stamina and clarity, something offered by a well-meaning alchemy student who clearly did not understand the finer balance of magical components. And though you hesitated—sensing, perhaps, that something was amiss—Jamil had been nearby. You trusted that if anything were truly wrong, he would speak up, would intercept, would spare you from harm as he always did when others proved careless or foolish. But this time, he had been distracted, caught between responsibilities, his attention split for just a moment too long. In that single mistake, everything changed.

You collapsed mid-sentence, your words tapering into silence as your limbs lost strength and your breath slowed. Panic rippled across the room like fire in dry grass. Jamil was already moving, catching you before you struck the ground, lowering you gently with a speed born not of fear but precision. Deep within his chest, something ancient and terrible had begun to curl—an emotion he could neither name nor shake.

When they carried you to a quiet room and laid you upon a padded cot—when the healer confirmed what none of them could quite believe: that you had entered a magical slumber, irreversible by potion, scroll, or spell—Jamil did not speak, not right away. Silence was a more efficient vessel for fury than words. He stood beside your still form with arms crossed and expression unreadable, as if composing himself piece by piece before anyone else could glimpse the storm behind his eyes. You were not supposed to fall victim to this kind of mistake, not you, and certainly not on his watch.

Even as the others whispered legends and speculations, murmuring of symbolic cures and fairytale solutions, he remained still, jaw tight, gaze locked upon your unmoving face as though he could will your eyes to open by sheer will alone. He hated how the others watched him, wondering whether the ever-competent Jamil Viper might break at last. But he would not—he could not—because breaking served no purpose.

Besides, there was still something he had not tried, something foolish and absurd and beneath him. But magic this convoluted sometimes responded not to logic, but to sentiment. If you were waiting for an act of meaning to sever the thread between sleep and waking, then he would do it not because of stories or superstition, but because the very idea of a world where you stayed like this—silent, breath shallow, eyes closed to him—was not one he could accept.

And so, with only the candlelight to witness him, and with no dramatics nor declarations, Jamil stepped closer, kneeling beside your cot with deliberate grace. One hand reached out to gently cradle the side of your face with a care he did not show easily. Though his voice was nearly soundless, you would have known it anywhere as he murmured, “I shouldn’t have let this happen… I’m sorry.”

Then, after a beat, he leaned forward and kissed you—not with desperation, but with intent, like a promise sealed in silence. When he pulled away, he watched, waited, heart pounding in a rhythm that belied his calm, until your fingers twitched faintly and your lips parted with the softest of breaths. You blinked, slow and confused, until your gaze found his. Though your voice cracked as you whispered his name, the weight of it in your tone was enough to shatter every last barrier he had built within himself. He only exhaled, grounding himself in the moment, saying nothing of the worry that had lodged itself in his throat for hours, nothing of the way his hands had trembled behind his back, nothing of the nights he'd spent rehearsing every worst outcome he could imagine. It was over now. You were awake. And that, he decided, was all that needed to be said—for now.

Can yall tell i fw Kalim…Cuz i REALLY fw Kalim

[yellowwwcrayon]

The unexpected disappointment and frustration from season 3 has hit me just like everyone else 😞

I want to be over it asap, but I adored squid game so much, and the ending left a horrible taste in my mouth, and I feel like I need someone to hold me while I cry over a fucking tv show ughhh 😫😫

Your new work, Mr right, and update of wallflower starring inhun was very much helpful in the aftermath, I dearly need it during these dire times lol, 🫠

in fact I think I’ll just read material girl again, I remember reading that during the peak of my inhun hyper fixation and it gives me a warm feeling while I sit in denial 👌

I actually have like 150+ tabs open of inhun fics that I haven’t been able to catch up on because I don’t have time, but now a slow feeling of coldness is creeping up on me and it makes me so fucking sad, sorry to rant on you like this lol someone tell me how we’re going to get over thisss 🫠🫠

I feel you so hard. This weekend has been ruined. Ugh. Have a hug, have the world's biggest warmest hug. AU Inho won't hurt you no more. AU Gihun gets to be pampered and dicked down in that love hotel he wanted to try with Inho from Chapter 1. All is well. We live another day in denial of Season 3 🫶🏻

[trombonechurchill]

A Pinned Post!

Hello~ I'm Kris/Aithi on AO3, any pronouns. Pro-shipper, multi-fandom, multi-shipper mess. All fandom posts will be tagged with the appropriate fandom. nsfw and flashing gif content will also be tagged. 911 spoilers will be tagged up to a week after the episode airs.

I primarily write for 9-1-1 right now and you can find my stuff below:

[writing tag] [completed fics]

[AO3]

Current WIPs:

An Educated Thirst 🍷 5+1 times bartender!Buck tried to guess his new, totally human, patron Tommy's favourite drink... (BuckTommy) tag

Echo Mountain ⛰️ The Buck Whump fic (BuckTommy) tag

Antique Shop AU 🔮 Tommy buys a cursed item containing the ghost of Billy Boils from Buck's antique shop (BuckTommy....Boils?) tag

Star Wars AU 🪐 What it says on the tin (BuckTommy/possible BuddieTommy) tag

Flotsam Jetsam 🦭 Selkie!Tommy AU with lighthouse keeper!Buck (BuckTommy) tag

Wild West AU 🐴 1800's BuckTommyBoils cowboy AU yeehaw tag

I'm pretty much always accepting tags for tag games, make me writes, or prompts so feel free to say hi even if we're not mutuals👋

header by: reginamills

[clumsypuppy]

someone left me a comment asking abt my pokeask days so....... i drew my old muses ^_^

[notbecauseofvictories]

man, the world seems terrible and full of bad things, and then you read about the Chicagoan who started developing ramen recipes with meticulous (even obscene) attention to detail, or an Irish hurler who decried state-sponsored spending for sports complexes live on air, or well-considered analyses of films or animated television shows and whether they are narratively/dramatically coherent, and it's....well, it's okay to be here. I like it here.

[r0semultiverse]

Hey, Jake & Jack fans, is this anything?

Both men imprisoned (literal & metaphorical).

Both offered an out from their current predicament by an outside force (arguably in the case of Brain Ghost Dirk).

Both have loose ties to Lord English visually.

Yellow initial glow & Gamzee involvement too.

Sometimes a guy just needs to explode (same pose too).

Both dual wielding weapons.

That same said weapon type (for Jack Noir) having killed Jane Crocker.

It's really looking like Jake is going to do her in.

I would also like to point out that we've had interactions involving these three (Jane, Jake, and Brain Ghost Dirk) before that consisted of similar topics & themes.

Brain Ghost Dirk implying that he's just there as moral support, a manifestation of Jake's powers, and as a coping mechanism. Jane also talking about ruling an empire with him while talking down to him, similar to how she saw and/or still sees him in Beyond Canon's Candy timeline. Jake also being uncertain about doing anything to harm her despite all the bad things she's doing.

Brain Ghost Dirk going away tells us that Jake's more hopeful than he's ever been. This is the moment where he is the most sure of his decisions than he's ever been in his life, whatever those decisions may be in regards to Jane and how to handle this situation.

He is probably going to shoot Jane down, quite literally. I would also argue that after all this time, the lad isn't beating the Lord English allegations. We might as well have a parallel of him killing Jane much like how Jack Noir killed her right before he got possessed by Lil Cal & given some of Lord English's immense power.

Alternatively maybe we'll get to see what the power of hope or hope bullets can do to someone whose done so much wrong & come so far off the deep end in terms of moral wrongdoings. Maybe with every shot that hits her, she'll begin to be swayed to the side of good & start to self-reflect.

I'm still not fully convinced that Gamzee actually cured Tavros' peanut allergy, I mean just look at the panel.

This could absolutely be interpreted as Jake injecting his hope power into the epipen and by proxy injecting both his power & the epipen into his son! If younger Jake is strong enough to defeat Grimbark Jade, then adult Jake might just be strong enough to defeat a peanut allergy is all I'm saying! In fact, now that I'm rambling about it, this seems like the more likely outcome is Jake's hope power swaying or (in the very least) confusing Jane mid-fight. Hope bullets, they would look cool & would be pretty strong!

The power of believing in others & wanting things to change can be a strong tool indeed, Mister English.

If there's one person who still believes in changing Jane's mind (or bringing her back to proper canonicity depending on how you interpret the recent lore), it would be Jake English, the believer.

Okay, maybe this is something! Tally ho!

[freaky-flawless]

Finally finished with these two! Which is ironic since they were the first ones I drew lol. You can find Tori's old ref here!

Some more info on them under the cut:

As much as he doesn't want to acknowledge it, its pretty much an open secret to everyone that knows of him that Kris is the estranged son of Krampus. From a young age he was opposed to following in his fathers footsteps, and for years tried his best to fight against it. Once he hit high school, he struck up a deal with his dad that he would pick up the mantle once he graduated. Kris agreed and promptly dropped out just shy of his graduation date. And he's been living on his own ever since.

He works at a gas station near Monster High, and is well liked by the students for his surprisingly good advice and tendency to turn a blind eye towards obviously fake IDs. His apartment is near New Salem University where he spends a lot of his free time hanging out with his buddies from school, one of them being Luci Ferguson, the heir of hell. The two go way back, they're dad's being close friends. As it stands Kris is cruising through life without much of a care in the world, or so it seems. Deep down he regrets his decision to cut his education short, and feels his life is pretty directionless.

Tori is a Zodiac Monster, a rich and exclusive community of monsters who tend to only congregate amongst themselves. While being a Zodiac monster may have meant something long long ago, nowadays it's little more than a title, one that denotes a lot of social power. That pressure, as well as all the drama and critiques that come with living in such a tight-knit social circle, leads to Tori wanting an out, or at least a break from the Zodiac Monster lifestyle. She finds her chance once it's time for her to go to college.

While Tori is very sweet and tries her best to be considerate of others, she's also somewhat naive and socially awkward. She has a tendency to say very out of touch things, not immediately recognizing that not everyone grew up as wealthy and privileged as she did. Regardless she's very open-minded and enjoys hearing all sorts of different perspectives. She;s incredibly grateful when Fangel, Demonique, and Luci take her under their wings, especially since she's starting completely new in terms of making friends. It doesn't take long for her to meet Kris and become fascinated (and even somewhat enamored) by his sloppiness and carefree lifestyle.