#guess who's late to the succession party

[cygnustarth]

“Maybe the poison drips through,” Kendall said to Shiv. Logan's dead but maybe the poison drips through. And I watch in abject horror, with a pit in my stomach and the visceral urge to vomit as the three siblings all spiraled down to become the worst part of Logan. Maybe the poison drips through. Ken flew all over the place with his crazy ideas only to have all of them crashing and burning in front of his eyes because he wanted people to look at him and say that he's outdone Logan, because Logan would prove that he's the best and this is what Logan would've done. Maybe the poison drips through. Shiv secretly teamed up with Matsson to screw her brothers over from the back door because Logan was ruthless and this is what Logan would've done. Maybe the poison drips through. Roman supported a right-wing fascist to be the president because he only cared about the ratings and the company and he would sell democracy, hell, even the whole country for it, that's what Logan would've done. Maybe the poison drips through.

Logan's dead but maybe the poison drips through. Maybe the poison already dripped through. Logan's dead and Kendall’s the CEO but Kendall is an empty husk of a man raised only for power and could not, would not live without it. Maybe the poison already dripped through. Logan's dead and nobody is going to dangle his approval in front of Shiv anymore to get her to dance but Shiv already destroyed her relationship with Tom. Tom was the one who filled her with the love and recognition she wants but it’s not enough and it will never be enough because she can't recognize love when it's not transactional. Maybe the poison already dripped through. Logan's dead and nobody is belittling and abusing Roman anymore but Roman is a lost little boy looking for love, the runt of Logan’s litter and Logan toughened him up by hurting him and making him hurt the people he loves: hurt his siblings and hurt Gerri. Maybe the poison already dripped through.

Logan's dead but maybe the poison drips through. Maybe the poison will keep on dripping through. Kendall shaped himself for his entire life to be his father's heir since Logan promised the empire to him when he was 7. Kendall verbally and physically abused Roman in the name of love, pushed Shiv out and said it was him protecting her, lied to his siblings to get his way. Kendall became a monster. Kendall became Logan. But it wasn’t enough. The crown was snatched from him anyway. So in the end, he was left staring at the sea, having lost everything: the company, his siblings, his kids, and maybe he should throw himself inside, there’s nothing left for him to live for anyway. Maybe the poison will keep on dripping through. Shiv manipulated and backstabbed Kendall to snatch the crown from him but in the end it wasn’t hers, it was Tom’s. In the end, she ended up exactly as her mother whom she resented, the wife of the CEO and mother of the CEO’s baby, trapped in a loveless marriage and doomed to repeat the cycle of neglect and abuse. Maybe the poison will keep on dripping through. Roman was in a bar all alone, staring at the glass of Martini. In the end, he can't have his dad, he can't have his siblings, he can't have Gerri, he can only have Gerri’s drink. Maybe the poison will keep on dripping through. Logan pitted his children against each other all their lives and his death opened their gates. Here’s a glass fighting cage. Here are three golden children, three broken mirrors, three fighting dogs. In the end, what else could they do but tear each other apart while everyone watches?

Logan's dead but the poison drips through. It dripped through already and it will keep on dripping through. And here's the sad story. Here's the tragedy. We keep watching this show holding on to redemption, hoping that the siblings would somehow find love, and love conquers all, or so we thought, so the kids will somehow be alright. But it’s too late. It’s too goddamn late. The poison has been dripping through all along. The ending has been written in ink long ago, in the childhood videos where the children stood together and Logan always walked away from them. The ending has been writ in stone in Logan's mausoleum with four empty reserved spots: for the three golden children and Connor, the actual eldest son who was always ignored, yet he could not escape the trio’s ending anyway.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 8: The Toxic In Intoxication

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9

Your mouth is poison (your mouth is wine)

(In which an all over the place writer, writes something that's a little bit all over the place)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy,

Words: 9.0K

TW: Swearing, a little bit of violence, mentions of blood, men being men

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Unfortunately, as I've been warning y'all for a while, the deadline did finally slip through my fingers. However I'm hoping y'all will forgive me for it because I am only one day late and this chapter is quite long. I do wanna warn y'all in advance that there won't be a chapter next week because I am going on vacation and my laptop is staying very, very far away from me. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm not sure how I feel about the whole thing but I'm hoping y'all will enjoy it anyways. I did actually edit this time but who knows how successful that was, so please let me know about typos/mistakes. As always, feel free to tell me about what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your weeks my loves <3

August 2025

Azzi Fudd is a spectacular liar. She excels at keeping up a façade of yes everything is perfectly fine in front of her friends and family. She’s quite good at tricking people she can barely stand into thinking oh yes i’m totally enjoying this conversation. But the person Azzi lies the most to, is without a doubt herself. As she steps out of the car into the hot Indiana air, bustling with noises from the growing crowd inside, Azzi internally repeats a lie to herself again: she did not show up to all-star weekend for a glimpse of her ex girlfriend. She’s here, as per Colleen’s managerial advice, to build connections, to further her career and to expand on opportunities in the basketball world. The fact that Paige Bueckers, who Azzi hasn’t seen in three months -the longest period of time they’d spent apart since she’d started at UConn- is definitely also going to be attending tonight’s party, is merely a happenstance. 

Taking a deep breath, Azzi puts one kitten heeled foot in front of the other, trying to ignore her heightened nerves. This isn’t her preferred scene by any means. She’d much rather be back in her hotel room, curled on her couch with a book and a pint of ice cream. It’s not that Azzi doesn’t like parties; she has her fair share of fun at Ted’s, but it’s the unfamiliarity of the environment and the lack of that once ever present comforting hand that used to tap out i’m here for you against the back of her own at big events like these, that has her yearning to crawl back into the car and hide away. 

“Azzi?” a familiar voice calls from behind her and Azzi lets out a sigh of relief as she sees Aaliyah walking towards her with a large welcoming grin, “Azeray!”

“Li-Li. Thank god you’re here,” Azzi reaches up to hug her former teammate, mentally thanking whatever god was looking out for her. She’d dreaded walking in by herself and now she wouldn’t have to. Really she probably should probably send Coach a ‘thank you’ text for having so many alumni in the league that there was bound to be a Husky she could attach herself to for the night. 

“I’m glad to see you too Az,” Aaliyah says, pulling away and looking at Azzi with a semi-concerned look, “but you seem a little extra relieved to see me? You good dude?”

“Just- just a little nervous,” Azzi admits, shuffling her feet uneasily. 

Realization dawns on Aaliyah’s face, “cause of Paige?”

“No you know I don’t like big unfamiliar places,” Azzi sighs when Aaliayh gives her a pointed look, “but I guess maybe- maybe a little cause of Paige.”

The Mystics forward shakes her head before linking her arms through Azzi’s, “I swear, I leave y’all for one year and everything implodes-," she bites her tongue, "shit was that insensitive?”

“No,” Azzi grimaces, “that’s pretty much exactly what happened.”

Something hard coils in her stomach at Aaliyah’s words. The truth is they’d been fine. Better than fine even. And then suddenly Azzi was lighting a box of matches she hadn’t even known she was holding and her whole world was on fire; an implosion of everything Azzi had once thought inflammable. She’d burned her hands trying to rescue them and all she has to show for it are invisible red hot pustules that refuse to heal. But perhaps, she thinks, that’s what a pyromaniac like her had deserved. 

Azzi cowers under the flashing lights of the cameras, clinging tighter to Aaliyah’s arm as the two of them make their way onto the orange carpet, the cameramen immediately swinging their devices to capture the college basketball player more than likely to be the number one pick in next year’s WNBA draft. She feels herself tense under their piercing gaze, anchored only by Aaliyah's strong and steady presence next to her. And as they pose for the cameras, she’s thankful for her former teammate’s company but she can’t shake the feeling that it should have been someone else. 

“And look who we have here,” Lexie Brown says excitedly as the two of them approach the interviewer, “y’all Huskies clean up nice.”

“We try, we try,” Aaliyah answers charismatically, doing a little hair flip to match her tone. 

“Aaliyah, it's your first all-star nod, how are you feeling?” 

“I feel great, you know it’s always good to see yourself being acknowledged and being an all-star has always been a goal of mine. So, I hope it’s the first of many and I’m just hoping my team gets the W tomorrow,” Aaliyah answers diplomatically.

Lexie turns to Azzi, “I bet you’re really proud of her. I mean you’ve got a couple of teammates who are first-time all stars between Aaliyah and Paige. You’ve gotta be feeling pretty proud of them”

“Y-yeah I mean,” Azzi clears her throat, trying not to flinch at the mention of Paige’s name, “It’s been- it’s been really exciting to watch them and I’m extremely proud-”

She’s cut off by the sound of excited chatter filling up the air and Azzi doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s just entered the premises. Not when she has a whole separate sensory system that flares up just for her. Azzi’s skin prickles as she registers the sound of familiar peals of laughter echoing from the orange carpet. She digs her nails into the palm of her hand, forcing herself not to turn around. 

“Speak of the devil,” Lexie says goodnaturedly, getting her hand ready to beckon the blonde over and Azzi feels panic suffocate her lungs, not quite ready to face Paige yet. 

“Oh I don’t think-” Aaliyah tries to cut in, glancing worriedly at her friend but it’s too late. 

“Paige,” Lexie calls out, beaming over Azzi’s head at the Dallas Wings’ newest star point guard. 

The world seems to move in slow motion as Azzi feels Paige getting closer and closer to her. She smells the faint scent of fresh mint weaved with a hint of citrus first. Then she hears the sound of Paige’s breathing, perfectly even to anybody else but Azzi can hear the staggered harshness hidden beneath it. And as the blonde passes over her to settle on Lexi’s other side, she feels Paige’s arm brush against her own and it hurts to breathe. The contact lasts for a second but Azzi swears it’ll last forever, tattooing itself on her bicep as a wretched reminder of a touch she’s no longer allowed to crave. 

It’s funny, there’s a hurricane swirling between them and Paige can barely look at Azzi, keeping her eyes firmly on Lexie and Aaliyah as she greets the trio. And yet, there’s a sense of calm -of peace- that seems to wash over Azzi just by having Paige near her again. The older woman seems to possess some sort of magical power that weaves itself into Azzi’s nervous system, soothing away her frazzled nerves with an unspoken promise of and if you give me the chance i’ll make it all okay. 

Despite the hectic transition from a full college season to a frantic W season, Paige looks ethereal as always. Her two piece cropped vest top and straight fitted pants match the color of her eyes and a silver chain dangles across her chest. Two strands of blonde hair hide her signature diamond studs, the rest of it pulled back into a slightly messy bun. Azzi gulps at the way the vest top parts right above her midriff, Paige’s toned abs playing peek-a-boo behind it. She lets her eyes roam over Paige’s exposed arms, trying to ignore memories of how they used to go taut under her touch, down to the blonde’s bare fingers and she feels her heart constrict. No rings. It feels wrong. But then again, nothing has felt right for three months. 

“Azzi,” Aaliyah hisses and Azzi snaps out of her thoughts, realizing she’d been asked a question. 

“Sorry,” she laughs nervously, moving a strand of her hair out of her face; Paige’s eyes intently following the movement, “what was the question.”

Lexie smiles, “I was just asking about your thoughts on Paige’s amazing rookie year so far?”

“Oh um-” Azzi hesitates, shivers inching up her spine as she feels Paige drinking in the sight of the her body like she's a woman parched, “I’m just-” their eyes lock with each other’s and everything else seems to vanish until it feels like it’s just the two of them floating in between remnants of what they used to be, “I’m just really proud of her. I always knew she’d be amazing. She’s just doing what she always does. Being the best player she can be. So yeah I’m just- I’m just really proud of her.”

And Azzi doesn’t know how they got to this point where Paige seems almost shocked that Azzi could be proud of her, to this point where there’s droplets threatening to spill over both of their water lines and they no longer have the right to wipe each other’s tears away. 

“Aww,” Lexie coos, oblivious to the tension, “well on that sweet note, off y’all go and we’ll see y’all later.”

The walk into the party is kept alive with Aaliyah’s attempt at keeping a conversation going. While Paige tries to at least entertain some of, Azzi finds herself completely zoning out until they finally make their way inside into the cacophony of music and laughter. 

“Y’all wanna get-” Aaliyah begins.

“I see Jewell and Téa,” Paige cuts her off immediately, her legs already moving in a rush, “I’ll see y’all later.”

She gives Aaliyah a tentative grin but barely looks at Azzi as she practically trips over her pant-sleeves trying to get away. It feels like something’s biting against her skin, sharp teeth indenting you did this to yourself as Azzi watches Paige walk away. She watches as the tension slowly leaves the blonde’s muscles as she’s pulled into a hug by Jewell and then by Téa. The fake smile that she’d politely kept on her face the last couple of minutes for the sake of the cameras and reporters is replaced by something far more genuine. Azzi watches as Paige is absorbed into the warmth of the growing crowd, embraced by a league that adores her, and she feels the ice cold pinch of she belongs somewhere without you now start to freeze her own heart. 

***

Azzi’s doing fine. She’s gotten through the night with Aaliyah by her side, making small talk with a bunch of different players and she’s managed to keep a friendly smile the whole time. She’d even danced for a little bit, letting loose with some of the other college basketball players that had made the trip to Indianapolis. Sure, she’d occasionally been distracted by her eyes flickering over to the bar and finding a new pretty influencer batting their fake eyelashes at Paige but really she’s doing fine. Her head’s a little dizzy and maybe the third shot of tequila, influenced by a one leggy brunette that had gotten a little too handsy, wasn’t her brightest decision of the night but really, Azzi’s doing fine. 

Until she’s not. 

And it’s Paige's fault. She had to know that it would be Azzi’s last straw. She had to know that Azzi could live with watching a thousand girls flirt with Paige as long as the blonde in question stood rigidly by the bar doing nothing but smiling politely at them. She had to know that Azzi, after having spent most of their college life watching girls fawn over her girlfriend, could deal with the flirty hands that lingered just a little too long on Paige’s bicep. But it’s when Paige leans into this one girl -whose dark curls and tanned caramel skin are just a little too reminiscent of her own- when Paige’s lips graze just a little to close this one girl’s ear, that Azzi realizes she’s decidedly not fine. 

“I need some air,” she manages to bite out, ignoring Aaliyah’s concerned look as she marches out the back door, heading towards the deck. 

Azzi buries her face in her hands as she leans back against the brick wall. She knows she’s being unfair; knows she has absolutely no right to feel this way but something burns within her anyways and the light breeze does nothing to cool it down. 

“I’m not cheating on you,” a harsh voice interrupts her pity party and Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “We’re not together and I can flirt or kiss or fuck-” she flinches, “anyone if I want to.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Paige’s voice is laced with accusation, “because the way you just stormed out says otherwise.”

Azzi continues to keep her head in her palms, refusing to look at the blonde, “it’s hot and stuffy in there. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying,” Paige spits out. 

“Well what do you want me to say instead?” Azzi finally looks up, her even cadence in stark contrast to Paige’s fiery tone, “I know we’re not together-”

“Because that’s what you wanted-”

“I know,” Azzi yells, and then quieter, “I know. I know I- I know I did this. But that- that doesn’t make it any easier to see you with someone else,” she swallows, “doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

Paige scoffs, rubbing her face as she begins to pace, “you miss me? I was at Mohegan when y’all had summer camp. The whole team showed up to the game except for you and you want me to believe that you miss me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me there,” Azzi confesses in a whisper, “you were so mad at me after-after everything- and I just- I didn’t want to ruin coming back to Connecticut for you.”

“For me,” Paige lets out a laugh devoid of any emotion, “god Azzi there you go again with this fake ‘selfless’ bullshit.”

A thousand and one retorts die on the tip of Azzi’s tongue as she shakes her head and pushes herself off the wall. She can smell the alcohol on Paige, can tell the blonde is itching for an argument but all she feels is pure exhaustion. 

 “I don’t wanna fight Paige. I’m tired and I just-” she bites her lip, fighting the urge to caress Paige’s cheek, “believe it or don’t but- I really do miss you.”

Sparks of electricity dance their way through Azzi’s veins when Paige curls a hand around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks from going inside. And suddenly she doesn’t feel so cold anymore. 

“Dance with me,” Paige whispers. 

“What?” 

Paige shrugs, tugging on Azzi’s hand to pull her closer, “you said you don’t wanna fight and I- I don’t want you to go,” the confession hangs between them as Paige’s hands fall to Azzi’s waist, “so- let’s just- let’s pretend.”

“What are we pretending?” Azzi asks quietly and despite the warnings ringing in her head, she wraps her arms around Paige’s neck. It feels like coming home. 

“We’re pretending that we’re okay,” Paige says softly, holding Azzi’s hips as she begins to sway them gently, “we’re pretending that three months ago you said yes.”

“Paige-”

“Close your eyes Azzi,” the blond waves her hand gently across Azzi’s face, willing both of their eyelids to flutter shut, “we’re pretending that we’re not here- we’re in Minnesota or DC or I don’t know just- anywhere. And our families are here, laughing and talking and some sappy romantic song is playing. It's the best day of our lives and we’re both- we're both dressed in white-”

“Paige,” Azzi lets out a sob, as she begins to understand the picture Paige is painting for them; a picture drawn on a canvas that Azzi had torn up before any color could touch it

“Sshhhh just- let me have this okay,” Paige’s voice trembles as she leans her forehead against Azzi’s, “if I can’t have it for real, please just let me pretend.”

If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Azzi would fight Paige’s tightening grip. If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Paige would let go. Instead Azzi lets Paige play pretend, lets them keep their bodies pressed against each other, moving from side to side in rhythm with the wind. 

It isn’t until she hears footsteps approaching them that Azzi hurriedly moves away first and she can see the betrayal of if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world written all over Paige’s face. They’re both quick to swap their tears for smiles that don’t reach their eyes as they turn to face the intruders. And Azzi wonders if Paige wishes she’d drank a little bit more too. Because maybe if they were both just a little more drunk, then tomorrow they wouldn’t have to remember just how right it had felt to play pretend tonight. 

April 2033 

“You look so pretty Mama,” Stephie gushes from where she’s perched on the bed as she watches Azzi put the finishing touches to her makeup

“Thanks baby,” Azzi smiles, blowing a kiss in the mirror. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie flips the running facetime call, skipping over to her mother with the phone in her hand, “doesn’t Mama look beautiful?”

Sixteen years later, and maybe it’s because of all the time they’d missed in between, but Azzi can’t help the bout of shyness that flushes across her features when Stephie places the phone, Paige’s face illuminated all over it, against the mirror so the blonde can get a proper look at Azzi’s outfit.

“You look-” Paige clears her throat, eyes dilated as they rake over Azzi’s whole body, “you look phenomenal.”

“Big word Bueckers,” Azzi teases, trying to disguise her blush, “did you just learn it?”

Paige rolls her eyes, “can’t even give you a compliment without an insult Fudd.”

“You guys argue too much,” Stephie says exasperatedly, shaking her head at the two adults who laugh. The younger girl sometimes seems far wise beyond her age. 

“We’re not arguing Stephie, we’re just-” Azzi struggles to think of a word. 

“Foreplaying,” Paige mutters under her breath and Azzi immediately glares at her. 

“Paige!”

Stephie scrunches up her nose at the screen, “what does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Azzi says shrilly, “Miss Buecks is just making up words.”

“Why would Miss Buecks do that?” Stephie asks, looking back and forth between her mother and the screen. 

“Why does Miss Buecks do anything,” Azzi babbles, as she begins to usher Stephie out of her room, “go grab your things Stephie-bean. Mama’s almost ready to drop you off at Nana and Pop’s house.”

Stephie pouts, “I wanna go to the party with you and Miss Buecks. It’s no fair you both get to go and I don’t,” she picks up the phone, looking at Paige with wide guilt-tripping eyes, “don’t you love me Miss Buecks?”

Azzi has to hand it to her daughter. She’s a smart one to choose Paige as the victim of her emotional blackmail, knowing her wiles had long stopped working on her mother. 

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Stephie,” Paige says, “but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow I swear.”

Stephie smiles and Azzi shakes her head at how quickly the five-year old’s plan had worked, “you’ll take me to the park and then we’ll get fries and then get ice cream?”

“That’s a lot of junk food Steph-”

“Ssshh Mama,” Stephie chides, “this is between me and Miss Buecks.”

“The park, then fries, then ice cream it is,” Paige concedes and Azzi rolls her eyes. 

Stephie grins brightly, puckering her lips to kiss Paige through the phone and eliciting a laugh from the older woman when she cheers, “you’re the best-est-est Miss Buecks. See you in a little bit. Don’t hang up without saying goodnight.”

“I promise I won’t,” Paige calls out after the little girl as Stepehie hands the phone back to Azzi and starts skipping towards her room. 

Azzi gives the blonde a look, “we have got to have a conversation about you learning to say no to her.”

Paige shrugs unhelpfully, “I don’t want to learn how to say no to her.”

“You’re a lost cause,” Azzi remarks, hands on hips, “and foreplay? Seriously? Us bickering is not foreplay.”

“Well it could be if you’d just let me fuck you after,” Paige grumbles and Azzi’s mouth falls open at the bluntness of it. 

“You say the most romantic things to me Paige Bueckers.”

They’re both quiet for a second as Azzi moves around her room, collecting her wallet and keys and to put into her purse. 

“You know there’s still time for me to come pick you up,” Paige says finally.

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, not wanting a rerun of the same argument they’ve been having for the last week. She knows it’s a touchy subject for Paige; that it veers a little too close to insecurities that stem from their past but she’s not quite ready to take this step yet. There isn’t quite any rhyme or reason to her logic except well, she’s haunted by memories of the last time they’d let the personal mix with the professional. Her phone still holds invitations to countless team reunions that she’d actively avoided and a group chat that she’s long muted. Azzi hasn’t stepped foot in the state of Connecticut since she’d entered the draft; she refuses to lose California too. 

“Teammates can carpool,” Paige explains vehemently, “it’s easily explainable.’

“I know-”

“Is this about Clémence?” bitterness tinges the edge of Paige’s voice as she chews her bottom lip. And there it is, the other subject they’d been tip-toeing around since it had been brought up at breakfast a week ago. Paige and Azzi are both excellent at avoiding talking about the harder topics but they’ve never quite managed to let anything go forever. 

“Why would this be about Clémence?” 

Paige narrows her eyes, sitting up from where she’d previously been lounging against her pillow, “maybe you don’t want her to see us together? Maybe you’re trying to spare her feelings I don’t know.”

“Paige-”

“You know what it’s fine,” Paige huffs, “I’ll see you at the bar Azzi.”

She hangs up before Azzi can say anything and the brunette lets out a litany of curses under her breath, annoyed with Paige’s ability to go from A to Z by skipping everything in between. There’s a part of her that knows Paige deserves an explanation about Clémence, a chance to have her lingering doubts confirmed or denied, but amidst the egoistic thoughts of well she married someone else and the self preservationist urge to prevent a potential fight, she hadn’t been brave enough to approach the topic just quite yet. Azzi’s about to step out of the room, when her phone pings with a facetime call from Paige again. 

“Are you calling to apologize for hanging up?” Azzi asks with a frown. 

“No,” Paige replies stubbornly, “I called because I hung up without saying goodnight to Stephie and just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m gonna miss saying goodnight to her.”

Something wonderful and warm blooms in Azzi’s chest as she silently walks over to Stephie’s room. This is a new chapter in Paige’s storybook that she’s slowly beginning to read; one scribbled with the blonde’s devotion to Azzi’s baby girl. Azzi still has every other chapter memorized; had thought nothing could be more beautiful than the words within the one that had been dedicated to her. But she’d been wrong. Because every day that she watches Paige and Stephie fall more and more in love with each other, she finds herself falling in love with how much they love each other. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, practically snatching the phone from her mother’s hand as she goofily grins at the screen, “you didn’t hang up.”

“I promised I wouldn’t,” Paige says, the hardness that had existed in her voice while talking to Azzi, dissolving into adulation, “you be good for Nana and Pops okay?”

“I’m always good,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “can you come over really, really, early tomorrow?”

Paige laughs, “I’ll be there as soon as I wake up.”

“Good,” Stephie claps contentedly as she grabs Azzi’s hand to start walking towards the car, “good night Miss Buecks.”

“Good night Stephie-bean,” Paige echoes, blowing a kiss through the screen. 

“Paige,” Azzi says urgently, trying to stop the older woman from hanging up, “can you just hold on a second while I buckle Stephie in.”

“Az-”

“Please.”

“Fine,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s gaze as she sulks. 

Azzi lifts Stephie onto the car seat, fastening her seatbelt and pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, before she closes the car door and uses it as a stabilizing structure to lean on as she pulls her phone back in front of her. 

“Hey,” she whispers. 

“Hi,” Paige says back begrudgingly, “you wanted to say something?”

“I-” Azzi swallows, “don’t go the bar-”

“Oh fantastic,” Paige cuts her off, her voice furious as she glares daggers at Azzi through the phone, “not only do you not want to go to the bar together, you don’t want me to go at all. Fine. Okay. Whatever. I won’t go. You have the time of your life with fucking Clementine or whatever-”

“Yet,” Azzi says loudly, trying to speak over Paige’s angry rant, “don’t go to the bar yet.”

“What?” 

Azzi licks her lips, “don’t go yet. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents-”

“What does that have to-”

“Will you just let me fucking finish?” Azzi almost bangs her fist on the car in frustration and she’s glad to see that it makes Paige look just a little bit sheepish, “as I was saying. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents and uh- your house- it’s um- it’s on the way to the bar so I thought,��� she shrugs with fake nonchalance, the edge of her mouth turning upwards, “I thought maybe- maybe I could pick you up on the way.”

Paige stares blankly at the screen, eyes blinking as Azzi’s words slowly register, “you- you wanna go to the bar together?”

“I didn’t say that,” Azzi teases, eyes twinkling as she basks in the thrill of eliciting that Azzi smile from Paige’s lips, “teammates carpool right?”

“Teammates definitely carpool.”

April 2029 

“You invited Clémence to our movie night?” Jana asks in a whisper, as she walks into the kitchen where Azzi’s making popcorn. Her Saturday nights have gotten rather boring since she’s had Stephie, consisting of alternating between movie nights with Jana and dinner with her parents. It wasn’t the most thrilling of times but she looked forward to them all week, excited to not have to spend a night in solitude.

“She asked what I was doing tonight and I told her we were having a movie night and then she asked if she could join and well I couldn’t just say no,” Azzi explains, sticking the bag into the microwave. 

Jana cocks an eyebrow, “do you want me to leave?”

“Why would I want you to leave?” Azzi asks, crinkling her nose as she juts out an ear just in case the baby monitor goes off. 

“C’mon Az,” Jana says pointedly, leaning on her elbows against the kitchen counter, “you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

Azzi grimaces uneasily, not quite wanting to answer the question, “nothing that would require you to leave.”

“If that’s the way you want to play it,” Jana relents, grabbing a soda from the fridge on her way back to the living room, before she pauses in the doorway to look back at Azzi, “but I know what it looks like when somebody’s in love with you. And that girl out there,” she nods her head towards where Clémence is daintily sitting on the couch, “she’s definitely getting there.”

Jana’s a rather observant person but Azzi knows that she’s at least a little bit wrong this time. Because Clémence might be a little bit in love with -even if that’s not a fact Azzi particularly wants to acknowledge- but it's impossible for her to look at Azzi the way Jana remembers someone else looking at her. That had been something completely different; a gaze that saw all the little chinks in her armor, all the imperfections carved against her walls and loved her inspite of them, maybe even because of them. Clémence might love her, but Azzi doesn’t think anyone can be in love with her the way the person she’d been hopelessly in love with, had. 

When she walks back into the living room with the popcorn in hand, still plagued by her younger teammate’s words, Azzi’s deliberate to sit on the couch next to Jana instead of the open space next to the francophone. The flash of hurt in Clémence’s eye causes guilt to trickle down her spine but Azzi thinks a flash is better than the tsunami of pain she could cause if she doesn’t start to ease herself out of this right now. There’s a selfish part of her that doesn’t want to, that’s going to miss having somebody who hangs onto her every word. Azzi likes this feeling of being wanted, even if it’s not by the person she wants. But that person isn’t hers to want anymore and she won’t torture Clémence by barricading her in the same jail that has held Azzi’s soul captive for the last four years. 

They’re about half way through the movie, awkward tension eased by Jana’s incessant chatter, when Azzi’s phone buzzes. Already confused at the timing of the call, she’s even more perplexed to see Ice’s name flashing on the screen. 

“Oooh Iceyyy,” Jana’s eyes light up when she catches a glimpse of the CallerID, “put her on speaker. Ice is one of our UConn teammates,” she explains, turning to Clémence who nods in recognition, “she probably did something dumb as fuck and need Azzi’s advice.”

“Don’t be mean,” Azzi scolds with a grin, knowing that Jana’s probably right as she picks up the call, “hello-”

“I hate you,” Azzi freezes at the sound of the familiar voice, laced with unfamiliar malice. Next to her Jana stiffens immediately while Clémence observes the scene in front of her with a guarded frown. 

“Paige who the fuck are you calling?” Ice’s voice is muffled in the background, “oh shit, Paige give me back my phone.”

“No. She needs to hear this,” Paige grits out, her pitch wavering with the effects of alcohol, “she needs to hear how much I fucking hate her. Azzi do you hear me? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. Did you hear what I said?”

“Paige,” Ice hisses again. 

Azzi swallows the lump in her throat, fingers digging into her bare thighs as she grips her phone so hard, she half-expects it to break into pieces in a reflection of her heart, “I heard you Paige.”

“Good. Because I do. I really fucking hate you,” Paige repeats again and Azzi flinches, “you ruined me Azzi. And now you’re ruining my marriage. My wife is perfect. She loves me. She loves being seen with me. She loves being known as my wife. Everything I ever wanted from you, she’s willing to give me. But she saw that damn hug at the Olympics and she- she’s upset with me. She thinks- she thinks I’m not over you.”

“Az maybe you should-” Jana says softly but Azzi immediately raises a hand to stop her. Maybe she’s a masochist but she can hear the hurt laced underneath the anger in Paige's voice. And if what Paige needs to get rid of her pain is a target to aim all her arrows at, then Azzi’s willing to sacrifice her heart, or at least what little is still left of it. 

“And the worst thing about it,” Paige’s voice breaks, “is that she's probably right. I have the perfect fucking woman at home and I can’t seem to get over the one who broke my heart and never looked back. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Paige,” Ice pleads again and Azzi can hear her former teammate trying her best to wrangle the phone out of Paige’s firm grasp. 

“I’m not done yet Ice. I need to talk to her and I need to talk to her now because if I don’t, I’ll never get the courage to say any of this again,” Paige is sobbing now, and her broken whimpers pierce Azzi’s heart deeper than any words could,  “why couldn’t you just have said yes Az? I know- I know your reasons but why- why couldn’t you have just loved me enough to look past them? How do you do it Azzi? How do you live without me because it’s been four years and I- I still don’t think I know how to live without you and I hate you, I hate you because you do.”

No, Azzi thinks, I really don’t. But she doesn’t say anything, rapidly blinking back tears as she avoids both Jana’s concerned look and Clémence’s more thoughtful gaze. 

“I wish I could just feel nothing towards you Azzi,” Paige confesses, heaving as she struggles to breathe through her tears, “I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want to miss you and I really- I really, really don’t want to love you. Please just make it stop. I’m so tired of this Azzi. I’m so tired of hurting. How do I make it go away? Please tell me how I make it go away? How did you make it go away?”

“I didn’t,” Azzi whispers, so soft she’s not sure Paige heard it; she’s not sure if she wants Paige to have heard it. It’s the kind of pain, she thinks, she’s destined to feel forever. It’s weaved itself into every crevice of body and now it exists as just another innate part of her. Paige thinks Azzi’s learned to live without her but really all Azzi’s learned is how to live with these permanent scars of i think i’ll miss you forever. 

“That’s enough Paige,” Ice’s voice is clearer now, having finally snatched the phone out of her teammate’s grip, “Azzi-” she begins apologetically, “she’s just drunk. She didn’t mean-”

“She did,” Azzi clears her throat, sinking into the way Jana's arms wrap around her, “she’s um- she’s gonna be really hungover in the morning. Make sure she- make sure you give her water but don’t- don’t give her coffee. She’ll want it but it’ll only make it worse because she uh- she- when she drinks too much, her stomach hurts and the caffeine- it just- it makes it worse so- don’t let her drink coffee tomorrow morning okay? And make sure- make sure she eats something before she takes painkillers. And Ice?’

“Yeah Azzi.”

“If she doesn’t remember any of this tomorrow morning, please don’t remind her.”

***

April 2033

The bar is buzzing with noise by the time Paige and Azzi finally arrive. It’s an exclusive enough place that they won’t be too bothered by fans asking for pictures and autographs but the size of the crowd still puts Azzi a little bit on edge. She can’t help the small smile that flitters across her face when she feels Paige’s hand resting on her lower back as the blonde guides the two of them through the crowd in search of their teammates. For the last eight years, Azzi has been her own protector and she’s learned to guard herself but it’s nice -it feels right- to have someone else ready to be her shield too. 

“You know Bueckers,” Joyce says as the two of them finally approach the table that had been reserved for the Valkyries, “some might say that one should be on time when meeting their new teammates. Just a thought.”

“And some might say Edwards that being fashionably late is being on time,” Paige quips back. 

Joyce grins, “alright time for introductions.”

“I’m pretty sure I know-”

“Shut up,” Joyce reprimands, throwing an arm around Paige’s shoulders, “let me introduce these brand new people to you.”

“They’re not-”

“Sssshhh. Let me have my fun. We’ll start over here with Westbeld and Booker. You might know them, their teams kicked your ass during the 23-24 season,” Joyce says with a smirk. 

“Oh I do remember that,” Paige says thoughtfully, eyes twinkling with mirth, “what happened the season after?”

“Don’t be cocky Bueckers. It’s unbecoming,” Madison chides as she rises from the table to give Paige a hug. 

“Yeah I try not to remember that Elite Eight game thanks,” Laila says, making a disgusted face. 

Joyce glares at her, “did I introduce you yet Miss Phelia?”

Laila raises her hands in surrender as Joyce continues to give Paige a tour of the Valkyrie team. Azzi had known that Paige would fit in well with her teammate -really the blonde had the uncanny ability to fit in anywhere- but seeing it realized in front of her, it seems even clearer. Paige feels like the last mosaic piece, slotting in right where she belongs. 

“Those two over there are our babies,” Joyce points to Haylen and Jayla, “they’re like five years old but we love them anyways.”

“I’m almost 25,” Haylen protests. 

“See,” Joyce remarks, “literally children. And that one,” she points to Jana who beams at Paige, “well you already know her even if you sometimes wish you didn’t probably-”

“Hey!”

“Oh shush Jana,” Joyce says airily, “and I supposed there’s no point in introducing Azzi to you since y’all came together,” she pauses to look between them, “y’all don’t live that close to each other. Why didn’t you just carpool with Jana? I’m pretty sure she lives closer to you.”

Paige opens and closes her mouth a couple of times as Azzi feels her own cheeks heat up at the innocent enough question, “we um- well it's just- you see- my house is on the way from her parents and she had to drop off Stephie so it just- it just made sense you know? For efficiency’s sake.”

“Oh yeah for efficiency’s sake. They’re both very efficient,” Jana smirks, “makes a lot of sense.”

Joyce gives all three of them a weird look, “y’all Huskies are strange. It was just a question but anyways,” she grins as she finally steers Paige towards the blonde in the corner and Azzi stiffens at the way Paige’s body immediately tenses, “a couple of our teammates aren’t here but we do have a former teammate. Paige meet Clémence.”

“We’ve met,” Paige says, attempting to school her features to resemble anything but the discomfort she’s feeling within, “during the Olympics that is. We’ve beat France a couple of times.”

It’s a purposeful word choice, beat instead of played and Azzi's fingers fidget with the hem of her top as she tries to avoid looking at either of the two women. 

“Yes. It is good to see you again,” Clémence says tersely, her French accent stronger than the last time Azzi had spoken to her. She shakes Paige’s hand rather formally before her eyes focus on Azzi and she determinedly walks towards the brunette, “and it is really good to see you Azzi. I have missed you.”

“I-” Azzi stutters at the French woman pulls her into a hug; over her shoulder she can practically see steam coming out of Paige’s ears as she hyper focuses on how Clémence makes it a point rub her thumb down Azzi’s back, “it’s um- it’s good to see you too.”

She pulls away and she can feel the disappointment reverberating from Clémence’s body as Azzi practically flings herself on the chair next to Jana, wondering what she’d done to deserve this moment as a punishment for her sins. 

“Save me,” she pleads as Clémence and Paige sit as far away from each other as possible, occasionally shooting glares when they think the other isn’t looking. 

“Save you from having two hot women fighting over you?” the center teases, “you truly have such first world problems Azzi Fudd.”

“They’re not fighting over me-”

“Azzi you will have your usual rum and coke no?” Clémence asks and Azzi looks over to where the francophone is intently staring at her, “I will go-”

“Oh there’s no need,” Paige says immediately, “you sit Clémence. You already have a drink. I was gonna go get one for myself and I’ll get Azzi’s too. Besides, Azzi's more of a fruity drink girl. Az I’ll get you a piña colada-”

Clémence narrows her eyes, “maybe she liked that when she was in college but Azzi likes something different now.”

“She might like something different now,” Paige counters, standing up aggressively so she towers over the table, “but she’s always gonna love a piña colada right Azzi?”

All eyes turn to look at Azzi who wants nothing more than to cower under the table- or hit Jana who seems to find this very unamusinging situation rather entertaining, “I um-” she swallows, “I think tonight calls for something stronger. Round of shots for the table? On me?”

It placates the situation for a while as the rest of the team cheers on the idea, beckoning over one of the bartenders to orders a round of tequila shots for the table. For a moment, Azzi tricks herself into thinking maybe that’ll be the end of ridiculous situations for the night as the team downs shots to Jana yelling “to the Valkyries” but she should have known it was wishful thinking.

Half the team ends up on the dance floor, swaying to the mixed rhythm of the music and the newly minted alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams. Azzi watches with a smile as despite her protests, Joyce manages to drag Paige onto the dance floor with her, engaging her in some eccentric dance moves as they try to outdo each other on who can look the silliest. And as the rest of the girls cheer the blonde on, it feels like Paige is chiseling out a place for herself in another part of Azzi’s world. 

“She is easy to love,” Clémence’s hot breath fans Azzi’s ear as the francophone takes Jana’s empty seat next to the brunette. 

“Clém-” Azzi sighs. 

“She fits in well with the team,” Clémence continues, something wistful in her voice, “I have seen her play. She will fit in well on the court with you guys as well. She will fit in well next to you.”

“That’s the hope,” Azzi says softly as she tilts her head to look at the other woman, “you fit in well too. I mean it Clém. We’ll miss you at GSV.”

Clémence smiles bitterly, “I would have liked to stay but they needed the cap space so they could sign her. She- she’s quite expensive. I mean considering she is casually wearing swarovski crystals on her neck in a bar on a random Saturday night, I am not surprised.”

The two of them laugh despite the gravity that looms heavily over them. Azzi and Clémence haven’t been anything in a long time but she’d never quite shut the possibility of a potential future done. She can hear the lock ready to click now. It’s bittersweet doing the right thing but as Paige glances over from the dancefloor, eyes darting cautiously between the two of them, Azzi knows that she doesn’t want to keep any other doors open. Not when the one with Paige’s name etched on the door handle, leads to home. 

“One last dance?” Clémence asks softly, holding out her hand. 

Azzi hesitates, knowing that it would irritate Paige but she thinks she probably owes Clémence this and so she smiles and takes the francophone’s outstretched hand as they join their other teammates. It’s nothing beyond friendly and they both keep their hands to themselves as they sway to the music, but Azzi can feel the annoyance radiating off of Paige from across the dancefloor. She would never admit it, perhaps it’s a little toxic of her, but there’s a certain thrill to making Paige jealous. There’s something about the way the blonde’s blue eyes flare with ice cold envy, the way her jaw hardens as she grinds her teeth. The way she looks at Azzi like if she had her way she’d drag the brunette out of the bar and mark her with a possessive you’re mine you’re mine youre mine. It makes Azzi clench her thighs together as she tries to focus on Clémence. 

“I understand now,” the francophone says thoughtfully as Azzi’s peers up at her in confusion, “when you told me that you could not be with me. I get it.”

“I don’t-”

“You are here with me but you aren’t actually. You will always be with her,” Clémence tilts her head towards Paige, “you always have been. I understand now,” she says again simply before her face hardens, “even after all those words she said to you on the phone that night.”

Azzi’s stomach curls at the reminder. She knows exactly what night Clémence is referring to. Sometimes when she closes her eyes, it’s those words, coated in anger and malice, that shower around her like acid rain, seeping into her skin and infecting her bloodstream.

“I told you, you deserved better,” Clémence says and Azzi gulps, “but you said- you said you deserved worse. I hope you don’t believe that anymore Azzi. Just because you hurt her doesn’t mean you need to let her hurt you too.”

“I-” Azzi’s cut off by a hard body ramming into her own and she feels herself going stumbling back into the unwanted arms of a random man, “I’m sorry,” she says tersely, struggling to get out his grip. 

“No worries pretty girl,” he says toothily, the heavy stench of alcohol in his breath making Azzi feel nauseous, “but now that you’re here, how about I buy you a drink.”

“No thank you,” Azzi says sternly, trying to push the man away but he’s relentless. 

“Aw c’mon don’t be like that sweetheart,” the term of endearment sounds like an insult falling from his lips and Azzi loses her patience, stomping her heel into the man’s foot to finally free herself from his grip and he yelps in surprise.

“I said no thank you.”

“What the fuck,” the man spits out, standing up as Azzi takes a step back. He’s got some muscle and although, despite his bravado, she knows she’s strong enough to take him, she’d rather not create a scene. Her plan is to walk away. Paige seems to have other ideas, suddenly materializing in between Azzi and the man, a furious look on her face as she squares him up. 

“Do we have a problem?” the blonde asks menacingly. 

“Nothing other than your little friend here being a fucking bitch.”

Paige’s eyes darken as she takes a threatening step towards him, prevented from going further only by the way Azzi immediately laces a hand around her wrist, “what the fuck did you call her?”

“I called her a-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azzi cuts in, stepping in between a glaring Paige and a man who’s clearly underestimating her strength, “let it go Paige.”

“Yeah,” the man mocks, “let it go Paige.”

“You fucking-” Paige tries to lunge at him but Azzi’s quick to shove her back gently. 

“Don’t cause a scene,” she warns. 

“Azzi-”

“Paige please.”

“Holy shit,” the man wolf-whistles, “y’all play for the Valks. You’re Azzi Fudd. I know you.”

“Good for you,” Azzi spits out at him before turning her attention back to Paige, who looks like she could kill the man if given the chance, “c’mon let's go back to our tab-”

“It’s funny you’re acting like such a fucking prude when you have a bastard chi-”

An unmistakable crunch rings out through the bar as the man goes flying backwards. Azzi’s knuckles are bleeding as her breath comes out in ragged huffs. She hadn’t wanted to cause a scene; could have walked away from a man being a drunken idiot, could have walked away from being called a bitch or hell, even something worse. But the man had attacked the one part of her that she’d always be ready to go to war for. He’d brought up Stephie and she’d seen red. Her fist had moved of it's own accord.

Paige doesn’t say anything and Azzi can feel the anger still vibrating from the older woman’s body as she roughly grabs Azzi’s unhurt hand.

“Let’s go,” the blonde’s voice is eerily low, “we’re going home.”

***

It’s a subconscious choice to let Paige drive Azzi’s car even though they’ve both sobered up considerably, not that one shot had done much in the first place. It’s a subconscious choice that Azzi reaches over to lace her fingers through Paige’s free hand, resting it on her lap, as the blonde use her other hand to grip the steering wheel. It’s a subconscious choice that they end up driving to Azzi’s house in complete silence. She’s not sure who’s mad at who, if they’re even mad at each other or that man or just the world but she can feel the fury suffocating the air. 

“Where’s your first-aid kit?” Paige says gruffly as Azzi unlocks the door. 

“Bathroom,” Azzi says quietly and Paige is off towards it before the word has even fully left the brunette’s mouth. Azzi scrambles after her, pausing in the doorway as Paige rummages through drawers, knowing better than to interrupt to help when Paige looks livid like this.

“Sit,” Paige points to the sink once she’s finally found the sanitizer and gauze to clean up dried up blood staining Azzi’s knuckles. 

“I can do it my-”

Paige glares at her, “just sit on the fucking sink Azzi.”

Putting away her own irritation at being told what to do, Azzi lifts herself onto the flat surface of the sink, opening her legs slightly so that Paige can stand between them. Despite still quivering with barely concealed rage, Paige’s touch is gentle as she dabs at the remnants of red liquid on Azzi’s hand. 

“You should’ve just let me punch him when I wanted to,” she says finally. 

“So you could be the one bleeding?” Azzi raises an eyebrow. 

“No because he would’ve never gotten the courage to say shit about Stephie if you’d just let me kill him when he called you a bitch,” Paige bites out venomously. 

“And let you go to jail? I couldn’t do that to Stephie,” Azzi tries to lighten the tension in the room, “she’d miss you too much. 

“This isn’t funny, Azzi,” Paige seethes as she begins to wrap the white gauze around the wound. 

“I know,” the younger woman says, trailing her other hand down Paige’s arms trying to soothe her anger, “but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fucking fine,” Paige yells. 

“Baby-” the word slips out from Azzi’s lips before she can catch it. She hasn’t used it for someone other than Stephie in so long that it feels foreign on her lips and yet, it fits exactly right. 

“Did you call Clémence that too?” and there it is, the real reason behind the volcano erupting as Paige decidedly looks away from Azzi. 

Azzi narrows her eyes, “I don’t know Paige. Did you call Olivia that?”

“That’s different,” Paige grits out, “Olivia was my wife.”

Azzi flinches at the word; hates that somebody else had ever had the honor of being called that even if she knows it’s unfair of her to feel that way when she’s the one that had turned it down first. 

“Exactly,” she says slowly, “you married someone else-” she holds up a hand when Paige protests, “I know. I know I said no but you married someone else Paige. So you don’t get to be mad at me for having something with someone else too.”

Paige is quiet for a moment and Azzi sees the exact moment the fight leaves her body as she lets out a sigh, leaning her head against Azzi’s shoulder. 

“You’re right,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s neck, hands moving to rest against the brunette’s thighs. 

Azzi runs her hand through Paige’s hair, brushing it in tandem with the harmony of her breathing, “we can’t keep throwing the past in each other’s face, Paige.”

“I know,” Paige breath tickles against Azzi’s skin and she shivers in spite of the tense moment,“I just-” the blonde lifts her head to look at Azzi, “I need to know who Clémence was to you. You- you know what Olivia was to me and I- I just need to know the same about Clémence.”

“She-” Azzi hesitates, “we hooked up a couple of times,” she squeezes Paige’s hand when the blonde flinches, “but then she- she wanted more but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do that. Partly because I didn’t- I didn’t feel the same- don’t look so smug,” Azzi chides when a small grin forms on Paige’s face, “and partly because we were on the same team. I didn’t want to complicate things, not like last time. Feel like I should probably have a rule not to date teammates.”

“Right.”

Azzi watches the cogs turning in Paige’s brain and she reaches out a hand to ease the creases forming on her forehead, “what are you thinking Bueckers?”

“I just-” Paige bites her lip, “what about me?”

“What about you?”

“I mean we’re gonna be- I mean we are- we’re on the same team too,” Paige says and Azzi can hear the insecurity of will you leave me again weaved through her voice. 

“You don’t get it yet do you,” Azzi whispers, reaching up to cup Paige’s face, “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”

[9w1ft]

i declare

thinking about the tortured poets department the song, and the charlie puth line, and how maybe like, the act of declaring he should be a bigger artist helps place the song into the greater timeline.

because it’s a sort of weird thing to say in 2024 of an artist that’s no longer up and coming.

charlie puth got his start in youtube in the late 2000’s and released his debut single in february 2015. and leading up to that he had several EP’s and promotional singles. it made me curious, at what point might the people en masse start to pay him attention? i checked google trends and as you can see here he gets a huge jump between the 2014 and 2015 data.

(he then gets a further jump toward 2016 when he did a promo single featuring megan trainor, and then doing “see you again” with wiz khalifa. (coincidentally this song becomes one of the guest duets featured in the 1989 tour movie))

and i was looking around at articles from this time period, when i ran into this tasty morsel:

so i clicked on through

take a little ride with me

so to summarize, charlie puth had his breakout star peak over the course of roughly 2014-2016, during which he was up for an award at the 2015 MTV VMAs. he doesn’t win, and in fact, he loses out to taylor herself! later on in the article it talks about him going to an after party and hanging out with taylor selena and others. so it had me thinking, i could almost imagine taylor talking with her friends that year or that night, or even declaring to charlie himself in the wake of his loss and her win, in a giddy manner, at the party they are reported as having talked at, that he deserves more success than he gets. in this way i came to the conclusion that the timeframe of 2015-ish (rather than 2023) really fits the spirit of the lyric “we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist”

and

yes.

yes fam.

the 2015 vmas was that vma’s.

that vmas.

let me pull quote an excerpt from the billboard article as i included above, just to emphasize:

4:40 PM: Charlie has the good fortune to walk the carpet in the wake of Taylor Swift’s gaggle of supermodel friends, including “Bad Blood” star Karlie Kloss, leading photographers to alternately yell “Charlie! Karlie! Charlie! Karlie!” as if it were a hectic version of Name Game. While on the carpet, Puth chats with multiple news outlets, and later he says of the dealing with the paparazzi, “It’s amazing that we view people in unnatural states and just love it. I don’t really understand it — it just makes me very uncomfortable. But, whatever. I’m so appreciative to be here.”

such a fun convergence of events, don’t ya think?

and just a few extra points i thought i’d add:

first, i don’t know how many of you remember how taylor was behaving that evening, but don’t you think she was giving major golden retriever energy??

both in how she was chasing after karlie that night,

and also… call me crazy but, her hairstyle??

(also she’s in a houndstooth print, har har)

and i can kind of envision this taylor, who brought the whole bad blood music video crew as her entourage, having more than several bars of chocolate at hand for everyone that night, but ending up eating them all herself 😆

and another thing that helps tie the song to this time period (maybe some of you have guessed?) the line “who else decodes you?” is extra apt because… *da da-da daaaaa*

🤗 karlie had just embarked on her coding journey!

on a more solemn note? i don’t think it requires too much of a stretch of the imagination to see “but you awaken with dread” “i chose this cyclone with you” among other lines pointing to the new layer of stress taylor probably was harboring around being with karlie in public. because this is all taking place in the year directly following kissgate 🥺

so there you have it folks! this is why the tortured poets department is a kaylor song to me 😌

[sunnystrollblog]

Branch: ....Thou shalt not marry each other, for thy art both sinful...

Creek: I just wanna fucking marry Poppy !!

Branch: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Branch: Do you want to know your gay name?

Creek: My... my gay name?

Branch: Yeah, it's your first name-

Creek: Haha. Very funny Branch-

Branch: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Creek: Oh- oh my god.

Poppy: That sounds super! Doesn’t that sound super, Branch?

Branch: No.

Poppy: I think I speak for Branch when I say it sounds really super.

Poppy : Branch, why does your bucket list have ‘Die’ on it?

Branch: So I can die feeling at least a little bit accomplished.

Creek: Am I in trouble?

Branch: Take a guess.

Creek: No?

Branch: Take another guess.

Creek: Make no mistake. Not only am I party rocking, but I am also in the house tonight.

Poppy : But are you shuffling?

Creek: Everyday.

Branch: What language are you two speaking??

Branch: Wow, Poppy , you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.

Poppy : We literally slept together yesterday.

Branch: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

Branch: As top in this relationship, I think we should-

Creek: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

Poppy : Hi, sorry I’m late. I was doing a couple of things and got distracted.

Creek: I’m “a couple of things”.

Branch: I’m “got distracted”.

Poppy : Well, Branch and I finally did it!

The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Poppy : That's right... We kissed!

Creek: *is wearing silk pants* How does this look?

Branch: Like its slips on and off really easily.

Creek:

Branch: No, I didn't mean it like that-

Poppy : We know what you meant.

Poppy : Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Branch is? Because Branch is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.

Creek: Two years ago, I married my best friend.

Creek: Poppy is still mad about it, but me and Branch were drunk and thought it was funny.

Branch: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.

Poppy : *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely*

Branch: That one. I want that one.

Poppy : I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Creek: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you.

*Branch walks in*

Creek: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

*Branch is telling a story*

Poppy : Wow, Branch, this story has everything! Action! Adventure! Romance!

Creek: Romance?

Poppy : I have a crush on him.

Poppy , bursting into the room: You two are having sex!

Branch, not looking up from their book: Really? Creek, why didn’t you tell me? I would have put my book down.

[rorylovesmatt]

Unrequited love - Madison beer

summary: The second Y/n laid her eyes on Madison, she knew she was in love, but she also knew she couldn’t have her. At least not yet.

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, bad ending!!! (i think that’s it?)

word count: 1,000

a/n: yes i did come out of my month long hiatus just to publish a fic for my girl WHAT ABOUT IT (idek how long it’s been this is a wild guess)

Y/n stood on the balcony of her apartment, overlooking the shimmering city lights of Los Angeles below. The night was quiet, with only the distant hum of traffic and the occasional gust of wind rustling through the trees. She leaned against the railing, her thoughts heavy and tangled.

She had everything she could’ve ever wanted. Friends, a successful career as a musician, and a life in a city where dreams were made. But there was one thing she couldn’t have, the love of her life.

It had started innocently enough. She met Madison a year ago at the Sturniolos birthday party. She was everything Y/n could’ve ever asked for in a partner (does that made sense?..) Talented, kind, and stunningly beautiful. Despite her celebrity status, Madison was extremely down to earth, warm, and genuine. She didn’t know who she was at first, which only seemed to endear her to Madison more. As the night went on the two of them talked about everything. Their favorite bands, their most embarrassing moments, their dreams and fears. By the end of the night, Y/n was captivated. She found herself thinking about her constantly, longing for the next time she could hear her voice, her laugh.

But there was a problem. Madison was already in a relationship. She knew it from the beginning, yet she couldn’t help herself. The more time she spent with her, the deeper she fell. Y/n cherished every moment, every text message, every late night phone call. She lived for the times when Madison’s hand would accidentally brush against her own or when she’d look at her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. She knew that they didn’t mean the same thing to Madison as they did to her.

Madison saw her as a friend, someone she could trust, someone who understood her in a way few others did, but Y/n saw Madison as so much more.

One evening, after an emotional recording session (is that the proper term?) , Y/n invited Madison over to her place. She had written a new song, one that she had poured her heart into and she wanted Y/n to be the first to hear it. As she sat on her couch, listening to her sing, Y/n watched her closely, hoping to see something in her eyes that would tell her that she felt the same way. But when the song ended, all she did was smile and tell her how beautiful it was, how talented she was.

“Madison..” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “have you ever wondered what it would be like if things were… different? like If we had met at a different time under different circumstances?”

She looked at her confused. “What do you mean?”

Y/n hesitated. She had rehearsed this conversation a hundred times in her head but now that the moment was here, she wasn’t sure if she could go through with it. “I mean… if you weren’t with someone else. If we could be more than just friends.”

There was a long silence as Madison processed her best friend’s words. Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, every second feeling like an eternity. Finally, she spoke.

“Y/n, you’re an incredible person. I love and care about you so much, but I’m with someone else. I can’t just throw that away.”

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. Y/n had known this would be her answer, but hearing it out loud still broke her heart. “I understand,” she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Madison reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I don’t want to lose you Y/n. You mean so much to me.”

She forced a smile, even though her heart was shattering. “You won’t lose me. I’ll always be here for you. I promise”

[teez-the-time]

dear may, i had to stop reading your san warrior fic a few times because my eyes are just filled with tears. 😭💕

excuse my wordings as i am not a writer but more so of a reader instead but your whole writing was done in such a wonderful way that i was left speechless and of course, in tears once again.

sannie written as such hopeless romantic and absolutely brave warrior is so accurately depicted that i truly believe he definitely can be one in his past life! 🙈

i guess as i am typing this, i just want to thank you so much for this brilliant piece of art that you decided to share with us here. 💖

hope this is just the first of many from you! 🥹

- ✨anon

MY. HEART. STOP.

No but, ever since I posted "Choi San, Wolf Warrior" I've received so many heartwarming messages and reviews that I literally had to sit down. You really have no idea how much a little support means to someone who never expected any kind of reaction from others. While I planned to continue posting my stories even if no one saw them, these kind of messages encourage me to keep exploring my potential.

I was SUPER nervous when I posted the story. For a moment, I even thought of deleting it and never having it see the light of day. I'm glad I didn't. I also contemplated making a second part, but ultimately decided to leave it as it is and not wear off the magic. Nevertheless, seeing that you like it so much...I present you a little story of Y/N and San before the big events of the story.

Lastly, dear anon: I obviously don't know you, but thank you for that beautiful message. Keep supporting ATINY authors with your sweet words, since many will appreciate them.

XOXO -May

Pairing: Warrior! San x Chief's daughter! Fem! Reader

Genre: fantasy, action, romance

Warnings: some cursing and metions of sex, but nothing explicit, Y/N and San are both whipped pt. 2.

Wc: 1.8k

Taglist: @darkdayelixer

You could barely see the ground in front of you as you walked through one of the furthest parts of the village in the middle of the night. It was way past the usual time you would have been home asleep, but one of your friends had come to you begging for your help. Apparently, San had come back with the other young men of the village from a successful hunt and was celebrating with some of your friends.

The problem?

Choi San, the fearless warrior, had lost to alcohol and now refused to stop drinking despite being pretty drunk. Seeing that no one was able to make him desist on his attempt to become a rum barrel, your friends resorted to an infallible plan: getting you to take him home.

That’s why you now found yourself walking on a dark path, alone, cursing his name to all the gods above.

May god curse that lightweight idiot, you thought to yourself.

You heard the laughter before you saw anyone. Partially hidden by a dense patch of trees and bushes, the young people of your village used the clearing as a meeting spot for this type of gathering. Consumed by your duties as the chief’s daughter, you had to excuse yourself from attending the party with your friends.

Well, I guess not anymore.

Your friends were scattered around the place. The majority stood in groups in different parts of a small clearing, others sat down on stools. A small group sat on the floor, listening to one of the boys play a guitar. At last, you saw San sitting with some mutual friends around a small wooden table. He couldn’t see you, as his back faced you (but you could recognize his blushed ears anywhere), and nobody seemed to have noticed your presence so far. You walked towards him, trying to be as silent as possible in case someone saw you. It’s not like you didn’t like this type of gathering, but it was pretty late and you had to get San back to his house and then go back to yours. You couldn’t stay for much.

As you approached the group, you could hear San talking, and from your friends’ expressions, he was talking nonsense.

“I am telling you,” he was insistent, but the slur of his words wasn’t very convincing, “no one can compare. Fucking impossible. I witness it with my two eyes every single day. The standards are so high it’s fucking ridiculous”.

You wondered what the hell he was talking about, but as you got closer, you caught your friend Wooyoung’s eyes. He showed you his mischievous smile before turning back to his drunk friend.

“Sanie, but what the hell are you talking about?” he asked San, who made an exasperated gesture.

“Are you dumb or deaf, Jung Wooyoung?” San sloppily motioned for his friends to listen carefully. “I’ll repeat it one more time ‘cause apparently y’all have been hit in the head enough times to become stupid. Y/N is the most perfect human being to ever exist”.

Your eyes widened, and the people that had noticed you started laughing. San didn’t like that. “What the fuck are you laughing at? Listen to me. Liiiisten. Wait, I got dizzy. Okay, I’m good again. So, listen to me”.

“Y/N is literally sooooo perfect sometimes it gets ridiculous. Like, she is so beautiful it doesn’t make sense. None at all. And it’s all the time. Not once in her life has she ever been ugly. No, wait. One time, when we were eleven, she slipped on sheep shit and got covered in it. She smelt horrible and cried like a baby. But now that I think about it, she looked so cute even though she was embarrassed. Goddammit!”

He covered his face, as he couldn’t bear the flutter of his heart. San dragged his hands through his cheeks and continued talking. “And that’s, like, just from the outside. From the inside, she is sooooo smart. Way too smart for her good actually. Hongjoong hyung, you are clever, but you look dumb compared to her. Sometimes, I feel like I’m too stupid to be with her.” He interrupted his speech with a gasp of horror. “Oh my god! What if she leaves me for someone more intelligent?”

His friend, Seonghwa, swatted his arm. “Yah, Sanie! Don’t even think about that!”

San downed the whole mug of beer he had been holding despite everyone’s protests. “But I’m right! She’s so much fucking better than me. She’s beautiful, smart, kind, responsible, and everyone loves her! Hell, I think my parents like her more than me. I mean, I don’t know, but I don’t blame them. Oh, and there’s nothing she can’t do. I’m not joking. She knows medicine, she helps her dad, and she even cooks. Her kimchi, hyung!”. He let out a hiccup and a sniff. “Wait, what was I talking about? Oh right, Y/N. Yes! She’s even good at sex-”

That was your cue to stop his drunk rambles. “Woah, woah. Time for me to stop this party for you, sir.”

San didn’t pay you attention and kept rambling. “Oh no, I promised her that I wouldn’t talk about her like that. Forget the last part. I didn’t say shit about sex. It’s just…it’s just…I haven’t seen her since we left and I miss her sooooo much”. He stopped, his eyes widening. “Gods, I think I even heard her voice just now”.

If your friends weren’t laughing at San’s drunken antics before, they certainly were now. You put your hand on his shoulder. “Sanie, I’m here. It’s time to go home”.

San looked at you as if he had seen a ghost. “Oh my gods! I’m starting to hallucinate”.

In any other circumstance, you would’ve been rolling on the floor with laughter, but you were getting more and more frustrated with him. “San. You are drunk. Time to come home”.

“No!” he refused, holding the empty mug to his chest and pouting, “I won’t follow a fake Y/N. Get out, you impostor!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Sanie, I’m not a fake. It’s me Y/N. I came here to take you home”.

San narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Hmm, I still don’t believe you. Tell me something only the real Y/N would know!”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time he had pulled something similar. You sighed and answered his demand. “Your name is San and your family name is Choi”.

With that simple answer, his entire face lit up. He grinned from ear to ear and grabbed your hand. “You are my Y/N! Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

You had to fight the urge to knock his teeth out, as it would be too bothersome to explain to his parents how his son lost them. “Yes, I am Y/N. Come with me”.

You didn’t have to repeat yourself. Without letting go of your hand, he grabbed the few things he had brought with him and stood up from his seat. His smile was unwavering. “Let’s go home, darling. It’s way too late for you to be out!”

Drunk San was more ridiculous than normal San, so you made no effort to point his logic out. You just slung his arm over your shoulders to help him walk and said goodbye to your friends (who weren’t also totally hammered and didn’t make some colourful suggestions about home activities).

Even if you were annoyed by how drunk San was, you had to admit he was pretty funny when he was in this state. It wasn’t usual for him to drink this much, or at all, which was something you would have to inquire later. But, for now, you enjoyed the nonsense he was humming and muttering. The warmth of his body comforted you in the middle of the night chill.

“My love,” he called out to you. Lately, he seemed more comfortable calling you that in more public settings. “My love, Y/N. I have to admit something”.

“What is it, Sanie?” you inquired.

“I am drunk,” he said dead-seriously, “like super drunk. I don’t know why I drank so much. I am sorry”.

You held back a laugh, hearing how upset he sounded by the end of the sentence. “It’s okay, Sanie. You don’t have to apologise. I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure?” he asked and you repeated your answer. “You’re literally the best ever. I was gonna say best friend, but you aren’t my best friend anymore”.

“Oh?” you played along, knowing there was something he wanted to say, “then who is your best friend now? Wooyoungie? Yeosangie?”

San shook his head energetically. “Nop. They can’t compare to you. You are my best friend, but, like, you aren’t my friend. I don’t like any words for you. You…you are…my love. My Y/N”.

In the middle of that night, on the road you both took together to go home, you choked at San’s confession. You were always impressed at how he wore his heart on his sleeve, never afraid of judgment or rejection. You, on the other hand, were more reluctant to let others in, your guard having been broken by only a few; one of which you carried on your shoulders at this very moment. 

“Me too…” you said barely above a whisper, “I can’t find a word for you, my love…”

For a few moments, neither of you said a word, letting the silence speak for yourselves. You could feel he was regaining sobriety, although a throbbing headache would be waiting for him in the morning. His house stood at the end of the road, and yours wasn't too far away. It was time to say your goodbyes for the night, but you were already planning on stopping by again to leave him some medicine.

"Y'know, we're already twenty," San stated the obvious once again, "we only have to wait two more years".

You didn't dare to say anything. You both arrived at his door, and San removed his arm from your shoulders, but he didn't let go of you. Instead, he placed a hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to him. His other hand found nest on your cheek. From that distance, you could see speckles of moonlight in his eyes, who looked at you with intensity.

"Gods, I can't wait for those two years," he whispered before capturing your lips with his. You reciprocated the kiss, tangling your hands on the hair of his nape. It tasted like alcohol but, somehow, San made it sweeter.

It was perfect, just like him.

You broke away for air, but it wasn't enough for San. He pecked your lips twice more before removing himself from you. You helped him open the door to his home, as he still struggled with basic coordination. He turned around to look at you for one last time, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you~," he grinned and waved at you excitedly as he closed the door slowly. San's figure disappeared from your sight, but you heard a couple of stumbles and curses from the inside.

You smiled to yourself.

I can't wait either.

[lionlena]

We don't love each other (PedroPascalxreader) angst!

A/N: I can't believe I wrote ANGST. It breaks my heart. All because of this one gif. In my imagination, Tyler looks like Tyler Hoechlin.

Summary: You and Pedro are: friends with benefits, for many years. Your layout is simple and clear. You don't love each other. You're friends on a daily basis, you take care of each other... Sometimes you sleep together. You go on dates with other men and Pedro doesn't mind. Everything is simple until you accidentally hear Oscar say that Pedro loves you. Then you decide to tell him the truth and you ruin everything. 

Warnings: angst!!! smut, mentions of sex, friends with benefits, sad, broken hearts, age difference (reader is 15 years younger than Pedro)

*

You thought your arrangement with Pedro was transparent. You were friends with benefits. You two didn't spread it, but your closest friends guessed it.

You met Pedro a few years earlier when his career was just taking off. You liked each other and felt good about each other. You often went to parties together. One day you ended up in bed together. But you and Pedro didn't want something like that to end your friendship. Together, you made the decision to continue your friendship, adding benefits.

Men have needs... Women too.

You had to admit that Pedro was a truly wonderful man, not only in bed, but most of all, out of it. He took cared of you, gave you small gifts and comforted you after a date gone wrong. He was a great friend.

Unfortunately, over time, you realized that you felt something more for him. You really loved him, but you weren't going to tell him that. Pedro has always made it clear, "we don't love each other." He reinforced this position as his career began to take off. You understood and respected it. That's why you dated other men and didn't hide it from Pedro. You didn't sleep with him while you were in a relationship, and he respected that. Sometimes you were a little worried that Pedro rarely dated other women. But you explained it to yourself by his profession. He couldn't risk meeting someone who would announce to the world the next day: I slept with Pedro Pascal and he left me!!! He is an asshole!!!

Well, some women didn't understand that sleeping with a guy doesn't necessarily mean an engagement ring.

Yes, your arrangement with Pedro was clear, transparent and stable. You loved him, secretly, and he... He loved you as a friend. You thought so.

*

You were laughing on the phone when Pedro invited you to a party by the ocean that was supposed to last all weekend.

"Are you crazy! Did you really rent beach houses for everyone?"

"I want to celebrate my success! Y/N, you know me. I want everyone to have fun and no one to worry about how to get home."

"Are you suggesting we are going drink a lot?"

"A lot of!"

You both burst out laughing. You really enjoyed Pedro's success. He deserved it. Deserved all the love and attention. You knew what he went through in life. In your eyes, no one deserved it more that him.

"Okay. I think I can take a few days off."

"Wonderful. Just tell me, do you want a cottage for two?"

You bit your lip and started to think. Pedro obviously sensed that something was wrong and immediately asked:

"Hey, what's wrong? Did you and Tyler break up?"

"Uh, no... But things have gotten complicated for the moment and... I'd rather be alone."

"Okay, do you want to talk about it? I know I've been busy lately with The Last of Us , but we're still friends."

You smiled. Pedro was always worried about you, but you didn't want to spoil his mood.

"It's just a simple lovers' quarrel. He'll get over it."

"OK, see you soon."

"Bye, Pedrito."

You hung up and fell onto the couch. You lied when you said it was nothing. The truth was, you screwed everything up. You and Tyler were a couple for over seven months, it was your longest relationship. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Pedro was in Canada on the set of the show and rarely spoke. It was the truth you didn't want to admit. Tyler was handsome, kind, and... He took your relationship very seriously. A month ago at a family dinner, he knelt in front of you with an engagement ring, and you... You said no and ran.

You really didn't know why you did it. Why?! You tried to call Tyler many times and apologize to him, but he didn't answer. You weren't surprised at all. So you texted him explaining that you were just scared. But you knew it was a lie. The truth was, you missed Pedro. For his body, for having sex with him...

You screamed in rage and started throwing yourself on the couch.

After a few minutes, you decided to go through your wardrobe. Why would you care about Tyler when you could be with Pedro again in a few days. Even if he didn't love you, his presence could bring you comfort.

*

When you got out of the taxi a week later, you felt like you could breathe again and not think about Tyler.

The driver was just taking out your suitcase when you heard Pedro.

"Y/N!!!"

He ran straight at you and you jumped into his arms. You hugged him tightly and inhaled his scent. God, you finally felt good. You pulled back a bit to get a better look at him. You immediately noticed that he had a little more gray hair, but that only added to his hotness. He was wearing a white t-shirt and blue shorts. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you could see how his eyes sparkled. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. Pedro really loved see you.

"I missed you" you said and cupped his cheek with your hand.

"Me too," he purred.

"Who is already?"

"Oscar, Sarah, Linda, Thomas, Adam, Helen... And you. My most important guest."

You slapped his chest and pulled away.

"Stop. I know it's only because you haven't had sex."

It was a harmless joke, but you could easily see Pedro tense up.

"Hey, it's a joke... You know, nothing has changed. Our arrangement. Right?"

Pedro shook himself and nodded. He grabbed your suitcase with one hand and wrapped his other around your waist. He leaned his head towards you and whispered in your ear.

"You look lovely in that dress."

You couldn't help the blush that spread across your cheeks.

A few minutes later, Pedro was leaning against the doorframe of your beach house. He watched you unpack your suitcase. You glanced at him and noticed that he was strangely restless.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?"

"It's more of a question for you." He replied and took a few steps towards you. "We've known each other for over ten years Y/N. We started friendship when you were in your twenties. I know you and I know when you don't tell me everything. Imagine how surprised I was when I called Laura."

You suddenly felt your mouth go dry. Laura was a friend of yours and spoke to you regularly.

"She was very surprised to hear you were going to the party because I quote, Seriously, I thought she was devastated after she turned down Tyler's engagement."

You tried to read Pedro's face, but he was unfazed. You didn't know if he was angry or disgusted with you. You sighed heavily and sat on the bed.

"What do you want to hear, Pedro? I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was a bitch who broke a good guy's heart."

Pedro shook his head and sat next to you. He grabbed your hand and his thumb began to make comforting circles on your skin.

"I just want to know why? What happened between you two? Is it my fault? Is it because of our arrangement?”

You looked at him surprised.

"How did you get that idea? Tyler doesn't know about us. He know we're just friends, so don't blame yourself." You rested your head on his shoulder. "It just freaked me out, you know... His whole family was there. It wasn't fair. Like he thought I was going to say 'yes' for sure if they were looking at me. We haven't even talked about it and he suddenly jumps out with ring. Who does that?"

Pedro put his arm around you and pulled you closer.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I just want you to be happy."

You had to bite your tongue not to reply, "I'm happy. Here and now, with you." Instead, you pulled away from him and smiled.

"Hey, I'm not here to cry. I want to party, dance, drink and hear all the cool stories from the set."

"You want to hear how everyone was looking for me while I was sleeping?"

You started laughing out loud.

"Why doesn't this surprise me? You're the best nap-mate."

*

You felt wonderful during the party. You completely forget about Tyler. Pedro's hands on your hips while dancing were enough to make you happy. Everyone was laughing and drinking. When it started to get colder, Pedro lit a fire and you all sat on blankets..

Pedro, of course, was sitting next to you and hugging you. Still, you were shaking.

"Do you want my sweatshirt? I can bring you one." he asked tenderly.

He's always taken such good care of you. You nodded, but before he got up, you yourself were on your feet.

"Wait, I'll go myself. I have to use the bathroom anyway."

"Okay, take which one you want."

You didn't even notice that Oscar was watching the two of you closely.

You used the bathroom and sat on the bed to look through Pedro's suitcase. You felt your phone slip out of your pocket, so you took it out and set it aside. Then you noticed the navy blue sweatshirt Pedro was wearing earlier. You put it on and smiled as you smelled his perfume. When you got back to the fire, you took your seat and started talking to the others. At three o'clock in the morning, everyone was tired and slowly began to return to their temporary homes. You were going to do it too, but not before Pedro hugged you and kissed your head.

"Goodnight, Sunshine."

"Night, Pedrito ."

You gave him one last hug and walked towards your beach house. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Oscar grab Pedro's elbow and pull him aside. You didn't care. They were very close and always had things to discuss.

You threw yourself on your bed with a big smile. You wanted to check your phone when you realized you left it in Pedro's house. You groaned and got up. However, when you were about to enter Pedro, you heard Oscar's voice through the ajar door.

"Dude, you're exaggerating."

"Leave me alone, I didn't do anything. You can see I don't have Y/N here."

You were about to leave when you realized they were talking about you.

Oscar sighed heavily.

"You were about to let it go. You said you'd distance yourself, and what are you doing... You stick to her like a horny teenager during the dance, and then... "You want my hoodie" How old are you?

Your heart was beating like crazy.

"It doesn't mean anything to her anyway and... I just wanted her to have fun and forget about Tyler."

Oscar snorted as if he didn't believe his friend's words at all.

"You have to stop it, Pedro. Loving Y/N is destroying you. You don't date other women. You don't start serious relationships..."

You wanted to keep listening, but Oscar moved closer to the entrance, and you were afraid he'd see you. Besides, you thought you'd heard enough. You decided to go back to your cottage and watch from the window when Oscar left Pedro.

The waiting was a nightmare. You jumped and squealed and bit your lip.

Pedro loved you!!! He loved you!!! You were so happy. You finally can told him the truth. Poor guy thought he meant nothing to you. You had to change it.

As soon as you saw that Oscar left Pedro's cottage, you ran to the mirror. You fixed your hair and makeup. You almost ran outside and in less than five minutes you were on the doorstep of the beach house. You knocked lightly and entered. Pedro was sitting on the bed looking tired. You giggled like a teenager.

"You are not sleep yet, old man?"

He lifted his head and looked at you surprised.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?"

You smiled at him and winked at him.

"I left my phone on your bed while I was getting your sweatshirt."

He turned around and when he saw your cell phone he nodded. You shifted restlessly from foot to foot. You couldn't wait any longer. Maybe it was the alcohol still coursing through your veins, but you just let it out.

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you Pedro, I..."

Pedro jumped to his feet and shook his head furiously.

"NO!"

You were surprised by the anger you saw in his eyes.

"You're drunk," he growled.

Now you felt angry.

"No more than you," you gasped. "I know what I'm saying and you don't have to hide it anymore. Don't get upset. I accidentally overheard what Oscar was saying."

"You obviously didn't hear everything Y/N. You didn't hear me tell him that I don't want to love you, that it's just a problem..."

You felt like someone had punched you in the face.

"I'm a problem?"

Pedro huffed in annoyance and ran a hand over his face.

"Not you. My love for you is the problem. I'm not in a place where I'm supposed to love someone. Maybe I never will be. You're younger and you live a quiet life with no paparazzi. Do you really want to ruin it all for some fleeting feeling?"

You clenched your hands into fists.

"I've loved you for a long time, you fool!"

"Stop! Why are you ruining everything?! Why did you have to love me back?!"

 You couldn't believe that the same Pedro who hugged you when you cried was standing in front of you. The same one who brought you coffee in bed and kissed you on the forehead when you fell asleep. A complete stranger was standing in front of you. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore.

Pedro, seeing this, suddenly regained his composure. He looked at you resignedly.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I never meant to make you cry, but... I really don't want to love you."

He took a step towards you, but you jumped back. You quickly ran to where you left your phone and shouted:

"Leave me! Never come near me again!!!”

Then you just ran out of his beach house and locked yourself in yours. For a while you wondered if Pedro would try to get to you, but apparently he took your words to heart. You cried all night, and in the morning you packed up and called a taxi. By the time everyone woke up, you were already halfway home.

 Only one person saw you leave. His brown and tear-filled eyes watched intently as you disappeared from his life on forever.

*

Up all night on another red-eye I wish we never learned to fly Maybe we should just try To tell ourselves a good lie Didn't mean to make you cry Maybe won't you take it back? Say you were tryna make me laugh And nothing has to change today You didn't mean to say "I love you" I love you and I don't want to, ooh

Billie Eilish- I love you (cover/ male version)

Part II

[genericpuff]

WTs behavior sure is... *something* to watch as a latecommer. you've covered it all better than I can articulate but damn does it ever haunt that they've essentially tripled-down on Rachel as the winning racehorse, someone who's historically been the most "go girl give us nothing" (if not worse than nothing) of all their past bigshots even w/o the trust in the show sinking lower and lower day by silent day.

It's not a profound remark but I stand in the on going scene like "This is it? Your plan?" as they keep digging. They desperately need something new to have breakout popularity, but they can't do that if they don't take in new blood, which they won't because new blood is a risk, etc. And so the scene is damned anew.

look, off the non-existent record that is my shitposting blog, as someone who just spent half an hour listening to their recent conference call with Goldman Sachs... in my very humble opinion, there is allegedly a metric FUCKTON of copium being huffed and I don't think the Goldman Sachs rep even realizes how much he's being talked down to. It's actually fucking hilarious. And I'm just a dweeb on the Internet, I shouldn't be sitting here picking up on the condescending vibes for what they are throughout a meeting that talks about shit like investment opportunities and quarterly returns and advertising metrics but... let's just say, WT's CFO David Lee's statement, "...proof will be in quarters I release, and I'm humbled by the reaction to my Q2 release which, again, I have to say, I thought I over delivered every single metric... but here we are, and I just have to continue to post results I guess to help educate all of you on the business I think we have" is even more passive aggressive to hear than it is to read, soooo here we are. Like, the chirpy tone in his voice just makes me think of this:

and yeah at this point they're beating the dead horse that is LO harder than the critical community is because even the critical community has largely moved on with their lives and only talk about it casually with other critical readers; meanwhile Webtoons is seriously over here trying to sell people on LO as if it's still 2021 and they're not years late to the party 💀 Even that quote I included in my last post saying that Rachel got started "4 or 5 years ago"... Lore Olympus launched in the Canvas section in 2017 and then as an Originals in March 2018. It's been longer than 4 years, Mr. Lee, and at this point the amount of time that's passed since selling its TV rights to Jim Henson Company will exceed the amount of time it took to even complete the comic in the first place 😭😆 The time to capitalize on LO's success was when it was successful, not 3-4 years after the fact.

[natrogersfics]

The Anthology - Chapter 5: imgonnagetyouback

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

“Think you’ll make it up to Ontario anytime soon?”

“Hopefully,” Steve says, catching the way his words cause a glimmer of hope to flash across Sharon’s face. “I know who my first call will be if I do.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sharon says, rising from the bar stool and leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Take care, Steve.”

“You too, Sharon.”

As Sharon disappears into the crowd, his eyes scan the room where the wrap party is still in full swing. Today marked the last of their double-digit hour workdays, and if the lively scene unfolding before him is any indication, it’s evident that he’s not alone in his relief to have those behind him. Over on the corner, the Russos and the stunt crew are huddled over a table playing what he can only guess is their nth round of Uno. Not too far away, Kevin stands in conversation with the wardrobe team, no doubt thanking and praising them for a job well done. And at the center of the dance floor, commandeering most of the attention in the room, Sam and Bucky trade dance moves to the delight of the crowd that’s gathered around them.

He shakes his head in amusement, feeling the warmth of gratitude permeate through him as he brings his beer bottle up to his lips to take a swig. He had spent more time with these people than he had with his own family over the last few months, witnessed them pour their blood, sweat, and tears to ensure their movie could be as successful as it could be. To now see everyone euphoric with joy and deservedly celebrating the fruits of their labor feels like nothing short of a gift.

Well, everyone except one, he realizes.

His gaze goes from one end of the room to the other in search of that ever familiar figure, and despite how trying their situation has been, he finds himself disappointed when he doesn’t find her. Maybe she didn’t come. In the last few weeks, she’s never spent a minute longer on set than she’s absolutely had to. It only made sense that she’d take the first opportunity to get away from all of this.

From you.

It’s with a sigh that he pushes off the bar, batting away the intrusive thought and making his way towards the door in search of some quiet. The air is humid against his skin as he walks out into the late summer’s night, the studio lot that’s never not buzzing with activity during the day proving to be a somber sight as it sits empty and lit only by the moon and the sparsely spaced streetlights.

He’s barely taken a breath when he sees it – the silhouette of someone perched on the steps leading to the sound stage, smoke billowing from the cigarette between their fingers. And whether it’s intuition or simply unbridled curiosity that has him walking towards it, he’s unsure.

“You said you’d quit that,” he says when he approaches to find Natasha seated by the bottom of the stairs, staring at nothing in particular.

“I said a lot of things,” Natasha says, the end of her cigarette glowing a bright orange as she brings it up to her lips.

“You did,” he says, watching the smoke waft into the air as she exhales. She finally looks up at him, and for the first time, he sees the way her cheeks are flushed with red and the glazed, faraway look in her eyes. He nods towards her feet. “How many of those have you had?”

Natasha looks down between her boots, to the empty crystal tumbler resting on the concrete, before lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “How’s Sharon?” she asks instead. Surprise must have flashed in his expression, prompting her to chuckle. “No need to be embarrassed.”

“Natasha-”

“She’s the better choice anyway.”

She’s in no condition to hash this out. Logically, he knows this. Nevertheless, something about the tone in her voice, particularly the bitterness that seeps into it, causes all the hurt and resentment he’s been trying desperately to hold in all these weeks to come rushing to the surface.

“You know what? No, you don’t get to do this! You can’t just cast me aside out of nowhere, and then throw yourself a pity party!” He stares at her, imploring her to show him something, anything to explain why she felt the need to plunge them both into this mutual hell they can’t seem to escape. Only she doesn’t respond, and defeatedly, he finds himself plopping down next to her on the stairs and taking the cigarette from between her fingers. “Goddamn it, Nat.”

The silence lingers between them, and it’s only when he takes a drag from the cigarette that he hears her giggle. He turns to her, raising a brow up in disbelief.

“Steve Rogers smoking,” she says, trying – and failing miserably – to contain her laughter. “What will the moral police say?”

He wants to shoot her a withering look, to chastise her because there’s nothing, absolutely nothing funny about this predicament they find themselves in. But as he takes in the amusement thick in her expression, for reasons beyond his comprehension, he feels his lips begin to twitch in a little smile, too. And before he knows it, they’re both breaking out in laughter.

None of it made sense. Her actions have brought him nothing but torment these last few weeks, and yet, as their laughter tapers later on, all he wants in this moment is to take her in his arms. He sighs. “Why’d you walk away?”

For a moment, she only holds his gaze, and for the first time since he woke up to an empty bed that fateful morning, it’s as though her mask comes off and he sees her – his Natasha – not the stranger he’s been watching from a distance all these weeks. And if he easily recognizes the internal battle raging in her eyes, it’s only because he, too, has been contending with it.

“Because it doesn’t matter if I’m your costar, friend, or the one you want to come home to,” she whispers eventually. “You’re you, and I’m me. And so long as I’m in the equation…” She shakes her head, her lips curling into a smile that’s painfully rueful. “Pick your poison, babe, I’m poison either way.”

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

[industryhbo]

the writing on hacks season 3 (and the whole show) is so good okay and here's why.

the main theme of the show is older and younger generations learning from each other, which is demonstrated mainly through ava and deborah. it started off with ava learning to respect deb's work and her career and understand all the obstacles she faced. this leads to deborah learning from ava: she learns that her story matters, and that by sharing it, she can connect with people and elevate her comedy like never before, which shapes the main plot of the show.

of course, deb also learns from ava about how to treat others. ava is always bringing up social equity, saving the environment and other political issues. a lot of it is trivial and played for comedy -- but now in episode 8, it has become CRUCIAL to deb's career and ultimately has a fantastic payoff.

further credit to the writing, deb's growth is not a straightforward benefit. it realistically portrays the messy and uncertain process of learning and putting your beliefs into action. from what ava has taught her, deb gets frustrated and "blames" ava for making her want more for herself, because learning is an uncomfortable process and hacks has never shied away from that. also, deb abandons the party with her comedy icons because she chose to stand up for ava instead (which hasn't had an immediate material effect on her career, but shows a very realistic conflict between peers, deb making that difficult decision, and ultimately she is the one who achieves higher success and is rewarded for her growth).

of course deb has a lot of people around her who have similar influences on her. dj and marcus and jimmy all have their shining moments where they also push deborah to reflect on herself and help her to grow. another credit to the writing to include so many nuanced relationships that all contribute something special!

but throughout this season they've really demonstrated why ava is so essential to the show. they told us explicitly at the start of season 3 that no one else has a relationship with deb like ava does, and it extends far beyond fashion advice. ava is the central relationship that has the greatest effect on deb's career because they are peers, and they have both put in the work to understand each other and collaborate. and it's ava's gen z qualities, her brash, entitled, unfiltered personality that facilitates the all of the great fights, confrontations, and discussions that have led to deb's growth.

and now, deb has FINALLY gotten her late night show, and it happened because ava convinced her to apologize. it's because of the dynamic that has been building since s1e1--ava calling out deb's bigotry, the feedback loop of them understanding each other's perspectives and growing into better people and better comedians because of it. that dynamic is the direct catalyst of deb's lifelong dream coming true.

we have had similar victories every season, with ava convincing deb to change for herself. ava helped deb write her special, and transformed her career by convincing her to share her story, and listened when deb started opening up in the first place, and was there all along to cheer on the vast untapped potential of a wounded woman using comedy as a mask, to help her evolve, and learn to use to her work to reconcile and heal.

in season 3, things are a little different. deb has to answer to others. she must face up to some real mistakes she's made, and all the little moments of ava correcting deb's language and questioning her actions, that always seemed like a petty annoyance before--now these very issues are the final test that will decide deb's fate.

when the world starts attacking her jokes, of course deb's strongest instinct is to defend herself, as she's had to do now for years and years and years. she's spent all this time building her career all by herself, one joke after the next, and if she spent one second in weakness or second-guessing, she would've been crushed. for deb, defending her career is her deepest, longest-held conviction, and going against that is REAL change. the question is, can deb handle it at this level? can she drop that defense? can she put respect for other people before herself? can she humble herself, admit she was wrong, and apologize?

with ava's help, she can. and for that, she wins.

[wealllovemilo64]

Needy drunk! Part 4 Jotaro?

Jotaro and reader are coworkers, and they had a celebration party for the success of an experiment with the department and all.

Now, here, jotaro is divorced and has a share custody with his ex wife about jolyne.. And the reader, a newcomer whos maybe 2-3 years younger (male), somehow piqued his interest. Maybe how the reader talks to him in a gentle caring voice, how he would comfort him if he notices jotaro upset more than usual, or always being by his side. Regardless he was needy and head over heels over reader, despite his stoic disinterested, and rude manner towards him. Yet you still stayed with him.

And during this party. Jotaro drank a bit too much alcohol, and got a bit drunk...which is unusual. Jotaro doesn't get drunk easily but the alcohol is quite strong. His brows furrowed and unshed little tears beside his eyes with a blush on his face. How cute.

Because of the alcohol and the years of loneliness, just feeling your touch and gentle voice asking him if he's okay already sends jotaro to a loophole of neediness, pawing at your clothes, begging for you. (guess he was THAT touched starved.)

Surprised nonetheless,you granted his wish. .. A few moments later, at one of the bathroom stalls of the department, there is a certain someone blowing jotaro's back, pounding onto him from the back and your dick touching all of his sweet spot. Jotaro was feeling immense pleasure, heightened sensitivity all thanks to the alcohol. Evident by the tears running down his face, his mouth apart. Holding the walls for dear life as you kept on pounding him, hat, pants, coat.. All gone. He was vulnerable and naked under you.

Jotaro was pretty, that was the reader's opinion when he first met jotaro. He was glad he worked beside him. And seeing jotaro moaning and crying about how much he loves him, how many times he was jerking off to him, how he feels. You were glad *VERY* glad, being able to see jotaro in this position is heavenly and you were enjoying every second of it.

(Sorry if this is a bit long.. And if you could, please turn this into a fanfic or a scenario is fine too :) ...and if you accept anons, may i please be ⁉️ anon?)

OMGGGG! THIS IS THE BEST THING I’VE EVER READ! (i’m so happy i got a new anon, hearts for u ⁉️ anon 🫶🏾)

I hope you don’t mind that i turned it into a fan fiction!

———————————————————

Needy!Sub!Drunk Part 4 Jotaro x Dom Male Reader

Content: Alcohol use, Anal Penetration, Semi-Public sex, Sex while under the influence, Crying (Jotaro), Creampie, Hickeys/Bites, Office Job AU, More Modern AU (Laptops and phones)

———————————————————

It was late at night and Jotaro was sitting in his cubicle, typing away on his laptop like normal. The bags under his eyes were dark and deep, from all the stress he was dealing with and the constant workload that was on him. It wasn’t easy being a divorced single dad with a daughter who usually wanted to be with his ex wife and not him. He had no one to turn to for comfort, no one he could talk to in such trying times. That is, until you came along. You always went out of your way to be kind and caring with him, which made his stomach flutter. You would peer over your cubicle into his, making funny faces and distracting him from his work on his laptop. He always felt like he could genuinely smile when he was around you.

You two were both working the late shift one night, until Jotaro got a phone call. He picked up the phone, only to be met with the angry voice of his wife like usual. She was calling to beat him down with words once again, to tell him how he wasn’t doing his part for Jolyne and stuff like that. He felt so exhausted, but he listened just in case something had happened to Jolyne. After she was done she hung up herself, and Jotaro slowly set his phone down. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you had inadvertently heard the whole conversation. You slowly rose from your swivel chair and walked around to Jotaro’s cubicle, placing a gentle hand on his back.

“Hey..you okay?”

Jotaro stayed silent and only gave a nod in response, to which you responded by getting down on your knees in front of him. Tucking a piece of hair behind his ear as you gave him a genuine, gentle look.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? You don’t have to pour your whole life story out to me, but whatever’s on your mind you can talk to me about if you need to.”

Your words made Jotaro feel warm inside, but he looked down at his lap so it wouldn’t show on his face. He nodded, trying to keep a level head as he muttered out a sentence.

“Thank you..it means a lot, [Y/N].”

You smiled, about to respond to him before a couple of your other coworkers burst through the door. All triumphant as they jumped around and laughed together. You immediately rose to your feet, confused on what was happening. Jotaro rose as well and you both went over to them.

“What’s going on?”

You asked. One of your coworkers responded to you with a smile.

“It worked! The experiment was a success!”

The rest of your coworkers continued to jump around and celebrate with each other as you and Jotaro were visibly surprised.

“We’re celebrating at the bar down the street, cmon!”

One of them said before they all hurried out of the room and began leaving the office. You got visibly excited as you turned to Jotaro.

“Did you hear that? We get to party!”

Jotaro saw your excitement as he too was excited as well, though it didn’t show on his face. He smiled at your happy face, almost getting lost in just staring at you since he admired how you looked when you were happy. You didn’t wait for his response before you started pulling him out of the office and down to the bar. Once you two got in, you and Jotaro went to sit at the bar. You both ordered some drinks, just chatting about how exciting the new advancement for the department was and other small things. It wasn’t long before Jotaro was wasted, he only had 2 drinks but the alcohol was rather strong. You however, had hardly finished your first glass so you were still pretty sober. You laugh at Jotaro’s drunk state, it was funny how he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence as his words slurred together. You stopped laughing as you watched Jotaro lean forward and grab at your shirt, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

“W-*hiccup*..w-want youuuuusss..”

You were surprised at his sudden touchy behavior, to which you blushed and gently pushed him back.

“Jotaro, we’re in public-“

Jotaro wasn’t listening to a word you said as he leaned forward and started trying to kiss you. You sighed as you got down from the stool and slung Jotaro’s arm over your shoulder, starting to walk to the bathroom with him. You pulled him into a stall and locked the door before you pressed him up against the wall, connecting your lips before he had a chance to say anything. Jotaro messily kissed you back, the taste of alcohol mixing in both of your mouths as your tongues clashed together. Jotaro was already beginning to undo your shirt as you made out, breaking away for just a brief moment to pull it over your head. You did the same to his shirt and you went back to kissing, until both of you were completely naked. You pulled away from the kiss, watching the string of saliva between you two before you turned Jotaro around and bent him over. He gripped onto whatever he could, though the wall was really his only option. You were about to prep him before he stopped you.

“A-..already..*hiccup*..loooose..”

Jotaro turned his head to the side, a very obvious blush tinting his cheekbones as he looked at you from the corner of his eye. You were surprised, realizing that Jotaro had been playing with himself at some point and was already loosened up. You smirked, leaning down close to his ear as you whispered against it.

“Were you touching yourself to the thought of me, Jotaro..~?”

Jotaro had sobered up a bit more now, actually able to hear what you were saying now. Giving a slow nod to your voice as his blush only grew darker. You chuckled at the sight, hoping that you were the only person who would ever be able to see him in such a vulnerable state. You didn’t waste anymore time as you spread Jotaro’s ass cheeks with your hands, starting to insert your already erected cock. Jotaro let out a surprised gasp as only the tip had entered, visibly oversensitive from the effects of the alcohol. You were eager to be inside of him already but you were heavily holding back since you didn’t want to tear his ass. You definitely weren’t small and it wasn’t easy to get inside Jotaro’s hole even though it was loosened up. Jotaro cupped a hand over his mouth, trying to contain his moans as he finally felt your cock make its way all the way inside of him. He could feel the tip already throbbing against his prostate as you let him have a second to adjust. He nodded, giving you the go ahead to start moving. You pulled out a little bit before starting up a somewhat slow pace, but you were being a bit hard with your thrusts. Jotaro let out loud moans and whimpers into his hand, the other gripping the wall tightly. You gritted your teeth together as you let out some grunts yourself, Jotaro’s hole was so tight and wet, not to mention he clenched around you like a fucking vice. It wasn’t long before you were thrusting in at a harsh pace, hitting his prostate just right. Jotaro was definitely sober now, his hand falling from his mouth as he failed to contain his moans. The feeling of you driving against his g-spot made his eyes roll into the back of his head. You loved this sight of Jotaro, taking a mental picture in your mind that you would save forever. The tears streaming down Jotaro’s red cheeks was something you would never ever forget. You couldn’t help but lean down and leave some marks on his shoulders and all down his back and his neck, just to ensure he was yours and yours only. All Jotaro could think of was you and how you were absolutely destroying him. He cried out your name, loud moans and whimpers cutting off his sentence as he blabbered on about how much he loved you and wanted you so badly.

“F-..Fuckkk, [Y/N]! I love you s-soooo..m-muchhh..!”

Jotaro’s words only urged you on to keep pounding him into nothingness. Jotaro could feel his climax approaching, moaning out in slurs that he was close. You knew you were close too as you clenched his waist and slammed harder.

“Let’s cum together Jotaro..”

Jotaro nodded, his moans getting more frequent before white spurts of cum shot out of his erect cock and onto the floor. You finished off not too long after him, stuffing him full to the brim with your seed as you let out a loud grunt. Jotaro panted heavily, trying to recollect himself as you leaned down and peppered kisses along the side of his face and his neck. Grazing over the previous marks you left while you were fucking him as you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him from behind.

“I love you too, Jotaro..so so so much.”

[bearsintreesofficial]

hello! if you're reading this then, hear me out for just a moment.

hello a second time. we are a band from south london called bears in trees. we sound a bit like the kids at school who were late to class because they'd found a cool rock in the field next to the playground they simply couldn't stay away from.

we write songs about platonic love, eating concrete, and understanding the anxieties your mother felt. our general motto is to write introspective music to party and/or cry to. it's been a pretty successful vibe so far. we call ourselves a dirtbag boyband but only 3 of us identify as boys; so the boyband part is in essence, not gender.

i'm writing this post because we just announced our newest ep. it's called every moonbeam every feverdream, and it's about finding peace in the everyday rhythm of your life, the sun exploding, and feeling like you don't have a body. we just released the first single from it too - that’s called kind love, and you can listen to it here.

we grew up on tumblr, and it’s always been a second home to us. if you’re still reading this here in 2022 i’m guessing you feel the same so! there’s common ground. we’re signed to an independent label in the usa and up until last year we did everything ourselves so, as weird as advertising is we much prefer doing it in the spaces we understand and value. this is, to be blunt, an advertisement we hope will get you to listen to our band. it would mean a lot to our 15 year old fandom blogs if you did.

if you have listened, already like us, or just want to signal boost our lil’ band, reblogging this goes a long way. then, even if you don’t vibe with our music (which is absolutely fine) maybe someone on your dash will. that would be equally as lovely.

thank you for reading. i hope you have a lovely whatever you were doing before you started reading this.

[thoughtlessarse]

In July, a long-running Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in State and Faith-based Care released its shocking finding that between 1950 and 2019 up to 256,000 people in facilities including boarding schools, youth justice centres, foster care and psychiatric hospitals, were the victims of abuse and neglect. This is more than one in three of the estimated 655,000 people who were institutionalised during this period. The inquiry was launched by the previous Labour Party-led government in late 2018 following many years of demands and petitions for justice from survivors of abuse. Its final report, based on testimony from nearly 3,000 survivors, and more than a million documents, reveals criminal actions carried out on a vast scale by state agencies and churches, with devastating consequences. The number of victims equates to more than 5 percent of New Zealand’s current population of 5 million people. The royal commissioners—Judge Carol Shaw, Dr Andrew Erueti and Paul Gibson—describe their findings as “a national disgrace.” They note: “These gross violations occurred at the same time as Aotearoa New Zealand was promoting itself, internationally and domestically, as a bastion of human rights and as a safe, fair country in which to grow up as a child in a loving family.” In fact, the widespread, routine and prolonged abuse, in many cases amounting to torture, is an unanswerable indictment of capitalism. The brutal conditions documented by the royal commission are inseparable from the decades-long assault on workers’ wages and living standards and the gutting of social services, in order to transfer more wealth to big business and the rich. This has been accompanied by racist scapegoating of Māori and other minorities, and the promotion of militarism and “tough on crime” policies by successive Labour and National Party governments. Hundreds of thousands of children from impoverished families, and people suffering mental and physical disabilities, were deemed unproductive and a burden on society, and effectively thrown on the scrap-heap. The 3,000-page report details the appalling suffering endured by generations of young people, including:

continue reading

Bet you can't guess who was overrepresented in those hundreds of thousands. Of course, you can. Like every other WASP settler colony, it was the indigenous people, in this case the Māori.

[certifiedstarrr]

After Party | Pt. 2 | ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* | Chris Sturniolo

P1

warnings: swearing, alcohol, mentions of drugs, and smut.

if you don't like smut, find smth else to do.

she/her pronouns will be used!!

pink = y/n

green = lia

blue = matt

orange = chris

purple = nick

Word Count: 710

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧

**NOT PROOFREAD**

b/n: sorry if this sucks ass, first fanfic ive ever written.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧

"Yes the fuck we are."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ:

The time reads 10:52pm. My hair is done, makeup is too, and my dress is on.

To Lia:

you otw??

read 10:53pm

From Lia:

yes im coming down ur block rn

read 10:53pm

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ:

I see Lia's car, plan is in action. First, I take off my heels and I place them in my hand, I open my window, I breathe out. I'm ready. I've got this.

I've climbed down my tree and I'm walking over to Lia's car, on the way over I start putting back on my heels.

"Plan success!"

"Yesss thanks so much Lia"

"Anything for you girl"

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･✧･

We arrive at Noah's house a couple minutes late but people were still walking through much later anyway. The beer pong, bottles upon bottles of alcohol, and people sucking eachother's faces off; typical house party. But in the corner of the living room I see people that I never thought I'd see ever again. The. Fucking. Sturniolos.

I saw him and his brothers talking to somebody. Lia went to go talk to somebody who she thought was cute or some shit. And so I was now left alone.

Well I'd atleast want to be drunk so I won't remember any of the fucking feelings and emotions or regret shit. I grab a half-empty bottle of beer and down it, it plunges down my throat and it feels freshening.

We used to live in the same neighborhood when we were little. I was closer with Matt and Nick, but never with Chris; in fact we were always arguing, fighting; we hated eachother. I was extremely sad when they moved away, emotions mostly for Matt and Nick though. I cried for days on-end, not wanting to go to school without them.

When I caught eye contact with Nick it was like getting the top item on your Christmas list. The way his face lit up was like seeing him as a little kid again, and his smile deserved everything in the world. I went over to him hugging him tight and even letting a silent tear fall out of happiness.

"Oh my god y/n! How are you?"

"I'm doing fine, how about you?"

"I'm good, but it's been so long."

"You know, when you guys moved away I cried on-end. I never wanted to go to school without you guys."

"Me neither, I begged my mom and dad not to go anywhere."

As soon as Matt noticed that Nick was gone and looked over his face also lit up with joy, just like when he was little. I also hugged him tight.

"Y/n! How are you it's like I thought I'd never see you again"

"I'm doing great Matt, what about you?"

"You know I've doing great, after we moved away I gave my parents the silent treatment for days."

"Ha, guess we all didn't like your parents after that."

"Guessing not."

Chris walked over to us and shot me a look. Forget him and his attitude y/n. I thought to myself.

"Long time no-see Chris."

"Yeah whatever."

"Okay don't be a asshole Chris."

"It's literally been almost 10 years Chris and you still can't greet her correctly or nicely?"

"Guys it's fine. Just let him be."

✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:

We talked for a good while and I introduced Lia to them, they seemed to be fond of eachother.

At this point I was extremely drunk and I couldn't remember a single thing. But I last thing remember was drinking bottles of alcohol.

✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:

I woke up in a bed that wasn't mine. Was I in some random guy's bed? Or did I have sex with somebody I didn't know.

Well atleast I didn't remember anything. Right?

✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:

a/n: just ask to be on the taglist!! and my reqs are always open!

@lovingmattysposts

[aishangotome]

Elbert Greetia: Chapter 9

Chapter 8 His POV

♡———♡

Several days had already passed since we made contact with the organization disguised as "Bernal Trading Company."

Harrison: El. Are you only going to eat that much again?

Elbert: ......? Yeah, that's right.

Roger: It makes me dizzy just watching you.

Liam: But, El, you've been eating more than you used to lately, right?

Elbert: ...... I guess so.

Master Elbert carries the lemon salad on his plate to his mouth with beautiful manners.

"It seems Lord Elbert likes citrus fruits too," I secretly wrote in my memo again today.

(The memo I kept for my work as a Fairytale Keeper has grown quite a bit.)

Most of it was about Lord Elbert.

Of course, it's partly because we spend a lot of time together, but I was also aware that I often followed him with my eyes.

(But...)

*flashback*

Alfons: Anyway, it's wise to keep your distance. Before you get stuck in the mud and can't get out.

Alfons: Let me warn you that the more you wish for his happiness, the more El will try to hurt himself.

*flashback over*

Alfons' words that I heard at that time remain in the corner of my mind.

(What kind of sin is Lord Elbert atoning for...?)

William: By the way, Elbert. Is there any progress on the "personal" deal with the art dealer?

Elbert: .....

For a moment, tension runs through Lord Elbert's expression.

(A personal deal with an art dealer...)

*flashback*

Elegant Art Dealer: You've been a great help. I'd like to give you this painting.

Elegant Art Dealer: And... ––

Elbert: –- ... Yes, please.

-

Kate: What are you talking about with him now?

Elbert: Ah... I was offered a personal deal.

Alfons: I'm sure his intention is to make El, who has an eye for beautiful things, a regular customer.

Alfons: If that art dealer is a member of the organization, the mission is a great success. Congratulations.

*flashback over*

(It's the deal that was offered at that time.)

Elbert: I just got a letter yesterday...

Elbert: He's asking me if we can make a deal at my mansion in my territory.

(Lord Elbert's mansion in his territory...? )

(I see, Lord Elbert is an earl, so... he has a territory.)

William: I see, they don't want to show their hand either.

William: They want to check your "collector" qualifications before inviting you into their territory.

William: In the place where you were born and raised.

Elbert: .............

Lord Elbert, who was eating, completely stops.

His expression quickly clouded over.

(Is there something he's worried about...?)

I remember the same thing happening at the party venue.

(At that time, his expression gradually sank.)

(The reason must be ––)

*flashback*

Elderly Gentleman: As I thought, there is no one in this world more beautiful than you.

Lady with Green Eyes: Elbert, let me see you too. ...Well, aren't you a little sleep deprived?

Elbert: ......... I'm fine.

Lady with White Hair: Really? Aren't you scared enough to not be able to sleep? I'll sing you a lullaby again.

Elbert: ......... Thank you.

*flashback over*

(... He has the same expression as when he was going home.)

There's something in Lord Elbert's mansion that hurts him ––.

Such unpleasant imaginations spring up on their own and won't stop.

(This is just an arbitrary guess... There might be some other reason.)

(But... whatever the reason, if it makes him look like this)

(... I want to be by his side.)

William: Kate.

Kate: Yes, what is it?

William: You should go with Elbert to the deal at his mansion.

Elbert: ................

Kate: Me too... to the deal?

(That is... if I can be by his side and watch over him, I would be happy, but)

Kate: Is that alright? Wouldn't it be suspicious if a stranger suddenly intruded...?

Kate: To begin with, how much do the people at the mansion know?

Elbert: ...... They don't know about Crown or the curse.

William: The servants at the mansion only know that Elbert is working on a project related to the palace.

William: It wouldn't be strange for him to have a secretary-like person by his side.

William: The art dealer must have seen you accompanying Elbert at the party.

William: Even if you attend the deal, it won't be suspicious.

William: Oh, I forgot to ask you something important.

William: ...... What do you want to do?

William smiles as if seeing through my heart.

(Maybe he saw through my worry about Lord Elbert.)

I straightened my back and sat back down in my chair.

Kate: I would like to go with you if I can.

William: I see. Elbert, what do you want to do?

Elbert: ......... No.

Master Elbert's lips seemed to be about to say "no" ––

Kate: Please, Lord Elbert.

Elbert: .............

I unintentionally interrupted his answer.

(I'm sure now. There is something in the mansion that makes him sad.)

(Because whenever Lord Elbert tries to keep me away from something... it's always been like that.)

(If that's the case, I want to be by his side even more.)

Elbert: ......... Alright.

Kind Lord Elbert did not refuse my request.

William: Then, it's decided. And in Elbert's mansion, the topics of "Crown" and "curse" are forbidden.

William: Be careful not to accidentally reveal any secrets.

Kate: Yes, of course.

(I'm sure his family is also at the mansion, right...? I wonder if his family also doesn't know about Lord Elbert's curse.)

I was a little curious, but it might be rude to pry.

Without asking any further questions, I finished my breakfast and left my seat.

-

––After Kate left her seat and some time passed.

Before long, only William and Alfons were left in the dining room.

Alfons, still leaning against the table with his cheek in his hand, is looking in the direction Kate and the others left.

William: It seems like you have something to say.

Alfons: To instigate her like that...

Alfons: I don't know what to say if something happens to Kate before the promised month is over.

The languid tone of his voice betrayed no emotion.

William glanced sideways at Alfons as if to gauge his true intentions, then laughed magnanimously.

William: "Whether it works out" or not depends on Elbert and Kate's will.

William: I just gave them a little push.

Alfons: It's the first time I've heard you're so obsessed with El.

William: …… I've been worried about him for a long time. Elbert, drifting in the shallows.

William: Whether he wants to sink to the bottom or crawl up to the shore. Which is his... true desire?

William: I want to see him fulfill his wishes. Whichever it may be.

William: And I'm hoping Kate will help him find the answer.

As if looking forward to the end of a story––

William's eyes held such anticipation and excitement.

Alfons: …… You're quite the villain, aren't you?

William: Ah ha ha, you're telling me.

-

And the next day––

I visited Elbert's mansion with Elbert and Alfons.

(This is Elbert's mansion)

Belying its majestic exterior, the interior of the mansion was meticulously maintained and stunningly beautiful.

(But, even though it's so beautiful... It feels so cold)

Elbert: ...........

Elbert didn't say a word, neither during the carriage ride nor after entering the mansion. It was the same even when he was greeted by a line of servants.

Man who seems to be a butler: Welcome back, Lord Elbert, Lord Alfons. …… You must be Lady Kate.

A stern-looking man with slicked-back hair bowed politely, leading the other servants.

Jeffrey: I am Jeffrey, the butler. …… It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Kate: Nice to meet you, my name is Kate. Please treat me well.

I give a nervous bow to Jeffrey, who greeted me politely.

Then, Jeffrey introduced me to several butlers and maids.

(I wonder if his family is here... Are they out or something...? )

Perhaps because it's been a long time since he's been back, Elbert is being greeted by everyone with a reserved yet warm atmosphere.

Young Butler: We have been awaiting your return, Lord Elbert.

Steward of the Elder: I understand you have returned this time for business... but we are very happy to have you back.

Maid with Glasses: How would you like to spend your time before work? Please do not hesitate to ask us for anything.

Elbert: ... Please treat her with the utmost courtesy, so that she is not inconvenienced.

Elbert: Other than that... nothing.

The way they surround Elbert looks very heartwarming.

But I notice that Elbert hasn't smiled once.

(Maybe he's nervous because it's been a while...)

Elbert: .............

Elbert: ... I'm sorry, but I'd like to be alone.

My ears pick up Elbert's trembling voice.

("Alone"...? )

Jeffrey: Don't say that. Everyone has missed you so much.

Elbert: ............

(I don't know how long it's been since Elbert came back here)

(But the art dealer isn't coming until tomorrow, so he must be staying for a while...)

Kate: Would you like to rest for a bit and then talk again?

Elbert turned around to look at me when I spontaneously spoke to him.

Elbert: .............

(...? Why does he look surprised?)

––Is it just my imagination that I have a bad feeling about this?

-

The butlers and maids continue to smile, even in the face of Elbert's plea.

Elbert: ... Please, would you step aside?

A light sheen of sweat seems to be forming on Elbert's forehead.

(... Sweating even though it's not hot?)

Elbert isn't trembling, but I feel as if he's afraid of something.

The bad feeling I had before leaving the castle wells up in my chest again.

(What on earth is... making him look like that?)

Jeffrey: ... Everyone, that's enough. It seems he really isn't feeling well.

At Jeffrey's command, the servants reluctantly step back.

Jeffrey: While Lord Elbert rests, Kate, please relax in the guest room.

Jeffrey: Alfons, please go to your room as well. We will bring you a change of clothes and a drink later.

Alfons: Ah, don't worry about me, as usual. I'll be wandering around as I please.

Jeffrey: ... Very well. Then, Kate, this maid will show you the way.

Kate: Ah... yes. Lord Elbert...

(He said he wanted to be alone)

(But is it really okay to leave him alone?)

Elbert meets my gaze and smiles.

Elbert: I'm going to rest in my room for a bit too... So please, relax.

Elbert: I don't think there's anything particularly interesting here... but you're welcome to do as you please in the mansion.

His calm tone of voice only makes me more anxious.

(It seems like he's forcing himself to act this way so as not to worry me.)

Kate: ... Thank you. I'll see you later then.

Maid with Glasses: This way, Kate. Please watch your step.

Led by the maid, I leave the drawing room.

Jeffrey: Lord Elbert, your room is ready. Please rest well first.

Elbert: ... Okay. Thank you.

The faint conversation I hear from behind me is cut off by the door.

-

Kate: ... Are he alright, Alfons?

Alfons: ...............

When I ask Alfons, who left the room with me, in a whisper, he gives me an unusually silent response.

Kate: ... Alfons?

Alfons: Whether you look or not is your choice. I wouldn't recommend it, though.

Kate: Huh...?

(Look... at what?)

Alfons: Fortunately or unfortunately, there is no "master" in this house to reprimand guests for wandering around as they please.

Alfons lets out a chuckle and walks ahead of me.

Alfons: I've told you time and again that it's better for you not to get too involved.

Alfons: I won't tell you again---you have been warned.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 10

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[odditycircus-2002]

Baraka and Medusa!Reader Headcannons

A/N: For some reason, when I check out the tag for Barakaxreader, there are a lot of dancing headcannons. Which I thought was odd, but then I thought "Oh Beauty and the Beast opportunity," And decided to write this this headcannon. So Happy Thanksgiving and don't forget about the people who suffer to this day. Never forget.

You and Baraka got the idea of throwing a feast of Thanks from Johnny Cage's invitation for an Earthrealm holiday. This feast came to fruition because Baraka didn't want to risk infecting any of Mr. Cage's guests and you wanted to raise the Tarkatan Colony's spirits.

You were able to request some extra supplies ahead of time from Empress Mileena, including alcohol in preparation. Baraka was in charge of preparing the meals for this feast along with some other able-bodied Tarkatans. Preparing food for all of the species who now reside in the colony. You asked many of your patients, including Shokan, Zaterran, and Naknadan, to pitch in to mix in their culture's traditions, including food, games, and events.

Although you helped to plan the entire event, you spent half of your time at Johnny's party so you could meet up with Mileena, Kitana, and Syzoth again. You opted for a mask that only covered half your face, leaving your mouth exposed for easier access to food. You made sure to act as a polite guest by gift Johnny a freshly caught beast native to the Wastes, as you heard from Kitana it's Earthrealm custom to bring food for this holiday.

"Well, talk about fresh... thanks, I guess."

"Its meat pairs well with a nice heavy dose of citrusy seasoning and roasted evenly."

You found yourself enjoying Johnny's party, with you and Syzoth often secretly picking away pieces of a bug-related dish Ashrah originally made for the Zaterran before the feast could officially start. It turns out that you rival Kung Lao in terms of how much you can stuff your face granted he can't widen his jaw to fit everything on his plate all at once. You also enjoyed some of the Earthrealm board games, although you constantly questioned the rules for how ridiculous they seemed. When you eventually departed, you made sure to take a heaping amount of leftovers to share with the colony.

You and Baraka could safely say this Feast was a successful idea despite the expected hiccups, including scheduling conflicts that led to an all-out brawl between a Shokan and Naknadan. Baraka and a few others had to assist you with some of those conflicts.

While the rest of the Colony was enjoying the festivities, including some of the food you brought back from Earthrealm, you and Baraka were content with speaking with one another while occasionally pausing to eat. Sometimes, you separate to partake in some games or events.

Eventually, when the dancing portion of the events began, you decided to dance to it rather than just contently sway to the music. Of course, your first choice of a dance partner was Baraka. However, the afflicted Edenian initially politely rejects your offer. You frowned but then remembered how this dancing may remind him of the wife he once lost, so you didn't push him. Instead, you take on another dance partner with one of the Tarkatans you became close to.

For a while, Baraka just watched you dance the night away. You seemed to enjoy yourself as you moved from dance partner to dance partner. You even dance with a Tarkatan child at one point, a sight that especially causes Baraka's heart to ache. He can't help but think again of the family he lost to Tarkat and how he wishes they were here again. Yet, a thought enters his head, with a voice of reason sounding similar to his late wife.

'Why waste what little time you have left miserable?'

Baraka then turns his gaze towards you again as you're dancing with another Tarkatan and your snakes swaying to the music. Furrowing his brows, he decides he's done watching from the sidelines and makes his way towards the dance floor. When he catches your attention, he holds a hand and asks for the honor of dancing with you. Your other dancing partner pushes you towards Baraka in silent encouragement. You end up stumbling into Baraka's arms just as the song changes into something slower, more thoughtful, with an air of mystique.

"I'm glad you came around, wouldn't want you missing the fun."

"As am I, Y/N"

At first, your dance was awkward with Baraka, who hasn't danced in a very long time, and since you didn't often partake in it, eventually, it all comes rushing back to you and Baraka as you partake in a simple and graceful dance. You two become physically closer to one another as the song ends, until eventually, you're holding one another while swaying gently on the spot. While you can't directly look into each other's eyes, you can still convey your unspoken thoughts through touch alone.

Playlist while writing this:

"La Llorona" feat Alanna Ubach and Antonio Sol.

"Still Here" by Digital Daggers

"Secret of My Life" from the anime Kyousougiga