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litfiction · 3 months

Text

oneshot one four three ❤️‍🩹

pairing — paige bueckers x fem!reader

content & warnings — "four years of heavy hearts and unspoken words meet in the gampel pavilion parking lot, rehashing old wounds" , uhm just poorly written angst sorry...

word count: 1.9k , notes @ the end (i'm sorry for this)

[PRESENT DAY, 30 SECONDS AGO]

“I just wanted you to know.”

It’s been four years. Four years of pain you thought you numbed. You thought you numbed. Because now that wound in your heart you had tried so hard to ignore felt fresh all over again.

[4 YEARS AGO]

Maybe you should’ve seen it coming. Maybe you did see it coming. Doesn’t make reality hurt any less. That’s just the harsh truth. Paige’s life was changing, her future having so much in store for her. A future that you aren’t in.

She left for Connecticut two hours ago. Her last message to you was five minutes ago.

paige :) 9:13PM

Boarding now

I’m sorry

You blocked her number after staring at the message for another five. Childish, sure, but so was your hoping things would work out for you. Hoping long distance would work out. But Paige was barely out of state and look where you were now. A sick game it is, love. Not fit for childish hopes.

[PRESENT DAY, 2.5 HOURS AGO]

“Please! It’ll be fun I swear!” Your best friend begged. She’s been begging you to go with her to a UConn basketball game. You would but you got off a plane not even two hours ago and entry to the game venue was in less than one. But your best friend is nothing if not persistent and you relent to her continuous pleas.

Within 45 minutes you’ve showered, picked out an appropriate outfit, and done minimal makeup. You wanted to look at least a little more presentable.

Your best friend, Elsie, rushes you out to her car to drive you to the UConn campus from her apartment. She hops out of the car excitedly, telling you all about the friends that let her know about this game. You nod to the sound of her voice but you don’t pay attention to the words she’s saying.

This is a women’s basketball game. You don’t realize you’ve said that out loud until Elsie looks at you and says, “Duh,” with a weird expression on her face.

You don’t say anything but silently, you dread every step closer you take to the arena, knowing what (or who) you’ll probably be facing in a matter of minutes.

Elsie spots her UConn friends near the entrance to Gampel Pavilion and runs excitedly up to them, waving you over quickly when she notices you didn’t follow her. You walk behind the small group of girls quietly, having said minimal introductions. The place is already packed and buzzing with energy as soon as you step inside.

You follow the way to a registry table and then to your seats. It’ll still be a few minutes until the athletes come out so you take that precious time to calm your nerves. Elsie notices you breathing heavily and shaking your leg and sends you a concerned look. It snaps you back into a more normal state. You were probably worrying for nothing.

Except when the UConn Women’s Basketball team, or more specifically, a certain blonde on the team, emerges from the tunnels, the stands erupting in cheers, people clapping loudly next to you, it feels like the world stops to lend you that moment of time to feel everything again.

[4 YEARS AGO]

“You could’ve told me sooner.” Your voice was eerily quiet. It unsettled Paige only because she thought you’d be yelling at her. You wanted to, you wanted nothing more than to scream and yell at her but you couldn’t. The only display of emotion coming from your otherwise stoic face were the quiet falls of tears coming from your tired eyes.

“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“You let me hope, Paige. You let me hope like an idiot in love that you would choose to stay. Or at the very least, be willing to keep me in your life!” The last sentence rising in volume as you finally felt the anger take over.

She was committed to the University of Connecticut, a thousand miles away from where you currently were in Minnesota. That wasn’t the part that made you angry. You were angry that she had waited until months after she told you where she committed that she couldn’t do long distance.

Your chest burned and your throat constricted with all feelings of grief and anger. Bile rose faster than the words you wanted to scream at her, leaving you speechless.

Paige was quiet herself, too ashamed to say anything further. “I hope everything goes well for you in Connecticut.”

And then you walked out of her house, a red tinge in your eyes and an ugly feeling in your heart.

[PRESENT DAY, 2 HOURS AGO]

Paige ran out with that buzzed feeling running through her. It felt like her veins were electric currents. The crowds cheered loudly upon seeing her and she loved playing into it too much, her teammates smirking at her.

They announced the starting lineups and within a matter of minutes the first quarter to the game had begun with the tip-off.

The game felt good. Paige felt in her element and the the crowds felt energized. It was shaping up to be a great game for the Huskies. For Paige especially. She sank a good number of her three attempts, getting her teammates some assists, making most of her free throws.

By the fourth and final quarter, UConn was up by 11. Their momentum hadn’t slowed down and every player that got to play got a decent amount of points by the end making a decisive victory with the Huskies up by 18 points in the end.

Paige was on a high even after almost everyone had cleared out. She felt amazing, like she could do anything.

Fate has a funny way of testing her.

[PRESENT DAY, 30 MINUTES AGO]

The game ended well. You did enjoy watching (if you count out all the times your eyes drifted to Paige, which in your defense, is hard since she is kind of their star player, which was a lot of times so maybe you didn’t enjoy watching as much you thought) and maybe you’d watch another one (if even thinking about basketball didn’t bring back painful memories).

One of Elsie’s friends was still inside the venue talking with some other people and you were waiting outside for her since she needed a ride home. Elsie was just recapping all the moments she loved from the game and you did your best to agree and respond as enthusiastically. If she noticed you were forcing it, she didn’t say anything.

A door opens and you instinctively turn to where the sound came from. At first, you don’t register who walks out properly because of the canopy of darkness from the night sky.

Then your eyes meet hers and you both freeze. One could argue it’s from the chilly breeze but anyone with two, even one, functioning eyes would be able to tell something was off.

You turn back around quickly, trying to push Paige out of your mind which was much harder now that she was standing the closest she has to you in years. Your attempts are completely futile when you feel a presence behind you and Elsie is making a face at you to turn around.

Reluctantly, you do. And you think you can hear your heart crack like porcelain.

She looks good even in her tracksuit. She still has the same blonde hair and dark roots. The same piercing blue eyes. She still makes you feel the same things she did four years ago. Although now there are more painful undertones as you take her in.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, not accusatory, just in genuine question. It takes you a second to reply back, kind of in shock that she was talking to you again.

“I’m- I’m visiting my friend,” you point over your shoulder to Elsie who waves before turning to walk away, pretending to be on her phone. You’ve told her bits and pieces of your history with Paige but she’s never gotten the whole picture. Whether it was because “it wasn’t that serious” or it hurt too bad (it’s the latter), you’re sure Elsie’s probably figured out the answer herself by now

Paige nods. Neither of you say another word for a solid minute, just standing there quietly, looking at each other. Wondering if this is real life.

Paige isn’t even sure why or how she ended up here, she only vaguely remembers her feet carrying her over like there aren't four years and paragraphs of unspoken words between you two.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Paige’s hand instinctively reaches out to wipe the droplets away before stopping herself, knowing that that’s probably inappropriate to do now. Every fiber of your being wishes she didn’t because you’d have let. You’d have let her do whatever, no matter how reckless.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. It’s so faint you have to strain to hear it. “Why are you apologizing again?”

“Because I still don’t think I’ve said it enough. I really am sorry.”

You only sigh but add a nod along with it. “It’s okay.” Except it really isn’t. Somehow the pain is worse than the first time she said it. All you want at this moment is for the pain to stop. For Paige to not say anything further for fear it’ll only make it worse.

But she has a knack for doing the opposite of what you want.

“I’m not sure I should even be saying this, or even be here really, but I regret doing what I did to you. I regret it so much.”

“So why did you do it? Why’d you let me believe we could work it out? That you’d let me be there for you? I was willing, Paige.” Quiet sobs wracked your body, threatening to get louder as she stays silent again.

She’s crying now too. Paige contemplates what to say next, trying to gather her thoughts but that’s the thing about you, she’s never been able to think properly around you. So she blurts whatever response her brain conjures up.

“I was scared.”

“Scared? Scared of what?”

“Of the possibilities.” She’s quiet. You’re quiet. Dead silence falls between you two.

“You think I wasn’t too? I was so terrified of all the things that could go wrong. But I loved you enough to not care, even when you chose the possibility I was the most scared of.” Anger flooded your body again. This was so unfair.

“Everyday I wish it wasn’t the one I chose. But I got in my head and didn’t want to lose you while we were thousands of miles apart.” The “so I lost you while we were three feet apart” hangs in the air.

Nothing else comes out of your mouth. You’re too tired for this conversation.

[PRESENT DAY, 1 MINUTE AGO]

You thought when you walked away that day four years ago would be the worst pain you’ve ever felt. That turned out to be a lie as thirteen words fell from Paige’s lips.

She didn’t say anything else but as the final blow to your already worn out heart, she lets herself hold you in her arms, giving a light kiss to your temple before walking away to her car.

You sobbed dryly as she drove off, the last words she said to you ringing in your ears.

“I still love you. I never stopped. I just wanted you to know.”

🔖 — day two! chose a pretty vague prompt and went angsty with it. idk how to feel about this honestly i hope my angsty writing improves... lmk how you liked it! thank you sm for reading 🤍

#✮ litfiction #✮ c says #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #uconn x reader #uconn huskies #wcbb #angst #paige bueckers angst

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strawberrychampagneglass · 29 days

Text

Roses - pt. 1

Paige x Azzi

CW: cursing, implications of domestic violence (ONLY AT THE END), angst, maybe some fluff?, pining

9.3k words DAMN

A/N: holy shit guys I did not think I could pull this off and to think that this is gonna be a series is wild to me. Jokes aside, this took me about 2.5 weeks so expect (somewhat) infrequent updates due to school work and all that. Ik y'all have been waiting so I'll drop the first chapter. Something to be mindful of: initially this thing was in GSV then I changed it to LA last minute and then I changed Nika to Cam and Gabby to Dearica because Gabby and Nika didn't make sense to me at all so yea enjoy AND PLEASE DO GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I appreciate it a lot I WILL ADD A MASTERLIST WHEN MY HEART COMPELS ME TO

October 15th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

“Azzi,” her urgent voice calls out to the dark. She nearly trips over the entrance mat as she enters her apartment in the early morning hours. She drunkenly yells for her again as she stumbles towards her bedroom.

The only response she gets is an echo of her voice.

She lands in her bed with a soft thud, her hand searching for the familiar warmth of another body. When she feels the cold bed sheet under her hand instead, the only thing she can hear is the hammering inside of her head while her heart throbs, threatening to pry itself out of its cage. Tears well in her eyes as she falls asleep.

When she wakes up and checks her phone, she has one notification: a text message from Curt Miller. While it makes her heart palpitate as she remembers the happy memories, alarms blare in her head, reminding her of the bad that outweighed the good.

Her excitement quickly turns to bitterness. Paige doesn’t want to play on the same team as Azzi. Not after the incident in her redshirt senior year. Not after their catastrophic argument at the 2025 WNBA draft. Not after she saw a new person with her Azzi. Not after she saw the diamond-studded ring on her fourth finger.

Most of all, not after she built a stronghold with the most formidable defenses around her heart.

July 29th, 2018

Minsk, Belarus

The Belarusian crowd roars during the FIBA U17 Women’s Basketball World Cup final, drowning out the melody created by a screeching flute and deep, dulcet drum. With a very comfortable 32 point lead against the French in the middle of the fourth quarter, Paige is subbed out. She accepts the high-fives from her teammates before taking a seat at the end of the bench. Cheers flood the bench while they watch the clock wind down intently, waiting to relish in the intoxicating adrenaline following the victory.

The blonde raps her foot against the floor anxiously; her jaw propped up by her clenched fists. From the point of view of her teammates, she is engaged in the game. However, inside of her mind, a storm brews. She thinks of her best friend, the brunette girl with the number 6 on her back who is sat two seats to her left. Paige indulges in the memory of her fingers lingering on Azzi’s for that extra second after a high-five, their intertwined hands during the national anthem, and even when their shoulders brushed together in the team huddles and neither of them moved.

Her mind continues to wander until the bench unexpectedly explodes with chants of “USA” as the clock winds down into the last minute of the game. Paige springs from her seat on the bench, hollering as the adrenaline pumps through every vein in her body. When the final buzzer sounds, she shakes hands with the opposing team before hurling herself into the sea of navy jerseys.

The rest goes by in a blur, her adrenaline depletes rapidly. The energetic girl is uncharacteristically quiet during their team dinner and even on the bus ride home where she opts to sit alone in the back, leaning her head against the cool window that soothed her aching head.

As the bus pulls up to the hotel, Paige and Azzi lock eyes from opposing ends of the bus. The fatigue she once felt is quickly replaced with delight when Azzi gives her a tired smile with softened eyes, making her heart beat erratically. It’s still early in the evening, but the team agrees to celebrate in Cameron Brink’s room, without the coaches’ knowledge. While the team shuffles off the bus in a single-file line, Paige pushes through the never-ending hoard of her teammates until her eyes rest on a familiar brunette. She puts her hand on the brunette’s cold shoulder, catching her attention as she leaned into the warmth of Paige’s hand. Azzi chooses to ignore the pink that rose to the older girl’s cheeks and smiles at her.

“Are you going to Cam’s?” Paige asks sheepishly, trying to hide her smile. Azzi chuckles before responding with a nod.

“She is my roommate, so I guess I’m obligated to go.” Paige grins from ear-to-ear as they chat until they reach their respective hotel rooms. She changes into sweatpants and opts for a Hopkins Basketball hoodie. Although it's the middle of summer, the temperatures in Minsk are frigid compared to the Minnesota heat.

Furtively leaving her hotel room, she spots her teammate, Zia Cooke, attempting to sneak several bottles of cheap vodka into Cam’s room, her shoulders are tense and eyes rove across the empty hallway. Paige giggles before walking over to the shorter girl to offer a hand. When her teammate’s eyes land on her friendly face, the muscles in her shoulders loosen.

“Paige, thank god,” she breathes, relieved. “I was so scared that Carla or Stephen would jump out of their rooms.” Paige laughs at the image of Coach Berube catching Zia while looking like a deer in headlights, juggling 5 bottles of vodka. Feeling bad for her teammate, she takes three bottles from her arms and opens the door to Cam’s room. The two girls are met with 10 pairs of curious eyes who cheer at the sight of the vodka bottles.

***

An hour later, the potent odor of vodka floods the room. Most of her teammates gossip about their crushes back home; others watch the late-night shows on the Belarusian TV channels, a few are even snoring obnoxiously on Azzi’s bed. Paige, who is completely sober, feels irritated from her spot on the floor as she watches the dramatic show that is being projected on the TV. She isn’t sure if it was the lack of alcohol, or if it was the sight of her best friend who presses her body against Hailey Van Lith while an arm that wasn’t hers is strung around the brunette’s waist and resting on her toned abdominal muscles.

When Azzi notices the blonde’s glare at Hailey, she walks off the bed and carefully treads towards the table of alcohol, pouring a full glass of vodka. Her eyes flick to Paige, who stares at the glass of vodka in her hand. Unamused and frustrated, Paige returns her attention to the show on the TV until she feels a warm hand tilt her chin back. Azzi looks at her, emotionless, as she stands behind her. They stare at each other wordlessly before the older head lands on a soft, toned leg. Her lower lip meets the cool rim of the glass that Azzi filled with vodka.

The brunette moves her face closer before she tips the glass upward while noticing a light streak of red across Paige’s cheeks. “Drink,” she whispers, and Paige complies. She feels the alcohol burn her esophagus as she swallows the oily and bitter liquid. Their faces linger in the close proximity as they breathe in synchronization. It takes every ounce of self control in Paige’s body to not close the distance between their lips.

“You look pretty,” Paige smiles, hoping for a laugh and a friendly slap across the shoulder from her friend. Instead, Azzi returns a frown with furrowed eyebrows, moving her head away.

“Paige, I can’t enjoy my evening when you’re glaring at everyone I’m sitting with,” Azzi huffs with an edge to her voice. “Go get drunk and leave me alone.” Paige scowls; she knows that Azzi isn’t exclusive to her, but she wants some exclusivity. At the end of the day, they’re just best friends, nothing more. Nevertheless, the thought of another girl’s body pressing her body flush against Azzi infuriates her. From her spot on the floor, she feels the warmth of her friend’s body disappear as she walks back to her spot next to Hailey.

She grabs her wallet and phone and leaves the room.

***

When she returns to her hotel room hours later, she slams the newly-bought bottle of vodka on her nightstand, shaking the entire room. It isn’t a big bottle; it’s around the size of a Gatorade bottle. The cashier at the convenience store didn’t bother checking the 16-year-old’s ID, assuming she was of legal drinking age. She popped the cap off the bottle and brought it to her mouth. Her lips begin to form a suction around the opening as she tilts her head back, swallowing the searing liquid. She throws the rest of the liquid down her throat when the thought of Azzi’s words cross her mind. She tightens her grip on the bottle and her tongue scours for the last few drops of the liquid, hungry for the feeling of the alcohol. She sits on her bed in silence, staring at her feet until she feels the effects of the alcohol course through her veins. Her vision begins to blur and the entire room begins to swirl. Through her blurred vision, she still manages to identify the lamp that sits perfectly still on the nightstand. Her free hand reaches for the dangling chain that serves as a lever for the light. Giving it a slight tug, the light flickers briefly before illuminating the entire room. To her shock, a familiar brunette girl with bronze skin sits across from her.

“Are you done being an alcoholic so we can talk?”

“Azzi, what the fuck?” the blonde stammers, frustrated. She sets the bottle down and stares at her friend in disbelief. When Paige gets no response from her, she stands up and starts stumbling towards the door, nearly tripping over herself.

“Paige, wait,” Azzi catches the blonde, observing the older girl’s cloudy eyes. Even while drunk, her blue eyes remind her of her lake house; her second home. The thought makes her heart flutter despite the agonized look painted across her best friend’s entire face. “I’m sorry, we can talk about this if you want. I know I hurt you, and I take full accountability for it.”

Paige knows she is in damage control mode, but she has a soft spot for the girl; a part that is willing to forgive her and move on.

She chooses to ignore it and let her irritation control her words. “You didn’t want to talk before, so you don’t get to talk now,” she hisses. Azzi flinches, unaccustomed to her hostility. “You told me to leave you alone, and now you’re in my room, begging for forgiveness. I don’t understand you.” Her arms fly erratically before reaching the collar of her hoodie, tugging it down to ease her tense muscles.“For god’s sake, we’re best friends. Sure, best friends tell each other everything, but my best friend doesn’t get to tell me to leave her alone and show up in my hotel room 2 fucking hours later.”

“I’m not yours, Paige. You don’t have any right to control my actions.” The retort makes Paige wince. “If I want to be with Hailey, you have to respect that. I have a right to be frustrated because I don’t belong to you.”

“Okay, how about a heads up next time instead of you getting cozy with someone else in front of your best fucking friend. I thought we agreed that we would ‘see each other later’”

“She was drunk and she came up to me, and we did see each other. There was nothing binding about that agreement. I can be friends with other people and you can too, unless I’m your only friend.” Azzi’s anger rises as well as she picks at her cuticles.

“You’re an asshole.” Paige breathes, releasing the hoodie. “You tried to get me drunk while trying to seduce me.” The other girl’s mouth opens before getting cut off. “Then, you went back over and cuddled up to her. I don’t have a problem with you seeing people, but even a short-term notice would’ve been nice. It’s fucking awkward when I’m sitting there–surrounded by drunk people who are all passed out on the damn floor–and my best friend is cuddling up to a person we barely even know.”

“You know what? You sound really fucking insecure right now. Maybe you should go book a flight back to fucking Minnesota and we’ll never have to see each other again. You’ll never get jealous over me when I go on dates with other people.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she wishes that she can take them back and shove them down her throat. Paige stares at her, emotionless. After a few minutes, Azzi’s voice cuts through the thick air. “Say something, please. You’re freaking me out.”

“I wish I was yours, Azzi,” Paige whispers softly, so softly that Azzi thinks she mishears. She scowls, but her heart flutters from the confession.

“I need you to tell me that when you’re completely sober. I can’t trust you when you’re drunk.” she sighs, looking at the blonde who has tears brimming in her eyes. However, she can’t shake the warm, fuzzy feeling in her heart from her words. She can’t describe the feelings, and the thought of treading into unexplored emotional territory makes her queasy.

“I wish I was yours,” Paige urges, with genuine sincerity in her tone despite the alcohol.

“Paige–”

Before she could finish her sentence, Paige grabs her wrist and pulls the younger girl into her. The blonde drags her along a premeditated route, stumbling several times. Biting the nails on her free hand, Azzi’s mind swarms with endless possibilities of danger; they could be kidnapped by random Belarusians, the coaches could catch them while getting a midnight snack, or they could get lost and never see their families again. But Paige was Paige, guiding her to their destination. The warmth radiating from the other girl’s body hypnotized her. It felt safe. Too safe.

Paige leads her through the maze of the city until they reach the edge of a river. Even under the late-night sky, airplanes weave between silhouettes of clouds; their green and red lights blink, bringing life to the sky. The city is calm and serene at this hour, with the occasional passer-byer that ignores the two girls. The solitude is disrupted by cars gliding across the bustling road across the river bank with horns that blare occasionally. Street lights hug the river bank; streaks of yellow and orange rippled back and forth on the water. The breeze is soft, like a baby’s blanket. It carries the occasional, faint scent of cigarette smoke which is unexpectedly comforting.

The two sit in mutual silence, away from each other. They both avoided the topic of the prior conversation. Paige hums softly, her body warm from the alcohol. “I didn’t know they had fireworks this late at night.” Her speech is slurred, yet Azzi still laughs in response. The sound of her laugh is like a piece of music written by Beethoven to her; a sound that can be played over and over without getting old.

“They’re not fireworks, they’re street lights reflecting off the water.” The blonde squints, squatting on the large cement block that she had been sitting on. As she cranes her head closer, nearly falling off the block, Azzi scrambles to catch the blonde as she reflexively yanks her waist backwards. They laugh before Paige puts her hand on hers.

“You’re acting really sober,” Paige declares while studying Azzi’s facial features.

“I am sober, so I think it’s a good thing that I’m acting sober.” The younger girl chuckles, punching her friend’s arm lightly with her free hand. Flustered, Paige averts her gaze to the shimmering undulations on the surface of the water. Unsure of whether it was the alcohol that was twisting her mind, or if it was the dim, golden lighting that lights up the left side of Azzi’s face, all she can think about is that her best friend is beautiful. It drives Paige insane; her bronze skin gleams and her umber eyes light up and become a light, almost golden shade of brown.

“Sometimes I wish that you could be in Minnesota with me all the time.”

“Well, you could come to Virginia and stay with me…” Azzi proposes before smiling at Paige, but she doesn't meet her eyes. The blonde is scrunching her face with her attention on Azzi’s arms, and not her face. “What’s wrong? Paige?”

“You’re cold,” Paige whispers, shifting her weight so she and Azzi sit facing each other. Trailing her hand up the other girl’s arm, her fingertips dance along the mountain ranges of goosebumps on her tender skin. Paige’s warm touch makes her feel something. Their eyes clash, uncertainty swarming in both pairs. “I meant what I said earlier,” Paige glances at her lips, breaking the eye contact. “I wish I was yours.” Her hand reaches for Azzi’s cheek, cupping it lightly, and the brunette melts into her touch.

Panic rises as a lump in her throat. They’re young–too young. Azzi’s feelings are new and confusing. She doesn’t know what love feels like and it scares her. As a kid, she was told that “love” was when two people cared for each other a lot. It was obvious that they care for each other a lot. They talk for hours, each word flowing effortlessly while they howl in laughter about something that the other said. Every touch they share is electric: sparks fly erratically through every vein of their bodies. After every argument, Paige is the first to apologize because she knows that Azzi overthinks.

She moves her face closer and drapes her hands on the blonde’s nape. Paige takes the bait.

Her slightly-parted lips meet Azzi’s warm and soft lips. She closes her eyes, pulling the younger girl’s face in before pulling away after several seconds. The kiss is short, but sweet. Azzi looks at her hands, not wanting to meet the blue eyes knowing that she made a mistake, and the kiss shouldn’t have happened. The once well-established boundaries of their friendship are permanently breached. Yet her cheeks flush and she misses the warmth provided by the close proximity of Paige’s body.

“Raise your arms,” Paige mutters shyly as Azzi is enveloped in the warmth of a thick hoodie. Paige’s hoodie. The scent of Paige’s rosy perfume encases her and a contented sigh escapes her lips.

“Are you cold?” Azzi observed her best friend’s exposed arms.

“Nah, I’m alright. You can keep that by the way,” she motions to the hoodie that hugged Azzi’s torso. “It can be a souvenir from Belarus from me. Something that can remind you of tonight forever.” The brunette smiles and wraps her arms around the blonde; she is the clay that Paige can shape into anything she wants. They just fit together.

The girls dance through the city and totter unsteadily to the hotel, where they collapse in the comfort of Paige’s bed, satisfied laughs slipping out of their mouths after sneaking past the rooms of their teammates.

“Would you like me to walk you back to your room, Madame Fudd?” Paige teases before a pillow slams into her face. “Hey! Azzi!” She shrieks, scrambling to grab another pillow before falling flat on her face. Azzi laughs hysterically for a few moments until the room stills into an unsettling quiet.

“You’re so chivalrous, Bueckers.” Azzi looks around her room, fidgeting with her fingers. “But, uh, since there’s a few drunk bodies on my bed,” The blonde cocks her head at her and smirks; the simple motion makes her heart lurch. “And also because you also don’t have a roommate and I thought that you might be a little lonely tonight, especially because you’ll be hungover in the morning, I was wondering if I could stay here tonight.” Paige breaks out into an ear-to-ear grin and tackles her in a bear hug, shoving them to the bed where their bodies melded into each other.

Amongst the clamor, there is an uneasy feeling in Paige’s gut that she can’t shake, but she chooses to ignore the feeling as she lets her body intertwine with the younger girl’s.

October 19th, 2028

New York City, New York

Azzi is selfish.

Anything she gets her hands on, she wants to keep for herself. She is a hoarder who wants to keep everything that she loves forever.

Unfortunately, when you fall in love with everything, you can’t have it all.

She paces back and forth at the gate, biting her nails and avoiding the gaze of her fiancé. Tugging the collar of her hoodie from her high school days over her head, she allows a satisfied sigh to escape her mouth as she is cloaked with a comforting rose scent. It was nostalgic; it held so many memories that felt so important and so irrelevant at the same time. But the scent made her feel hopeful of something she couldn’t place.

“Is everything okay, babe?” startled, she drops the hoodie to smile weakly at her fiancé.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little tired. The thought of everything scares me a little.” Azzi chuckles. Instead of a friendly smile from her fiancé, she notices his scowl at the text on her hoodie. Her heart drops into her stomach, knowing that this would prompt an argument from him over a certain college teammate.

“I’m so happy you finally chose to leave the cesspool of New York,” her fiancé sneers, “and, I’m so excited to soak up the LA sun.” Azzi doesn’t react to his comments, avoiding an argument at all costs. He came to all her games and cheered her on, but he always hated New York City. It was either too cold or too hot, too rainy or too sunny and never the perfect balance between the two.

As long as he’s happy, I am too.

Los Angeles, California

Paige is protective.

She loves her possessions and hates it when people take them. She wants to shield everything she loves from hurt and pain.

Orange and pink rays of sunlight stream through the tall glass panes by Paige’s bedside, bathing her bedroom in a warm glow. She stirs awake, her sore body begging for 15 extra minutes of sleep. Her throat feels raw and her eyelids are weighted. Instead of fighting against the weight, Paige lets her eyes close while thinking about the consequences of not showing up to Azzi’s welcome party. When she first caught wind of the news, she called Cameron Brink to come to her apartment. She complained to her for hours while blackout drunk before inevitably passing out. When she woke up the next morning to dozens of angry texts from Cam, she apologized profusely, showing up to her apartment with the shoes that her friend had been eyeing for months and bags of Sour Patch Kids.

It was safe to say that Paige wasn’t allowed anywhere near alcohol tonight if she chose to go. At least, not under Cam’s watch.

The Sparks had an extremely successful campaign last year and capped off the season with a championship title along with Paige’s first league MVP and finals MVP awards. The feeling is still surreal, and the thought of it pumps more adrenaline through her body. Even though the season was extremely successful, the threat of injuries plagued the guards last year. Also, the Sparks were in desperate need of a guard with the ability to knock down shots and step into the role of a strong playmaker.

Was she expecting Azzi to join the Sparks? Eventually, yes. She is desperate for a championship run.

Did she want to celebrate a piece of her past she let go before her birthday? No.

Is she happy about it? Absolutely not.

Her phone began to vibrate violently under her pillow, prying her from her thoughts. She rolls over to scrutinize the contact name with a groan. Her blood runs cold and she taps the green phone icon on the 4th ring.

“Paige! Thank god I got in contact with you.” Katie Fudd exhales. Paige feels the weight of her panic that reciprocates her own through the phone. “I know we haven’t really talked in about, um, three years,” she pauses, unsure of how to continue when she hears Paige’s sharp inhale, “but, have you heard from Azzi recently? She’s supposed to be arriving in LA today, at least that’s what the media says.”

“No, I…I haven’t heard anything, Katie,” she rasps, her throat ablaze. Her lips run dry. The media?

Paige makes small talk with Katie, catching up on major events in their life while both of them try to avoid the topic of Azzi. It was brought up once and Paige could barely perceive the muffled, yet pained sobs on the other end of the phone.

“I know you have your Unrivaled league coming up in the new year, but it would be great if you could come visit us during Thanksgiving or even Christmas,” Katie proposes as they near the end of their conversation.

“I’ll take a look at my schedule and try to pull some strings, but no promises. I have plans to visit my dad and Drew over the Thanksgiving weekend in Maryland, so we’ll see what happens.” Paige replies, acknowledging the piece of her that wants to let the past go. The part where she was too close to Azzi and her family. She knows that visiting them means treading into foreign territory.

“We miss you, Paige. Jon and Jose miss their ‘son’ too,” Katie laughs, relieving Paige of a heavy, bone-crushing weight on her heart. “Happy early birthday too, we could never forget. We love you, you’re still family to us.”

Paige smiles, a genuine ear-to-ear grin. “Love you too, Kaite. Tell the brothers and Tim I say hi as well.” She says before hanging up.

“You’re still family to us.” The words rang in her head, warming her frozen heart. It wasn’t enough to thaw it, but it was enough to invoke thoughts of hope. She was torn from her reverie by a knock at her door. Humming to herself as she sauntered out of her bedroom, she opened the door to her apartment.

“Woah, I never thought I’d see you smiling like you’re on Disney Channel,” the blonde at the door laughs, surprised. Paige scowls at her words which prompts Cam to laugh harder. “I did bring breakfast though, knowing your current mental state. You look like shit, Paige.” She sets two paper bags on Paige’s kitchen island. They sit across each other on the spinning bar stools Cam loves.

The two chat buoyantly; Cam tells her stories about her boyfriend, Ben, and his new obsession with cars or whatever. Paige doesn’t really pay attention to her rambling because of a painful ache in her heart. Even though it had been a year since Cam moved to Los Angeles, the two still learn new details about Over the past year, Cam used the fact that the shorter woman struggled to maintain a relationship for more than a few weeks as the butt of all her jokes. Despite being annoyed at first, Paige was quite amused with herself.

“Azzi’s mom called me earlier,” Paige abruptly says, interrupting Cam in her spiel about her brother’s recent breakup.

“...is that why you were smiling earlier? Paige, not even 5 days ago you made me-”

“From what I’ve…figured out, they haven’t been able to get in contact with Azzi. Katie seemed distraught when she accidentally brought her up.”

“Are you implying that she got kidnapped?” Cam laughs uncomfortably, trying to avoid the weight of the situation.

“It’s a possibility.” Paige mutters. Cam stops laughing and an uneasy silence drapes the room like a heavy curtain.

“I guess we’ll find out later, but don’t stress about it. You could be overthinking the entire situation. Don’t make that face, I know that you don’t want to go, but out of respect for your future teammate, you need to.” Cam sighs while rubbing circles on her temples. “I’m going to pick her and her supposed fiancé up at the airport. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Thanks for breakfast, Cam. Drive safe,” she calls out as the door to her apartment shuts. And suddenly, her mind is thrown back 5 years to the keychain that Azzi bought them in their early 20s as a gift. Drive safe, I need you here with me. I love you.

***

“Azzi Fudd! This is Kendra Andrews with ESPN. What are your thoughts on the Sparks franchise?”

“What prompted the move from New York to LA?”

“How do you plan to integrate yourself into the team?”

“What excites you the most about the LA Sparks franchise?”

Dozens of reporters and journalists surround her. They fight amongst each other to thrust microphones into her face. Sweat beads down the back of Azzi’s neck as she tries to answer as many questions as she can while being mindful of her fiancé’s limited patience. He had gone on his phone, ignoring Azzi as she drowns in a sea of cheap cologne and felt-tipped microphones. She quickly interrupts the reporters after 10 minutes and bid a polite farewell. Her heart stings with a bit of remorse when some of the reporters in the crowd express their frustration through whisper-shouts to their colleagues because they got a different answer than what they would’ve hoped. As she makes her way to her fiancé, her head hanging low, she mentally prepares herself for the incoming argument.

“You’re a piece of shit,” her fiancé hisses, “you took ten fucking minutes to talk to some fans.”

“Please, not here. Not while the reporters are still around,” Azzi whispers, frantically scouting for reporters.

“Save your bullshit for later. Call an Uber and get me out of here.” While leading her fiancé towards the airport exit, Azzi picks at her cuticles. “Oh, and next time,” her fiancé continues, “don’t be a pussy-sucking people pleaser and just give them an autograph. I don’t have the time for this, there are better things I should be doing that does not include waiting for you.” Tears begin to well but she blinks them back, trying to put up a facade for the public as she smiles half-heartedly for selfies. The lump in her throat threatens to roll out of her mouth. The thought of a night in the hotel sends a cold bead of sweat down her back. She doesn’t want to be left alone with her fiancé. She doesn’t trust him.

A firm hand grabs Azzi’s wrist, pulling her back into the present. She rips her hand away reflexively before processing the familiar face that belonged to her temporary roommate in Belarus. For the first time since she left New York, Azzi breaks out in a full-faced smile and throws herself into Cam’s open arms.

Her mind wanders to the other future WNBA teammate, who she had not seen since the 2025 WNBA draft. The thought of her quickened her heart, but the feeling sours when she becomes aware of her fiancé by her side.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, oh my god,” Cam laughs, punching Azzi’s arm lightly, a gesture from her USA basketball days when Coach Berube made an off-handed comment. She flinches in response, which Cam chooses to ignore. “Oh, and you must be Azzi’s fiancé. I’ve heard so much about you, and it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Cam,” the blonde chirps, turning her attention to Azzi’s fiancé, offering a friendly smile and a hand. “I don’t think I ever got your name.” Her fiancé remains silent, but his jaw muscles tighten and his cold, green eyes look at her with animosity and spite. Not wanting to raise suspicion, Cam plasters a smile and leads them to her car.

Cam makes a mental note to tell Paige about their interaction with an emphasis on the flinch.

“...This is the Uber you ordered?” her fiancé snarls when the other woman is out of earshot.

“You need to calm down. She’s my teammate, and this is a thoughtful gesture,” Azzi retorts before covering her mouth. Her breathing becomes shallow and her face pales as her fiancé inches his face closer to her ear until his hot, rancid breath drowns out her awareness of everything around her. The hustling environment of the airport disappears and her world is engulfed in silence until four words snap her out of her trance.

“Drop this shit, now.”

***

The ride to the hotel where the two would be temporarily staying was brisk, although Azzi wished it would have lasted longer. The brunettes reminisced on their college days while laughing hysterically.

“Have you talked to Geno after he finally retired?” Cam asks playfully, making eye contact with Azzi through the rear-view mirror. Instead of Azzi’s warm brown eyes, she meets her fiancé’s swampy green eyes. The blonde feels a chill run down her spine, unable to detect any emotion on the fiancé’s face.

“Nope, not at all.” Cam raises her eyebrows, clearly amused.

“Wow, it’s been two years since he retired. He even went to the draft to support you and, um, nevermind.” The blonde shakes her head, cursing to herself. Azzi laughs awkwardly, trying to lift the guilt off her friend’s shoulders, but her fiancé is unamused. “About time though, I thought that he nearly got a heart attack during the March Madness championship in 2025.” The two erupt in laughter, tears falling from their eyes. Her fiancé glares at Cam through the mirror, prompting her to awkwardly change the topic to the Sparks and their team culture. Azzi ignores the glare and continues her conversation with her friend.

Her fiancé isn’t completely out of the loop despite his apathy towards Azzi’s WNBA career. He knows who Paige Bueckers is, the national championship they won in 2025, but he only vaguely knows about the relationship that she and Azzi shared during their collegiate campaigns. If their relationship was an iceberg, her fiancé only sees the tip of the iceberg, the visible part that the media shared, the two in a million SLAM cover, their rise to stardom in USA U16 basketball, and most importantly, their adversities through injury together. What she doesn’t know is the true depth and complexity of their relationship, veiled beneath a thick layer of dark, murky water that neither she nor Paige are ready to uncover. As their lives began to diverge, so did the currents in the water; they pushed and pushed on their relationship until it came crumbling down, splitting the iceberg into two parts that are now just Azzi and just Paige.

Thanking Cam as they slip out of the car, Azzi checks into the hotel room where she and her fiancé sit on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. Her head hangs and she looks at her hands before her fiancé breaks the silence first.

“Hey,” he sighs, walking over to Azzi. When she lifts her head to meet her fiancé’s eyes, branches of tears stream from her eyes and down her cheeks, splitting into multitudes of different directions.

“Am I not good enough for you? One moment you hate me, and the next you’re suddenly in love with me again.” Azzi sobs, pulling her hair in frustration. “I’m trying my hardest, and it hurts when you don’t reciprocate the feelings.” She wipes her eyes while her fiancé stares at her in disbelief, masking his anger. He paces to the door before walking back to Azzi, feigning an empathetic look.

“No, baby, you’re perfect.” Her fiancé mutters , pulling the brunette’s head to his chest as he kisses her forehead softly while wiping her tears. “I love you so much. I appreciate everything you do.” Azzi could feel that his words felt wrong and uncomfortable coming out of his mouth.

“Love you too”

***

Paige walks in circles around her room while Cam summarizes the airport pickup, sprawled out on the blonde’s bed. “You didn’t even get his name. Damn.” Paige’s voice is laced with worry.

“All you need to know is that her fiancé is fucking weird. He was like ‘I’m so sick of this bullshit’ the whole time without speaking a single word. I introduced myself to him like a normal fucking person and he stood there and stared me down, as if I was competition or something.” Cam breathes, putting her face in her hands. Paige feels the same, unable to piece together the puzzling situation. “This whole situation is crazy. I was talking about Geno’s retirement and she hasn’t talked to him in years. Isn’t that weird? I feel like he’s also the jealous type. She wore your Hopkins hoodie and her fiancé kept eyeing it the whole time.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat at her words. Her Hopkins hoodie. The one from the night in Belarus: even though it had been over 10 years, Paige remembers it clearly. It was the first time she was in love. “That’s weird. You picked them up from the airport, and he was glaring at you the entire time in the car. Then, you- like, jokingly punched her. How hard was this punch?”

“KK-punching-Ice-after-losing-a-bet-about-your-life hard.”

“Okay, so not that hard.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard her fiancé call her a stuck-up pussy eater while they argued about the reporters before I picked them up.” Paige raises an eyebrow at the statement before coughing awkwardly, mumbling under her breath.

“Just– be careful Paige. She isn’t yours anymore. I know you’re still not over her,” She winces at her friend’s words, “and it’s the harsh truth, but I seriously think that you need to find someone else to distract you.”

“We both know that finding someone else hasn’t worked for me either. I’m worried about her. She’s my best friend, my ride or die.”

“She betrayed you. You need to move on. Best friends don’t betray each other like… that.”

***

Flanked by her fiancé, Azzi walks through the large, wooden doors of the restaurant next to her hotel. It was a short walk, but she took in the salty smell of the city. The breeze was sharp and it nipped her exposed arms. She was shivering and rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

“You must be Ms. Fudd,” the waitress waiting for her arrival smiles at her, “your table is over here, please follow me.” The short walk through the labyrinth of tables set with velvety red cloths that had a golden trim on its edges was interrupted by a crimson-colored curtain. The chatter behind the curtains feels daunting, and she wants to turn around and run back to Arlington. The waitress pulls the curtain to the side to reveal a table full with people, her teammates, laughing and talking boisterously amongst themselves. The first person to stand up is Cam, who embraces her in a loose hug. Seconds later, nearly all of her new teammates have thrown themselves into her arms.

The last person to stand up is the blonde. Her wavy, blonde hair, lighter from the Californian sun, is tucked behind her ears and falls down her back like a loose shawl. Her skin glows gold against the yellow lighting of the dining room. She wears a freshly ironed button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose her toned forearms. Only the right side of her shirt was tucked into her brown trousers that hang loosely from her hip, ghosting her ankles. A beige bomber jacket that matches her pants is slung around her shoulders and a watercolor-patterned scarf is draped around her neck. The gold studs and helix ring on her left ear reflect the light of the chandelier that hangs from chains above the dining table. When their eyes meet, Azzi searches her eyes for a sense of comfort in her familiar blue eyes that her dark mascara emphasizes. Instead, she finds nothing in her cold and emotionless eyes. Paige embraces her new teammate in a stiff and loose hug, her muscles tense when Azzi’s hands roam her back. Immediately, she is engulfed in her rosy perfume, the same scent that she finds solace and comfort in. Her stomach churns, yet there is a certain warmth that flickers in her heart. Everything about the blonde screamed Paige, and Paige is beautiful.

“Welcome to LA,” she says while pulling out of the hug. Refusing to look at her, she turns to the man looming in the corner while offering a hand. At the table, Cam sucks a sharp breath in, casting a warning glance at Paige which is ignored. Azzi stiffens and her heart hammers. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Paige, and you are?”

“I’m Charles,” he murmurs, accepting the handshake and offering a small, sly smile. Azzi’s eyes widen. Her fiancé is rarely friendly, especially not to Paige. They glare at each other for a brief moment before she takes a seat next to Cam.

Her fiancé and her sit side-by-side at the table, across from Paige and Cam. Charles slides his hand into Azzi’s under the table, squeezing it softly. The small gesture makes Azzi smile as she leans into her fiancé, enjoying his comforting presence. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to take her mind off of the blonde sitting directly across from her, laughing with her WNBA teammates. It annoys her.

Azzi is selfish.

***

The entire table has some sort of alcoholic beverage in their hands or in their stomachs. Paige sits awkwardly, sipping a Shirley Temple whose sugary and overly sweet grenadine has become bitter on her tongue. Nausea seeps into the edges of her head and begins to spread like wildfire and she finds herself rubbing circles on her forehead. She can’t stand the sound of Azzi’s bubbly laughter across the table. The sound that threatened to burn a hole through her heart.

“So, how did you guys meet?” Dijonai Carrington cocks an eyebrow at the couple while swirling her cocktail in her cup.

A brief panicked look flashes across Azzi’s face before Charles cuts in. “We met in college.” His answer is curt and dry, yet polite. Several of her teammates cooed at his response, gushing over the couple. The two women jump into a conversation about their college lovers.

That should’ve been me.

“What a fucking people pleaser.” Paige snickers to Cam while blinking back the unwelcome moisture that began to form under her eyes. She throws back the rest of her drink before dropping her head into her arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want any alcohol? Like, a thousand percent positive?” Dearica Hamby, the star forward of the Valkyries asks Paige while rubbing the taller woman’s back. Through the seemingly innocent image of the question, she notices genuine concern painted in the woman’s softened eyes.

“She’s alright without it,” Cam answers before she could open her mouth. “We made an agreement that she would have no alcohol tonight because I had to clean up after her last time.” The entire table howls in laughter, and Paige joins them with a half-hearted smile while heart fractures.

If her smile didn’t split into a frown at the corners of her mouth or her chin didn’t wrinkle, Azzi’s heart wouldn’t have stopped and she would’ve been laughing with her teammates.

“Yeah, I had to show up to her apartment with shoes and a shit load of candy because I felt so guilty.” She sneaks a glance at the brunette sitting across from her. Instead of laughing with the team, she was engaged in a conversation with her fiancé, prompting her to avert her gaze. It takes every piece of her dignity not to stare at the brunette. Her dark, curly hair is braided and hangs just above her shoulders; the same hairstyle that she jokingly called a bob back in their college days. She wears a baby blue knitted tank that reveals her muscular arms and white, flowy linen pants that hug her hips.

However, when Paige’s eyes pass by the soon-to-be married couple, searching for something, they follow the pattern of their intertwined arms and hands hidden under the table. Looking at Cam, she whispers, “I need to get out of here.” the taller woman waves a hand at her, signaling for her to go ahead. She files through her wallet and grabs a few hundred-dollar bills and hands them to Cam, which she graciously accepts. Dearica flashes her a sympathetic look before returning to her drinking game.

“I got a call from my mom and I gotta take it. I’ll be right back.” Announcing to the table, she grabs her phone and stands up, stepping over her drunk and overly rowdy teammates. When she finally slips behind the thick velvet curtain, she finally feels as if she can breathe. The curtain has become a barrier between her and a certain pair of brown eyes that burns holes through the back of her head. She knows that man. The blur of dark curls and olive and brown skin became too vivid. She needs to get out. It hurts her.

Paige is protective.

***

The neat blonde bun disappears behind the curtain with a soft, almost inaudible swoosh. She tries to talk with her teammates, laughing at their jokes, but everything feels forced. The image of Paige's stiff posture and the death grip she had on her phone haunts her. All of a sudden, her fiancé’s once soft hand feels heavy and scratchy against her skin.

“I need some air. I’ll be right back,” She announces as she gets up, dropping her fiancé’s hand. Cam and Dearica pause their argument over their stupid drinking game and stare at her with their mouths agape. There is undeniable panic swirling in both pairs of wide-open eyes, but Cam gives a hesitant nod.

“Is everything alright babe?” Charles’s voice is soft but urgent. “I can come with you.” Azzi looks at him with a warm smile before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

As she exits the restaurant, she is met with an intricate spectacle of orange, pink, and blue. The light of the day quickly disappears, but she discerns a hunched silhouette on the beach that glows under the golden light. Her attention shifts to the orange circle that barely peeks out through the edge of the horizon as it slowly sinks underneath the water, leaving a trail of orange and pink light rippling across the surface of the water. Waves crash loudly against the shore before they are drawn back to the ocean while laughter and joyful screams from children join the peaceful ambience.

“Are you just gonna stand there or do you wanna sit?” A tired voice rips her out of her thoughts as she tears her gaze from the astonishing scene in front of her. She glances at the woman sitting next to her who has her knees up to her chest and her head resting on her forearms. Azzi decides to sit a few feet away from her. For a split second, it feels like their fragmented friendship could be salvaged again.

She slips her sandals off and lets her feet absorb the texture of the flaky sand while shivering when a gust of wind hits her skin. Instead of ignoring the mechanical sound of teeth chattering, Paige shakes the jacket off her shoulders and hands it to her which Azzi graciously accepts. When she wraps it around her shoulders, she is engulfed in the aroma of roses again.

“I thought you had a call to take,” Azzi remarks, her voice soft. Veins snake down the woman’s arms and hands until they disappear behind her knuckles. Her pale skin had become golden and her biceps protrude from the rest of her arm. The neat braids in her hair are now ruffled and frizzy, and small wisps of hair dance with the breeze. On her wrist is a beaded bracelet that reads “RESILIENCE.” The bracelet from her camp before their explosive argument. The sight of it makes her heart flutter, but when she reaches her face, a cold wave of dread washes over her as she notices the smeared mascara and faint patches of salty skin on her cheeks.

“Yeah, I did.” Paige answers bluntly, her voice cracking slightly. An uncomfortable silence falls upon them; the air heavy from their unspoken words. Azzi’s heart throbs at her cold tone. “What brings you out here?” she asks after a few moments.

“I felt nauseous.” Paige scoffs at her response, shaking her head.

“Bullshit.”

“Paige, why are you so fucking blunt?” Azzi exasperates, throwing her hands up in the air in surrender. “You hugged me earlier and that whole time, you were stiff as a rock. It’s been 3 fucking years, it’s time to grow the fuck up.” When Paige says nothing in response, Azzi continues. “I’m trying to be the bigger person here and you’re being unfair. I told you that we can stay friends and then you fucking gho-”

“Your fiancé,” the blonde sneers, tearing Azzi out of her rant. Her voice is shaky and dangerously close to breaking. Through the golden light, she can see the tears brimming behind her smudged eyelashes. “He’s the one that you met at Ted’s, right?” Azzi stays silent, giving Paige the confirmation she needed. “You’re not being the bigger person, not at all. You’re only talking to me because you want something out of me. Azzi, you’re being selfish.” The last word hits Azzi like a cold bucket of water.

“You’re being unfair,” Azzi says shakily, refusing to meet the blonde’s eyes.

Paige lets out a strangled sputter before opening her mouth. “I’m being unfair? Me being mad over you getting cozy with another man after our natty suddenly means that I’m being unfair?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re being unfair because you’re hurting him with your comments. Do you think I can’t hear the derogatory names you’ve called him tonight?” Azzi scrunches her face and turns to the blonde, whose attention is on the sand that snakes between her toes.

“Are you happy?” the older woman finally asks after a period of silence.

“I don’t know.”

“What?” Her blue eyes dart towards hers.

“P.” Paige freezes at the use of her nickname, “I miss you. My offer still stands. We can go back to our friendship.” The last words are quiet, almost as if they aren’t supposed to be spoken. Memories of what they were rush through both of their minds. The women have something unreadable in both of their eyes as they stare at each other.

“No, we.. we can’t.” Paige finally speaks, tearing her gaze away from her, letting out a shaky breath and gets up to leave, but before she can take a step forward, she feels a forceful hand clasp around her wrist that prompts a wave of panic to flood through her. “Azzi, let me go. You can’t do this. You’re getting married soon for god’s sake.”

“Our last night in Belarus, I know you remember it. You wear the same perfume, you even gave me your hoodie. Shit, Paige, that was the time I knew that I fell in love with you. Every little thing you did for me felt like you were giving me your entire world. You fell in love with me too. Every argument we had, we made up, and we can make up from this too. I’m asking you to believe in us again. I won’t leave you.” For a split second, Paige’s eyes soften and she lets her walls down. She desperately wants to let go of her "tough guy" facade and let herself taste Azzi's lips again.

“No. You don’t get to say that now. Not when you have a fiancé waiting for you in the restaurant.” The vulnerability that Paige showed is once again blocked by the ramparts of her castle. The remembrance of Charles’s presence hits Azzi like an 18-wheeler. “It’s evident that you can’t own up to any of the mistakes that you made.”

“You’re not taking any accountability for it either! Do you think I haven’t tried?” Paige flinches, backing away from Azzi who is now screaming. “You had to address it at the fucking draft. For fuck’s sake, let me explain my side of the story.”

“I tried to give you space because clearly, you wanted to fuck around with him. You don’t get to explain your side of the story. It was the night of the March Madness championship and you ch-”

“Oh, shit.” A new voice joins their argument. Paige whips her head around and sees Dearica and Cameron looking at them with wide eyes. “Azzi, I don’t think you should-”

“No it’s okay,” Paige feigns a smile before pulling out of Azzi’s grip. “Welcome to the City of Dreams, Azzi. I’m sorry for having to leave so abruptly.”

And she’s gone. Packed away in the backseat of an Uber. It hurts Azzi more than it should. The doors to Paige’s heart that used to be held open for Azzi are now barricaded off, isolating her.

“What the fuck happened?” The blonde turns to Azzi with an edge of hostility in her tone. Dearica glares at her, and Azzi’s heart free-falls into her stomach.

“Azzi?!” Charles’s deep voice calls out, and Azzi is grateful to be saved from the awkward confrontation. When his eyes land on her, they soften and he wraps her into a tight embrace. Every piece of contact between them feels scratchy and uncomfortable, especially in Paige’s jacket. “Don’t fucking leave me again.” He snarls into her ear before glaring at her jacket.

The other women turn to leave before exchanging an uncomfortable look with each other.

***

An empty bottle of tequila is the only company Paige has on her bar table. Right as she lets the effects of the alcohol take her consciousness, her front door flies open. Every muscle in her body tenses and she buries her head into her arms in hopes that she will disappear.

“P?” It’s Cam. Her body relaxes.

A second pair of heavy footsteps make their way to the table. She stiffens again.

“It’s me, don’t worry. You’re alright” The other voice belongs to Dearica. She exhales and looks up. Cam’s eyes are fixed on the empty bottle of tequila and a heavy breath falls out of her mouth.

“Again? Seriously, Paige?” When Paige puts her head back down into her arms, Cam’s hands rub her back.

“Yeah. Again.” Sobs begin to wreck the blonde’s body and she shakes violently. Dearica and Cam exchange a panicked look before embracing their teammate.

“I’m sorry, Paige. What she did is fucked up” Dearica’s voice is soft and reassuring. “We tried to talk to her but, her, um, we were interrupted.” She and Cam are walking on thin ice; one bad step and their teammate will plunge in the freezing cold water.

“Let’s get you to bed. You have a big day tomorrow, so let’s make the most out of it.” Cam and Dearica carry their teammate, whose body is shaking violently while sobbing to bed.

For the 5th night in a row, she cries herself to sleep.

I need you.

***

“Charles, why do you want to marry me?”

“Because I love you baby, and I want to spend every second of my life with you. With us.”

“...Okay.”

“I promise I’ll never hurt you. I’ll be the one to protect you forever.”

“Azzi Fudd. What the fuck was that?” Charles sneers. His emerald eyes are alive, burning with acrimony. She doesn’t look up from her phone screen where her fingers shakily hover over the call button under Paige’s name.

“I’m sorry? I told you I was getting some air and I ran into Paige.” Her tone is surprisingly even and steady despite her trembling body. When a dark look falls across his face, she shudders. Suddenly, her phone is ripped from her hands and shattered against the wall with a loud smash that rings in her ears.

“Don’t fucking talk back to me. You saw what happened to your phone, and I know that you don’t want to be next.” He slams the door of their hotel room and stomps down the hall. When she doesn't hear the obnoxiously loud footsteps anymore, she allows her body to collapse and cries into her pillow while she thinks about the promises that they made on their engagement night.

I need you.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #angst #pazzi fics #Spotify

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asbealthgn · 2 years

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(the thrilling conclusion. also posted on ao3! here's some art of the kitten i did. part 1, 2, 2.5, 3)

The Corroded Coffin fan base find out about Steve entirely by accident.

It starts, of course, with the kitten. After Eddie’s had her for a few days he decides to make an official post on his Instagram, which is a big deal because he normally just lets his PR people handle posting. All he normally does is post shit to his story, but the kitten deserves more formal recognition than that.

So he picks his favorite pictures of her (his camera roll is filled to the brim at this point) and posts them with the caption meet the light of my life, Lemon Verbena Deathclaw Goblikon Munson (Lemon for short). It’s like kicking a wasp’s nest, but, like, the good version: everyone and their dog shares the post to their stories, edits set to any number of Corroded Coffin’s hit songs are spread across TikTok, coffintwt is in an uproar.

Several hours later, Eddie posts a video to his story. He films Lemon on the couch and asks her, “Miss Lemon, how does it feel to be the best, most famous cat in the world?” She responds by meowing loudly and trying to bite his camera. Steve is sitting on the couch, so part of his thighs end up in the video.

Aside from having great thighs, the odd sliver of Steve’s legs or torso or arms showing up in various photographs and videos that Eddie puts on his story over the next few days does not draw a lot of attention from the Corroded Coffin fanbase. If Eddie were to guess, he would probably say they assume it’s just Eddie or one of his bandmates. It’s not until Eddie posts a video of Lemon trying to climb onto the couch on her own and Steve’s hands make an appearance steadying her that people take notice. More specifically, the Twitter account that’s dedicated to posting close-ups of the members of Corroded Coffin’s hands posts a screenshot of the video with the caption those hands do not belong to our boys.

From there, it becomes a wild source of controversy on Twitter as coffintwt tries to figure out for sure if those hands belong to anyone in the band. There’s a lot of back and forth, but ultimately they seem to agree that the original poster is The Authority on the matter. Then it becomes a game of going back through other pictures of Lemon and trying to figure out if the guy showing up the background of so many of them is also someone outside the band. A lot of screenshots start flying around with captions like none of the corroded boys would wear yellow or the rest of the band other than eddie were in LA when this one was posted and so on and so on.

A consensus is reached: Eddie has been spending a lot of time with someone not in the band, quite possibly a boyfriend.

On a rainy Tuesday three weeks after they met, Eddie lays back on his couch with Steve laying on his chest and Lemon laying on his chest. “They’re onto you, Stevie,” Eddie says.

“Who’s onto me?” Steve asks, not looking away from the basketball game on the TV. He’s terminally offline and has been blissfully unaware of the saga unfolding.

“Twitter,” Eddie explains. “My fans have noticed you in the background in a lot of pictures of Lemon and they’ve started putting the pieces together.”

Steve scratches Lemon under her chin and she purrs happily. “Why are they looking at me instead of her?”

“Hell if I know,” Eddie says, reaching around Steve to rub Lemon’s head. “It’s not like you’re super drop-dead gorgeous or anything.”

Grinning, Steve turns his head to kiss Eddie. “Thanks, baby.”

Before Steve can turn his attention back to the game, Eddie hooks his finger under his chin to keep Steve’s eyes on him. “I have a question for you,” he says, “Well, two questions.”

“What’s up?” Steve asks.

“First, do you want to be my boyfriend?” Eddie knows that three weeks is kind of ridiculously fast, but Steve has practically moved in already, spending all his free time here and sleeping in Eddie’s bed most nights. So Eddie’s not super worried about what his answer is going to be.

Sure enough, Steve smiles. “Yeah, I do,” he says. He kisses Eddie before asking, “What’s the second question?”

“Well, since you said yes, do you mind if I post something about us to stop the speculation?”

“I don’t mind,” Steve says, “But can I tell Robin first so she finds out from me?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, of course. Do you want to go ov—?” But oh, Steve is already pulling out his phone and calling Robin. Okay then.

“Hey, Robbie! Just wanted to let you know that Eddie’s my boyfriend now….No, he wasn’t already….Well, we hadn’t talked about it….Okay, that’s kinda mean….No, it’s okay….Yeah, Lemon is great! Do you want to talk to her?” Steve holds the phone up to the kitten and she bites the microphone. Steve puts the phone back to his ear. “That was her….Okay, I actually have to go. I just wanted to tell you….Bye, love you!”

Steve puts his phone back in his pocket and then grins at Eddie. “Alright, I’m ready.”

“If there’s one thing about you, baby, you’re a go-getter,” Eddie says, laughing. He gets his own phone out and holds it out to take a picture of them. Lemon, who is fascinated by phones, looks up at the camera as he snaps the photo. Perfect.

Eddie posts the picture with the caption the rumors are true, Lemon has two dads. she gets her looks from Steve’s side. Then he puts his phone down and wraps his arms back around Steve. He can worry about his fans’ reaction later. Right now, he has other plans.

“What do you say, boyfriend?” he murmurs in Steve’s ear. “Should we go put Lemon in the bathtub?”

tagging: @nburkhardt @stargyles @csinnamon-fox @manda-panda-monium @silly-jellyghoty @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @starquirk @lightwoodbanethings @dramaticwriter @adaed5 @freyaforestafay @roaringgoodshow @sherrylyn628 @stevesbipanic @stevethehairington @henderdads @artiststarme @softboisteve @gregre369 @korixae @kokoshka67 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @piningapple @iwouldsail @thesuninyaface @aftermidnightwriting @hamiltonsteele @brassreign @bitchysunflower @homosexual-having-tea @adelicioustragedy @trashpocket @dramaticwriter @eddiemunsonswife @blackpanzy @bitchysunflower @adelicioustragedy @thegingerrapunzel @overhillunderhill @beckkthewreck @glittergluekintsugi @elyondelannoy @somegirlsomewhere @pluto-pepsi @shinekocreator @goodomensgurl @savory-babby @blues-tunes @babyblender @221b1tch

(tagging is having issues so i'll tag the rest in a reply)

#not pictured: dustin repeatedly calling steve the second the post goes up because he's had eddie's post notifications on for years #thank you to the people who gave me kitten name ideas btw!#i ended up giving her like six bc i couldn't decide #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet

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gunnerfc · 6 months

Text

Center Stage - Aitana Bonmatí x Reader SMAU; Part 2.5

You get asked about going to a Barça game during an interview in between shows in Barcelona and you play dumb about what the interviewer is hinting at at the advice of your manager and PR team!

CENTER STAGE MASTERLIST

You sighed to yourself as you sat in a makeup chair, your hair and makeup team fast to work as you were about to start your interview. You were glad they offered to do the interview in English, there was a smaller chance you misspoke or incorrectly translated your thoughts. As your team worked, you took the opportunity to scroll through social media to see what some of your fans were up to.

Most of them were voicing their opinions on the possibility of you dating Aitana Bonmatí given the recent outings you both have done. You had heard about her attempt to pass along her number to you on a bracelet and thought it was cute how she was using something your fans have become known for. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think the footballer was attractive.

The entire time you were at the Barça game, your eyes were drawn to her as she played. Even if there were no rumors surrounding you two, you would still be unable to tear your eyes away from her. You so badly wanted to DM her on Instagram but after social media went crazy after her press conference you were warned that dating rumors wouldn’t be the best thing.

You were fresh out of a long-term relationship and about to announce a new project. Having the focus be on your love life was not what your team wanted and you understood where they were coming from. However, you didn’t see the harm in trying to become friends with Aitana in the meantime.

You were pulled from your thoughts when a knock echoed around the room, signaling they were ready for you. You took a deep breath, thanking your team as you headed toward the interview room a few doors down. Your manager was already in conversation with the interviewer, most likely telling her what she could and could not ask you. But in all the experience you had, you knew interviewers knew how to ask about things they were told not to.

You quickly introduced yourself before taking your seat across from the interviewer who introduced herself as María. This was going to be a pre-recorded interview that would go up before your last show tomorrow night. You sat quietly in your seat as the camera crew did last-minute touches before they gave a thumbs-up that they were ready.

The camera was turned on and a few seconds passed before María introduced herself to the camera and turned to you, prompting you to say hello as well. You went back and forth answering the typical questions about how you were enjoying being on tour again and what it was like to see so many fans. You made sure to answer each question genuinely, you loved getting to travel the world to see the many people who helped you get to the point you were at.

“Have you gotten a chance to explore Barcelona since you’ve been here,” María asked, reading from a small stack of notecards.

“I have! It’s such a beautiful city with so much to see and experience that I feel like I haven't gotten a chance to see everything,” you answered, a bright smile on your face as you thought about some of the things you got to do so far.

“You recently went to a Barcelona Femení game, how was that,” María asked, this time not bothering to read from her pre-written questions. You could sense where this was going and out of the corner of your eye, you could see your manager sit up a bit to listen to your answer.

“I’ve been to a few soccer games before back in the States, but something about being at that game was such a different experience. I knew the sport was loved over here but it felt like a whole new experience,” you spoke truthfully, the fans and the atmosphere at the game were something you only experienced when you were on stage.

“What did you think of the players? Did anyone stick out to you,” you could hear the excitement in María’s voice, she wanted to be first with some inside scoop on anything that may be happening between you and Aitana.

You quickly went through a list of players in your head that you remember hearing at the game and what you had read about before the game. “Well, obviously, Alexia Putellas. She’s one of the best from what I hear and she had a great game so I’ll go with her,” you replied and you watched María’s expression change when you didn’t say Aitana.

“Well, you can’t go wrong with La Reina,” María laughed before going back to reading from her notecards.

You answered a few generic questions, giving a few hints about a new album coming soon. You thanked María for having you before she ended the interview and the cameras were turned on. You thanked her once more before your manager ushered you back to the room you got ready in. You didn’t bother changing as you were heading to a few more events that day.

You hated when you couldn’t be honest in interviews or when fans asked you questions but you knew how the public and media could be. It’s why your last relationship ended, speculation only added to the ultimate breakup between you and your ex-girlfriend. You didn’t want the media to ruin something else before it could even start.

You went about your day replaying your answer in your head, hoping that Aitana wouldn’t see the interview. You two haven't even spoken and yet you were worried about upsetting the Catalan. When you were back in the comfort of your hotel room, you were once again scrolling through social media reading what fans had to say about a relationship that didn’t exist. (Yet, you hoped)

[TWITTER POSTS THE NEXT MORNING AFTER THE INTERVIEW WAS POSTED]

ynupdates: Y/N in a recent interview talked about being in Barcelona as well as teasing a new album! 👀

↳ ynfan1: NEW ALBUM?! I NEED HER TO DROP SOME MORE INFO SOON OMG

↳ ynfan2: SHE DIDNT EVEN MENTION AITANA…

ynfan3: she didn’t even mention Aitana or the bracelet…

↳ ynfan4: to be fair, y/n has hardly ever talked about her partners in an interview aside from the last girlfriend

barçafan1: hopefully aitana doesn’t see the interview, she seemed so excited to meet y/n and give her that bracelet

ynfan5: idk why you guys are upset lmao, they arent dating and probably won't so what's the big deal

↳ ynfan6: right! like they are upset about something they all made up lol

ynfan7: maybe we should be focused on the fact that she said she’s working on a new album instead of her love life

barçafan2: she gets points for saying alexia but i was really expecting her to say aitana lol

↳ barçafan3: aitana scored in that game and had a masterclass, won player of the match and still didn’t impress her so maybe she doesn’t get points

barçafan4: wonder aitana will go to the show tonight after this...

#woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #aitana bonmatí #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader

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haleigh-sloth · 2 months

Text

All the Feelings

Yep. So manga didn't end how I wanted or anticipated, it's okay. Lesson learned lol. I will learn to live in fanon in my head lmao, it's an important life skill imo. I've never cared this much about a story, felt so much love for a story, I used to never even care how stories ended. MHA made me care about the stories I consume being good, actually. So I'm grateful, and MHA is good imo. I will just hold resentment for the last 15 chapters and pretend it ended differently lol.

That being said, I have no regrets. The impact this manga and fandom has had on my life is crazy. I've met solid online friends that have stuck around for years (wtf!) and I've met irl friends.

Like...2.5 years ago a group of online friends and I started a server. That server has been going strong ever since, it became a fun space for all of us to be goofy, be serious, vulnerable, whatever we needed at the time. And I'm so thankful! @mettywiththenotes @jecook @helga-grinduil @redphlox @transhawks @chocolate-biscuit @bootlickerhawks have been the best group to finish out this manga with. I can't wait to keep talking about all the manga to come in the future for us to gush over!

Julie (redphlox) and I met when we lived near each other in 2021 and have been super close friends ever since. Crossing state lines to visit each other, taking trips together, sleep overs, all the things. Best thing to come from this manga for me, life long friendships are precious.

@hamliet I've loved talking with you and Julie over the past couple of years! It's added so much to my life and I look forward to visiting in Boston one day. And squealing over Oshi no Ko in the near future.

Metty and Anya (helga-grinduil) sharing the Tomura and Izuku love with me until the very end. Metty and Cami (bootlickerhawks) having the best meme game, Hazel (jecook) and Cho (choco biscuit) having hilarious senses of humor and making everyone laugh.

Rani (transhawks), your humor is unmatched and your life perspective is always fun to hear. Watching Drops of God and Kids on the Slope together for weeks in a row is a core memory for me. Julie and I will see you in New York one day soon <3.

#my feelings #bnha #i also appreciate people i've intermittently chatted with throughout the manga as well #class1akids you're included but idk if you want to be tagged lol #anyway #it's been really fun guys and I'm happy for the experience and looking forward to the next big story

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kedreeva · 8 months

Note

I saw your post about how peafowl are ... resource and knowledge intensive to keep. Is there a bird you would recommend for beginners? Are quail easy?

Compared to peafowl or even to chickens, yes, but that also depends on what you mean by quail. There are a BUNCH of species that are able to be kept in captivity, depending on where you live. If you're in the USA, coturnix and button quail are both domesticated species that do well in relatively small enclosures (think, a large rabbit hutch or one of those little "coops" from tractor supply co that they think are for chickens but are only suitable for babies at best). Most people that want to keep quail for meat or eggs are keeping coturnix not buttons but if you just want cute pets, button quail are adorable. The males of both species are LOUD though.

Coturnix do well eating game bird crumble mixed with layer crumble, as they need around 2.5-3% calcium if they're laying, which is about half what chickens need. They also need a higher protein than chickens, especially as babies (28-30 as babies, 21-26% as adults), or you don't get much in the way of eggs. Other than that, fresh water and a clean home and they're good to go.

The hens typically start laying by around 6-10 weeks (the Celadon gene can cause laying delays), the boys will be crowing on a similar timeline, so be sure you are okay with the noise or know what you're going to do with culls. Coturnix can be kept outdoors year round... button quail cannot, they need to be indoors if it's cold out. The biggest problems I've had with the coturnix is a) noise (which I've mostly bred out) and b) water in the winter. My water system only works when water can stay liquid. So, in the winter, the quail switch over to water bottles with 3D printed drinker bottoms, and those get changed 2+ times a day. They look kinda like this:

and c) aggression in a poorly-bred line. I don't see it much with my Celadon line anymore, but when I first got them, and in the new outcrossed babies, the males would be relentlessly either on the girls or fighting each other, and sometimes a girl would also do this, just start attacking everyone. I culled against it from day 1, and now they're fine, but I had a group of outcross boys that came from my Celadons x fresh blood and the boys were unmanageable immediately. It doesn't matter because I'm not keeping any of them, but I do worry it'll come back on birds I /want/ because the girls may carry that. So that's just something to be aware of, I guess. Ask the breeder about it before you buy.

If you just want "A Bird" and not specifically farm fowl: you want a pigeon or two! They bond to their humans or to each other, they do silly things and have Antics, there is a ton of easily accessible info about their nutrition (and their food is easy to acquire), care, and behavior, and there's always ones looking for homes. Since they were bred as companion and even work animals, not just as food, they socialize easily with humans and they can be kept indoors and unlike quail, their noises are pleasant.

Of course that doesn't dismiss the need to do your research on what it would entail to keep one (or two!), but at least that's easier to do well.

#asks #quails #pigeons

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spacechild-glitchypix · 5 months

Text

How to position facial features for the Our Life sprites

Idk how many people need this tutorial (especially since I kinda sat on it for like a month...whoops) but I noticed people were starting to make more sprite edits and videos using the in-game sprites and I thought having this tutorial might help for those of you who don't know exactly how to place the expression layers for the sprite.

Part 1: What am I talking about?

Ok so some of you may be reading the post title and thinking "what the hell does that mean?". For those who are unaware, if you decompile OL1 and OL2, you can find the sprites used for the characters in the game. These files are generally in character folders that contain all the bits for each sprite as well as several versions of the sprite itself in different outfits. All these base sprites files look a little like this

You may have noticed the glaringly obvious detail that Qiu here is missing most of their face. That's because there are several seperate images used for their eyebrows, eyes and mouth. The reason they're all seperated like this is to give more creative freedom over expressions than what would be allowed if there were just already a set number of sprites with set expressions

However, if you want to make a spite edit video, that means you have to piece all the expression layers over the sprite and, since the expression layers don't have the same canvas size as the sprite, you have to actually place them on the face yourself. This can lead to stuff like this.

If you're looking at this and thinking it doesn't look quite right, you're correct. This is the issue you're noticing

This is generally what happens when you try placing expression layers by eye, you end up sort of assuming you've got the right spot when you're actually slightly wrong. And this is gif just shows the facial features in the wrong spot vertically

So, I've explained the problem, now how do you fix it? It's simple actually.

Part 2: The actual tutorial part

What you'll need:

The sprites and expression layers you need (this tutorial assumes you already have the game decompiled. If you don't and have no idea how to do so, here's a tutorial for just that)

An editing software that has a tranform tool such as Photopea, Photoshop, GIMP, etc.

Step 1: Open up the sprite you want to use in your image editing software of choice and import in all the expression layers you want to use

Step 2: Open up the transform tool on your editing software. Where this is may vary, on Photopea and Photoshop you can open up either through the shortcut alt+control+t or clicking on edit in the top bar and selecting Free Transform from the menu. If you don't know where the transform tool is in your software, I'd suggest looking it up

(A showcase of where the tranform tool is in Photopea and Photoshop)

(What the transform box should look like

Step 2.5 (This might be photopea specific, idk if other software does this): If your transformation tool box looks like this, cancel out of the tool (using the little x button on the top bar) and then open the transformation tool back up again. Make sure you're not selecting multiple layers and also make sure you didn't open the tool with the transformation controls tick box from the top bar. If none of that works, just delete the layer and grab it from your folder again and try again

Step 3: With the transform tool still open on your desired layer, move the layer so that it snaps against the corner of your canvas. Your image editing software should automatically have layer snapping enabled but, if not, I suggest looking up how to turn it on. If it doesn't have this, the best suggestion I have would just be to make sure the corner of the transform tool's box and the corner of the canvas allign. Zoom in if need be. You then repeat this process for the other expression layers (and any other layers that aren't automatically allighned like the blush layers or the tear layers)

(Notice the red lines that show up when it snaps against the corner)

Step 4: Export your sprite file because that's it, you did it! Now you have a sprite with the layers placed in the right spots! Isn't that great!

...(maybe I should've chosed a happier expression for this...)

Anyways, I hope this helps!

#our life #ol2 #our life beginnings & always #our life now and forever #qiu lin #olnf #olba

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bobacupcake · 7 months

Note

Hi Rob! After the events of last year I was really saddened by what happened with Unity, and haven't checked on it since. It feels like people are talking about Unity like normal again... Did things change back and it's okay to use again, or should I completely scrap my project?

unity walked back some of the changes, main points being

fee is no longer retroactive, only applies to unity 2024 and up

fee only applies to games with over 1 million in revenue over the course of a year, AND 1 million users

fee is now a choice between either self reported downloads, or a flat 2.5% revshare, whichever is lower, over the initial 1 million

ceo resigned

what that means for you is up to you ! most people are still pretty unhappy about the initial breach of trust. for bigger companies this also still means the per-seat cost that they were used to PLUS revshare, so a lot of them are considering switching to unreal since thats just revshare, but, i assume most of us here are not bigger companies, so its really just a case of, what you want to do with it

personally i am sticking with unity because i just cant really afford to learn another engine right now (which would probably be godot since getting away from unity just to go to unreal seems counterproductive for me . also i just dont like using unreal ..) godots also still a bit in its early stages, and this will absolutely change with all the attention its gotten, but again i cant really wait for that to happen.. and while some of my 8years of unity experience will carry over, id have to relearn a lot too and its just not feasible for someone who needs to launch a game like. Last Year

a lot of people still are switching though just because of the initial breach of trust, knowing that something like this could happen Again , jumping off a sinking ship, etc etc . a lot of people have been unhappy with unity for a While, it has a ton of different half-finished systems in place, some of them overlapping with eachother, while people really just want them to iron things out, focus on the structural issues people have when trying to launch a game with unity (unity was actually doing something like this, they were making a whole full fledged game in unity internally and going to release it as an example project. it got cancelled because they ran into structural issues trying to launch a game with unity . )

SO, basically . long story short its complicated . a lot of the initial issues got reversed, but the fact that they thought it was a good idea in the first place reveals larger issues that are going to take a while to address and build back trust of developers again . do what you feel is best for you. i Want off the unity ship but for me its going to have to be when im in a more stable place to actually do that... some day i hope to try out godot

#ask #potion of answers your question #Anonymous

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slavghoul · 2 years

Text

Hello, I prepared some statistics to give you a short overview of Ghost's amazingly successful 2022. It is based on data I collected between 22/12/2021 and 22/12/2022.

The big Ghost event of 2022 was of course the release of the band's fifth album, IMPERA.

Since March 11, it has sold nearly 500,000 copies, won the American Music Award for Favorite Rock Album and received a Grammy nomination for Best Metal Performance ('Call Me Little Sunshine').

Within the first week of its release, the album reached #2 on the Billboard 200 (ranking the 200 most popular music albums and EPs in the United States) and ranked in the top 20 best-selling albums in 19 countries across the world:

#1 in Sweden, Austria, Germany, Finland, Spain

#2 in US, UK, Belgium, Norway, Netherlands

#3 in Australia, Canada

#5 in Switzerland, Ireland, France

#7 in Poland

#8 in Hungary

#12 in Denmark, Portugal

#20 in Italy

IMPERA is Ghost’s best charting album to date.

On YouTube, the band amassed a staggering 260 million views. 840,000 people subscribed to the channel this year, which makes up 42% of all current subscribers.

5 most watched videos on YouTube in 2022:

Mary On A Cross (Official Audio) – 32 million views

Call Me Little Sunshine (Official Music Video) – 15 million views

Square Hammer (Official Music Video) – 11 million views

Mary On A Cross (Live in Tampa 2022) – 8.2 million views

Spillways (Official Music Video) – 6.8 million views

On Spotify, the band amassed 1,285,625 new followers. That’s around 61% of all followers since the band appeared on the platform.

5 most streamed songs on Spotify in 2022:

Mary On A Cross - 193,709,473 streams

Call Me Little Sunshine – 41,108,589 streams

Square Hammer – 29,720,042 streams

Dance Macabre – 26,494,053 streams

Spillways – 24,910,870 streams

It goes without saying that the viral success of Mary On A Cross on TikTok brought in a lot of new fans this year, but the magnitude of it becomes even more astonishing if you look at numbers.

On this graph, I marked a few events that resulted in a noticeable spike in the number of monthly listeners on Spotify, including the approximate time when MOAC began to gain traction on TikTok. As you can see, nothing, not even the release of a new album, gave the band as much attention as the 3-year old song suddenly raising in popularity on one single platform.

Between end of July and beginning of October, the number of monthly listeners on Spotify skyrocketed from 2.5 million to 12 million. This is a 380% increase.

Although the numbers have been in decline since then, it appears that for the past month they have stayed at a steady 9 million. As of today (Dec 22, 2022) the exact number is 9,110,996. Exactly a year ago (Dec 22, 2021) the number was 1,999,951. A hefty 355% increase in only a year.

Some other milestones and fun facts:

On June 7, Cirice, Dance Macabre, and Square Hammer were all certified Gold by the RIAA for sales of 500,000 units in the USA. Following the viral success, Mary On A Cross was also certified Gold on November 20.

The band's most liked post on Instagram this year was a video of Papa throwing the first pitch at the White Sox game (273,241 likes).

The episode of Jimmy Kimmel Live where Ghost performed Call Me Little Sunshine was watched by around 1.3 million people.

In September, Ghost reached over 12 million monthly listeners on Spotify and was the 450th most streamed artist globally - that's 450 out of over 11 million!

As of today with over 1.6 billion accumulated streams Ghost is one of the 1,000 most successful artists on the platform of all time (currently #808).

On September 11, Mary On A Cross peaked at #1 in the Viral Hits chart on Spotify in 54 countries across the world.

It was also the highest charting Swedish song on the platform in 2022, peaking globally at #31.

At this point I think it’s safe to declare that Ghost’s global success reached unprecedent heights this year and even allowed them to officially join the ranks of mainstream artists. With all of the above, 70 completed shows this year and many more to come in 2023, and with media of the likes of The Wall Street Journal proclaiming Ghost “the next generation of arena stars,” it looks like that the band is well on the way to become one of the biggest rock acts of this century. Not bad for a side project started by one Swede in his bedroom somewhere in Linköping.

Let us hope 2023 will be as devilishly good!

#the band ghost

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onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

"teach 'em"

Titling, tagging, and adding to my masterlist bc I don't think it deserves to get lost in my thot tags only... But it's informal af hehe

was thinking about loser!chan (again) who's like a 2.5 on the virgin (1) to whore (10) scale.

your new boyfriend is a sweetheart. he has the prettiest eye smile and he's uber talented. you love to see the passion when he's dancing and the strong bond between his older friends that are like brothers to him. that very same energy carries over to how he takes care of you. he's always fussing over your well-being and checking in on you in a non-intrusive way. you adore him.

bonus points for the foreplay before sex being hot and heavy. he's a fabulous kisser and he even has a great dick that feels equally as great when he's inside of you.

so why is he still a loser?

because his stroke game is sloppy at best and unfulfilling at worst, the latter happening much too often than you even want to admit to yourself - let alone him. which is shocking considering the way you've seen him hip thrust on stage.

it's just that you feel so freaking good squeezing around him and - oh fuck, oh no! - he's cumming way too soon again. you know this by how often he tells you, letting out a heavenly sob of "thank you for having the best pussy pussy in the world," and "thank you for letting me stick my dumb dick inside."

honestly, you're awfully flattered he has trouble retaining any control over himself. there's something quite intimate about the ropes of his release warming up your womb, still full of his softening cock as he grunts and babbles grateful praises in your ear.

but that doesn't eliminate the fact that you've only memorably cum once after the multiple rounds of sex you two have shared. and the reason you even did in the first place was by wrapping your legs around his hyper-thrusting hips, trying to keep him aligned to continuously hit that one spot with the enlarged head of his cock that had your toes curling.

and just as you're about to hit that peak climax - chan cums first - of course. but it's alright, you're almost there. gummy inner walls spasming around his pulsating cock while he whines at the sensitivity. what finally tips you over that much-needed edge is the warm dampness pooling in your clavicle - your sweet channie so pussy-drunk he's drooling on and over you. only a fool wouldn't forgive him for any of his blunders. though it is your first achieved orgasm with him, you're elated that he possesses some capability of making you cum.

but that was a good month (or more) ago and it's high time that you have that deep conversation with your loving boyfriend. and he's as remorseful as expected. in fact, you think he's near tears at the fear of you breaking up with him over this.

you aren't - obviously. he's perfect in every way, he just needs to learn how to use his dick better to please someone. and it certainly piques your interest when he cusses a certain someone out under his breath while running a distressed hand through his hair.

"what did you just say?"

"um... that it's all cheol's fault."

oh. so your boyfriend's technique actually sucks only because he had a bad teacher. not because he's inherently bad at sex. it doesn't quite add up though, because seungcheol is allegedly the famed fuckboi of the century and self-rated an 11 on the virgin to whore scale...

"call him."

"what?"

"i need to conduct some research."

so chan does as he's told, dialing the bane of your existence because you've never truly gotten along with that competitive, cocky son of a bitch from your graduating class.

"hello?"

"what would you do to make me cum?"

your boyfriend looks so mortified you're pleasantly surprised he hasn't passed out or hung up already. and seungcheol is either too stunned to speak or silently gloating before he finally replies, "darling i think you called the wrong number... with the phone of the one you're supposed to be talking to about this. are you drunk? where's that little boyfriend of yours?"

"i'm not drunk," you roll your eyes hard enough so he can hear it in the tone you always use with him. "and he's not little."

"could've fooled me."

"i'm sure you would know how big he is since you supposedly were the one who taught him all he knows."

seungcheol snorts. "guessing he's not able to satisfy you with that so-called big dick of his."

"i dunno, i think it's 'cause he had a shit-ass teacher. tell me, have you ever made someone orgasm before? like for real?"

"not anyone with the kind of attitude you have." there's some shuffling in the background. "brats like you... well, they - you - don't deserve it."

"gosh, you're so irritating." you spit out before smiling kindly at chan, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "hey, cheol... i think you're avoiding my question so you should come and show us how good your methods really are. and maybe you can make me cum along the way with such stellar teachings."

and then you hang up.

"i-i - " chan stutters, "if he's gonna come down... i m-mean... i'll study harder for you, baby - "

"relax," you press a finger to his lips and then smirk when there are two sharp bangs resonating outside your shared apartment, "looks like our sulky upstairs resident decided to grow a pair."

your boyfriend sighs. "couldn't resist, could he?"

sure enough, when you open the door - there stands your nemesis - choi seungcheol.

he glares, daring to try and look at you with a hint of disdain as if he isn't the one who has a light sheen of sweat on his forehead after running down the steps rather than wait for the elevator. impatient as always, along with a growing bulge in his sweatpants.

"wow... you came so fast!" you fake-clap to mock him further. "i always knew you and channie wanted to share me... trying to ruin my precious boyfriend's dick game 'cause you were jealous he got inside my tight, wet cunt that you always wanted first."

chan's mouth nervously opens and closes behind you and he gulps when the eldest of his friends gives him that look. "i-it wasn't my fault!"

you cling to his arm with a pout, eating up the way you can play off this game with the other man who's nothing but a menace.

"don't be mean to the love of my life, cheollie."

if the look shared between them hadn't already dampened your panties, they soaken even further when seungcheol's dark gaze lands back on you.

feral. hungry. wanting.

got him.

you've always had him wrapped around your little finger anyways and he hated... loved... every moment of it.

"on the bed. naked. both of you. chan on top," he commands - no, demands - and you slide excited fingers down your boyfriend's forearm and take him by the hand, skipping to the bedroom.

while getting into said position, you both start giggling at the realization while whispering words of love to each other that has seungcheol rolling his eyes because it feels like he's already forgotten.

he flops dramatically on the ottoman by the bed and loudly says, "alright young 'un. go ahead and start su - "

"i want you to fuck me, channie. please put your huge dick in my needy pussy... i'm dripping..." and then you whisper in his ear, "all for you, promise."

"shit," your boyfriend - ever the good listener - rubs his tip along your entrance in awe before sliding in with a whine, "you're ruining the bedsheets already..."

"ah please, ruin me."

"fuck, baby you're gonna ruin me."

seungcheol's eyebrow twitches. so does his cock. "hold on a sec, you're going too fast - "

"faster! destroy my cunt with your large cock! i love your fat cock in me so much."

you cling to chan's shoulder blades as he gets lost once more in the rhythmic pulses of your walls perfectly massaging his leaking dick. the extra presence in the room no longer even a thought with his erratic, achingly desperate thrusts. though you're trying to coach and egg him on as usual, he doesn't even need to be hitting your g-spot at this moment because you stare over his shoulder at a different set of brown eyes that shoot heat undeniably right to the center of your core.

seungcheol's jaw is clenched, a hand over his own hard-on. either to hide the pre-cum starting to stain his sweats and/or reluctantly giving in that he's enjoying this more than anyone could even think.

unfortunately, you're moaning so loudly over and over again about the thick, wonderful, ginormous cock (so true) of your beloved boyfriend that he's getting irked again and hates how it's kind of killing his mood.

"that's just 'cause you haven't seen mine yet," he grumbles.

scratching at chan's back, you sneer at the bitter observer. "fine, by the bed. naked." you mimic his tone, if not some of his words, from before. "let me see that prized fuckboi cock you're so proud of."

and soon enough you have one impressively large cock in one hand and your boyfriend about ready to coat your pussy with his cum.

and even sooner, you have two men on their backs for you - one weeping (and his poor dick too) from the overstimulation and the other nearly tearing your ruined bedsheets because you are so insistent on (meanly) edging him with your cruel grip on his large cock.

"fuck you," seungcheol huffs.

"you wish," you bite back and seat yourself back on chan hearing his telltale whimper. making sure to catch the final weak spurts of his cum in your greedy cunt.

let's just say with seungcheol's lack of assistance but much needed presence, you work on effectively teaching not only your darling boyfriend how to please his partner but also the fake fuckboi that might just join your sexy sessions from now on.

if not to learn from the real pro, then definitely in the hopes that one day he might get to touch, taste, or fuck even the tip of his cock in your pussy he's been fantasizing about for years.

#Wow thought abt this last night and worked on it between meetings lol it got so long!#>:)#ez.thots #dino.thots #cheol.thots #svt.thots #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #dino smut #lee chan smut

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thewritingofamadwoman · 6 months

Text

Hot Buns

A random snippet into the lives of Annalise & Mark Sloan. Technically a part 2.5? Let me know what you think & thank you for reading 🤗

Pairing: Mark Sloan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut, sickeningly sweet fluff

To anyone who didn’t know Mark Sloan or Annalise Grey-Sloan, life at Seattle Grace was the same as it had been for the past few months. The ex-couple decided to give their relationship a try once more, with Annalise having gone so far as forgiving Mark and allowing him to take her out on a few dates.

No one picked up on the innocent flirting between the two; the looks and giggles shared, the secret touches whenever they stood in the same vicinity. No one had ANY idea of their little rendezvous in the on call rooms. Or at least, that’s what Mark and Annalise thought.

“So are they going to eye fuck each other the entire time or are we going to actually learn something today?” Alex Karev grunted, standing off to the side as Mark and Annalise “discussed” the case they were working on together. Cristina and Meredith rolled their eyes at him.

“Well I for one think it’s great that they’re speaking again. Little Jolie deserves to have both of her parents happy,” Meredith shrugged, smiling to herself at the sound of her sister’s giggle at whatever the “plastics God” said to her.

“I agree with Mer. A less angry Annalise means more surgeries for me to scrub in on. So if McSteamy wants to McGet-It-On with her, I’m all for it. I’ll even buy her condoms if she wants,” Cristina said cheerfully, not noticing the power couple creeping up behind her. Annalise cleared her throat.

“Well thank you for that, Dr Yang. I’ll keep that in mind. Are we good to start rounds or would you prefer I gave you details on which condoms I prefer for your future reference?” The brunette asked, an eyebrow raised playfully at Cristina and her sister. Annalise didn’t care about what was said about her when it came from friends, and she loved to torment interns as much as she could. Cristina had enough sense to blush and look away while Alex snickered before Mark called out to him.

“Oi, Karev! Let’s get a move on, these patients won’t heal themselves!” He barked, making his way down the hall but not before winking at Annalise.

Anna smiled, and rolled her eyes playfully at the intern who immediately followed after Mark. Her smile lingered a little too long on his retreating form, and when she turned back to Meredith and Christina, she couldn’t escape their teasing smirks.

“Wipe those grins off your faces,” Annalise scoffed, walking around them and doing her best to ignore the heat trying to creep up her face.

“Well you two look close,” Meredith teased, her signature smile on her face. Christina snorted in agreement.

“Close is an understatement. Sloan’s one step away from sticking his tongue down her throat with every passing longing glance,” she said dramatically as they stopped outside the patient’s room. Anna genuinely laughed at that, resulting in the patient, Mark and Alex to look over at the three doctors who stood by the door.

“Sorry Mrs Sheffield, I’m Doctor Grey-Sloan. These are my interns, Doctor Grey and Doctor Yang. I’ll be assisting Doctor Sloan with your procedure. I’ll be in charge of making sure your heart doesn’t give out while Doctor Sloan works on the external repairs on your abdomen while removing that superficial tumor and patching you up as good as new. I promise you, you’re in great hands,” Annalise reassured the patient gently, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze. The older woman smiled back kindly and looked between Annalise and Mark, the latter already standing off to the side and prepping a game plan with Karev.

“You said your name was Grey-Sloan? Any relation to the stud?” Mrs Sheffield nodded towards Mark unabashedly, her voice hushed. Anna’s smile widened.

“Mhmm, he’s my husband.”

“Oh you’re one lucky girl. If I were 30 years younger I’d be climbing him like a tree. Do you see the buns on him? Oh the way I’d like to give’em a quick squeeze,” Mrs Sheffield went on, her voice not as hushed as she thought. Annalise chucked and noticed the tips of Mark’s ears slowly turning a light shade of red.

“Alright Mrs Sheffield, let’s keep that heart rate down,” Annalise teased. “We’ll be back later to get you prepped for surgery. In the meantime, Grey, please make sure we have an OR booked and Yang, please get Mrs Sheffield ready with the pre-surgical team. Karev, please follow up with pathology one final time about Mrs Sheffield’s most recent blood tests so we can confirm we’re good to start on time. ”

Christina, Meredith and Alex nodded and stepped out of the room to get started on their tasks immediately. Before Anna could make it out the door however, she heard Mark yelp. She turned around and found Mark rubbing his backside as he scurried out of the room, Mrs Sheffield winking at her and smirking to herself while rubbing her hands together. “I’ve still got it!” She cheered, and Mark pulled a tittering Annalise out the door with him.

“That was not funny, I feel violated and objectified,” Mark whined, his grip gentle on Annalise’s elbow, pulling her with him down the hall and around the corner. Anna’s chuckles broke into a full on belly laugh at Mark’s flushed face. They stopped walking, and Anna used the wall behind her as support while she laughed.

“You should have seen your face!” She giggled. Mark, who was thoroughly embarrassed, found his gaze softening at the sight of his wife laughing wholeheartedly. And yes while it was at his expense, he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. He rolled his eyes, playfully annoyed, a smile playing on his lips as her own giggles were infectious.

“Are you done?” He asked, crossing his arms as he looked down at her.

Anna did her best to stop laughing, biting her lip and looking up at Mark with a somewhat innocent expression. Mark felt his heart flutter at the sight of her.

“I’m good, I’m good. God it’s been so long since I laughed like that,” she sighed, smiling brightly. Mark smiled back and shook his head.

“Yeah, and it took me being assaulted by an elderly woman squeezing my ass for you to laugh that hard. You’re welcome,” Mark sassed. Annalise quirked an eyebrow teasingly at him.

“You weren’t complaining when I was the one squeezing your ass in the on call room earlier…” she said, lowering her voice as she looked up at him coyly, daring him to play along.

Mark’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he immediately collected himself and reacted accordingly, smirking while bringing his right arm up and above Anna, bracing it on the wall behind her. His other arm reached towards her, his hand engulfing her waist as he stepped closer to her, caging her between the wall and himself. What Mark didn’t do, however, was check to see if the coast was clear before speaking; his voice taking on a more deep and gravelly tone.

“Well, I am a gentleman. Who am I to deny my woman from grabbing my ass when she’s down on her knees for me with her mouth wrapped around my—“

“AH-DONT YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE MARK SLOAN,” an incredulous voice spoke up and both doctors jumped apart at the sound of Miranda Bailey.

“This is a god damn hospital, not a whore house, keep that kind of talk OUT of the halls! What is wrong with people today, talking nasty while I’m trying to my damn job,” Miranda muttered to herself as she continued her way down the hall, glaring at the couple.

Mark and Annalise took one look at each other and cracked up at the hilarity of it all.

“I can see why the interns call her the Nazi,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest again. Annalise nodded and continued to watch Doctor Bailey make her way down the hall, before she turned back to glare at them once more before she turned the corner.

Tag List:

@caseyandsloan @spookyboogyuniverse @xjasam4lifex @afckingswiftiebtch @itschelseacisneros @kkr102 @jackiehollanderr @jordycat-2018

#mark sloan x reader #mark sloan oneshot #mark sloan x oc #mark sloan fanfiction #mark sloan fanfic #mark sloan x fem!reader

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

Text

I'm on Fire

biker!Eddie x fem!reader Part 2.5 🚨18+Only, smut, angst, sex with someone other than reader, penetrative sex (protected), maybe also fuckboy!eddie? But he doesn’t want to be. 90's music & nostalgia, insomnia, smoking, mention of cheating (not on reader), Eddie is having a hard time, but I promise it will get better.

wc: 1.7k

Series Masterlist

🔸To the handful of cherished readers on this ride with me: this is a 2.5, a little bitty part, because I posted Part 2 yesterday early and realized I wanted to add more. Chapter 3 will be done by this weekend xoxo

ALSO, the Erika mentioned in this chapter will be introduced more later, but it's NOT Erica Sinclair, my god I would never.

This was not the night Eddie had in mind for a first time hanging out with you. There was admittedly a long list of regrets in his life thus far, but deciding to invite you to the Hideout of all places was now up there somewhere at the top. That dive never used to be like that. Back when he was a teenager, it wasn’t so rough or so full of angry burnouts ready to rage. The only drunks who used to frequent it were sad and polite, and almost half dead.

You handed him and Steve a few tissues from the front seat because Steve’s nose was dripping blood and Eddie’s lip was split. Neither one of them felt a thing, though, not in that moment---the adrenaline was still pumping hot.

Eddie didn’t say much for the rest of the drive, except to ask Katie to take them back to Munson’s Garage so they could take a truck over and pick up their bikes once the chaos died down.

This whole connection he thought maybe the two of you had was not a good idea. For fucks sake, you had been a hair away from getting a secondary blow from the brawl---he couldn’t handle the thought, it made him sick to his stomach. He got the feeling that you were bothered by his silence on the ride back, but there was nothing he could do about it at that point: he was shutting down. He was hammering nails in the boards over the windows inside of him where people (you) could peak in. It was a survival technique he’d been forced to learn when he was a kid.

Katie reminded him that she was Danny Clayton’s older sister, and he had been one of his old D&D buddies—reminding him of a time in his life that he missed. He barely had time to practice his guitar these days, let alone fuck around as Dungeon Master in a role-playing game.

In a haze, he remembered thanking you, but then you said something else to him as he was bent over lighting a smoke, headed toward the garage, and he just kept walking, pretending not to hear you. Once he shut the door, he regretted it with a curse, and went back out to see if he could catch you, but there was nothing but brake lights in the distance.

“You wanna talk about it?” Steve asked Eddie once they were in the transport truck on the way back to the Hideout.

Eddie had a cigarette pinched between his lips and he looked offended. “What is there to talk about?”

“Listen, man,” Steve adjusted his vest and sat back in the passenger seat. “You might not want to give me credit for knowing you as well as I do, but I can tell when you’re slipping over into the dark side.”

Nothing but silence from Eddie.

“You like that girl, or what?” Steve kept talking, because much like you, he wanted the old Eddie back.

“What’s not to like?” Eddie responded under his breath, flicking his cigarette out the window. “I’m sure I’ll never see her again. It’s for the best.”

“Oh, I doubt that man---look what I got,” and then Steve stuck his tongue out and held up the Wrigley’s gum wrapper with Katie’s phone number on it. “You said they’re roommates right?”

Eddie looked over at the number, and then he looked up at Steve’s excited face, and he shook his head, but there was the glimmer of a smile there.

After they brought the bikes back, Steve took off to take care of some family stuff, and Eddie sat on the old couch up in his apartment above the garage, staring out the window with nothing but snow static on the TV. He’d been watching the Dave Attell show Insomniac with a frozen bag of peas on his punching hand, but it ended, and now he was in his head again, a place that he dreaded lately. He knew he wouldn’t get more than 2 or 3 hours of sleep again that night, he could feel it in his bones, and it didn’t matter how exhausted he was.

So, in order to keep himself from thinking about you, he called up one of his faithful booty calls: her name was Erika.

She’d been a long time groupie of his band and she had a kink for guys on motorcycles. He always treated her good and made her cum, but he never let her sleep over.

He never let anyone sleep over.

And he was always gone by daybreak if he happened to pass out in someone else’s bed.

He had this way of going out of his body, so to speak, when he had intercourse with these women he didn’t love. It was like he hollowed himself out and became someone else. He became exactly what they all wanted; this dominant force who choked them a little and fucked them rough and made them beg for more.

That night, with Erika, he kept thinking of you, and it made him stop a few times to blink and catch his breath. “What’s wrong, baby?” She’d ask, just as she was on all fours and his cock was inside of her, the condom straining at the size of his girth.

He shook his head and kept going, but at one point, he was doing her missionary, and in the dark of the room, with his eyes closed and his forehead pressed against hers—he could pretend it really was you.

He went slow, he kissed your face, your eyelids, and down your neck. He imagined that it was you with your hands in his hair, telling him how good it felt, how close you were to cumming. That it was your voice that said, “don’t stop, baby, you feel so good,” and he kissed your mouth, tongues searching deep, as he buried himself inside you with a strangled cry. He imagined that he didn’t have the condom on and you wanted him like that; to pour his seed into you and make you his.

He trembled as his orgasm overtook him, and he came so hard that time, he worried that he forgot to put the condom on.

When it was over and he opened his eyes, all of his intrusive thoughts came rushing back and the light behind his eyes was all but snuffed out.

------

“That was amazing!” You shouted at Katie, rubbing her shoulder, thanking her for the stealthy getaway while Cryin’ by Aerosmith played on the radio.

You turned around in your seat to say something to the guys, and then immediately started pulling tissues out of the Kleenex box in the middle console.

“Aw shucks, it’s just a flesh wound,” Steve joked, quoting Monty Python as he gargled blood in his throat.

Eddie was directly behind you, and when you twisted your body to hand him some tissues, he took them and looked down, not wanting to meet your eyes.

“Well, that was...intense,” Katie said from behind the wheel, slowing down for a stop light after checking in the rear view mirror to make sure there were no cops behind her.

“Just another day for us,” Steve chuckled, and then he pulled up close behind her seat to compliment her getaway. Katie didn’t say anything back, but you could see her blush. Katie had been a bit of a wild child back in her day, but adulthood had changed her, as it did most people.

From behind you, Eddie mumbled, “god, I hate this town.”

For the most part, Eddie was abnormally quiet in the back seat, and so you tried cracking some jokes, but Steve was the only one who engaged with you.

“Who was that guy?” You asked Steve, because you couldn’t bear the silence.

“Just some douche bag,” Steve responded, a piece of tissue stuffed up one nostril. “I accidentally had an affair with his wife almost a decade ago, and I guess he never forgot about it.”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed. “How does something like that happen accidentally?”

“Well, for one,” Steve sat forward in his seat and clamped one hand on the back of Katie’s chair. “She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. And two, I’m not sure I would’ve cared at the time, even if she had.”

That response elicited a bit of a scoff-chuckle from Eddie.

Munson’s Garage wasn’t too far from where you’d just been, and Steve jumped out to open the security gate before climbing back into his seat.

As the car idled in front of the main entrance to the building, white exhaust filling up the darkness, you heard Eddie get out, and then you waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He shut the door, and then you felt him hover there.

He leaned down into your open window, his head to the side and his hair hanging down. He met your eyes for a flash, but then he was trying to hand you something, and you opened your fingers so he could press something cool and tiny into your palm. “Hey, I’m really sorry about tonight. I think you dropped this the other day.”

You were too busy watching his face, the curve of his lips, the dark moon of his cuticles from residual grease stains, but when you realized he had just slipped you your missing earring, it caught you by surprise.

You could barely get out the words “wait...thank you,” before he turned on his heel and slipped a smoke between his lips, head down as he pulled his keys out to unlock the door.

“It was good to see you,” you called after him, but he was already inside the building and the door shut with a thud and a clack behind him.

Steve had been over at Katie’s window talking to her, but once he straitened up and came around to your side, he looked confused. “Where the fuck is Eddie? Did he go inside already?”

You didn’t answer him, you just waved goodbye as you rolled your window up.

“See you around, girls!” Steve called out from the center of the driveway, holding the hand in the air that had the gum wrapper number in it.

“Boys,” Katie said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as she exited the complex and turned to head home. “They’ll be the death of me.”

-------

Part 3

____

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington #90s au #the 90s #eddie munson series

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fantasylandbitch · 1 year

Text

Summary: After being yelled at by Danny for saving Sam and not being on that ladder, and being accused of being Ghost Face by your best friend the feeling of being distrusted in an environment you called your second home made you retreat to your shared apartment in Greenwich.

Warnings: Wholesome in Laws, Suggestive smut?, Cussing, Movie references?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 4.5 Chapter 5 Chapter 5.5 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 7.5 Chapter 8 Chapter 8.5 Chapter 9 (Chapter 9.5 Coming Soon)

When you arrived home, you give the taxi driver money before turning around to face your apartment building, taking in the LGBTQIA+ flags that adorn the area as you let your eyes wonder seeing that familiar bookstore you always go to at the corner of the street, and not too far from it the coffee/Tea shop that always has your favorite drink that you order made just for you to start your day. You start to really notice the differences between your home in Greenwich and the home you came from in Bowery just hours ago, you see the difference in the atmosphere, vibes, sounds, and feeling of the area, and for a moment you felt just a little bit of the tension and stress roll off your back as if you had a weighted vest on, before walking inside the building. When you unlock the door to enter your apartment you were half expecting to see your roommates playing video games in the living room asking you to join them and half expecting to see Tara greet you with a hug and maybe get just a bit of attention from Sam asking about your day by the door but you shut that thought aside, or at least you tried to as you close the front door while taking off your shoes putting them on a plastic mat that you can easily clean. Then as you make your way to your bedroom you stop by the window that gives you access to see the stars at night, enjoying the scenery. Upon entering your room, you close your blinds to strip yourself of your clothes and take a bath as you slowly but surely put your previous clothes in the hamper.

Then you enter the bathroom walking over to the shower to remove the shower head from its confines, lowering it into the tub before turning the faucet on to find the right temperature you desire. Then as you step into the tub you hear your phone going off hearing the familiar ringtones over time, hearing the songs you gave Sam and then again to Tara, then again to Mindy and Chad, and not once did you think of getting up from your spot to answer your phone. Instead, you tried to sit there in silence to clean yourself up until you stopped at your back only cleaning up the areas that you could reach without touching the bandage the paramedic had put on you. Later you dry yourself with a towel not realizing how much blood you both bled on and picked up causing you to throw the towel in the garbage after you had put on some comfortable clothes before heading to your living room with your phone in hand. You slowly open your phone so you can put it on silent, before placing it on the coffee table as you replace it with the remote control to your Roku Tv. Then you begin scrolling through Netflix wanting to put something on but you feel picky until you put on the movie The Fifth Element as you start getting comfortable on the couch placing the remote to the side to grab a pillow to hold as you lay on your stomach not wanting to put pressure on your wound and for a few minutes you indulge in the movie and as time passes you fell asleep.

You awake to hear a knock at your apartment door so you get up to answer it “hello?” you say tiredly almost in a whisper before quickly looking at the peep hole. “Sam? What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Tara gave me something to give to you so I thought I would just drop it off personally” Sam says with a smile as you open the door and she looks at you smiling brightly then before as you let her walk into your apartment. “You know for some reason I had a hard time finding your apartment”

“Really?” you questioned as you walk over to the kitchen not paying Sam any mind, “ I thought I’ve had you over plenty of times…maybe I got you mixed up with Tara for whatever reason.”

“Probably, coriño, probably” Sam said to you before she was pulled into your room.

(Probably. darling, probably)

For a second you heard a muffled scream and was going to open your mouth when you remembered that you had a scary movie on so you continued making dinner before you walked back into the living room only to find yourself alone. “Sam?” you called out into the apartment when you heard another knock at your door so you go to check it out “hello?” you say opening the door when a jingle on the Tv rang throughout the apartment.

You hear a knock on your apartment door. One knock, two knocks, three knocks, four, you go to see who's at your door and once the latch is opened, a Ghost Face is at your door.

You hear as you take a step back when you hear your bedroom door open “Sam run!” you yell as you turn around to run to her when you were stabbed by another Ghost Face.

One stab, two stab, three stab, four, they push you down onto the floor.

"Aggh!" you scream on the floor crying from the pain as you hold your stomach, bleeding out, when another Ghost Face appears before you.

Five stabs, six stabs, seven stabs, eight, they plan to make you pay.

You're trembling now, unable to defend yourself by any means as you watch the three Ghost Faces step into your view. Then the two Ghost Faces kneel before you as one pulls you up by the collar of your shirt forcing you to sit up in front of them while the other reveals their face. Your eyes widen at the person to your right. It was Tara and she had this crazed look in her eyes as she nodded to the person behind you when you felt that same familiar embrace. When you turned your head to your left, the other Ghost Face revealed themselves to be Sam "Sammy?" you questioned because you saw her when she came into your apartment earlier before you heard the sound of someone else taking off their mask and revealing themselves to be Richie.

Nine stabs, ten stabs, eleven stabs, twelve, he plans to make art out of your spilled blood.

But the jingle wasn't fulfilled. It was nothing but lyrics to a song now and it causes Richie to say "Back away, Sam, this bitch is mine to kill" he demands and it makes Sam and Tara look at each other when Sam tilts her head. The head tilt makes Tara smile wider as she nods at her sister's quiet request before standing up to walk over to Richie with her knife in hand as Sam tilts your head to the right so she can have access to your neck. She then proceeds to lick the blood off your neck slowly trailing up making you lean into the new feeling of her tongue hitting your skin as a light moan left your lips while she looked at Richie at the same time, waiting for her little sister to strike him.

Then Sam starts to sing "Nine stabs," she starts as Tara begins her assault on Richie "Ten stabs, eleven stabs, twelve." She continues, holding your stomach as she brings you closer to her body now sucking on your neck making you moan a bit more, and in between sucking your neck, she continues the song. "We plan to make art out of your spilled blood not once not twice but thrice, we want to see you fall" she sings when a dark laugh left her lips "Coriño stay sane for me and my sky we don't want to see you die…"

After Tara finished what her sister started. She walked over to where you were held before kneeling down getting close,Tara kisses your cheek before whispering in your ear "Now wake up!"

The sudden yell in your ear makes you wake up with a jump before you relaxed to the smell of Kirby's perfume as you feel her run her fingers through your hair to comfort you and as you open your eyes you also moved your head in the direction of the tv. You had noticed the movie Kirby was watching called Deep Rising a movie about heavily armed hijackers who want to loot a luxury ship only to find out it was occupied by something else. A movie you had watched with her by accident when you were sick and flicking through the channels passing a porn channel in the process making Kirby scramble for the remote when you both eventually find this film when you had cable. Smiling at the funny thought of how you watched your first movie together, you notice a bowl of food on the coffee table and along side it a mike's lemonade beverage and a cup of water to company it.

“Busy night?” she asked and you hummed in agreement.

“Something like that,” you say mumbling “What did you do today?” you asked Kirby who still had her hand combing through your hair.

“Well…Gale called me earlier saying that she found a connection between the three victims.. well the two, who had bought an abandoned theatre” Your ears perked up again at the number three making you stretch to hug Kirby’s hip when a surge of pain ran through your back causing your breath to hitch as you carefully take another breath causing Kirby to look down at your back. Kirby then brings your shirt up to reveal your bare back while you mumble to her about the pain as she goes to check on the wound that the paramedics worked on, so she lifts the bandage to take a look at how bad it is and she sighs at the sight.

“It’s honestly nothing, but you mean to tell me that you went to the abandoned theatre on 31 Canal Street?” you spoke with interest getting up as Kirby wondered how you would know anything about that theatre.

“Y-Yeah how did you know what street it was on anyway?” she asked you observing your features and you smiled at her.

“I had thought about looking into that place to build some kind of business but I prefer being a freelance graphic designer for new hard working businesses” you say picking up the bowl and smiled even more “Did you really make Past Puttannesca?”

Kirby nodded as she slowly smiled at you but eyeing you never the less thinking about what Sam decided to divulge to her about what happened last night. “Yeah I went grocery shopping for the apartment” she says as you looked at her with a sad face making her smile “Don’t worry about it, I plan to be in town for a few more weeks for this case so I live here now.”

The last part of Kirby’s sentence made you snort “Nice! It’s always great spending time with you Kirby” you say genuinely, making Kirby beam at you before she asked you a question.

“You know while I was at the abandoned building with your group of friends and a Gale who sounded interested in your character..” she stops her thought as you put down your bowl to look at her “How come you weren’t with your friends today?”

For a second your voice gets caught in your throat as your mind was thinking of ways to dodge her question when you found one “How come you haven’t done a background check on your city detective partner?” you questioned with a bit of an attitude.

While that was a great question to ask she did notice how you had just became a little hostile towards her not in a way that an injured animal would be but something different, she touched a nerve in you. Kirby’s known you for almost three years now so to know you wouldn’t normally be like this confirms to her that whatever this is must be a little serious. “Fine then, if you won’t divulge information about the other day then I won’t divulge the case with you further” she says facing the Tv as she picks up a mike’s cherry lemonade leaving you in silence until you cave for her.

The silence even though it is always welcoming to you, you knew Kirby had a way of getting what she wants and it makes you wonder why your sibling thought it would be funny to marry a woman like this when they are the total fucking opposite to her. But the kicker to you is that you're really invested in the why and who would do this to Sam and Tara in the first place so your curiosity got the better of you so you spilled what was on your mind. “Fine,” you said as Kirby smiled at the Tv knowing she won you over before looking over at you when her smile slowly faded. “Last night my best friend Tara accused me of being Ghost Face and then proceeds to insult me by saying that I only went to the same college to fuck with her and her friends for fame!” you say as you try to hold back from crying and started yelling instead “And it gets better! She told me that I am just like that asshole that people out there are feeling sorry for because she thinks I’m trying to fuck her sister because never mind being okay with being a little interested in her!” you yelled as your voice started to get deep letting Kirby know that you're almost at your breaking point, you were going to cry any second now. “And then…And then...Tara..” you started but looked away from Kirby as she watched you put your hand over your eyes as you got up from the couch to isolate yourself “Tara said…I was just like.. Amber…the bitch who manipulated her and who stabbed her in the fucking back” you say now sobbing near the window as Kirby got up from the couch to try and hug you.

All Kirby could do was hug you as she started to get emotional herself thinking back to the days of when she was in Woodsboro as she began to hug you tightly as you lay your head on her shoulder while she moved her left hand to your lower back so she wouldn’t press on your wound. You two stand there by the window for a while before she slowly but surely made you both walk backwards to the couch where she would allow you to lay on her stomach hugging you still “You know Y/n, in times like this, its always hard because we never know who to trust and who not to trust because people are so good these days at hiding how they really feel that they can literally blend in and hurt anyone they wish or are deranged enough to do so.”

“What are you trying to say Kirby?” you asked before lightly propping yourself to look up at her.

“I’m saying right now your friends are protecting themselves because they don’t know who they should fully trust yet and if you know you can trust your friends not to stab you in the back then you know who to keep in your corner despite the accusations.” You hum in response causing Kirby to secretly look at you as if you were a cat purring on her as a light smile slowly appeared on her face before she thought back to your earlier question. “I did do a background check on detective Bailey you know the person I’m working with by the way” she says as you look up at her again.

“Did you find anything suspicious about him?” you asked as you watched Kirby shake her head. “Well I don’t fully trust him because I think it’s really weird how a case like this would be given to him if his daughter was involved with Sam and Tara…something doesn’t add up” you say kissing Kirby’s stomach before getting up to finish eating your dinner as you take a sip of your mike’s lemonade drink.

“Got any hunches as to why you feel that way?” Kirby asks you while she put on a different movie as the previous film ended when she found a movie called Star Ship Troopers, putting it on as you take a deep breath.

“All I have Kirby, are ideas of possible ways Richie could be connected to this case even though that prick is dead not nessarily Bailey yet” you say as Kirby perked up, sitting up now to look at you. “I think Richie could be related to this case because someone in the media is related to him in someway or was friends with him.”

Your thinking is making Kirby think, ‘Why haven’t I thought of that before’ before saying “Shoot” she says smiling at your detective work even though you weren’t close to this case as she is “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I think someone is setting up Sam to discredit her for killing Richie making everyone think that Richie was innocent and that Sam who is “supposedly the killer” is putting “her crimes” on him to make herself look good.” You say as you finish your bowl putting it on the coffee table “Like someone is well I don’t know getting back at her for killing Richie like some kind of revenge arc in a movie” Your thoughts make Kirby nod in agreement.

“Then explain to me, why would Detective Bailey be interested in this case?” she asks because she noticed how you kind of went on a different track with your thoughts so she tries to steer you back to the path you were on a moment ago. But she does see the gears in your head working causing her to pause the movie in the mean time to talk to you without anything distracting you both.

“I could say this is sort of a classic movie of the Die Hard series” you start as you grab a tissue to blow your nose “He could be a dad who doesn’t necessarily have a great relationship with his kids yet and then he stumbles upon a case bigger than him so big it could make him famous except he wants the clout” and your answer made Kirby hum in response as you both look at each other.

Then Kirby breaks the silence “Do you want an ice cream sandwich?” she asks and you laugh at the sudden change in her mood. “Well do you or should I just eat them all myself?” she questions as she gets up to go to the kitchen bringing your bowl with her and you follow her.

“I’ll put the rest of the dinner away Kirbs” you say, making Kirby snort while you put food in a container so the food won’t spoil.

“Ew don’t ever call me that ever again, Y/n” she replies going through the freezer and causing you to go into a laughing fit before Kirby stepped away so you can put the food into the fridge. “Here, you fucking nerd,” she says handing you two ice cream sandwiches as you both walk back over to the couch.

“Thanks, you even bigger fucking nerd,” you say back making her snort again and before she picks up the remote, she asks you another question.

“By the way are you free on Sunday?” Kirby asks looking at you so she can get confirmation if you can stay by her side that day.

“No I have a meeting with a client in the Upper West Side at a restaurant called Rancho Tequileria so no unfortunately I am not free to hang out that day but I’ll be free after 10 or 11,” you say to her as you look over and Kirby smiles at you.

“No, that's okay I just wanted to see if you were available. Now let's watch this movie” she says pressing the play button as you both eat your ice cream sandwiches while watching the rest of Star Ship Troopers.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 4.5 Chapter 5 Chapter 5.5 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 7.5 Chapter 8 Chapter 8.5 Chapter 9 (Chapter 9.5 Coming Soon)

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