#Discover Atlanta

[pineapplefulfillseveryneed]

Sparks - Good Morning (Variety Playhouse, Atlanta, October 23 2013)

[graysongraysoff]

RAAAAA I'M GOING TO SEE ATARASHII GAKKO! IN OCTOBER

[victoria-in-atlanta]

Harry Potter Exhibition

[cleolinda]

Louisiana students Ne’Kiya Jackson and Calcea Johnson wowed their teachers in 2022 when they discovered a new way to prove the 2000-year-old Pythagorean theorem in response to a bonus question in a high school math contest. But that was only the beginning.

A volunteer at their former school, New Orleans’ St. Mary’s Academy, encouraged them to submit their work on the famous mathematical theory to a professional conference, and in March 2023 they became the youngest people to present at the American Mathematical Society’s Southeastern Sectional conference in Atlanta. Their appearance elicited a wave of media coverage, including a spot on “60 Minutes.” The pair also received symbolic keys to the city of New Orleans and a shout-out from Michelle Obama.

Now Jackson and Johnson, who started college last year, have notched another achievement: authoring an academic paper detailing their original proof — plus nine more. Their work published Monday in the scientific journal American Mathematical Monthly.

Bonus:

[log6]

Scientists Perfectly Recreate Minecraft's iconic "Nether Portal"; Portal Destination Discovered To Always Be Atlanta, Georgia

[chadfallout76podcast]

**Please share**

Voice Actor Wes Johnson is currently in ICU fighting for his life.

This past Wednesday, Jan. 22nd, Wes volunteered to host a benefit event for the National Alzheimer’s Foundation in Atlanta. He flew down and checked into his hotel room- but something happened and he didn’t make it out of the hotel.

When he didn’t show up at the event, his wife Kim tried desperately to get in touch with him. It took hotel security to enter his room and discover him unconscious and barely alive. EMT crews struggled to find a pulse. Right now, Wes continues to battle for his life in an intensive care unit.

As of this morning I spoke with his wife Kim and they are still trying to find answers, but it's been very touch and go. He was a voice actor I loved, then a mentor and teacher and he's become a dear friend. He's been struggling quietly behind the scenes with some medical issues that has taken a financial toll on his family. They very, very much need our help. Please spread the word and PLEASE keep this man in your thoughts and prayers. I cannot begin to tell you how rare and genuine this man is, nor how much he has given of himself to charity and to help others.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 10: The Bridges Burned Around Us

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

Be good to me, and I'll be good to you (but please don't be too good to be true)

(In which an apologetic writer finally finishes a chapter that took much longer than necessary)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 10.2K (seems fitting for chapter 10 lol)

TW: Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies :) I am so incredibly late with this I know but considering it's really the length of two chapters, I think I should be forgiven. Despite how long this took me, I don't really know how I feel about this chapter because it's both filler but also pretty important so honestly it does feel a little all over the place. But I hope y'all like it anyways. I do suggest quickly skimming over Part 2 before you read this just to jog your memory a little bit. I did edit as I always do but there's probably typos/mistakes, so feel free to point those out. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a wonderful weekend my loves <3

May 2033

“What the hell Bueckers?” Coach yells, glaring daggers at Paige who has the audacity to at least look a little embarrassed as she reaches a hand to help the rookie she’d just knocked over with far too much unnecessary force. Azzi narrows her eyes at the scene, confused at Paige’s atypical behavior. It wasn’t uncommon for the vets to rib the rookies a little bit, hell they had a whole ragging initiation ceremony planned for this weekend to welcome the newest members of their team, but Paige seemed to have a personal vendetta against Angie Davis.

When they’d watched the draft together, Azzi could’ve seen sworn she’d seen a flash of uncomfortableness flicker in Paige’s eyes as the commissioner announced that the Valkyries, with their third pick acquired via Atlanta, were picking Angie Davis from Stanford University. The blonde had stiffened but only for a split second and Azzi had chalked it up to nothing because really, what beef could Paige possibly have with a 22 year old? Except clearly something was bothering the Minnesota native because this is the fifth time today itself that Paige has fouled the girl so hard that her body had almost slightly bounced as it hit the floor. 

The first time, everyone had found it amusing because who didn’t laugh at a rookie getting a taste of the league. The second time, Coach had rolled her eyes but the rest of the team had still found it pretty funny. And then as it continued, Azzi could tell her teammates were just as confused by Paige’s behavior as she was. They might not know the blonde as well as Azzi did, but in the last month or so they’d discover that the basketball superstar was really just a ball of golden retriever energy. Since they’d started training camp recently, they’d seen that Paige always practiced hard but she also had the time of her life doing it. They’d seen that she might practically bulldoze her teammates in her eagerness to be a good defender but she’d always be the first one to help pick them up with a teasing grin on her face right after. Except apparently not with Angie. With Angie, there was nothing but brute force and the first couple of times, before Coach’s clear irritation had started to seep onto her face, Paige hadn’t even bothered helping the rookie up. And although Azzi would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that a part of her found this aggressive display of strength just a tad bit attractive, she also knew it was completely unlike her Paige to be acting like this. 

“So,” she says softly, lowering her voice purposefully as she sidles up to Paige in the locker room after practice, “are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” there’s a smirk on Paige’s face as she takes a step closer towards Azzi. 

The brunette narrows her eyes, “you know what.”

“What I know,” Paige whispers as she ghosts her hands across Azzi’s hips, keeping her movement innocuous as to not alert their other teammates who are engrossed in conversation not too far away from them, “is that I’m pretty sure you’re just looking for a way to get close to me.” 

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” but she can’t stop the faint blush that’s creeping up  her cheeks as Paige’s hot breath fans across her face and her gaze shifts to the blonde’s sweat sheened biceps that are on fully display under her flimsy tank top. 

Paige notices it immediately as her smirk widens, “appreciating the view baby?”

“Shut up,” Azzi shoves her back lightly, “don’t try and distract me.”

“‘I’m not even trying. I just have that effect on you,” Paige shrugs coyly as she pushes herself back into Azzi’s space.

The brunette’s eyes dart over to her teammate for a brief second, making sure the rest of them are still occupied with their own conversations as she takes her own step towards the blue-eyed woman, the edges of her lips turning up into a smug grin when she hears Paige’s breath hitch, “and what about the effect I have on you?”

There’s something thrilling about hiding this from their team, something sexy about having to keep their hands to themselves when they’re constantly desperate to touch. It was torture in a way, having Paige so close and not being able to kiss her or hold her. But that only meant that when Azzi did finally get to do all of those things, it felt like finally coming up for air; like after being deprived of her oxygen for so long, she could finally breathe. 

Last time around, they’d kept it a secret from the world but everyone who meant something to them had known. Their old teammates for one. This time, especially since they hadn’t quite defined what this was, they’d chosen to keep it even closer to their chests. It had been Paige’s idea this time and Azzi thinks maybe she’d proposed it just to beat the brunette to the punch-maybe she’d even been a little disappointed by it- but she thinks that they probably do need a little more time; a little more time to trust that this time they wouldn’t go up in flames, that they wouldn’t burn everyone else around them. 

“You don’t- you don’t have any effect on me,” Paige stutters. 

“Is that right?” Azzi asks coyly, taking her shirt off at a ridiculous slow pace, enjoying the way blonde’s eyes are immediately drawn towards her toned abs, “none at all?” 

“N-no,” Paige gulps as she watches the brunette finally get rid of the offending t-shirt and she’s left in nothing but a sports bra that does little to hide the curves underneath. 

“Appreciating the view baby?”  Azzi smirks, repeating the older woman’s words from before she slyly runs her index finger across the purplish red hues of a hickey Paige had left on her collarbone from the night before. 

“You’re so-”

“Bueckers,” a loud voice interrupts Paige’s groan as the two of them spring apart, everyone in the room turning to look at their Coach leaning against the doorframe, “in my office. Now.”

It feels a little bit like they’re college students being reprimanded again but there’s this nagging intuition in Azzi’s gut, as she watched Paige sheepishly follow Coach into her office, that she’s missing out on some important information. Something churns in her stomach at the thought of it. Things had been near perfect so far; they were climbing back up to what they had been, maybe climbing their way to something better but Azzi thinks that if another gust of circumstance tries to shove them down again, they might not be able to get back up this time. Because this time, they’re not climbing alone. This time, they have Stephie and at the end of the day, she’s all that matters. 

“So is Paige’s car broken or something?” Tessa’s question catches Azzi off guard as she shakes herself out of head and looks at her teammate with confusion. 

“Uh no why?”

“I mean it’s just every time she shows up somewhere, it seems she’s in your car, with you. So I just figured something must be up with her car, why else would y’all be carpooling literally every single day unless-” there’s a sparkle in Tessa’s eyes as she leans casually against her locks, “unless there’s another reason?”

“What other reason could there be?” Azzi’s voice is unusually high-pitched as she avoids Tessa’s perceptive eyes and instead glares daggers at a spluttering Jana, “her car’s in the shop. That’s it. That’s definitely it. That’s the only reason I’m driving her around.”

“Aw that sucks,” Laila says with an oblivious empathetic smile, “I mean we could help out if that’s the case? With carpooling.”

“I don’t think-”

“What a lovely idea Phelia,” Tessa smirks and Azzi knows just by how guileful it is, that the former Gamecock is absolutely onto them, “what do you think Azzi? Maybe we can make a little chart for who drives Paige to practice huh? Be welcoming to our teammate?”

Resisting the urge to flip off both Tessa and Jana whose shoulders are shaking with laughter, Azzi settles on a sugary sweet smile instead, “I don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Oh we’d be happy to help,” Tessa chirps happily and Azzi’s suddenly wistful for the moment back in her senior year when she’d dropped the South Carolina guard for an easy layup. 

“And that’s very kind of y’all but,” she reaches over to squeeze the younger girl’s shoulder tightly, making her grunt in discomfort, “I think Paige is okay. It just works better if it’s one person. Less complications, you know?”

“Won’t somebody please think about the complications,” Jana snickers. 

“I’m so confused,” Laila says, a frown on her face as she looks weirdly at her teammates. 

“It’s nothing,” Azzi says shrilly as she slings both her and Paige’s bags on her shoulders, rolling her eyes when both Jana and Tessa giggle at the domesticity of the action, “don’t worry about it, Phelia.”

“Y’all are acting strange,” Laila shrugs as she starts to make her way out of the locker room and Azzi’s rounds on the other two women. 

“Whatever you think you know Tess,” Azzi raises a finger in warning, “keep it to yourself.”

Tessa makes a point to make a zipping motion across her lips as her eyes glimmer with mischief. 

“Thank god,” Jana gasps dramatically, “I was so tired of having to deal with these two all by myself. Do you know how hard it is Tess? I’ve been doing it for YEARS.”

“You poor soul,” Tessa coos, “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you. They’re kind of disgusting.”

“You peeped that already? Damn Azzi, do you realize how sickening y’all must be for Tessa to have already figured it out?”

“No forreal,” Tessa teases, “if you don’t want people catching onto your shit, I suggest y’all stop eyefucking every other second.”

“Fuck all the way off. Both of you,” Azzi grunts as Jana practically howls with laughter.

“You kiss your daughter with that mouth Fudd?”

“I dunno about Stephie,” Tessa drops her voice so only Jana and Azzi can hear her, ��but I bet she kisses Paige with that mouth huh Az?”

Azzi groans, hiding her bright red face in her hands as her teammates' jovial laughter echoes through the locker room.

*** 

Paige is eerily quiet as she climbs into the passenger seat and Azzi knows immediately by the way she doesn’t try to coax her way into driving, that whatever conversation she’d had with Coach, likely hadn’t been a pleasant one. There are a thousand and one questions taking birth in her mind but Azzi doesn’t voice any of them, knowing Paige isn’t ready to answer them. Instead, she laces her fingers through Paige’s, resting them on the other girl's lap as she rubs a soothing circle against the back of her hand, a promise of whenever you’re ready to share, i’ll be ready to listen. 

They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts, one driven by that fact Paige has practically moved into Azzi’s house at this point. Their day started with them dropping Stephie off at school before the two of them would go to training or practice or whatever basketball activities they had planned. Then, they’d go to pick up Stephie from school and Azzi would drop her and Paige off at Curry camp while she ran various errands before circling back to pick them up. It’s domestic as hell and there’s a part of Azzi that’s still a little fearful; perhaps they’re trying to fit the puzzle pieces of their separate lives into each other a little too quickly. But she thinks that maybe those puzzle pieces had never really been disconnected, because sometimes she thinks their existence might just be an extension of each other’s. 

“You know,” Azzi begins softly when it becomes abundantly clear Paige isn’t going to speak first, “I’m okay with the fact that you’ve probably fucked other people. I mean other than the woman you married as well that is.”

“What the fuck?” Paige’s head whips towards her so quick, it must hurt just a little bit, “where the fuck did that come from?”

Azzi shrugs, “I’m just saying-”

“Why are you just saying?” Paige's eyes widen in panic as she possessively tightens her grip on the brunette’s hand, “are you about to tell me about someone you hooked up with? Because I’mma be honest Azzi I’d rather jump out of this moving car then hear about some whore who had the audacity-”

“Audacity? You do realize I was-”

“Say you were single and I actually will jump out of the car,” Paige warns, “but no actually dude what the fuck?”

“Well you see,” Azzi says carefully, “I’m trying to figure out why you’re being such a bitch to our new rookie and after careful deliberation, I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s gotta be a hookup gone wrong because why the fuck else would Paige Bueckers, who has a hard time killing a spider, be so unnecessarily mean to this poor girl?” 

There’s silence in the car for a second as Paige opens and closes her mouth, unable to get a word out, until she doubles over laughing, the sound of it echoing all around them. Azzi can’t help the soft grin that flitters across her face, relieved at seeing the way the tension begins to dissipate from the blonde’s shoulders. And Azzi swears that when Paige laughs, it feels a little bit like the sun has come out again; like the flowers are blooming and birds are chirping and everything is right in the world again and she thinks the sun should probably be jealous of the warmth Paige exudes because at least against the silhouette of Azzi’s sky, Paige burns brighter than the sun ever will. 

“You-you think I fucked Angie?” Paige finally manages to splutter out between peals of laughs, “baby she’s barely 22.”

“Hey,” Azzi pouts, “you always did go for younger women. Like me for example.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “you’re literally one year younger than me.”

“One year and a couple of days,” Azzi corrects. 

Rolling her eyes Paige uses both hands to hold Azzi’s non-driving one, “Azzi I swear to you that I have never in my life hooked up with Angie fucking Davis.”

“I know,” Azzi confesses, eyes still focused on the road ahead of her, “so what exactly is your problem with her then Paige?”

“You couldn’t have just asked me that?”

Azzi shrugs, “felt like I needed to make you laugh first. So tell me Bueckers-” before she can continue, she feels lips being pressed to her cheeks and can’t help the crimson tinge it elicits on her face, “what- what was that for?”

“Because you’re a little bit of a sap and I’m glad you’re my sap,” Paige grins, “all mine.”

“You’re trying to change the topic.”

“I am not.”

“Paige.”

The blonde sighs, leaning her head back against the headrest, “can we talk about it tonight? I wanna tell you I promise- I just- I think we need to sit down so that I- I can explain it to you properly.”

“That feels ominous,” Azzi’s stomach clenches at the seriousness in Paige’s voice as she turns onto the street for Stephie’s school, “should I be worried?”

“No,” Paige says firmly, bringing their enclosed hands to her mouth so she can brush a kiss across Azzi’s knuckles, “it’s nothing we can’t get through.”

Azzi nods as she pulls into the school parking lot, mustering up a reassuring smile of her own as she squeezes Paige’s hand. But there’s still a speck of fear dancing around in her gut; it’s this constant fear of losing Paige again that she doesn’t think she’ll ever truly be able to sweep out of her system. They’ve been doing so good these last few weeks -like they’re collecting together the scattered pages of everything we used to be and binding them back together with strings of all that we can become- but sometimes Azzi finds herself afraid that it might all just disappear, that a gust of wind might blow everything out of her hands all over again. 

“HI MAMA. HI MISS BUECKS,” she’s shaken from her thoughts by the backdoor opening as Stephie barrels into the car, the happiness in her voice contagious as she leans over the console to kiss Azzi and then Paige, before hanging between them and tapping at her own cheeks. The two adults laugh as they simultaneously press their lips to the little girl's cheeks, causing her dimples to deepen as she giggles between them. 

“How was school Stephie-bean?” Paige asks, peering over her own shoulder to make sure Stephie buckles herself in correctly as Azzi backs the car out. 

Stephie scrunches up her nose is distaste, “it’s school Miss Buecks. It was so boring. Except for lunch. Lunch was great. I love lunch.”

“You’re so real Steph,” Paige nods seriously, “lunch is the best and school is so bor-”

“Paige!”

“C’mon Az, I’m not gonna lie to the kid.”

“Exactly Mama,” Stephie chimes in loyally from the backseat, “lying is bad.”

Azzi rolls her eyes as Paige twists her hand to hold it out for Stephie to high-five it from the backseat, “the two of you are insufferable.”

“What does that mean?” Stephie asks, tilting her head in confusion. 

“It means we’re her most favorite people in the world,” Paige winks at the little girl as Azzi shakes her head fondly, choosing to keep the you’re more than that, you two are the reason my world keeps turning that tastes sugary sweet on the tip of her tongue to herself as she continues to drive. 

“What do y’all want for dinner?” she asks instead, ready to make a mental note of ingredients she might need to pick up from the grocery store while Paige and Stephie are at Curry Camp. 

“Actually,” there’s a slight nervous lilt to Paige’s voice and when Azzi looks over, she finds the older woman fidgeting anxiously with her thumbs, “I was thinking that maybe um- maybe y’all could come over to mine tonight? Maybe I can cook?”

They haven’t stayed at Paige’s since that first disastrous night. It hadn’t been on purpose per say; it was simply just easier to stay at Azzi’s, especially with Stephie to consider but perhaps a part of it had been subconscious self-preservation on the younger girl's part. Something about sleeping over at Paige’s feels more purposeful; like she’s fully letting herself step back into the other’s girl world and this time with the promise to not run away in the morning. It’s scary but when Azzi sees the hopeful look on Paige’s face as the blonde bites her lips, she thinks it’s worth it to take the leap; she’s ready for it. 

“I think that would be nice,” she says with a soft smile, “I’ll pick up some clothes for Stephie while y’all are at camp.”

Paige beams and Azzi can tell she’s itching to lean over to grab her hand or kiss her touch her in any way but there’s still the little fact they still haven’t quite told Stephie anything about them yet that stops her from doing any of the above. 

“What do you think of that Stephie bean? You wanna have a sleepover at my place tonight?” she redirects her attention to the little girl instead. 

“YES PLEASE,” Stephie squeals, practically bouncing on her car seat before a frown crosses her forehead, “but um-” she hesitates, “you um- you can’t cook Miss Buecks.”

Azzi bursts into a laughter as an offended look clouds Paige’s face, “excuse me? I absolutely can cook.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie says, her condescension-filled tone as adult as she can make it be, “you burned my eggs three times this week and then Mama had to make them all over again and we were almost late for school,” the little girl smirks through her ramble, “but that’s okay because I don’t mind being late for school because like I said school is really boring.”

“Okay but what about the one time I didn’t burn the eggs?” Paige haughtily crosses her arms over chest, “have we all just forgotten about that?”

“Pretty sure they were a little undercooked and saltless that one time-OW,” Azzi’s snicker is cut off by a pinch to her stomach, “do you want me to crash the car woman?”

Paige ignores her, turning back to look at Stephie with a betrayed expression, “you said you liked them?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feeling Miss Buecks,” the little girl wails and Azzi feels a mix of pride and love bloom in her heart at the kind soul she’s raised, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I just-” Stephie reaches as far as her seatbelt will allow to cup Paige’s hand in her tiny hands, “I really don’t think you should cook Miss Buecks.Please. I don’t wanna die yet. I’m too cute to die.”

“You know what Stephie bean,” Paige taps the little girl’s nose, “I think you might be even more of a drama queen than me-”

“Don’t sound so proud,” Azzi mutters under her breath. 

“Shhh,” Paige chastises, never looking away from Stephie, “but alright sweetheart. I won’t cook. How about we order pizza?”

Stephie lets out a delighted cheer as Azzi grumbles, “more junk food? I swear to god Bueckers you’re completely ruining her diet.”

“On the contrary, I think I’m finally fixing it. You poor thing,” Paige coos at Stephie dramatically, “I bet your Mama was torturing you with nasty green things all day every day before me huh?”

“No no no Miss Buecks, veggies are good for you,” Stephie recites loyally and Azzi grins triumphantly at Paige. 

“Oh dear Stephie you’ve been brainwashed-”

“Excuse me? Don’t try to corrupt my child out of her good habits.”

“I’m not corrupting her,” Paige defends as Azzi makes a left turn into the parking lot for Curry Camp, “I’m just teaching her the wonders of grease and oil and all the other fun things that adults lie are bad for you.”

“Paige you are an adult.”

“But a fun one,” Paige smirks, waggling her eyebrows at Stephie through the mirror as Azzi stops the car right outside the building, “right Stephie-bean?”

“The fun-est-est-est-est,” Stephie choruses back as she begins to unbuckle herself so she can latch onto her mother’s neck from behind. Paige takes the opportunity to climb out of the car so she can grab Stephie’s sports bag from where it’s kept in the trunk.

“You be good for Miss Buecks and Uncle Twin at camp today okay?” Azzi whispers to the little girl, “and I better hear that you made all your shots.”

Stephie scoffs, “you know I never miss Mama.”

“That’s my girl,” Azzi grins as she nuzzles her nose against the little girl’s before Paige opens the backdoor and Stephie unlatches herself from her mother, only so she can go barrelling into the older woman’s arms instead, “Stephie-bean you know you can walk.”

“But Mama,” Stephie whines, wrapping her hands tightly around Paige’s neck, “I’m too tired to walk-”

“Stephie,” Azzi sighs. 

“You don’t mind carrying me, do you Miss Buecks?”

“Of course not,” Paige grins, “whatever you want sweetheart.”

Stephie looks pointedly at Azzi, “see Mama? Miss Buecks doesn’t mind.”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Azzi shakes her head, “alright off you two go. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

“Bye Mama,” Stephie waves, “hurry back okay? We’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you guys too,” Azzi says warmly, blowing a kiss at both of them. 

It’s uncanny how similar the two of them are, when both Stephie and Paige make a show of catching the kiss and bringing it to their heart before looking at each other and giggling over their own silliness. It makes Azzi’s heartache in the best way possible. And as she watches the two of them start walking up the stairs, Stephie rambling and Paige hanging onto every word, she thinks that as long as life gives her the two of them, she’ll never ask for anything else. 

***

The first thing Azzi notices when she walks into the gym, arriving a little before camp finishes so she can say hi to her mentor, is Stephie sulking as she glares at Paige from the other side of the court. Confused, because it’s rare to see her daughter looking at the other woman with anything but pure adulation, Azzi follows the little girl’s line of sight to see what could possibly have upset her. A fond smile crosses her face as she sees Paige crowded by a bunch of children, all of them watching the superstar with wonder as she demonstrates her shooting technique. Paige swishes the ball into the basket and one would think she’d just scored the game-winning shot in the finals, by the way the gaggle of kids around her let out enthused cheers. 

The blonde has always had this aura that draws people to her -Azzi would know; she’d been one of the first people to succumb to it (not that she’d put up much of a fight)- but there’s something different about the charisma Paige has with kids. Perhaps it’s because of her own childlike innocence that’s still intact despite her age, but it’s clear that the little ones adore her. Azzi watches as one of the little girls animatedly tries to mimic what Paige had just demonstrated, looking upset when the basketball barely touches the rim. 

“I’m never gonna make a basket,” she hears the girl pout. 

Paige ruffles the kid’s hair before lifting her up onto her lap, “of course you are. You just needed a little bit more height. Here try again,” she says as she urges the girl to shoot again now that she’s higher off the ground. This time the ball falls magnificently through the hoop and the child whoops. 

“OH MY GOD COACH P I DID IT,” she squeals, hiding her face in Paige’s neck and while Azzi finds the whole thing quite adorable, when she looks over, she realizes that clearly Stephie is not nearly amused as she watches her daughter’s face transform into a scowl. 

“Riley and Ryan used to make the same face any time I gave another little girl too much of my time,” Azzi grins as Steph appears by her side, the former Warriors guard bumping her shoulder as a sign of greeting, “I split the kids into groups, half with Paige and half with me. Kept Stephie with me cause you know I thought I was her favorite but she’s been glaring at all the kids with Paige this whole time.”

“She’s uh- she’s a little possessive,” Azzi chuckles, eyes still on her daughter who finally looks away from Paige, before angrily shooting the ball at the lowered basket in front of her. 

“NICE SHOT TWIN NIECE,” Steph cheers as Stephie makes the shot, the little girl’s face unmoving as she gathers the ball back and gets ready to shoot again. Sometimes Azzi thinks, as she claps with pride, her daughter’s laser-focus attitude might rival her own. Maybe it’s a mother’s bias -she’d call it intuition- but she’s certain Stephie’s going to be a basketball phenomenon one day. 

“That was so pretty Stephie-bean,” Paige is beaming as she approaches Stephie, the little girl from before holding her hand, “you think you can show Claudia here how you get that arc on it?”

“No thank you Coach Bueckers,” Stephie’s voice is perfectly polite as she makes a point to not look at the two people who’ve just entered her space, but Azzi catches the split second when her gaze shifts irritatedly to the way Claudia’s hanging off of Paige, “I’m a little busy right now. Maybe another time.”

“Oh she’s good,” Steph whistles lowly as Paige’s mouth falls open at not being referred to as Miss Buecks, “she’s gonna have Paige groveling after camp I bet. She’s gonna get whatever treat she wants.” 

Azzi groans, “that is not a good thing. Do you know how much junk food she manipulates Paige into getting her?”

Steph laughs, “she spoils her huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Azzi mutters but there’s a wistful grin on her face, “It’s part of why Stephie adores her so much cause she knows Paige would give her the world if she could.”

“I don’t think it’s just Stephie who adores her,” Steph bumps his shoulder against her and Azzi blanches at the knowing tone in his voice. 

“That’s not- I mean- I don’t- I don’t know what you mean,” she stutters out. 

Steph rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, “oh come off it Az. It was obvious when y’all were kids and it’s still obvious now.”

“When we were- you knew?” 

“Of course I knew,” Steph scoffs, “I’ve been married for more than 20 years to the same girl I fell in love with at 15 years old Az, I know a thing or two about what love looks like. Of course I knew.”

“I’m just getting clocked left right and center today what the hell,” she grumbles but there’s a part of her that’s slightly relieved about the people around them slowly figuring it out. She thinks she should maybe be a little more embarrassed about how obvious they apparently are -have supposedly always been- but honestly she kind of loves that their love is so bright, that it’s impossible to not see it. 

Love. The word sends a shiver through Azzi. It’s not a foreign feeling to her at all, especially not when it comes to Paige. If she’s honest with herself, it’s a feeling that has never left. She’d tried as hard as she could; shoving it underneath a rock of you’re not allowed to feel this way that weighed heavily against her chest. But it had always been there and as soon as Paige had waltzed her way back into Azzi’s life, the blonde seemed to have found a way to shovel it right back out. And that four-letter-word isn’t buried anymore; it’s right there on the tip of her tongue and every time Paige smiles at her -eyes crinkling with only for you-, Azzi’s this close to let it slip through her lips. She’s just waiting for the right time.

“Hey Stephie-bean can I fix your form a little bit,” her attention is drawn back to her surroundings as she watches Paige try to get Stephie to look at her again but her daughter is nothing if not stubborn. 

“That’s okay. It’s almost time to go home and I’m sure Uncle Twin can help me with my form Coach Bueckers,” the little girl says contemptuously to a gobsmacked Paige before gesturing at Claudia, “how about you just keep helping her instead.”

“Sheesh that’s one petty kid you’ve got there Fudd,” Steph remarks before stepping to the front of the court and blowing his whistle, “alright y’all it’s 5 o’clock. Great job today! I hope you guys had a lot of fun and learned some good stuff and I’ll see y’all back here tomorrow!”

The former player diligently high-fives all the kids before they disperse towards their awaiting parents. Azzi can tell Stephie���s still irritated when the little girl barely hugs Steph, shaking herself out of her Uncle’s arms much quicker than she normally would as she all but stomps her way to her mother. 

“Woah there Stephie-bean,” Azzi says gently, falling to her knees in front of her daughter, “what’s wrong?”

Stephie pouts miserably, “I’m mad at Miss Buecks. She’s been helping other kids this whole time.”

Azzi has to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling, amused by the child’s dramatics, “baby you know that’s Miss Buecks’s job right? She’s here to coach all the kids.”

If possible, Stephie’s frown deepens as she kicks her feet stubbornly, “she can coach them,” she says matter-of-factly, “but why does she have to carry them and give them hugs. She should only do that with me.”

“Stephie-”

“And camp is over now and she’s still with stupid Claudia,” Stephie whines as she uses her hand to turn Azzi’s face towards Paige, “see?”

The we don’t call people stupid lesson that she was just about to give her daughter dies on Azzi’s lips as her eyes fixate on where a stupid pretty young woman who she knows to be Claudia’s mother is staring up at Paige with a stupid flirty smile. Azzi has no idea what the blonde is saying, but she’s sure it can’t be that funny to make the woman tilt her head back in laughter, left hand reaching out to flick Paige’s bicep and lingering far longer than necessary. 

“You know what Stephie-bean I think it’s time to home,” and really she feels just a little guilty with how she’s about to use her clearly upset daughter, “how about you go call Miss Buecks over.”

That’s all it takes to get Stephie running towards her and Azzi follows cautiously behind, only getting further irritated at how Claudia’s mother seems determined to step closer and closer to Paige and the clueless blonde does absolutely nothing to stop it, continuing to smile politely at the other woman. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie comes to a halt in front of Paige, interrupting whatever conversation was going on as she practically forces herself in between the two women, “Mama says it’s time to go home.”

Despite the jealousy simmering her heart, Azzi can’t help that her heart skips a beat at the way Paige’s whole face brightens up at seeing Stephie; clearly relieved at the little girl using her nickname again. 

“Give me one second sweetheart. I’m just a little busy talking to Claudia and her mother-”

“Mama,” Stephie says loudly, cutting Paige off as she turns to Azzi, “do you know if Aunty Chérie is in town?”

“Um- I- uh-” the brunette stutters, not having expected her little girl to bring that up as her gaze flickers towards a frozen Paige whose smile is completely gone, her body going rigid at the mention of Clémence.

“I was just thinking,” Stephie barrels on casually, “maybe we could go see her and she could give me cuddles and kisses since app-ently Miss Buecks is too busy to give them to me-”

The little girl cuts herself off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted off the ground and into Paige’s arms; the blonde peppering her lips against every inch of Stephie’s face. 

“Never ever too busy for you and I’m especially never too busy to give you kisses Stephie-bean.”

“Promise,” Stephie holds out her pinky finger and Paige diligently intertwines her own through it, pressing a kiss to their now interlocked pinkies. 

“Promise.”

Shaking her head fondly at her menace daughter’s antiques, Azzi fixes Claudia’s mother with a sweetly saccharine smile as she wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep. She can feel the blonde’s eyes immediately drift towards her, clearly a little thrown off by her forwardness. It had been Azzi’s go-to-move in college whenever Paige’s fanclub would get a little too handsy. She’d sidle up into her girlfriend’s space, marking her territory as subtly as possible. Azzi knows this is a little different. It had been easier back then to play the action off as a protective best friend  warding off boundary-less fans; really it was uncanny the things two girls could get away with under the guise of friendship. But it’s different now that they’re actual adults and she can see the clogs running Claudia’s mother’s head as she starts to piece everything together. 

“Hi I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Stephie’s mom, Azzi, nice to meet you,” Azzi says finally, holding out her hand that isn’t still clasped firmly around Paige’s bicep, “I think it’s usually your husband who picks Claudia up from camp right?”

“I’m Stacie,” the woman says, primly returning the handshake, “yeah my husband’s usually the one who picks her up but I had a little time today-”

“Don’t lie Mommy. I heard you on the phone saying you wanted to come pick me up so you could meet Coach Bueckers-”

“Claudia,” Stacie hisses as Azzi narrows her eyes at the woman. 

“You said it’s cause you think she’s really hot-” Claudia manages to get out before her mother furiously clamps her hand over her mouth. 

“Azzi,” Paige whispers under her breath, wincing slightly as the shooting guard unconsciously tightens her grip, unable to keep the irritation of her face as she all but glares at Claudia’s mother. 

“You know kids, they say anything,” Stacie tries to justify, cowering under the sintering heat of Azzi’s stare. 

“Right,” the brunette nods with faux understanding, “well if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time for us to go unless-” she turns her gaze onto Paige who looks innocently back at her as she hides a smile against Stephie’s stomach, “unless you’re still busy that is?”

Paige shakes her head affectionately as she tugs her arm out of Azzi’s grip, only so she can lock their pinkies together, the angle of it just out of Stephie’s line of sight, “never too busy for you,” she repeats, “let’s go.”

*** 

“Mama, will you tell Miss Buecks that I’m not speaking to her,” Stephie says as soon as the three of them get settled into the car. 

“What,” Paige shrieks, twisting her head around to look at the little girl who decisively looks away, her tiny hands crossed over her chest. 

“Stephie,” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, stretching her legs out in the passenger seat; Paige had insisted on driving this time and she hadn’t bothered fighting against it, “babes I thought you’d gotten over it? You were literally just talking to her.”

“That’s cause I forgot I was mad when Miss Buecks gave me my kisses but I rem-ber now,” Stephie explains. 

“Remember what?” Paige asks frantically, “Stephie-bean what did I do?”

The little girl in question makes it a point to turn her nose up and look directly at Azzi as she answers, “Mama will you tell Miss Buecks that she knows what she did.”

“I really, really don’t. Stephie sweetheart please tell me so I can fix it,” Paige tries again, and Azzi lets herself marvel at how the normally jittery-woman seems to have endless patience for her little girl. 

“YOU GAVE THE OTHER KIDS HIGH FIVES AND CUDDLES AND HUGS AND YOU EVEN LET CLAUDIA ONTO YOUR LAP,” Stephie bursts out emphatically, “you’re not supposed to do that with anyone but ME.”

“I-” Paige looks over helplessly at Azzi who holds her hands up in surrender, determined not to get in between the two of them and their dramatics. 

“You didn’t even ask Uncle Twin to let me be on your team,” Stephie accuses and then like she’s suddenly remembered that she’d made a bold assertion a couple of minutes ago, “Mama could you please tell Miss Buecks that I said all of that.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I have a feeling she might have heard you.”

“Did you like the other kid’s hugs more than you like mine?” the little girl prods, her eyes suddenly glimmering with tears. 

“Oh sweetheart of course not,” Paige consoles immediately, “I could never like anyone’s hugs more than yours, you know that. Your hugs are the best things in the whole wide world. And Stephie-bean, I thought you wanted to be with Uncle Twin, you said you missed him.”

“Wanted to be with you more,” Stephie pouts stubbornly, “I don’t wanna share my Miss Buecks with the other kids. I don’t want you to hug them or carry them and you definitely can’t give them kisses.”

“I didn’t even give any of them kisses,” Paige protests. 

“Stephie, Miss Buecks is a person, not an object. She’s allowed to hug or carry or kiss-” Azzi tries to explain but is almost immediately interrupted by Stephie who gives her an unamused look. 

“Well is she allowed to hug and carry and kiss Claudia’s Mama then?”

Azzi’s mouth falls open as Paige barely holds in her chuckle at the little girl’s cheeky question, “she absolutely is not allowed to do that.”

“Exactly,” there’s a satisfied grin on Stephie's face as she takes in the still dumbfounded expression on her mother’s face. 

“I just- I meant the kids. She’s allowed to hug or carry or kiss the kids-”

“NO SHE’S NOT.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Paige moves her hands up and down in a calming gesture before she reaches for Stephie hands, “how about this? From now on, I won’t carry any of the other kids and I definitely won’t give them any kisses. But can I at least give them one hug? Just one tiny little hug?”

Stephie ponders over the request for a second, “okay,” she agrees finally, “but only one hug and it can’t be longer than three seconds okay? And then you come and give me three of them right after?”

“Done. I’ll come give you five hugs right after,” Paige grins happily as the two of them shake on it before she turns back around to start driving them towards her house.  

“Mama you can tell Miss Buecks that I’m speaking to her again,” Stephie smiles toothily at Azzi through the rearview mirror. 

“Really?” Azzi responds sarcastically, “I couldn't have guessed.”

“You know,” Paige drops her voice so Stephie can’t hear them, “you’re being pretty sassy for someone who was just as irrationally jealous as a five year old a couple of minutes ago.”

“I was not jealous,” Azzi says indignantly, repeating herself when Paige’s smirk deepens, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Paige, I was absolutely not jealous.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige hums quietly as she turns the music up in the car, grinning at Stephie through the mirror when one of their new favorites comes on. 

Azzi preemptively covers her ears as her soft “oh please don’t start singing-” is immediately drowned out by the two other people in the car beginning to sing at the top of their voices. They barely know the lyrics and they’re definitely not on key and really Azzi’s poor ears are bleeding, but as she’s coerced into reluctantly joining in, she thinks this could still be her favorite sound in the whole wide world. 

They’re so enthralled in their cacophony -in each other- as they pull up to Paige’s house, that it takes them a far longer than it should to notice the figure on her porch. It isn’t until they’ve parked in the driveway, and Azzi’s gone around to grab her and Stephie’s overnight bag from the back while Paige lifts Stephie onto her shoulders, and they’re finally making their way up the three steps that lead to the deck, that they finally do. 

All chatter comes to a halt as the boy -well that’s not quite right; not when he towers over Paige and Azzi as he stands up from where he’d been sitting on the lawn chair. It’s been almost four years since she’d last seen him in person and even then he’d been a fleeting face in the crowd. She’s seen plenty of his clips from the rookie year he’d just finished in the NBA but it isn’t the same as seeing him in the flesh now. So much has changed; the baby fat is gone from his face, he’s lankier and longer and there’s a discernible aura of confidence around him; as is expected from a 20 year old man. Yet, as Azzi lets her gaze wander over him, she sees what she’s always seen. She sees that same innocence, that same kindness, that same drive in his eyes that she’d always found reflected in his sister’s eyes too. She looks at him and she still sees a mini version of her Paige. 

*** 

October 2022 

“AZZI,” Drew screams as he runs across the arrival gate, his carry-on suitcase practically abandoned for the flight attendant with him to begrudgingly pick up. 

“DREW,” Azzi’s smile widens as the little boy comes to a halt in front of her, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, “oh my god you’ve gotten so much bigger little dude.”

Drew scrunches his nose up at her, “you literally saw me like a month ago.”

“And I think you might have doubled in size since,” she ruffles his hair before turning to the flight attendant who’s not so subtly checking her out, “thank you so much for getting him here safely.”

“Oh just doing my duty m’am, especially for a pretty lady like you,” the man says and Azzi winces at his dated flirting technique. 

“This is Azzi,” Drew introduces, irritation seeping into his voice as he tightens his grip on Azzi’s waist, “you know how I told you I’m flying out for my sister’s birthday, this is my sister’s girlfriend and it was her idea to fly me out to surprise my sister. Because you know she’s her girlfriend.”

“Right,” the man grimaces and Azzi has to bite back the laugh threatening to escape as he hastily hands Drew’s suitcase over before barely managing a half-hearted grin, “I um- uh- well I should get back to the uh- plane or something. Tell your- tell your sister happy birthday.”

“Thanks again,” Azzi calls after the man as he all but runs away from them, shaking her head fondly down at Drew who’s giggling into her side. 

“You think if I tell Paige he flirted with you, she’d get him fired?” he asks cheekily. 

“There’s a nonzero chance that she’d at least try,” Azzi agrees as the two of them start making their way out of the airport and towards her car. 

It’s a chilly fall morning and the sun has barely risen in the sky but Drew seems more awake than ever as he practically bounces into the passenger seat, clearly excited to see his sister who has no inkling that he’s coming. The idea had come to Azzi a week or so ago as she’d racked her head for ideas of what to do for Paige for her birthday. She’d done a good job putting up a front for the rest of their team -avidly cheering for them from the sidelines during practice- but Paige had been struggling these last couple of weeks. Azzi knows firsthand what it’s like to watch everyone else play the sport she loves while nursing her own injury and no matter how many i’m fine don’t worry about me spiels she got from her girlfriend, Azzi knew it was killing the point guard to not be out there with their team. 

If she could, Azzi would have liked to have miraculously fixed Paige’s torn ACL as her birthday gift but that was wishful thinking. So instead she’d decided on cheering Paige up with the other thing she loved more than playing basketball: spending time with her baby brother. It didn't take that much convincing to get Bob Bueckers -who’d seen just how despondent his daughter had been those first couple of weeks in that gloomy hotel- to allow Drew to take the first half of this week off of school. From then on, the main difficulty had been keeping it a secret from Paige who seemed to have sixth sense for when something was going on behind her back. It didn’t help that Drew had come close to spilling the beans more than a handful of times. But they’d somehow managed it and this morning, Azzi had rolled out of her girlfriend’s arms much earlier than she would have liked to, ready to give Paige the day she deserved. 

She glances at the clock. It’s almost 8 and Azzi knows that Paige is probably beginning to stir awake. She can almost picture the likely confusion on her girlfriend’s as she’d reach out for Azzi, only to find the spot next to her empty. As if on cue, the sound of a phone ringing vibrates around the car and Drew’s eyes light up at Paige’s name flashing on the media-board. 

“Don’t say a word,” Azzi warns him as she picks up the call. 

“WHAT THE HELL AZZI. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Paige’s irritated voice echoes throughout the car, “DO YOU KNOW HOW RUDE IT IS TO MAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAKE UP ALONE IN THE MORNING? ON HER GODDAMN BIRTHDAY?”

Despite Azzi’s warning, Drew snickers loud enough for the speakers to pick it up  and the brunette fights the urge to hit her head against the steering wheel when Paige lets out a dramatic gasp. 

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU WITH ANOTHER GIRL. ON MY BIRTHDAY?”

“No Paige I am not with another girl-”

“Well it sounds like there’s a girl with you.”

Drew opens his mouth to protest, clearly agitated with his voice potentially being mistaken for a girl’s but Azzi’s quicker, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth. 

“I am not with-”

“Wait. Why did that voice sound so familiar?” Paige asks and Azzi can picture her scrunching her nose through the phone, “it can’t be any of the girls. I think I saw all of them in their apartments while I was looking for you but it sounds so-”

“It’s no one,” Azzi says hurriedly, “I’m just picking up something for your birthday.”

“I don’t want anything for my birthday,” Paige grumbles, “just wanted to wake up to my beautiful gorgeous girlfriend but no, you couldn’t just let me have that.”

A soft blush, tinted with hues of you make my imperfection feel perfect, creeps up Azzi’s cheeks as Drew teasingly waggles his eyebrows at her, “I promise I have something even better for you.”

“What could possibly be better than morning se-”

“Celebratory cuddles. Right yes what could be better than morning celebratory cuddles,” Azzi babbles, ignoring the weird look Drew gives her as she tries to prevent them from falling in the ditch her girlfriend is unknowingly about throw them into, “oh my won’t you look at that, that sign has all the reasons I shouldn’t try to talk and drive.”

“Baby what? Are you having a stroke. That’s not a thing-

“Oh it totally is and I really have to hang up. Love you baby, see you soon!’

“Azzi-” a loud beep rings through Paige’s protests as Azzi rushes to cut the call, slumping back in her seat with a sigh. 

“Morning celebratory cuddles?” if she wasn’t so embarrassed she would laugh at the side-eye Drew shoots her, “y’all are so weird.”

“Watch it. I will send you back to Minnesota.”

“No you won't,” it’s uncanny how Drew has Paige’s exact smile as he goofily grins at her, “you love Paigey way too much to do that to me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, “yeah maybe just a little bit.” 

There’s peaceful silence in the car for a while as Drew leans back in his seat, looking thoughtfully out the window. Azzi feels excitement bubble in her stomach in anticipation for Paige’s reaction to seeing her little brother. For as long as she’s known her girlfriend, she’s always known just how special Drew is to her; he’d been more a child to her than a brother and although it hasn’t been that long since Paige has seen him, Azzi could still hear the wistfulness in her voice every night she’d said good-bye to him on the phone. She feels giddy just knowing that seeing Drew again will put that earnest, loving smile she loves so much on Paige’s face. That smile, Azzi thinks, might just be the reason her world keeps turning. 

“Hey Azzi?” Drew says slowly, “can I ask you something?”

“Course you can kid. You can ask me whatever you want,” Azzi reaches out to squeeze the little boy’s hand as he fidgets in his seat. 

“Do you-” he hesitates, sucking in a deep breath, “do you think two people can stay together forever?”

Azzi’s taken aback by the gravity of the question, not having expected to deal with heavy-hitting ones like this so early in the morning. And really the truth is Azzi doesn’t know how to answer this question. It’s the kind of question her own brain conjures up sometimes and she has to distract herself from the way it makes her heart constrict because what if two people can’t stay together forever?

“That’s a heavy question,” she says finally, “where’s this coming from?”

Drew shrugs and his tone teeters on the edge of defensiveness when he answers, “just some things I think about sometimes.”

“I don’t know,” she says carefully, “I’d like to think some people can. I mean my parents have been together for a really long time and I’d like to think they’ll stay together forever.”

“How about you and Paigey?” Drew prods. 

There’s an answer of yes that tastes like asphalt on the top of Azzi’s tongue and so much of her wants to spit it out and have that be the answer she gives Drew. But there are these uneasy shackles of uncertainty, of what if’s, of who knows what the future could do to us, that stops her. And she doesn’t know why she’s so scared of saying yes. Because if she’s honest with herself Azzi can’t really fathom a forever without her girlfriend; not when sometimes it feels like instead of a heart, it’s Paige that beats rhythmically against her ribcage. 

“I really, really hope so,” she whispers. 

“Azzi,” Drew’s voice is coated in sincerity and the brunette hums in response, “you won’t ever hurt my Paigey will you?”

And there it is again, the unpredictability of what could happen next that’s beginning to feel a little suffocating. She wants to give Drew a resounding no because Azzi would rather drive a dagger through her skin before letting Paige get so much as a paper cut but life is so fickle and she’s scared of making a promise she can’t keep. So she makes one that she swears she can. 

“I promise that I will try my absolute best not to hurt your Paigey.”

***

May 2033 

“Well,” Drew Bueckers sneers, his tone filled with contempt as he takes in the way Paige, Azzi and Stephie are practically wrapped into each other, don’t you guys just look so fucking cozy.”

There’s a sinister tension-filled quiet as the three adults -god it’s weird to include Drew as an adult but Azzi supposes that that’s what he is now- look between each other. 

“Umm you owe me a kiss,” Stephie cuts into the silence.

“What?” Drew scrunches his face at the little girl. 

“You said a bad word,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “and Mama says whenever someone says a bad word around me, they have to give me a kiss. So Miss Buecks,” Drew's eyes narrow at the nickname as the little girl lightly taps Paige’s shoulder, “can you turn around and move closer so he can give me a kiss?”

“You don’t, you don’t have to do that-” Azzi tries to intervene. 

“Yes he does Mama,” Stephie interupts her indignantly, “rules are rules right?’

“Stephie-”

“Rules are rules,” it’s Drew who cuts Azzi off this time, his previously stoic face morphing into something warmer as he takes a step closer to her daughter and presses his lips against her turned cheek, “there you go. Am I forgiven for saying a bad word now?”

Stephie grins up at him and Azzi feels a wave of this is how it always should have been pinching at her heart she watches the two of them. 

“You’re forgiven but you have to promise not to do it again.”

“I don’t make promises like that kid,” there’s an unspoken accusation as Drew keeps up a smile towards Stephie but his eyes dart for the briefest second towards the two women around him, “but I promise I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Stephie accepts happily as she reaches over Paige’s shoulder to press her own lips against Drew’s cheek. 

“What was that for?’ he asks a little dazedly. 

Stephie shrugs, “because I think I’m gonna like you.”

“Drew,” Paige whispers finally, gently letting the little girl off of her shoulders, “what are you- what are you doing here?”

“What? A guy can’t just come visit his sister anymore?” there’s an unfamiliar hard edge to Drew’s voice -a stark contrast from how he’d been with Stephie- that makes Azzi flinch. 

“Of course he can but I just- you didn’t- you didn’t tell me you were coming,” Paige presses. 

“Well we've been talking about me coming down for a while but it just hasn’t happened and so I thought- I thought why not just come surprise you but-” Drew purses his lips as he gestures to the trio in front of him, “I think I might be the one who’s surprised.”

“Drew-”

“Actually you know what no,” he clenches his jaw, voice dripping with barely controlled anger, “I’m actually not surprised. Not surprised at all. Because really this- this is exactly what I should have expected from the two of you.”

“Maybe,” Azzi nibbles at her bottom, “maybe we should go-’

“NO,” both Stephie and Paige yell out in tandem as the little girl immediately clutches onto the blonde’s thighs. 

“I don’t wanna go. Miss Buecks tell Mama I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re staying right here with me,” Paige reassures the little girl as she turns her gaze back to Azzi, “you’re not going anywhere okay?”

“Paige-”

“I asked you to stay tonight and you’re going to stay. End of discussion,” Paige says firmly and Azzi lets out a reluctant sight. 

“You asked her to stay? As in stay the night? Oh my god,” Drew scoffs maliciously. 

“Drew,” there’s a warning tone in Paige’s voice as she deattaches herself from Stephie, keeping her voice low, “not right now okay?”

Her brother rolls his eyes, grunting out a “whatever,” but listening to his older sister like he always had and suddenly Azzi feels nostalgic for the little boy she had once known. 

“You’re so tall,” she blurts out, grimacing slightly when he turns to her with a frown. 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean I knew that. I’ve seen some of your highlights and I knew I mean- I knew you were taller and that you’ve gotten bigger and that you’d look stronger and all of that but I just-” Azzi gulps between her babbling, “you just- you look different Drew.”

There’s a shine of warmth in Drew’s gaze for a second but it flickers away faster than it had appeared and his eyes are cold with flecks of betrayal as he looks at Azzi, “that’s what happens as people get older isn’t it? I wouldn’t look so different to you if you’d been around to see me grow up.”

There’s venom laced in every word and Paige immediately opens her mouth to argue with him, but Azzi wraps a hand around her wrist to stop her. Because even if the words seep into her skin and infect it with bruises of guilt and regret, Azzi thinks she probably deserves them. She’d been in Drew’s world for so long and then one day, she just hadn’t been. She thinks he probably could have spewed something even more poisonous and she just might have deserved that too. 

“Are you sleeping over too, Uncle Drew?” Stephie asks softly, unaffected by the tenseness of the adults around her. 

“Uncle Drew?” Drew asks slowly. 

Stephie nods with a grin, “Miss Buecks called you Drew and that’s when I figured it out. Mama and Miss Buecks have told me stories about you and there’s some pictures of you from when you were littler at Nana and Pop's house,” she rambles and Drew’s eyes soften at the idea of Stephie knowing of his existence, “ and just in case you don’t know who I am even though you should,” she gives him a pointed look as if everyone should know who the little girl is, “I’m Stephie. And you’re my Miss Buecks’s brother so that means you’re my Uncle Drew.”

“Right that um-” Drew clears his throats, “that makes sense Stephie.”

“So Uncle Drew, are you sleeping over too?”

“Yeah, yeah I guess I am.”

“YAY!” Stephie squeals as she laces her fingers through Drew and begins to pull him towards the front door, “so Uncle Drew what’s your favorite pizza topping?”

Something wonderful flutters in Azzi’s chest as she watches the two of them interact -it’s a little bit like seeing the past and present harmonically blend into one- but despite that, despite the reassurance that Paige squeezes against her hand, there’s an uneasiness lingering in the back of her mind. That wretched but familiar fear of the future weaves itself through her heart. Between the frostiness from Drew and whatever secret Paige is keeping from her, Azzi can’t help but wonder if these last couple of weeks had simply been a mirage. She can’t help but wonder if this bubble of happiness that they’ve built is about to be burst by a needle of circumstance again. 

[goodstuffhappenedtoday]

Louisiana students who solved the Pythagorean theorem discover nine more solutions to it

Two New Orleans students who solved the Pythagorean theorem using trigonometry have had their discovery confirmed by the math community after their findings were published in the American Mathematical Monthly this week, solidifying their proofs. And if solving Pythagoras' theorem wasn't challenging enough, the young women, now college freshmen, also discovered nine more solutions to the problem. Ne'Kiya Jackson and Calcea Johnson, former St. Mary's Academy students, presented their discovery to the American Mathematical Society in Atlanta back in March of 2023. This October, their solutions were peer-reviewed and thoroughly investigated to confirm what many in the math community never could have imagined — the theorem could be solved by using trigonometry.  Many papers submitted to the mathematics journal are often turned down. But after careful consideration and scrutiny, Jackson and Johnson's paper was approved for publication. Jackson and Johnson found the first proof to the equation during their senior year of high school while working tirelessly over their holiday break to solve a bonus question in a math contest. Once deemed impossible, the two students overcame a failure of logic referred to as circular reasoning. But, in their new study, Johnson and Jackson went even further, providing nine other proofs, or solutions to the theorem.  Since the foundation of trigonometry relies on the fact that the Pythagorean Theorem is true, the mathematics community believed using trigonometry to prove the theorem would be unworkable. But it wasn't.  ... Their findings are testament to the idea that dedication pays off.

More at the link

[szariahwroteit]

Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Orginal Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 1

Although Victoria lived and breathed ballet, her passion could not overshadow the toll the art form exacted on her body and soul. The rigorous discipline of dance had transported her halfway across the globe, where she faced myriad challenges as a young woman striving to discover her identity while navigating the complexities of life.

“Perfection!” exclaimed Margaux, the esteemed choreographer of the dance company, her eyes scrutinizing every movement as she observed the dancers performing their routine with acute precision.

As Tori glided across the polished wooden floor, her thighs burned with exertion and her arms felt weighty, a testament to the countless hours of practice. Each leap and pirouette required immense concentration, her breath coming in quick, shallow wafts as she focused intently on maintaining her form. The crescendo of the music reverberated through the studio, guiding her movements toward the grand finale of the dance.

“¡Excelente!” Margaux called out, her accent thick and voice bright with enthusiasm as she applauded, pivoting on the balls of her feet with infectious energy. As Tori and the other dancers approached their belongings, fatigue lingered in their limbs, but a shared glow of accomplishment shone in their eyes, a silent acknowledgement of the artistry they had poured into their performance.

“I'm so tired,” Tori huffed as she took a seat beside her bag, pulling her pointe shoes from her feet before stretching them, letting out a groan of relief as her toes finally escaped the confines of the tight-fitting shoes. “I didn’t think today’s rehearsal would be so intense.”

“Are you coming to the gala tonight?” one of the other dancers asked as she turned to look at Tori, who sat on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her.

Tori nodded her head, tiredness lacing her voice. “I think Margaux would banish me if I didn't. She’s been talking about it all week.”

With the end of the calendar year came the festive season, and to celebrate the dance company's success, they hosted a Christmas gala. An event that had been the talk of the studio for the last week or so.

As a newcomer to the company, this would be Tori’s first time attending, but from what she'd heard, it was a night of glamour, laughter, and celebration—a chance for the dancers to let loose and enjoy the fruits of their hard work before they headed back to their respective parts of the world for the holidays.

As a fresh face within the company, Tori was buzzing with excitement for her inaugural event. She had heard whispers about the night—a dazzling affair filled with glamour, laughter, and the vibrant energy of celebration. It was an opportunity for the dancers, who had invested so much passion and dedication, to let their hair down and revel in the rewards of their hard work before embarking on their journeys back to various corners of the globe for the holiday season.

Even though the company was based in the enchanting Spanish capital, its talented dancers hailed from across the world. For Tori, her roots were firmly planted in Atlanta, Georgia, a city known for its soul and hospitality.

This new chapter in her life promised not only the thrill of performance but also the chance to forge connections and make her mark.

From a young age, Tori had always dreamed of dancing around the world, each twirl and leap filled with the promise of adventure. When the opportunity finally arose to pursue those dreams in the vibrant city of Madrid nearly nine months ago, she embraced it with an open heart and mind.

After a long week of rehearsals and teaching her classes to the young dancers within the company, all Tori wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep the entire weekend away, but duty called.

With weary legs that ached from hours of practice, Victoria finally stepped out of the dance studio, her mind momentarily distracted from the task of arranging the contents of her bag that hung heavily from her shoulder. Just then, the sound of a playful swat rang out as Mia, one of the other dancers, landed a playful hit on her butt while darting past her.

"Have you picked out a dress for tonight?" Mia teased, a sly smirk curving her lips, her rich Spanish accent infusing a rhythm into her words as she matched Tori’s brisk pace.

“I’m still deciding,” Tori replied with a weary yet warm smile. She reached for the hair tie that had held her bun in a tight grip throughout the day, releasing it with a gentle tug. Her dark hair tumbled freely over her shoulders, cascading down her back in soft waves that caught the light as she moved.

“Whatever you decide, I know you will look absolutely stunning,” Mia declared with a beaming smile, planting a quick kiss on Tori’s cheek before darting away down a corridor lined with glass-panelled dance studios, the sounds of music and laughter spilling out into the hall.

As the chill of the evening air nipped at her skin, Victoria pulled up the zipper on her cozy puffer jacket, bracing herself for the brisk ten-minute walk back to her apartment.

Slipping her headphones in, she pressed play, allowing Sza’s smooth, soulful voice to wash over her, surrounding her as she began her journey home.

Tori loved that everything from her favourite shopping location to the studio was all within walking distance; the proximity meant that there was so much of the city she still had yet to explore.

As Tori stepped through the door of her sleek apartment, she let out a contented sigh, the familiar scent of home wrapping around her like a warm embrace. She quickly kicked off her Chanel sneakers, the soft thud echoing slightly in the quiet space. With a tug, she pulled off her coat, sliding it onto a nearby hook before making her way into the kitchen.

The cool, polished surfaces gleamed under the soft glow of the overhead lights as she opened the refrigerator door, the chill washing over her as reached for a bottle of water, the condensation forming small beads on the glass, and grabbed a bag of potato chips from the pantry.

With her small feast in hand, Tori moved to the living room, where the inviting couch beckoned her. The space was adorned with plush cushions and soft hues, perfect for unwinding. As she settled in, wrapping a soft, cozy blanket around herself, the weight of the day began to lift. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy, an irresistible tide of fatigue sweeping over her.

Determined to catch a few hours of rest before the excitement of the night unfolded, she grabbed her phone and hastily set an alarm. Snuggling deeper into the blanket, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift into slumber, the festivities that awaited her at the forefront of her mind.

A few hours later, Tori awoke to the soft chime of her alarm, the sound gently pulling her from the depths of slumber. She blinked against the soft glow of her apartment, momentarily disoriented but quickly reminded of the gala. A rush of adrenaline surged through her as she swung her legs over the side of the couch, her heart fluttering with anticipation.

After a quick shower, Tori stood in front of her closet, her heart fluttering as she pulled out her dress options for the evening. Both fabrics felt luxurious against her skin, but there was something about the black option that drew her to it.

Tori chose a stunning black dress that exuded elegance with its halter neckline and a daring deep V-cut that beautifully showcased her décolletage. The dress hugged her figure snugly, highlighting her graceful yet curvaceous silhouette, and cascaded down to the floor in a dramatic, flowing manner.

To complete her ensemble, Tori adorned herself with a selection of shimmering bracelets that caught the light with every movement and carried a chic small Saint Laurent handbag that added a touch of luxury. The overall effect was a remarkable blend of sophistication and allure.

Given the intricate design of her dress, Tori opted for a more understated approach with her hair, styling it simply to allow the dress to take centre stage. Her makeup was minimal and fresh, enhancing her natural features without overwhelming her look. She finished her outfit with a pair of Rene Caovilla heels, their intricate detailing elevating her appearance and adding a final touch of glamour.

Not only did Tori look good, but after napping for a few hours and taking her time to prepare for the evening ahead, she felt it too.

Tori slipped on her coat and grabbed her purse before booking a cab. She locked her apartment door and made her way down to the lobby.

Her heels clicked against the polished marble floor of the building as she stepped into the elevator. Tori felt a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling within her. The anticipation of the gala was palpable, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of celebrating with her fellow dancers.

As the elevator doors opened, she stepped out into the cool evening air, the city lights twinkling like stars against the darkening sky. Tori hailed a cab, her heart racing as she slid into the back seat. The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb, weaving through the bustling streets of Madrid.

The ride felt both quick and slow, each passing moment heightening her anticipation. Tori gazed out the window, watching the vibrant city pass by, the festive decorations illuminating the streets. She could already hear the distant sounds of music and laughter as they approached the venue.

When the cab finally came to a stop, Tori took a deep breath, her heart pounding with excitement. She stepped out and was immediately enveloped by the lively atmosphere. The venue was a grand building adorned with twinkling lights and elegant decorations, a perfect setting for the gala.

As she walked toward the entrance, Tori spotted familiar faces among the crowd. Dancers from the company mingled, their laughter ringing out like music. She felt a rush of warmth as she recognized Mia, who was chatting animatedly with a group of dancers.

“Tori!” Mia called out, her voice bright and welcoming. She rushed over, her own outfit sparkling under the lights. “You made it! You look absolutely stunning!”

“Thanks, Mia! You look incredible too!” Tori replied, her nerves easing as she embraced her friend.

“Come on, let’s get inside! The night is just beginning!” Mia exclaimed, grabbing Tori’s hand and leading her through the entrance.

Inside, the atmosphere was electric. The grand hall was filled with elegantly dressed guests, the air buzzing with excitement. A live band played soft music in the corner, and the scent of delicious food wafted through the air. Tori felt a thrill of joy as she took in the scene, her heart swelling with gratitude for being part of this vibrant community.

As they made their way through the crowd, Tori spotted Margaux, the choreographer, chatting with a few dancers. She felt a flutter of nerves at the thought of approaching her, but Mia encouraged her with a gentle nudge.

“Let’s go say hi!” Mia urged, and together they approached Margaux.

“Ladies!” Margaux greeted them with a warm smile. “You both look fabulous tonight! I’m so proud of the hard work you’ve put in this season.”

“Thank you, Margaux!” Tori replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her stomach. “It’s an honour to be part of this company.”

As the night unfolded, Tori found herself swept up in the festivities. She danced, laughed, and mingled with her fellow dancers, each moment filled with joy and camaraderie. The worries and fatigue from the week melted away, replaced by the exhilaration of celebration.

At one point, Tori stepped outside onto a balcony to catch her breath. The cool night air felt refreshing against her skin, and she leaned against the railing, taking in the stunning view of the city. The lights of Madrid twinkled like stars, and she felt a sense of peace wash over her.

“Enjoying the view?” a voice interrupted her thoughts. Tori turned to see a fellow dancer, Lucas, leaning against the railing beside her. He wore a charming smile, his eyes sparkling with playfulness.

“Madrid is a beautiful city,” Tori agreed, returning his smile as she glanced back at the dazzling skyline before them. “It’s hard to believe I’ve been here for almost nine months now. Sometimes it feels like a dream.”

Lucas chuckled softly, his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the city lights. “I know what you mean. This place can be both exhilarating and overwhelming. But tonight, we’re here to celebrate, right?”

“Absolutely!” Tori exclaimed, feeling her heart lift at the thought. She took a moment to appreciate the energy around them—attendees laughing and mingling, the music spilling out from the venue, and the festive decorations that adorned every corner.

“Have you had a drink yet?” Lucas asked, tilting his head slightly, his expression suggestive.

“Not yet,” Tori confirmed. 

“Please go and change that, this is a night to celebrate all of our hard work,” ushering Tori inside, Lucas playfully pushed her in the direction of the bar before he was pulled into a conversation by another dancer leaving her alone in the pursuit of a drink.

As Tori made her way through the crowd, the rhythm of the music pulled her along, excitement bubbling in her stomach. She spotted the bar just across the expansive room, with a sleek surface shining under the warm golden lights. The buzz of laughter and chatter surrounded her, and she felt a tingle of anticipation for the night's festivities. 

Navigating through the throngs of elegantly dressed guests, Tori finally reached the bar. She leaned against the polished counter, ready to place her order. The bartender approached, giving her a friendly smile as he raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. 

“What can I get you?” he asked, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Could I have a glass of Prosecco, please?” Tori replied, feeling her nerves vanish with the anticipation of the bubbles teasing her palate.

Just as the bartender poured her drink, someone bumped into her, the abruptness sending a jolt through her. Before she could react, she felt the cold splash of liquid hit her cleavage. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Jude rushed as he quickly grabbed a pile of napkins from the bar forcing them into Tori’s hands. He hadn't seen her as she stepped behind him, but he felt terrible as he watched the remains of his drink meander down her chest and drip from the saturated silk of her dress. 

Tori's eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing as the cool liquid seeped into the fabric against her skin. The bar's dim light danced off the shimmering material, accentuating every curve of her silhouette. She looked down at the mess, then back up at the man, who was fumbling with the napkins like a frantic child. 

“It’s... it’s fine,” she managed, though her voice was softened with embarrassment. “I’ve got it.”

Jude ran a hand through his hair, his gaze flicking nervously to her chest, the way the silk clung to it before she turned on her heels and rushed in the direction of the restrooms. 

Cautiously following behind her, Jude watched as she stepped out to the party into the hall, her heels echoing against the floor as she sauntered into the ladies' room. 

Waiting outside for her to return, Jude pushed his hands into his pockets as leaned against the wall, using the moment alone to decompress from all of the conversations he’d been pulled into since arriving at the event. 

If Jude were to be completely honest, he would confess that he knew little to nothing about ballet. His identity was firmly rooted in the world of football, a sport that filled his heart with passion and purpose. 

Tonight, however, he found himself in unfamiliar territory, dragged along by his team's public relations staff. As a key player in Real Madrid’s starting eleven, he understood that public engagements were an essential aspect of his role, just as crucial as the rigorous conditioning he undertook to keep his body at peak performance.

He'd been asked to attend in support of a cause he knew very little about, but in the moment all he cared about was writing a wrong and ensuring he hadn't ruined someone's night and dress. 

When the woman returned her dress looked as good as new, albeit the napkins she still used to dab at the material. 

Tori emerged from the restroom, her cheeks still flushed but her expression more composed. She had managed to clean up the worst of the spill, and the silk of her dress now glimmered under the dim lights, though the remnants of Jude's drink still clung to the edges of her neckline. She caught sight of Jude leaning against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes betraying a hint of concern.

“See? All better,” she said, attempting to lighten the mood as she dabbed at the last few spots with the napkin. “I think I’ll survive.”

Jude let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a sheepish smile breaking across his face. “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to—”

“Spill your drink all over me?” Tori interjected with a pout. “It’s okay. I’ve had worse things happen at parties.”

“Still, I feel terrible,” he replied, running a hand through his tousled hair again. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Tori waved her hand dismissively, her confidence still dwindling but slowly returning as she stood in the presence of the handsome stranger. “Honestly, it’s fine. I managed to get most of it cleaned. Besides, I doubt anyone will notice.” She glanced around the bustling venue, her eyes bright and glistening.

Jude raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I’ll still know, at least let me have it cleaned professionally.”

“Thanks,” Tori said, her heart warming at his chivalry. “But honestly, it's fine…. I didn't catch your name.”

Tori studied the man's face, an unsettling sense of familiarity coming over her. His features were striking yet elusive; she could see the chiselled lines of his jaw and the way his dark tapered curls seemed uniform and perfectly in place. Despite her mind dancing through the roster of dancers she knew—none of whom matched him—something about him tugged at her memory. There was an intensity in his piercing gaze that hinted he belonged somewhere significant, but where that was remained just out of reach in her mind.

“Jude,” he said with a warm smile, extending his hand toward her. “And you are?”

“Tori,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I'm a dancer here, have we met before? You look familiar but I can't place it.”

“No, I think I’d remember meeting you Tori,” Jude replied. “But as for me being familiar, maybe that's why,” he smirked as he pointed behind Tori to a banner that hung across the ceiling and there he was, accompanied by three other men all dressed in the same white and gold jerseys. 

“You’re a soccer player?” Victoria asked curiously, her lack of knowledge surrounding who he was only adding to Jude's amusement. 

“You could say that, although where I’m from we prefer the term “football”.” he explained. 

Tori laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Right, of course! I should have guessed. I’m not really into sports, but I’ve heard soc—football is huge out here. You guys are kind of a big deal, aren’t you?”

Jude chuckled, a hint of modesty in his demeanor. “We try our best. It’s a team effort, really. But tonight, I’m just here to support a good cause and, apparently, to make a mess of things.”

“Hey, it could have happened to anyone,” Tori reassured him, her smile warm. “And at least you weren’t a dickhead about it.”

Jude laughed, the tension easing between them. “I appreciate that. I’ll take ‘not a dickhead’ as a win for the night.”

Tori grinned, feeling more at ease. “So, what brings you to a ballet gala? I assume it’s not your usual scene?”

“Honestly? I was dragged here by my team, if I’m not mistaken we worked with the company this year.” he admitted, a hint of sheepishness in his tone. “Optics I guess.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far,” Tori said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ve already made quite the impression.”

“Let’s hope it’s a good one,” Jude replied, his gaze steady on her. “And what about you? How did you end up in Madrid dancing with this company?”

Tori took a moment to gather her thoughts, her heart swelling with pride as she spoke. “I’ve always dreamed of dancing professionally somewhere other than where I’m from, and when the opportunity came to join this company, I jumped at it. It’s been a whirlwind experience, but I love every minute of it. The culture, the people, the passion—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“That’s inspiring,” Jude said, genuinely impressed.  Despite their different career paths, it was evident their stories held similarities. “I can’t imagine the dedication it takes to pursue something like that.”

“It’s definitely not easy,” Tori admitted, her expression turning contemplative. “But then again I can’t imagine being an athlete is a walk in the park.”

“It isn’t, but I love football,” Jude admitted. 

“The things we do for love, right?” Tori laughed making Jude do the same. 

The shared laughter felt like a soft thread stitching them closer together, and Tori felt a delightful thrill buzzing through her. Just as she was gathering the courage to delve deeper into their conversation, Mia appeared at her side, radiant and full of energy.

“There you are!” Mia exclaimed, her annoyance cloaked in the brightness of her smile. “I was looking for you everywhere! We need to dance, Tori! Now!”

Before Tori could respond, Mia whisked her away, dragging her back into the heart of the event where the music pulsed like a living entity. Tori turned her head back toward Jude, and for a split second, their eyes locked, each feeling a spark of interest. But Mia's infectious energy swept her away entirely.

“Tori,” Jude murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he observed the scene unfolding before him. A girl with a radiant smile and a bubbly personality gently pulled Tori away, her laughter ringing out like a joyful melody. Jude’s gaze lingered on Tori, captivated by the way her eyes sparkled with delight and the warmth of her smile that illuminated the space around her. The energy she radiated was magnetic, filling the air with a sense of carefree joy that made him long to understand the source of her exuberance. He couldn’t help but feel drawn to her, his curiosity deepening as he watched.

“You know her?” Kylian smirked knowingly as he checked the time on his wristwatch, his eyes following in the same direction as his teammate. 

Whoever she was, she was beautiful and definitely his type. However, Kylian could tell from the interaction he observed across the room that Jude had already taken a liking to her. As competitive as he was, he wasn’t the kind of guy to step on anyone’s toes. 

“No, she’s a dancer here,” Jude replied, his voice still low, as if he were afraid to break the spell that Tori seemed to cast over him.

Kylian raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Are you going to get to know her? She's beautiful.”

Jude nodded, his eyes still fixed on Tori as she spun around, her laughter ringing out like music as she playfully danced with the same girl that had stolen her earlier. “Yeah, she is,” he said, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice.

Kylian chuckled, nudging Jude teasingly. “You should go and talk to her.”

But instead of moving forward, Jude remained rooted in place, watching Tori through the crowds of people enjoying the night. He felt an inexplicable pull to her, a desire to know more about the passionate spirit behind her smiles and laughter. She danced freely, her movements fluid and alive, each twirl a reflection of her commitment to her craft. It excited him, to see someone so deeply engaged in what they loved. 

The evening continued to unfold around them—there were mingling groups, clinking glasses, and the low thrum of music guiding each heartbeat within the grand venue. Jude’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, each pulling him in a different direction. But he found comfort in simply observing her from a distance, letting her joyous energy wash over him.

However, as the night drew on and the crowd began to thin, he noticed Tori’s demeanor shift slightly. She began scanning the surroundings, an almost hesitant look crossing her face. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed just a fraction as she glanced down at her phone, then around to the curb outside where cabs occasionally pulled up, but there didn't seem to be one in sight.

Jude's instinct kicked in. This beautiful dancer, so full of life just moments ago, now appeared a bit lost and alone. He began to weigh his options despite his earlier hesitation. He could easily approach her, but would that be appropriate now? There was still a certain barrier that held him back. But as he watched her, thoughts of lost opportunities and possible regret flashed through his mind—a thought he couldn’t dismiss.

It was easy to walk away, to let her drift into the night when she seemed perfectly content within her circle of friends. But this chance felt too potent to let go.

Not wasting another moment, Jude pushed off the bar, his heart racing with a heady mix of determination. He made his way through the retreating crowd until he reached the door and stepped outside. There, he spotted Tori standing under a streetlight, her figure highlighted against the backdrop of the bustling street. 

“Tori!” Jude called out, the cold night air surrounding his words with a warmth of intent.

She turned, her expression brightening as she saw him. “Jude! Hi!” Her smile was genuine and tugged at something deep within him. “What’s up?”

“I was just about to reach out and see if you needed a ride home,” he offered, nodding toward the street where a few cabs were beginning to crawl past picking up the other attendees of the nights events. “You’ve been patiently waiting for one, haven’t you?.”

Tori’s expression of surprise quickly morphed into a look of consideration. “That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t want to impose. It’s so nice of you to offer.”

“It's no imposition, I promise. Besides, I'd hate for you to wait out here alone for too long, especially if it gets any colder.” He offered her a reassuring smile, hoping it conveyed that she could trust him. They had shared a light connection earlier, and he wanted to explore the possibility of fostering it further. 

She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip as she considered his words. Finally, she relented, her shoulders relaxing. “Alright, if you’re sure. That would be amazing.”

They made their way to the curb, where Jude quickly called for his chauffeur, who pulled up in a sleek black car moments later. As they approached, Tori’s eyes widened a little, intrigued by the luxury of the vehicle. 

“You really are a big deal, aren’t you?” she teased playfully, her smile blooming once more. 

Jude chuckled, shaking his head. “Not really. A guy with a good job. Besides, I guess you could say I’m just making sure I return the favor after ruining your night.” 

“Fair point,” Tori replied with a laugh. 

He opened the door, and Tori slid into the seat, tucking her dress carefully as she did. Jude followed suit, closing the door behind him and settling in. The interior was plush and inviting, the soft ambient lights casting a warm glow as the driver began to pull away from the venue.

“Wow, this is really nice. Very different from any other transport I’ve taken tonight,” she admitted, looking around with amused curiosity.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jude said with a wink. “So, what’s it like being part of a ballet company? You must have stories.”

Tori leaned back, her enthusiasm ignited by the conversation. “Honestly, it’s incredible! The dedication, the relationships—there's always something new to learn. Each performance isa fruition of not only my work but also the efforts of everyone around me. The energy we share on stage is something magical.”

As she spoke, Jude watched her, captivated by the way her eyes lit up. With each word, he felt himself drawn in further, wanting to know not just about her life as a dancer but who she truly was beyond the stage. 

“What about you?” Tori countered, her gaze shifting to him. “Life as a professional athlete must be exciting. Do you enjoy it?”

“I do,” Jude replied, allowing himself to relax as he shrugged off the more serious demeanor he tended to adopt at public events. “It’s a mix of pressure and joy. I love thrill of competition, the adrenaline—it’s intoxicating. But it’s not all glamour; the hard work is relentless and sometimes lonely. I admire you for your dedication; it’s admirable to create something so beautiful with your body.”

Tori smiled, a hint of shyness coloring her cheeks. “Thank you, that means a lot. It’s getting to that beauty and artistry that can be exhausting. You really have to push yourself beyond the limits sometimes.”

Jude nodded, intrigued. “What made youchoose dancing?”

After a brief moment of contemplation, Tori replied, “I don't think I've ever loved anything more.” 

Jude and Tori spoke the entire journey to her apartment, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them. They shared stories about their childhoods, their families, and the paths that led them to their respective careers. Tori spoke of her early days in Atlanta, where she first discovered her love for dance, and how she had always dreamed of performing on grand stages. Jude shared anecdotes from his youth, the thrill of kicking a ball around with friends, and the moment he realized he wanted to pursue football professionally.

As they approached Tori's apartment building, the conversation shifted to their aspirations. Tori expressed her desire to choreograph her own pieces one day, to create something that resonated with others on a deeper level. Jude, in turn, spoke of his hopes to leave a legacy in football, to be remembered not just for his skills on the pitch but for his contributions off it as well.

When they arrived, Jude stepped out first and opened the door for Tori, who smiled at the gesture. “Thank you for the ride, Jude. I really enjoyed our conversation.”

“Me too,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her. “I’m glad I ran into you tonight. It was a pleasant surprise.”

Tori felt a flutter in her chest at his words. “Likewise,” she said, her tone softening. The warmth radiating from their shared moment felt electric, and she wanted to hold onto it a little longer. 

As they stood there in front of her apartment, the night air wrapped around them, a slight chill blending with the heat of their conversation. Tori toyed nervously with the straps of her handbag, the silent anticipation fostering a palpable tension between them. 

“What’s next for you?” Jude asked, leaning casually against the wall beside her, his eyes searching hers.

“I’ll probably just crash. It’s been a long day,” Tori sighed, already feeling the weight of her body knowing it would soon be seeking rest. "But I’m excited for rehearsal tomorrow. We’ve got a big performance coming up in the spring that we’ve already started rehearsals for.”

“Is that so?” Jude tilted his head, a smirk forming on his lips. “What’s the performance about?”

“It's a classic piece, really. A mix of dramatic storytelling set to beautiful music. The choreography is breathtaking," she shared, her passion radiating ever so present. “You should come and see it sometime, if you’re interested. I can get you tickets.”

Jude's heart raced at the thought, the prospect of witnessing her dance igniting a flicker of excitement within him. “I’d love that,” he said earnestly. “Just let me know when.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the surrounding city seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in the spotlight of their conversation. Tori felt a flutter in her stomach – a blend of nerves and intrigue that coursed through her. She took a small step closer, feeling emboldened by the connection they had fostered.

Jude’s expression softened, the magnetic pull between them crackling through the air. “Well, since I’m clearly no good at keeping my drinks to myself, maybe I should stay away.” His teasing brought a light laugh from Tori, easing the air between them.

“I’ll just have to be careful around you, then,” she said playfully.

Jude chuckled, the sound low and rich as he took a step closer and looked down into her expressive eyes.

In that moment, the tension shifted, and without thinking, Jude gently cupped Tori’s face, hesitating slightly as he read her expression. It was infused with a blend of surprise and something that looked like desire. The space between them felt charged, as though the universe had drawn them together for this very moment.

“Can I?” he mouthed softly, his voice barely a whisper, seeking her permission. 

Tori nodded, her heart racing, the remnants of their conversation swirling around them like a beautiful dance. 

Jude leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against hers in the softest of kisses, a tentative exploration that sent shivers down her spine. Her breath hitched in her throat as she leaned into him, deepening the kiss, feeling the warmth of his body meld against hers.

Jude felt a rush of warmth wash over him as Tori’s soft hand settled gently on the back of his neck. It was as if a current of electricity had surged through him, igniting every nerve ending. His hands instinctively found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as their lips met in a tender kiss.

As Tori pulled away, she felt her cheeks warm with a deep blush that betrayed her flustered emotions. Jude, undeterred, leaned in and pressed another soft kiss against her lips, his touch lingering just a moment longer. When he finally stood upright, he seemed to tower over her, his height making her feel both small and protected all at once. The intensity of his gaze mixed with the sweetness of the moment left her breathless.

“Thank you for getting me home,” Tori smiled sweetly up at Jude, her fingers brushing against his blazer-covered bicep. 

“Thank you for allowing me to,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “I wasn’t sure how tonight would go, but I’m really happy I met you.”

Tori’s heart fluttered at his words, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest. “Me too. I didn’t expect to have such an incredible time, especially at my first gala. You made it special.”

Jude chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think we could make dinner sometime special too.”

Tori laughed a melodic sound that made Jude’s heart race. “I don't doubt it, but aren't you a super in-demand soccer player?”

“It’s football,” Jude corrected in amusement. “Which is exactly why a dinner together is necessary, I need to work that word out of your vocabulary.” 

“My bad, football,” Victoria smiled playfully, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “But seriously, I’d like to have dinner with you. Just let me know when you’re free.”

“Perfect,” Jude said, his heart fluttering at her enthusiasm. “Are you free this weekend?”

“Is tomorrow good for you?” Tori asked feeling rather shy under Jude’s intense gaze and hating how enthusiastic she sounded. She could hardly believe how quickly the evening had unfolded, and the prospect of spending more time with him sent butterflies dancing in her stomach.

“Tomorrow sounds perfect,” Jude replied, a grin spreading across his face. “How about I pick you up at seven?”

“Seven it is,” Tori confirmed, her heart racing at the thought of their upcoming dinner. “I’ll be ready.”

As they stood there, the cold night air wrapped around them like a soft blanket, Tori felt a sense of comfort and excitement. She had never imagined that attending her dance companies end of year gala could lead to such a connection with someone like Jude. 

“Can I have a number to call you on, or do you want me to stand out here and shout your name?” Jude teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Tori laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I guess a number would be more effective,” she replied, pulling out her phone. She quickly pulled up her contact information and handed it to him. “There you go. Just promise you won’t forget to text me.”

“I promise,” Jude said, his voice earnest as he took her phone and saved her number. He handed it back with a smile that made her heart skip a beat. “I’m determined to get that S word out of your system.”

Tori grinned at his confidence, her heart racing at the thought of spending time with him in a intimate setting. Jude was captivating, with a charm that was both effortless and magnetic. She found herself wanting to learn more about him—the man behind the athlete. 

“You make it sound like a challenge,” she said, playfully arching an eyebrow at him. 

“Trust me, I thrive on challenges,” he replied, leaning closer as if to let her in on a secret. “Especially when they involve beautiful women.”

The way he spoke sent a shiver down her spine, igniting a warmth deep within her. She felt her heart race at the connection they shared, a thrill that was both exhilarating and terrifying. “Well, I’m sure I can hold my own when it comes to challenges,” Tori shot back, her voice teasing despite the butterflies flitting about in her stomach.

Jude's lips twitched into a smile, and he took a step closer, their bodies almost touching now. “I have no doubt about that. I can tell you’re a woman who knows what she wants.” He paused, his eyes locking onto hers with a burning intensity.

[mpregtales]

Sexton

9 months pregnant, 40 years old, from Atlanta, expecting his first child, a baby boy.

For Sexton, pregnancy was never part of the plan—especially not at this stage of life. Handsome, charming, and confident, he had always been a magnet for attention, particularly from younger men. There was something about his rugged looks and strong, curvaceous build that made him irresistible, especially to attractive men in their 20s who were in their prime. Sexton wasn’t the “daddy” type, though—he had always been a bottom, his body seemingly built for that role. Offering himself to a younger man in his prime felt natural, and it was a pleasure he indulged in freely.

One such hookup changed everything. It was a night of passion with a stunning man whose name Sexton never even caught. At his age, Sexton had assumed his body’s fertility had waned—he believed he couldn’t conceive anymore. For years, he had been careful when hooking up, but recently, given his age, he had felt precautions weren’t as necessary. He thought wrong. Weeks later, when he discovered he was pregnant, he was floored. He hadn’t imagined carrying a child at this stage of life, but as the weeks went on, Sexton found himself embracing the journey with a sense of wonder and pride.

Sexton’s body has transformed in ways he never expected. His belly has grown into a massive, round dome, now sitting low as his baby boy settles into position. He often finds himself rubbing it absentmindedly, marveling at how firm and heavy it feels, and feeling the strong kicks and rolls from the life growing inside. His bubble butt, now one of his most striking features, has blossomed into a full, lush, pregnancy-thickened set of cheeks. The curve of life—the fullness of his belly—complements the luscious curve of his hips and glutes, making him feel both maternal and undeniably alluring.

While he’s anxious about whether his body will ever return to its pre-pregnancy shape, he’s come to love the way it has changed. At first, he worried about the challenges of carrying a baby at his age—the fatigue, the strain on his body, and the unknowns of being a single father—but those worries have faded. Sexton has embraced the experience with open arms, cherishing the sensations of pregnancy. From the stretch of his belly to the tingling pressure in his hips and the subtle opening of his body preparing for birth, every feeling reminds him of the life he’s about to bring into the world.

As Sexton prepares for labor, he feels his body gearing up for the final stage. His belly has dropped significantly, his pelvis feels heavy with the weight of his son, and his lower back and glutes radiate with a fullness that signals the time is near.

Sexton had always been adamant about not having kids, but now, he can’t imagine a life without this journey. Even the prospect of being a single dad excites him. As he rubs his belly one last time before he gives birth, he’s already thinking about doing it again while his body still has some fertility left. It would be a shame, he thinks, to let his son grow up as an only child. For now, though, Sexton is focused on bringing his baby boy into the world, proud of the life he’s created and the man he’s become.

From the Paternity Studios Collection

[brucewaynehater101]

Have you ever read a fic called A Medication On Railroading? Because I think you'll like it. Basic summery with no spoilers: Jack takes Tim on a trip to Atlanta and then leaves him in Atlanta so he goes train hopping to get home. Very hurt/comfort.

But it also gives me an idea that I'm not sure where to share. What if that wasn't Tim's first time getting home like that? Maybe the first time was just New York when he was say... 9 years old? His parents took him with them to a Gala and Jack thought Janet called him a car home and Janet thought Jack took care of it. Neither one did and Tiny Tim figured out how to get home on his own. It happens again when he's 11 so he already knows what to do, he studied up in case it happened again.

After the second time, anytime Tim is with his parents he keeps his camera bag on him at all times which has 300 dollars in it that he can use on getting home. Tim also discovers during the second one that trains are *way* better than busses and cabs. He's all alone, just him and the scenery and whatever cargo his car holds. He can Fully Relax. He doesn't have to be the perfect heir, he doesn't have to smile for the cameras, he doesn't have to be quiet or good or perfectly polite. He can scream and laugh and cry if he wants to and no one will ever know! He can sing and curse and throw rocks at things! He can be a *kid*.

After Tim becomes Robin, he never calls Batman for a pick up if he's abandoned somewhere and instead will make his own way home. Heck, after some missions with Young Justice he will turn off his trackers and ride trains home so that he can loudly vent about them without having to worry about anyone ever knowing what he said!

This does become a slight problem when he's 17 and Bruce needs him for something and finds out from Bart that their mission ended a day and a half ago. But Tim never called for pick up. And his trackers are all offline. And he never hit his emergency beacon and *no one can find him*. Bruce totally isn't freaking out. The other Bats totally aren't freaking out. Young Justice totally isn't freaking out. There totally isn't a panic spreading through the super hero community about Red Robin maybe being dead I a ditch somewhere and how both Batman and his team will react.

Tim meanwhile is straight vibing as he reclines on a stack of bags of rice like they're pillows, singing along to some sound track he downloaded onto his MP3 player, having turned the volume to max and nearly screaming the lyrics because it's the one time he feels like he can.

Yes! I love that fic you mentioned. It's really really good. Perhaps I should re read it since it's been a minute.

Also, I absolutely adore the little tidbit you've added. A few things to note that I love about it:

No one else knows/finds out until he's Red Robin

It's a semi-decent coping mechanism. He gets to chill out, vibe, and process. He's also in touch with nature and music during this.

Tim drops his various masks to simply exist for a bit

Tim chilling on some rice bags in a train cart with an MP3 player (not even his phone. This indicates he's fully offline during these trips)

A few additional notes to add. One, this could buff up the canon notion that pre-Robin Tim traveled far to go see Dick at the circus and convince him to become Robin again. If Tim had already done that twice unexpectedly, he'd do swell when he actually plans to do it.

Two, Tim probably created a white noise generator or something to give him totally privacy on his "me trips." This is why Kon and Superman freak out. They can't hear him.

Three, he probably gets covered in grime, dust, and dirt. He's no longer in the pristine environment he grew up in.

Gods. That sounds so nice and relaxing. I'm actually kind of jealous. Just the wind, music, and the slowly changing scenery? Fuuuck.

[sai-int]

Hi! This is the first time I make request and sorry if my english isn't good but I've been reading a lot of smut of daryl lately and now i am craving some angst. Could you write one where the reader is younger than daryl (maybe she's around 23) and she has a huge crush on him but daryl doesn't want too acknowledge her feelings because she's younger than him. But then daryl realised that he's crazy about her too when reader is trying to move on from him.

Thank you! Mwah!

I turned this into smut, and kinda strayed away from what you asked I'm so sorry, also i just found this in my drafts from like a year ago, i am SO sorry pookie

-> not proofread, straight stream of consciousness vibes

farm!daryl, kinda smut, mdni, ignore the lack of capitalization, I did this on my phone

from the second he saw you smoking way up in that tree, he knew he'd be better off hightailing it back to atlanta.

the eldest greene sister. and boy did herschel have a lot to say. When daryl and his group arrived at herschel's farm, daryl's initial thought was that it must've been a weed farm, mainly because he could smell the damn plant from at least a mile away.

okay, not really. herschel picked up on the scent as he greeted the group outside and followed daryl's gaze to you, propped up in a tree, puffing away at your diy bible-rolled joint as you doodled in a notebook

"would you stop with the damn plants for a second? We have visitors." herschel called out to you. you hopped on out of the tree and made your way over to the group, snuffing out the joint and stuffing it in your pocket for later.

what? it's not like there's anywhere you could buy some more.

"thought we weren't taking anybody in?" you said to your dad, sizing up the group before your eyes landed in daryl.

herschel had responded, but either the weed kicked in or the world must've suddenly gone mute, because the only thing you could hear was your heart beating.

he had made eye contact with you, but quickly adverted his eyes and fixated on the grass, which became the most intriguing thing in the world to him.

herschel continued talking and negotiating with the group's leader as you stood there, your eyes flickering between daryl and the rest of the group.

herschel had allowed them to stay until a kid you discovered to be carl–who got shot by otis) heals up. much to your dismay, you could see the brooding archer setting up camp right underneath your designated smoke spot. not that you minded having a man that absolutely devour-able underneath you as you indulged, but it was still your tree. you had headed inside to make some dinner for carl when you spotted him through the kitchen window.

you quickly stomped your way out of the main house to your tree- his tent. he had just snuffed out his fire and zipped up his tent for the night.

"you're camping out under my tree." you said matter-of-factly, standing outside of his tent and perfectly aware that he can hear you through the thin fabric.

"it ain't yer tree, sunshine." he grumbled from inside the tent.

"it's not your land."

"ya can't make a tree yer property... ain't how that works."

"oh but that is how it works.."

you could hear a mumbled response, but you were already rounding the tent and making your way up the tree before you could make sense of it.

it wasn't long before the smell permeated his tent. he didn't mind the smell of weed, if anything, it enticed him to join you. but god was he exhausted.

perhaps, he wasn't exhausted enough. he relented and opened his tent and turned around, trying to find you through the darkness. like you had night vision, you could see him looking up, almost directly at you.

"plan on joining me? or you just gonna stare at me little while longer?" You called down to him.

"ya gon' share?" he said loud enough for you to hear him, but not enough to wake the others.

"come and find out.." you teased. not only did weed make you generous, but it turned you on too. flirting with the clearly older man was not on your playbook, but then again, neither was the end of the world.

christ almighty this was a new low. definitely sativa.

he made his way up the tree with ease, the smell of weed growing stronger as he made his way closer to you. he sat down across from you. the thick branches of the willow tree would support you both. The fiery glow from the bud briefly illuminated your face as you inhaled

to daryl, you were much prettier than you were earlier. he could see the way your rosy lips had briefly trapped the filtered end of the joint before inhaling, and the warmth in your cheeks under the moonlight. yeah, he was definitely feeling the second-hand high.

wordlessly, you held out the joint to the older man, smiling softly as he took it from your grasp and placed his lips around it.

he took his fair share of hits as you shamelessly admired him. his looks weren't lost on you, and yours most defintely were not lost on him. maybe it was the weed, or the way you tits sat in you shirt, or the way your hair seemed to perfectly frame your face, or even the look in your eye, but he slowly felt himself shuffling over to you, suddenly longing to feel your skin on his.

as he sat closer, the smell of weed seemed to fade away as your aroma his him like a brick. the vanilla in your remaining body wash had been swept up by the wind, imbuing his senses, sending a wave of sparks straight to his cock.

the tension was palpable. he looked into your longing eyes. he knew what you wanted. he wanted it too.

"we can't- yer old man he'd-" he mumbled, ignoring the way your eyes burned his skin, and most defitnely trying to ignore the way his pants strained around him.

"we can," you cut him off in the same quiet fashion, your hand finding his thigh as if it had a mind of its own.

the second you touched him, he could feel himself bending to your will, his mind slowly twisting into mush. he saw the redness in your eyes and knew you were just as gone as he was.

within seconds you planted your lips onto his, molding together instantly. his rough hands found their way to your hips as he maneuvered you on top of him.

you could feel his cock straining in his pants as you instinctively pressed yourself into him. he could feel the heat from your cunt radiating onto him as you mewled from the friction. your teeth caught your lip as you remembered that you couldn't be too loud. he looked up at you, his heart pounding and reverberating through his bones. you began to grind on him as he held you firmly against him, his head tipping back and against the larger trunk of the tree as he kneaded the fat of your hips.

he pressed you harder against him, moving your hips to grind against him as he instinctively bucked his hips into you. his clothed cock rubbed repeated and merciless strokes against your clit. his hands snaked their way up your back and neck, eventually grabbing a fist full of hair from the nape of your neck. he pulled backward, latching his lips to your neck, feeling your heart beat erratically underneath your skin.

"f- fuck..." you mewled into his ear. daryl wanted that sound on repeat 24/7. you felt yourself begin to drip past your panties and soaking your cotton shorts. your hands rested on his hard chest, feeling his body shutter with every stroke of your hips.

daryl could embarrassingly feel his climax approaching as he pressed himself into your heat. the coil that tightened inside brought him some semblance of clarity from his high. He stilled your hips with his hands and pulled you off him.

"what the fu-"

"I ain't gonna cum inside m'pants like some damn teenager... 'f 's gon' be anywhere, its gon' be inside ya." he said quietly, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, still holding you close.

masterlist

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Don Moynihan at Can We Still Govern?

An exhausted Bradley Boone, the assistant Fire Chief at Pensacola, took to Facebook on Saturday. As his community was recovering from Hurricane Helene he asked viewers for help. Not with aid or supplies. They had plenty of that for now. But to dispel the rumors that were making it harder for him to do his job. These rumors include that 150 people were missing, that the community was overrun with violence, that there were not sufficient food and water, that roads which were in reality in need of repair were being shut to limit the flow of help, and that FEMA was unwelcome. He said he had spent a large chunk of his day talking to citizens face-to-face to dispel the rumors. Boone is an example of how emergency responders have become one more category of public service worker who have discovered that they now have a second job they did not sign up for. Alongside librarians, teachers, public health officials, election officials, and law enforcement, emergency responders must now also be misinformation experts. They have to spend their days separating facts from reality for constituents who are being lied to via right-wing conspiracy theorists. FEMA set up a website to battle misinformation. Some of it comes from the usual suspects, like foreign adversaries such as Russia, seeking to sow mistrust, or professional conspiracy theorists like Alex Jones. But many of the lies (that FEMA is only offering $750 to disaster victims, running out of money, that FEMA money has gone overseas) comes directly from the people who could be in charge of the national disaster response next year.

JD Vance, Trump, and Fox News are key conveyers of the $750 lie. ($750 is intended to cover up-front costs, but citizens can apply for tens of thousands of dollars more in relief for property damage).

Trump said that Biden refused to talk to the Governor of Georgia, part of a pattern of discriminating against red states. But earlier in the day, Governor Kemp described the conversation he had with Biden the day before, and praised Biden’s support: “He offered that if there’s other things we need, just to call him directly, which — I appreciate that. But we’ve had FEMA embedded with us since a day or two before the storm hit in our state operations center in Atlanta; we’ve got a great relationship with them.” Other Republican leaders have issued similar praise of the responsiveness of the administration.

Trump: “They stole the FEMA money, just like they stole it from a bank, so they could give it to their illegal immigrants that they want to have vote for them this season.” Yeah, this is also untrue. But fun fact: Trump raided the FEMA budget to redirect money towards his immigration policies, including building a wall.

The misinformation, and much worse, is coursing through social media because much of social media has given up on policing lies, and some social media (e.g., Truth Social, Elon Musk’s X) see a strategic advantage in lying about the disaster. This false post from Elon Musk was viewed 28 million times. No community notes.

[...] We could be angry here about the hypocrisy. Trump says Biden does not want to deliver disaster aid to Republicans. Biden not wanting to visibly help swing states like Georgia and North Carolina, right before an election, doesn’t make much sense. But it fits with Trump’s own attitudes about disaster response. Multiple Trump aides say he was reluctant to allow FEMA support go to blue states. “One of his first questions would be: Are they my people?” according to a former aide, Stephanie Grisham.

But setting aside the hypocrisy, we should care because conspiracy theories affect the competence and quality of service delivery. I used to do research on disaster response. One thing that was clear is how important it is to have a functional national crisis response agency, and how dependent the response is on human factors. FEMA itself is not a large organization: it organizes and relies on a broader network of responders, and on the trust of the public. Take that trust away, and their ability to help people collapses. Competence really matters for disaster response like few other government functions. You can't bluff your way through it. You can’t learn the job as you go along. Mistakes are costly. Musk’s Cybertruck is on its fifth recall in the space of a year, while the boss spends his day on social media. His status as a natural disaster schmuck emerged when he promised to rescue a group of kids in Thailand stranded in a cave with a tiny submarine. When a cave diver who advised the successful rescue mocked the impracticality of Musk’s plan, Musk labeled him a pedophile, and hired a private investigator to dig up dirt on him.

[...] There is a basic asymmetry here. Democrats would certainly attack missteps by a GOP President failing in disaster response. The failure of Hurricane Katrina marked a key point in the decline of President Bush’s popularity. Trump was criticized for his sluggish response to Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico, and for pushing his appointees to violate scientific and ethical guidelines when releasing public information about the path of hurricanes to align with his Sharpie additions to a map. But that criticism was grounded in reality. Instead, the GOP simply turns to conspiracy theories rather than engaging in troublesome facts. More climate-driven disasters are coming. This is the future. Trump won’t acknowledge or prepare for this reality. Indeed, Project 2025 has proposed that the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration should be “broken up and downsized” because it is “one of the main drivers of the climate change alarm industry.”

Another top notch post from Don Moynihan, this time addressing the hydra of lies and conspiracy theories about FEMA and the response to Hurricane Helene (and Milton).

[glamnessaaumisc]

FUN AMERICA FACTS!

The US invented the Navy. The first boat was invented by Massachusetts native John Boat, who made boats so he could bring Christopher Columbus over.

The first Pilgrim to arrive at Plymouth Rock was Scott Pilgrim, who was famous for fighting the world. This fight is commonly known as World War I.

People know about the Lincoln and the Jefferson memorials, but few know about the 42 other memorials hidden all around the United States. Can you find them all?

Oil is grown on American soil and then exported around the world so other countries can dig it up themselves. This is known as OPEC, which stands for Oil Places Everywhere, Crazy! (Huh?)

Atlanta native Joey Steele was the second President of the Soviet Union. The Russians, humiliated that they elected a capitalist pig from the West, posthumously changed his name to Joseph Stalin, but do not deny he was born in Georgia.

Hurricane, Utah is technically the only state due to a legal loophole. The only reason we recognize 50 states is because that is how it has always been.

The least populous state in America is West Dakota.

Slavery was only banned in 2015 because they discovered the 13th Amendment had a typo all that time and "slavery" was misspelled as "slovery," thus invalidating the document. You can sue the government for making you think you weren't allowed to own slaves. Try it!

Few people know about the Understates. Go there.

There is a document hidden in an abandoned steel mill in North Carolina. Find it and you will legally own Mississippi.

[lovexjoe]

The Hotel

warning: S M U T with Michael Vargas

You and Michael have been bickering the entire way to this hotel and you couldn’t wait to get there so you guys could finally be separated. Following you across four states was insane, but discovering he’s a US Marshal and you were under witness protection definitely topped it off. Your mother was a piece of fucking work. What happened to the communication is key? She clearly skipped that shit in the parental handbook. Michael didn’t mean what he said at the restaurant. Everything that happened that night at the bar was real. He’s been fighting himself since. You catching him and having him at gun point turned him on. 

Look at you using his tips and tricks against him. He wondered what other things he could teach you and you’d just obey. He fucked up his cover, but he realize he gets to have you in closer proximity so he wasn’t gonna complain. The fact that you walked into that restaurant with the gun and sat both of you down had him swooned. You were more badass than you gave yourself credit for. And rebellious slick mouth of yours… 

“You afraid I might stab you with a chopstick? After you walked me through a kitchen full of knives? You realize how easy it would have been for me to grab one?” 

“Shut up” 

The waiter walked over to ask “Can I get you something?” 

“In a minute” He walks away just for you to continue with your usual sass. 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want to order a beer? Cause apparently the Marshals let their agents drink on the job” 

Silence. 

“What are you mute?! Speak!” 

“You did tell me to shut up so you want me to speak now or continue to shut up?” 

The death glare you gave him made it hard for him not to laugh. Boy is he gonna enjoy being this close to you. Hearing him say that he was just playing a role the night at the bar really stung. Everything else was falling apart so to add a shitty love life on top was just g r e a t.

Now here you two were outside of the hotel room waiting for Michael to open it. You wondered to yourself why there was only one key but you decided to ask questions later. You stepped inside, placing your suitcase under the bed. Michael doing his checks around the room. 

“I’ll take the couch…” 

“You’re not sleeping in here get your own room!” You crossed your arms like a brat. If he could put you over his lap and spank you: he would. 

“That’s not how this works Y/N” Whenever he said your name your heart does flutters and your stomach dips.

“Well I’m not comfortable with that” 

“And I’m not comfortable with letting you out of my sight. So….tie me up if it’ll make you feel better but neither one of us is leaving this room.” He walks up to the edge of the bed where you sat, arms crossed like a brat and he towers over you. You felt so small around him. Damsel in fucking distress. 

“I’m gonna need my gun back” You shoved your bag towards him and headed over to the bathroom. Stripping down on the way over there, he took in your figure in your undergarments. He couldn’t believe you’d fuck your mom’s nurse. Bobby? He’s a fucking loser. He took his gun out of your bag and noticed your sketchbook. He recalled the Atlanta office giving him information on you and your recent activities. They definitely forgot to mention how much sass could occupy your petite body. He heard the shower turn on and the curtain pulled back so he took a look into your sketchbook which was also a diary.

Tonight I met a man in the bar. It felt comforting like I didn’t have to run any longer. I could just stay in one place and he’d protect me. He was handsome. I haven’t felt this nervous around someone since high school. I almost forgot what it was to feel attracted to the opposite sex. Just been running on auto pilot and since the incident….fear. He taught me how to shoot and I appreciate him greatly for it. The night ended with no kiss, but I achingly wish it did. 

He smiles to himself as he turns to the next page it was a sketch of him at the bar. He was done talking shit. He joked out you being an artist but you were actually talented. His finger ran over the name you left under the sketch and his heart did a flip. 

My guardian angel 

It was gonna be a hard night to resist you. He knows the feelings were there on both sides. You thought it was unrequited but it was so far from it. He placed your sketchbook back in the bag. The shower turns off and he hears a “fuck” from the bathroom. This motel design was devious cause there was no bathroom door at all. Plus the huge mirror on the wall that could reflect your nudity was just adding fuel to the fire that is ready to ignite. 

“Michael?” You poked your head out. He looks up your way, his stomach feeling those familiar flutters when he’s around you. 

“I forgot a towel…” You looked at the fresh stacked towels on the couch then back on him. Those doe eyes of yours are gonna get you in trouble tonight. It poked a dominant side of him he didn’t know he had. He just wants to take you and having you a begging mess under him. 

“Come and get it….” He sits down on the couch next to the towels. From this angle the mirror behind you was giving him a complete view of your ass and he couldn’t help the feeling of blood rushing to his lower region. 

“If you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask.” You walked over there ready to reach over his lap for a towel. You had so much mouth for a girl who looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Tonight he was gonna fix it. He couldn’t control himself any longer. Michael gets up and stands behind you. You can feel the body heat radiating off the two of you. He leans down near your ear and whispers. 

“Bend over for me…” he places a soft kiss below your ear and you followed his wishes. The arm of the chair was soft against your skin and had your ass perked up perfectly for him. You were excited and giddy. He glides his fingers through your folds earning a little shiver in response.

“Fuck, you’re soaking already” You heard him suck the juices off his fingers and you couldn’t wrap your head around what’s happening. 

“You can touch me but you can’t kiss me? Such a gentleman…” you snorted just to earn a hard slap to your ass.

Oh! That felt good. 

“Tonight we’re gonna learn how to listen and obey. Understood?” You look back at him and nodded.

“I can’t hear you….” He slides his fingers through your folds again, rubbing up and down. 

“Y-yes…I-I understand.” 

He pulls you up straight and turned you around to face him. 

“Do you trust me?” He caress your cheek and you nodded as you nuzzle your head into his touch. As soon as your lips touched, all the fear you felt since the incident vanished. You felt whole again. His hands held you close, they were warm and rough but against your soft skin it was like a match sparking a fire. He pulls away, bending you back over the couch handle. 

He spread your cheeks and dove in. His tongue devouring you from your ass to your pussy. Drowning in you, is what he wanted. To consume every bit of wetness you produced for him. You would have never thought he could be this dirty. Heaven’s a thing and you’re there right now because of his touch. 

“Michael!” You reached for his hand and he held it for you as he thrusts his tongue into your hole. His beard getting drenched in the process. 

“I’m gonna worship this pussy.” 

You squeezed his hand letting him know you were close. You felt yourself about to release when the motions that brought you there came to abrupt stop. You let out a frustrated cry.

“That’s for having a slick fucking mouth.” 

You heard his belt come undone along with jeans and boxers. His thick length slapped against your ass. He bites his lip as he slides his length between your folds, teasing your clit. 

Hes so cruel 

“P-please daddy. Just take it” Y/N begged. His ego grew. The fact that you fixed your slick little mouth to beg for him. Hearing you call him daddy made it even better because you were his princess after tonight. He was going to protect you. He was gonna love you. 

“Such a pretty fucking princess for me”. He slips in and slowly thrusts in. Your pussy deviously clenching onto his length. He lifts one of your legs up on the couch arm to get a deeper angle. A sinful angle. He was hitting a spot you didn’t know could be touched. 

“Uhhh fuck you’re so big!” 

“God you’re taking me so fucking good. You’re so fucking good” 

Oh you had a praise kink, there was a feeling unfamiliar in your stomach as he starts to pound into you. Your moans only motivating him to thrust all the way in. 

“Look at you, clenching me as I praise you. You are soaking me. Fuck baby fuckkkk” he wets his thumb and starts to rub on your ass. 

You didn’t even let him work it, you reached behind and assisted as you felt his thumb enter you. Jesus Christ. You were full. Full of him and that’s all you wanted. That’s all you craved. His free hand caress your breast. What a drastic turn of events the night took. 

Neither one of you were complaining. 

“Fuck I’m close”  The sensation of his thumb and his thrusts had you shaking. You both shared an orgasm. He filled you up and held you close. He picked you up cause you could barely stand straight and laid you down in bed.

"Your guardian angel to the rescue"

You slapped his arm

"You read my sketchbook!" Your face turned red from the embarrassment.

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

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@midnightheat

[yukiwhitetm]

5 Tim Drake-centric Must Reads

I like Tim Drake-centric fanfictions for two main reasons, although Dick Grayson is actually my favourite Robin. Firstly, Tim reminds me a lot of Peter Parker (a genius, photographer, teenage superhero with a billionaire superhero mentor who is also a father-figure to them), who is probably my favourite superhero of all time. Secondly, the big thing I love about the Batman fandom is the Bat Family (aka BatFam). I adore the sibling relationship between the characters, always just want to them be close brothers/sisters. That is why my Batman fic recommendations are Tim Drake-centric. Because during and after Tim's time as Robin we have a larger BatFam. It's the family element.

1.

A Meditation on Railroading by eggmacguffin

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types  

Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Gen, Complete Work

13 Jan 2022

Tags:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne

Tim Drake, Jack Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne

Bad Parent Jack Drake, Child Abuse, Trains, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Crying, Gaslighting, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, Family

Summary:

When he ends up ditched in Atlanta after a fight with his dad, Tim decides to do the only sensible thing: Tell no one and make the 800 mile journey back to Gotham on his own.

Because the "call Batman when you're in trouble" rule only applies when he's Robin, right?

Language: English Words: 24,696 Chapters: 5/5

Yuki Note:

If you only ever read two Batman fanfictions, then let this be the second one (The Long Way Home being the first). This is an excellent representation of gaslighting, manipulation and mental and emotional child abuse (by Jack Drake to Tim Drake) and how it can effect an adolescent child. This is such a brilliant fanfiction – highly recommended!

2.

The Long Way Home by itsnatalie

Fandoms:Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics)  

Not Rated, Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gen, Complete Work

25 Jun 2023

Tags:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne

Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members

Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Reconciliation, Hurt/Comfort, Lazarus Pit Madness (not current. Mentioned in the past)

Summary:

With Jason tentatively back in the Batfamily, things are going pretty well for him--except for the whole thing with Tim. But who gives a shit about Tim Drake?

But when Jason and Tim are pulled into a frightening race for their lives inside a labyrinth that's out to kill them, they may have to look past their differences just to stay alive. Maybe along the way, they'll discover they aren't as different as they thought, and family comes in many different forms.

Language: English Words: 111,685 Chapters: 13/13

Yuki Note:

This is one of the best fanfictions I have ever read. This is written so well that it could be a published novel. However, before reading this please be aware of the horror elements throughout the story as well as the canon typical injuries, near death experiences and past mentioned child abuse in here (not by Bruce). If you only ever read one Batman fanfiction, then let it be this one.

3.

Scientific Method by vogon_poet

Fandoms: DCU, Batman - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling  

General Audiences, Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gen, Complete Work

04 Jul 2021

Tags:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Hermione Granger, Tim Drake & Severus Snape, Tim Drake & Fred & George Weasley, Tim Drake & Tom Riddle

Tim Drake, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts cast, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tom Riddle

Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, BAMF Tim Drake, Tim Drake is a Wizard, Tim Drake is Not Red Robin, Jack and Janet Drake's A+ Parenting, Slytherin Tim Drake, Everyone from Gotham is lowkey scary, Magical Theory, Bigotry & Prejudice, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake looks like a cinammon roll and is a cinammon roll, but will hurt you if you're racist, Activist Hermione Granger

Summary:

It’s not like he’s surprised a magic school exists— that’s probably only a seven on the scale of “crazy things Tim Drake has seen”. No, Tim’s just surprised he’s enrolled.

Part 1 of Scientific Method

Language: English Words: 133,507 Chapters: 46/46

Yuki Note:

A really fun read! Ever wanted a brilliantly clever and magical Tim Drake who is also able to see the future? Well, then this one is for you! This story covers Tim’s first and second year (he skips a year so if I recall correctly he skips to third year after his first year) and is a Fix It Fic for A Death In The Family. There is also a sequel fic in the works. Recommended!

4.

cards on the table by wesslan

Fandoms:Batman - All Media Types  

Not Rated, Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gen, Complete Work

10 Jan 2024

Tags:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake

Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Alfred Pennyworth

Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Tim Drake is Not a Batfamily Member, Fortune Telling, Tarot, Found Family, Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Doesn't he always, tim is a fortune teller, Tim Drake Joins the Batfamily Late, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Divination, tim drake is a hustler, author saw ghost (1990) and somehow here we are???, Absent Parents, Stalker Tim Drake, Underage Drinking, Stephanie Brown Appreciation, Murder and violence, just a little bit, Hypothermia, Light Angst, Lies, like so much lying, Unreliable Narrator

Summary:

Tim's parents faked their deaths and fled the country years ago, but neglected to take him with them. He spent some time on the streets, and now at 16, he makes a living as a fortune teller, stalking and hustling the shit out of Gotham's elite by telling them eerily accurate fortunes based on the information he gathers about them.

His life is peculiar but he wouldn't change a thing. When he gets booked for the big Wayne Halloween party, however, he finds himself getting all tangled up with the Waynes, and the more fortunes he tells, the tighter the snare becomes.

or: Tim just wanted to scam Gotham's elite, not end up on the Batfamily's watchlist. But it seems they just won't leave him alone..

Language: English Words: 69,788 Chapters: 30/30

Yuki Note:

This has been on a lot of BatFam rec lists lately and for good reason! This is a fantastic read, a very fun and smart idea of how Tim could join the BatFam late. I really like that this Tim is a bit more down and out whilst still remaining quintessentially him (I just think it’s great that he and Jason and Steph have more to relate to one another to). I am here for all the sibling content so I love this! Highly recommended!

OK. I am disabled and am becoming very fatigued so I’m only going to recommend one more in this post, however I have a full list of 72 Batman fandom recommendations on my AO3 account here. (Please note that three of these are JayTim, however that is under the caveat that they are set in AUs where they were never adopted brothers and are great fanfictions.)

5.

The Ruination Of Responsibility by Moxibustion (RyuuzaKochou)

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)  

Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Gen, Complete Work

26 Apr 2020

Tags:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Barbara Gordon

Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Past Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Pre-Tim Drake/Jason Todd, If You Squint - Freeform, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, Reconciliation, Extravaganza Week At The Wayne Manor, Female Tim Drake, TW: Mention Of An Offscreen Past Sexual Assault, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Non-Linear Narrative, Hurt Tim Drake

Summary:

It's Extravaganza Week at the Manor. Anything you want, anything you can dream of, as long as it's fun, fun, fun!

Timianna Drake has a somewhat fabulously complicated relationship with fun.

Language: English Words: 89,433 Chapters: 23/23

Bookmarker's Tags: Minor Character Death, Suicide

Yuki Note (from original bookmark):

I was hesitant when I went into this story, mostly because of the gender change for Tim/Timi. I am not against gender changes in stories but I find they need a point, a purpose, a reason for the change. But there is a point to Timi being a woman in this story, as it deals with the challenges, discrimination and sexism that she has to deal with in the corporate and hero world.

I really enjoyed the corporate storyline since few stories actually deal with Timi's work and the challenges therein. The family storyline is great too and I love how everything comes to a head and forces Bruce and Dick to face their failures and finally, finally do something about them. Highly recommended!

P.S. Don't worry about the Pre-Jason/Tim tag on this story. There is literally no Jason/Tim at all, in fact they don't even interact any more than Tim interacts with Cass, Steph or Dick. This is 100% Jason&Tim, a close sibling bond.

Trigger Warning: This is presently not tagged on the story but should be. It is mentioned that a minor recurring character commits suicide in the story. You don't see it, it is only mentioned. To those who find suicide triggering, be aware of this.

Enjoy! And feel free to explore my full AO3 rec list here.