#Kayla’s personal life

[jkvjimin]

KIM SEOKJIN + music videos ↳ happy birthday, kayla! @cordiallyfuturedwight 🤍🌼

(beautiful background art made by @kithtaehyung)

[bleep-bloop-boo]

something something all the apollo kids are seen as the performers of the camp which feeds into their need to mask their emotions so they can keep up the act for the others something something

[xxplastic-cubexx]

this cliff took more lives than i could on my own im losing it

[twancingyunhao]

Hey guys!

I realized I've been pretty quiet lately so thought I'd give a life update.

I've been dealing with my migraines again near constant, and with a medicine adjustment, I've been extra tired. I'm back on my 6 day work week grind too, so almost all free time is going to sleep

A very very close family friend, whom I've seen as my grandfather since I've met him also passed away the Thursday before last. He was my boss's father, I have known him since I was 12, and so I've been working more to try and offer my boss support while also going through the mental gymnastics of grief. I've never really processed grief well. Add that to the normal chronic pains, and I just haven't had the spoons to do much of anything.

But here's a few pictures from my recent life!

Some pictures of the animals, and the Edgar Allen Poe speak easy I went to with Kayla, along with a couple of the drinks provided there.

[kayluh1915]

The hell you at, bitch? I'm dying for some content here

I've gotten a lot of sweet messages concerned about my absence and I appreciate and love every single one of them. I feel so loved and I cherish every single one of you... however, this one cracked me the fuck up so I picked this one to respond to directly 🤣

Work is killer and drains me daily to the point I can barely bring myself to shower let alone post. I'm under a lot of financial stress, am in the middle of switching jobs, and am in the process of preparing to return to college next fall. So, at the moment, I am a lurker but @swiftllama is keeping me updated on everything like the beautiful saint she is. 😭 Once I get settled into my new job, things should get better and I will have more energy to post.

A lot of things have changed since 2017 when Anthony left. At that time I was 21, still living with my parents, had only a part time job (although I did regularly work 40 hours regardless) and only my phone bill to worry about. Now, I'm 27. I live in my own place with my fiancé, have 3 fur babies that rely on me, a full time job, and a lot of responsibility. Once I get settled into my new job, I should feel a lot better and have more time and energy to post. Until then, I am around and keeping tabs on everything. I love all of you and thank you for your understanding, support, and concern. It means the world to me. 🩵🩵🩵

[tashasbabe]

yeah? i love loved you.

i loved you enough to down that bottle of painkillers.

i loved you enough to take the risk of going back to the psych.

i loved you enough to tell my parents about my sexuality.

i loved you enough to let you hurt me. mentally and physically.

i loved you enough to go back to rehab.

i loved you enough to let you cheat on me.

i loved you enough to give in after you asked me to send.

i loved you enough to put that lighter to my skin.

i loved you enough to lose that innocence i had left.

i loved you enough to relapse.

i loved you, and it wasted 3 fucking years of my life.

[caylughlikescatsandstuff]

Forgot I had to put effort into living the romanticized version of my life that I pretend I have

[fourlynchclover]

-

[httpskayla2065]

Hello :3 my name is kayla, im only using this account to just post or for fun!! and my own diary that happens during my own life!

Hope i get some friends or someone to chat to!!! im 15 years old :)

So this is my first post-ish? might update my page a lot so..

Lots of my interests are Movies!! uhh I like shows to!! ruby gloom, monster high!!

i really love music to!! i listen to a lot of panic at the disco! when ryan ross was in it… ahh mm i listen to lots of different kinds of music genre so!!

i like watching documentaries of stuff!! basically!!

Will update some more :)

Until then bye bye!!

March 29th 2024

[welcometotheunknownlosers]

Im like if bennett and fischl were fused into one socially awkward mess but internally lyney so all the b’s love me until they realize that I also contain all the vengeance of wanderer and they go “omfg youre so sick and twisted?!?!” Like i have not made it clear i am not the nicest person ever and I can get mad too

[darlingi-loveyou]

uhhh even more percy jackson headcanons

- there’s always music playing in the apollo cabin. they have communal playlists, but there are times when one person gets to play dj, especially when it’s relatively empty

- everyone has to emotionally prepare for audial whiplash whenever kayla gets to play music because she puts every song she has ever liked in her entire life onto one playlist, so it can go from twenty one pilots to ethel cain to beabadoobee to fifth harmony in just fifteen minutes

- will is usually pretty lenient with who gets to play what and when (he has a few clean playlists for when there are little kids present), but on days when the infirmary is packed and he’s visibly on the verge of collapse, no one dares change it from whatever kasey musgraves song he just put on

- austin exclusively plays obscure 20+ minute-long jazz songs. austin no longer has access to the cabin 7 spotify account

- there are bi-monthly meetings with all the counselors and chiron and dionysus to discuss any problems, questions, quests, deaths, fights, complaints, and other issues

- chiron ended up helping train and appointing a few other apollo kids to take up shifts in the infirmary when will accidentally fell asleep in the middle of one of said meetings. will kept insisting it was fine and that he wasn’t overworked, but eventually gave in when nico kept having to nudge him awake and chiron had to send him back to the apollo cabin early so he could take a nap

- frank cried so hard when he saw barbie that he had to leave the theater for a minute

- drew and will went to the sweat tour together

- drew actually kind of hates that charlie xcx is only really getting properly noticed now because of brat, because she’s a huge charlie fan and has been here since “boom clap”

- ever since blood of olympus, percy is genuinely terrified of getting a nosebleed. the first time it happens is when he’s sick at college and annabeth has to coach him through a panic attack

- nico isn’t actually that invested in star wars, star trek, or any other sci-fi franchise that will obsesses over, but sits through it anyways for his boyfriend’s sake

- piper and shel dressed up as different versions of chappell roan for halloween. piper was lady liberty chappell and shel was “good luck, babe” bird chappell

- every chance they get, piper and leo meet up, get jack in the box, smoke weed, and catch up in whatever car piper stole from her dad, because it helps them both feel normal

- piper and will smoke together whenever she visits camp, usually while having a shit talk session

- sally, paul, and estelle visited percy and annabeth for family and friends weekend while they’re at school, of course, but tyson, ella, hazel, and frank, piper and leo, and nico, will, reyna, and thalia (and, by nature, the rest of the hunters) all made time to stop by at various points during family and friends

- once he realized he could occasionally get away with sneaking out of olympus in the middle of the night, ganymede developed a habit of taking a walk down the beach at camp. he ran into dionysus one night and fully expected to have to fetch some fancy wine for him, or at least go back to get his chalice, unaware of his sobriety punishment, but did a total 180 when dionysus ended up being kind to him. instead, the two of them walked and talked about how much they both hate zeus, and it ended up becoming a therapy session for ganymede (think aimee’s first session in sex education)

- sally got annabeth one of those self defense keychains before she left for school

- apollo brings meg to camp every time he goes to visit his kids. on one visit, he took her, will, kayla, austin, and nico to build-a-bear. it was meg and nico’s first time going. nico was in total awe and meg cried and hugged apollo for a minute straight

- hazel prefers cartoons and animation over live-action movies and shows

- percy is really good at watercolor. rachel tries to teach him to paint and thinks he’s a prodigy until they move onto acrylics and she realizes he was just manipulating the water

- annabeth and sally both love watching the princess bride together. percy tries to watch it three separate times for their sake, like nico does with will’s sci-fi stuff, but ends up drooling on annabeth’s shoulder by the end of the movie each time

- percy desperately wanted a water bed for years when he was younger, but neither chiron nor sally would trust him with one. he eventually begged paul to get him one as a graduation present, and he put it in his cabin at camp. it lasted less than 24 hours before he popped it and woke up in the middle of the night on top of the deflated mattress, he himself completely dry but his floor absolutely soaked. dionysus made an announcement at breakfast the next morning that any mattress filled with anything except air was prohibited, and anyone else who flooded their cabin would get stable duties for a whole week

- will doesn’t like to use his plague powers very much after tsats, but he does like to give anyone who pisses him off mild-but-annoying congestion or a lingering headache

- nico and will like to do this thing to mess with people, where nico cracks will’s back or will cracks his knuckles and he lights up, usually in front of people who don’t actually know how will’s powers work

- austin is the exception to this rule; they do it in front of him because he hates the sound of people cracking their bones

- there was a point where everyone knew that will could glow except percy. he found out the hard way when he, annabeth, nico, and will were hanging out in the jackson-blofis apartment and the power went out, and nico cracked will’s spine and will started glowing. percy was so freaked out that he screamed and woke up the rest of the house

- sometimes frank eats fistfuls of shredded cheese, for the thrill

- very rarely, rachel talks in her sleep and says indiscernible bits of prophecies, both new and old. she has no idea she does it

- apollo hates leonard cohen

pt. 1

pt. 2

pt. 3

[romerona]

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

Carmy stood in the dimly lit laundry room, hands on his hips as he glared at the washing machine like it had personally wronged him. The display panel flashed erratically, like it was trying to send an SOS in Morse code, while a faint but concerning smell of burning plastic wafted through the air.

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. All he wanted was to wash his clothes—just one normal task in a sea of chaos. Apparently, even that was asking too much.

With a frustrated sigh, he muttered curses under his breath and gave the machine a half-hearted nudge with his foot, as if that might magically revive it. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. The machine remained defiantly lifeless.

“Wow. Bold strategy. Were you planning to wrestle it next?”

The voice startled him. He turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, holding a laundry basket overflowing with brightly colored clothes. You were dressed in the epitome of Saturday comfort: an oversized t-shirt with a graphic that read 'Physics: It’s Not Rocket Science... Oh, Wait, Yes It Is,' paired with baggy sweatpants and ridiculously fluffy, colorful monster feet slippers. Your hair was slightly messy like you’d just rolled out of bed—or perhaps fought the laundry demons he was now dealing with.

Your lips curved into a teasing smile as you tilted your head. “I’m impressed. I didn’t know machines responded to passive-aggressive foot taps.”

Carmy let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t have a better idea.”

“Well,” you said, stepping into the room and setting your basket down on the counter, “I hate to break it to you, but this thing looks like it’s plotting your demise. What’s the issue? Won’t open?”

“It stopped mid-cycle,” he explained, gesturing toward the uncooperative machine. “Clothes are stuck. It’s probably fried.”

“Oof. Smells like defeat and polyester.” You crouched down to inspect the machine, tilting your head like a mechanic sizing up a stubborn engine. “Looks like it’s giving you the silent treatment. Did you try apologizing? Promising to separate your whites and darks next time?”

“Funny,” Carmy deadpanned, though the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

You straightened up, planting your hands on your hips in a stance that could only be described as authoritative. “Well, lucky for you, Carmy-next-door, I happen to be an expert in broken things.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. “Yeah? How’s that?”

You let out a playful scoff, crouching in front of the washing machine as if it were a patient in need of your expertise. “When you work in a place that runs on shoestring budgets and prayers, you pick up a thing or two about fixing stuff. I’ve practically got a minor in MacGyver-ing. It’s part of my many talents.”

He smirked, watching as you pressed a few buttons and tapped the side of the machine like you were coaxing it back to life. “Sounds like a tough gig.”

“Oh, it’s a blast,” you replied sarcastically with a grin, peering at the machine’s latch. “But the real fun is my lovely fourth graders and their… slippery fingers. Nothing keeps you on your toes like finding out your class stapler’s been dismantled to ‘see how it works.’”

“And you adore them,” Carmy guessed, his voice soft but sure.

“Ugh, to a fault,” you admitted, sitting back on your heels to glance at him. “They’re chaos in human form, but they’re my chaos. Like when Marcus decided to see if he could use glitter glue as a bookmark. Spoiler alert: he couldn’t. And then there was Kayla’s science project that involved exactly zero science but a lot of snacks. Kids are wild, but they’re kind of the best.”

Carmy chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shook his head. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

You huff a laugh nodding. “But they make all the broken stuff worth it... also, they’ve prepared me for moments like this. Fixing things? I’m a pro. Diffusing meltdowns? Also a pro. Dodging paper balls? Let’s just say my reflexes are unmatched.”

He chuckled quietly, his blue eyes softening as he observed your easy confidence. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Oh, hardly,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh.

He watched as you tinkered with the inner workings of the washer, the way your monster-footed slippers stuck out behind you, and the light in your eyes as you spoke about your students. There was something captivating about the way you moved—confident but never overbearing, your words spilling out in an endless stream of humor and warmth. For someone who probably dealt with endless chaos in your day-to-day life, you had an energy about you—warmth—messy and vibrant—that felt oddly grounding in his otherwise muted world.

Finally, with a triumphant click, the washer’s door popped open. A puff of warm, damp air escaped, carrying with it the faint scent of detergent. You rocked back on your heels, grinning up at him as if you’d just disarmed a bomb.

“And there you have it!” you declared standing up, sweeping your arm dramatically toward the liberated laundry like a game show host revealing a grand prize. “Your clothes are finally free, Chef Carmy. Laundry liberation, courtesy of yours truly. I accept gratitude in the form of snacks, coffee, or eternal admiration—your choice. But please, no autographs. I have to stay humble.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Carmy said, huffing a quiet laugh as he shook his head, stepping forward to start transferring the damp clothes into another machine. His tone softened slightly as he added, “But thanks, really. I owe you one.”

You waved a hand dismissively, already moving to the next machine with your own basket in tow.

“Don’t worry about it, Carmy…” you said, your tone casual, though the smirk playing on your lips suggested otherwise. “But, if you do feel like you want to repay me, feel free to bring me more of those leftovers—like the ones you brought when I first moved in.”

He paused, eyebrows raising slightly as he met your gaze. “That’s what you want? Leftovers?”

“Not just any leftovers,” you clarified, turning back to load more clothes. “The fancy ones. Braised short ribs, perfectly roasted vegetables... whatever culinary magic you’re whipping up in that kitchen of yours. Don’t think I forgot.”

Carmy paused mid-transfer, glancing at you with a faint, almost embarrassed smile. “You liked those, huh?”

“Liked?” you scoffed, tossing a pair of socks into the machine. “I was ready to write you a thank-you sonnet. That braised short rib? Poetry in food form. You’ve ruined me for takeout forever.”

He chuckled softly, shutting the door to his machine. “It was just a test recipe.”

“Well, then I’d be happy to test more of your recipes,” you said with a wink, starting your own machine and leaning back against it. “Strictly as a favor, of course. I’m nothing if not generous.”

“Generous,” he repeated, shaking his head with a smirk as he pressed the start button on his machine. He glanced at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

“See?” you teased, flashing him a grin. “You’re already getting the hang of this whole neighborly exchange thing. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my expectations high.”

Carmy shook his head, letting out another quiet laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you quipped, settling yourself into the nearby chair and grabbing a book from the empty laundry basket at your feet. You opened it casually, like you weren’t fully aware of the fact that his attention was still on you. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Chef Carmy. I’ve got standards now.”

Carmy smirked faintly, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter, arms loosely crossed. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, watching as you flipped through the book, completely at ease. The light in the room, though dim and slightly yellowed, softened your features, making you look... warm. Pretty, even. The oversized t-shirt, the messy hair, and those ridiculous monster slippers didn’t detract from it—in fact, they only made you more endearing. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Instead, he tucked the thought neatly into the back of his mind, letting it sit there quietly.

The faint hum of the working washing machine filled the space, stretching the silence between you into something that felt oddly comfortable. He wasn’t used to that—not in conversations, not in moments like these. Usually, silence felt heavy, awkward, something to be broken. But this? This felt... different.

Still, the need to say something eventually won out, despite his lack of finesse with small talk. Clearing his throat softly, Carmy shifted his weight and finally asked, “So... uh, how are you liking it here?”

You glanced up from your book, your lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “In the building? Or in the laundry room?”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh, looking down briefly before meeting your eyes again. “The biulding, I guess."

“Oh, it’s not bad,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “The walls are a little thin—I may or may not know the entire plot of the soap opera your upstairs neighbor is binging—but they are decent. A little quiet, though, except for one guy who keeps kicking appliances. Total menace.”

“Sounds rough,” Carmy deadpanned, though his smirk gave him away.

“It is,” you said with mock solemnity before your smile softened. “But honestly? I like it. It’s... cozy, you know? Feels like a place where things can settle down.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor. “That’s good.”

“It’s growing on me,” you admitted, closing the book and resting it on your lap. “I mean, it’s not every day you move into a building and immediately make friends with someone who’s probably going to be on the cover of Some Fancy Chef Magazine someday.”

“Friends?” he said, arching a brow.

“Yeah, friends,” you replied with a teasing grin. “Or at least laundry room acquaintances.”

He shook his head, his smirk softening into something closer to genuine. “Friend's better.”

"Good," You smiled, shifting slightly in your chair. “So, Carmy-next-door, aside from working and battling possessed washing machines, what do you do for fun?”

“For fun?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as though you’d just asked him to name every spice in his kitchen alphabetically. “Uh... I don’t know. Not sure I’ve got much time for that.”

“Not buying it,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Everyone’s got something. Come on, spill. What’s your guilty pleasure? Do you secretly knit in your downtime? Binge-watch trashy reality TV? Start a garden but refuse to tell anyone because it ruins your ‘serious chef’ vibe? And if you are, I know someone who could be your new best friend.”

He let out another quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “None of those, but now I’m thinking I should start knitting just to throw people off.”

“Do it,” you said, pointing at him. “Then you can make me a scarf. But seriously, what’s your thing? There’s gotta be something.”

Carmy hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “I guess... sometimes I’ll just walk around the city. Clears my head, you know?”

You nodded, smiling softly. “That’s a solid choice. City walks are like people-watching with a side of fresh air. What’s your favorite spot?”

“There's this park near the river. Quiet, not too crowded. Good place to think." Carmy tells her.

"Sounds nice," you replied, smiling. "I might have to check it out sometime."

"You should," Carmy said, his expression softening. He clears his throat, "I-uh, I used to draw, though. Sketch stuff when I had the time.”

“Used to?” you asked, leaning forward a bit, intrigued. “You mean you don’t anymore? Or are you just too modest to admit you’ve got sketchbooks hidden under your bed?”

His smirk faltered into something a little more genuine, a touch of shyness creeping into his expression. “I still do. Sometimes. When things aren’t too crazy.”

“Now that’s interesting,” you said, sitting back with a thoughtful smile. “What kind of stuff do you draw? People? Landscapes? Elaborate food masterpieces?”

“A little of everything,” he said with a small shrug. “But mostly recipes, or at least how I want them to look."

“Like a visual diary,” you said, nodding. “That’s actually really cool.”

“Yeah, well...” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing big.”

“Carmy,” you said, tilting your head at him. “You just admitted to having an actual hobby, and I’m here for it. Don’t downplay it.”

He huffed, shaking his head flushing ever so slightly. “Alright. What about you? What do you do for fun?”

“Me?” you repeated, your eyes lighting up as you sat back in the chair, clutching your book like a prop in a comedy routine. “Well, let’s see. I’m a professional daydreamer, certified in overthinking, and an expert-level snack enthusiast. It’s an impressive resume, I know.”

Carmy chuckled, the corner of his mouth twitching into a rare smile. “Sounds like a full-time job.”

“Oh, it is,” you said with a mock-serious nod. “But if we’re being serious... I like to read, obviously.” You held up the book for emphasis. “And I’m a sucker for a good movie. Big screen, small screen, doesn’t matter. I also like to go out with friends— go to clubs, a karaoke bar, grab dinner, play board games, complain about life. You know, the usual.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “Any favorites? Books or movies?”

“Hmm,” you mused, tapping your chin. “For books, I like a little bit of everything—mysteries, fantasy, even the occasional cheesy romance. Keeps life interesting. And movies... I’m a sucker for feel-good comedies. But every now and then, I’ll binge something dark and broody just to balance it out.”

Carmy nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Feel-good comedies? Got any recommendations?”

“Oh, I’ve got tons,” you said, your eyes gleaming. “But only if you’re ready for some real classics. Think Clueless, The Princess Bride, or When Harry Met Sally. If you’ve never seen those, we might have to reassess this friendship.”

“Clueless,” he repeated, remembering the movie because of Natalie who forced him and Mikey to watch it, one eyebrow-raising. “That the one with ‘As if’?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, pointing at him with enthusiasm. “See? You’re already on the right track.”

He smirked, shaking his head again. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“What about you? Do you watch movies, or is that too much fun for someone as serious as Chef Carmy?”

He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I watch stuff sometimes. Nothing specific. Just... whatever’s on.”

“Lame answer,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ll work on that. I’ll make you a list. Everyone needs go-to favorite movies.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said, his smirk softening.

“Good,” you replied with a playful nod, leaning back in your chair. “And since you’re such a layer enigma, like an onion, I’m guessing you don’t do the whole ‘night out with friends’ thing often?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “Doesn’t happen much.”

“You should,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your tone teasing but warm. “You might surprise yourself. One minute you’re awkwardly standing in a corner, and the next, you’re reenacting a dance scene from Dirty Dancing with a stranger. That’s how the best stories happen.”

Carmy shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Not sure that’s my thing.”

“Hey, it doesn’t have to be Dirty Dancing,” you said with a shrug. “But everyone deserves a good night out now and then. Even mysterious chef-next-door types.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But no promises.”

“Fair,” you replied, looking over at him with a soft smile. “I’m just saying, Chef Carmy, you can’t live in your kitchen forever. Sometimes you’ve gotta step out and find your own rom-com moment.”

Carmy stared at you for a moment, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. He shook his head, as though amused by something he couldn’t quite put into words, but the warmth in his expression lingered.

The hum of the machines filled the room, a soft backdrop to your easy conversation. What started as playful banter drifted into more thoughtful exchanges—small glimpses into each other’s lives, quirks, and histories.

Minutes melted into what felt like seconds, neither of you noticing the time slipping away. For once, it wasn’t about schedules, responsibilities, or the ever-present noise of the outside world. Just two neighbors sharing stories in the glow of the laundry room’s dim light.

A/N: So, thank you so much for all the support. It really keeps me going. I'm thinking of making like a small series of this, like a few interactions before they started dating- maybe some jealousy along the way lol- the first date- maybe the future but idk.

Also, just in case I do, please tell me if you would like to be tagged.

Part 4?

@themorriganisamonster

[aceorei]

𝓛𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝓜𝔂 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 : T𝗁𝖾 E𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍 𓊈✧𓊉

ㅤ; “With the delicate movements of ink, hearts unfold, ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThrough written words, our love is told. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Through great distances or time apart, ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤEvery letter contains a fragment of the heart.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤSome evoke laughter, some evoke tears, ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ They bring aspirations, and dispel the fears. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Though paper may fades, the love remains, ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤA bridge across life’s fragile chains .. ”

ㅤ“ .. ” — 𑁍 Through this event, let your heart pour free—all the burdens it bears, all the love it keeps; for family, friends, lovers, or your very own soul. 𖧷 Write what aches, and what heals, and what makes you whole.

ㅤㅤㅤ𝓖uidelines.

ㅤ♡૨ to enter the event, you need to comment "joining" on this post, reblog this post and tag 3+ blogs or mutuals.

ㅤ♡૨ you need to make a moodboard along with a letter to your loved ones; it can be your family, your friends, your lover, your mutuals, your favorite idols & characters, or even for yourself.

ㅤ♡૨ moodboard must be 90% made by you (using locs and dividers from other blog is okay).

ㅤ♡૨ the letter doesn't have to seem like a "love" letter, you can express literally any feelings. your letter can be written as a pic (so you put it as a part of your moodboard) or you can put it on alt text.

ㅤ♡૨ you need to use the tag "ㅤ𝓛𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠ㅤ𝑡𝑜ㅤ𝓜𝔂ㅤ𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮ㅤ:ㅤT𝗁𝖾ㅤE𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍ㅤ𓊈✧𓊉" and tag me in your post or comment section so i will be able to see your entry.

ㅤ♡૨ one person can post up to 2 entries and you are free to edit your entries until the deadline.

ㅤ♡૨ deadline on March 14th. feel free to dm me if you need extension or have any question, i would love to help.

ㅤ♡૨ following me isn't required, but will be greatly appreciated ♡

ㅤㅤㅤ𝓟rizes.

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@sugarish @crylynnluv @fairytopea @jenfaery @heavenurl @y-vna @p-oisn @soulari @minslune @dojeoies @yonkiibums @vivrhan @gaecoo @khaer @n-americano @awwriri @lvioung @trivijoy @i-mmaculatus @tzulipss @yeoniis @florescita @daddldee @y-unrei @ningrlz @rkkuri @beompercar @purinkiss @flutterdashes @chaeryeos @aeraras @webzzo @fiorais @luvcsbn @haobae @lilaquette @yuqi-luv @aeraras @tyaeo @daiscya @luvcsbn @y-urios + and more . . . (feel free to ignore or ask me to remove the tag!)

ㅤㅤ— with ♡ , kayla.

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[pedroscurls]

christmas confessions (pt. 1 - day 1)

summary: spending the morning with logan before you go back home for the holidays, you suddenly get bad news that you're unable to fly home due to the severe weather. pairing: origins!logan howlett x fem!reader content warnings: slow burn, best friends (who are deeply in love with each other but don't want to say anything) trope(?) lmao, best friends to lovers, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n. word count: 3k a/n: alright y'all, happy december 1st! i'm gonna slightly deviate from the movie, but otherwise, everything will remain the same. anyway, we're in for a ride for these two so stay tuned 🙂‍↕️ pt 2. | series masterlist.

When moving to the Canadian Rockies almost five years ago, you hadn’t expected to fall in love with the area and you certainly hadn’t expected to befriend one very gruff and very handsome mutant– Logan. A man whose tough exterior didn’t deter you from striking a conversation with him one early morning at the local coffee shop. You could tell from the moment you met him that he was a man who preferred to be alone, that this was a man who had been scarred from traumatic events from his life. 

You were new to the area, Logan knew that much. You had turned to him while in line and asked him what drink he would recommend. Logan had gotten used to keeping to himself, after the events of losing Kayla and then killing Stryker, he just wanted to live the rest of his days in his cabin. Alone, just like how it should be. 

But you had looked at him with the kindest eyes he’s ever seen and a smile that made his heart flutter at the sight. When he lost Kayla, he had vowed to himself that he wasn’t going to commit himself to anyone – that he was better off alone because everyone he cared about, everyone he loved, would eventually get hurt because of him. He had thought Kayla was the turning point in his life, the person that he was going to spend the rest of his days with, but Logan was always meant to be alone. He understood that now. 

So despite the frequent visits to the coffee shop every morning before work, Logan knew that he wouldn’t ever be able to cross that boundary with you. Even though he made sure to arrive every morning at six – just so he can have a brief, five minute conversation with you – Logan knew that nothing could ever happen. 

But as your friendship with him grew, so did his feelings for you. 

What Logan didn’t know was just how deeply in love you were with him. 

The quick morning conversations while in line for coffee soon turned into having dinner once a week. You would normally go over to his place, having fallen in love with the view when stepping out of his cabin, but sometimes, he’d come by to your apartment on the way home from work. Your friendship with him blossomed, but you couldn’t help the way you felt about him. 

It had taken him almost six months for him to tell you just exactly who he was. Logan didn’t know how you would react, but there was a part of him that expected you to realize that you no longer wanted nothing to do with him. So when he told you that he was a mutant, showed you his claws, and mentioned how he had hurt many people, Logan was surprised by your reaction. How gentle and kind you were, the look in your eyes, the light touch of your fingertips against the tip of his claws – you weren’t afraid. He didn’t realize just how much of a relief he felt, how the weight on his shoulders finally lifted when he told you. 

Logan knew that night he loved you, but he knew that nothing could ever happen. So he continued to love you silently, without your knowledge, because not only could he lose you, but he didn’t want to ruin this. 

And now, five years later since you both met, the feelings you felt for each other only strengthened. Neither of you had ever made a move, had ever crossed that boundary from friends to lovers. You were aware of the hurt and pain Logan carried with him – you knew about Kayla, about Stryker, about his past. So you kept your feelings to yourself, held him at arm’s length. Logan was your best friend and you didn’t want to ruin that. 

–

DAY 1 — You pull up to Logan’s cabin, the view just as breathtaking as it was the first time you were here. You wanted to spend the morning with him before you had to leave for the holidays. Logan never was a big fan of Christmas, not really finding the need to celebrate, and he had declined your plenty of offers over the last few years about having him come with you. 

You step inside his home, the warmth from the fireplace radiating throughout his house. You remove your coat and beanie, unraveling your scarf and placing it on the coat rack near the door. Gently stomping on the mat, removing any residue of the snow from outside, you reach down and pull off your boots. 

“Logan,” you call out, walking further into his home and down the hallway. You see him sitting on the couch, dressed in his usual flannel and jeans with a cup of coffee in his hand and his journal on his lap. 

“In here,” he replies, setting his journal on the coffee table and standing up to greet you. 

“It’s coming down out there,” you tell him, leaning in to give him a hug. Your arms wrap around him, cheek resting against his chest as he rests his chin atop your head and his own arms snake around your waist. 

Logan just nods in response, holding you in his arms like this had always been the closest he could get. He would imagine what it’d be like to hold you in his arms while in bed, having you curl against him and –

“Did you make me coffee too?” You ask, pulling him away from his thoughts. You remove your arms around him and look down at his mug, arching a brow up at him. 

“I don’t have all the fancy, sugary drinks you normally like to order,” he teases. “But I did make a pot.”  

“Fancy, sugary drinks,” you scoff, following him into his kitchen. “If I remember correctly, you actually liked one of those fancy, sugary drinks. Even got whipped cream on one of them.”

Logan rolls his eyes and grabs a mug for you from his cupboard, a small smile lining his lips. “Sure, but I don’t have them as often as you do.” He pours the dark coffee into the mug and gently hands it to you, feeling your fingertips brush against his when you take the mug from him. He clears his throat, looking down at his own cup. He knows how much you love the holidays, how important they are to you and your family, but he can’t help the tug he feels in his chest when you leave. You’re usually gone until New Year’s Day and even though you call him on Christmas and on New Year’s Eve, it isn’t the same as having you here with him. 

“Hey, a vanilla latte isn’t fancy and isn’t sugary,” you reply, once more taking him out of his thoughts. 

“Oh, we both know that’s not the only drink you get,” Logan chuckles. 

You let out a quiet laugh, immediately going into his fridge to grab the carton of sweetener that he only keeps for you. You’ve been at his cabin so frequently that sometimes it feels like you live here, how comfortable and at home you feel here with him. Your family knows about Logan, knows how you feel about him, and every year, they always ask if you’re finally going to bring him home. 

But every year, you come home alone despite your heart yearning to stay with Logan for the holidays. 

“So, you all set for your flight?” Logan asks, resting his hip against his kitchen island. “You’re gone for two weeks, right?” 

“Yup, all set. My luggage is in my car outside.” You nod, pouring the sweetener into your mug. You watch the dark liquid turn into a light cream color, glancing up at Logan who’s grinning at you. “Yeah, I’m gone for two weeks.” 

Logan nods at your mug, a smirk on his lips. “Would you like some coffee with that cream?” 

“Ha ha,” you smile, placing the creamer back into his fridge. “What will you do during the holidays, Logan?” You ask, though you know his answer. 

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “You know I don’t really celebrate the holidays.” 

“But it’s Christmas. You should really decorate, maybe get into the festive spirit.”

“Not my thing, bub, and you know that.” 

“I know, figured maybe this year something would give,” you say quietly. 

Logan bites the inside of his cheek as he looks at you, tilting his head slightly as he watches you take a sip of your coffee. “Wouldn’t hold out hope,” he replies. “I’m not one to celebrate.” 

“What if I said I got you a gift?” You ask, setting your mug down on the kitchen island. 

“I’d say you shouldn’t have and you should probably return it.” 

You narrow your eyes and round the corner of the island to stand in front him. Inches separate your bodies as you stare up at him – gaze so innocent, so inviting, so warm. “What if I made it?” 

Logan sighs. “Bub…”

“You know, we go through this every year,” you chuckle. “I’m always going to get you something for Christmas.” 

Logan looks down at you and he suddenly gets an urge to pull you into him, to tell you that despite his stubbornness, he appreciates you and everything you do for him. He knows he isn’t deserving of you, but he’s so grateful that you decide to stick around, even after all these years. Even after all that you know. 

“I promise I didn’t spend any money on it.” 

“Okay,” he sighs with a nod. 

“But, you’ll have to open it on Christmas Day.” 

Logan chuckles. “Do I gotta call you when I open it too?” 

You grin, your smile meeting your eyes. “Obviously.” 

Suddenly, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you step back and away from Logan to pull it from your pocket. You look down at the email you received and feel your heart drop, your face falling and your smile slowly disappearing. 

“Everything okay?” Logan asks, brows furrowed at the look on your face. 

“My flight’s been canceled,” you whisper. “They anticipate a heavy snowstorm. I won’t be able to go home for Christmas…” 

Logan bites his lower lip. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

“I don’t even think I can drive back to my apartment either.” 

“So, I’m stuck with you?” Logan teases, hoping that it’d lift your spirits, but he doesn’t see a smile on your face. Your eyes are still glued to the phone in your hand and he gently reaches out to rest a hand on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You can stay here, at least until it’s safe to drive back down.” 

“Logan,” you sigh, looking up at him. “I’m sure you don’t want me staying here for a week.”

Logan shrugs. “Would be nice to have some company,” he admits. 

“I just can’t believe I won’t make it home.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know how important the holidays are for you and your family.” 

You flash him a sad smile and then point to your phone. “I should probably let my parents know.” 

“Right, yeah. I’ll go and fix up the guest bedroom for you.” Logan drops his hand from your arm and turns on his heel, beginning to walk away before he feels your hand gently wrap around his own. 

“Logan?” 

“Yeah, bub?” He responds, turning back around to face you as you keep a hold on his hand. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I promise not to be too festive.” Then, you release your hold on his hand and turn around to walk into the living room.

Logan watches you for a moment, biting his lower lip. He realizes that while he feels an excitement bubbling within him at the thought of you staying here, he also feels anxious. Nervous. Scared. He doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to keep his feelings to himself for the entire week. 

After about an hour, Logan finishes cleaning up the guest bedroom and bathroom. He finds you lying down on his couch, arm draped over your eyes and your phone resting on his coffee table. He bites his lower lip and walks over to you, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Hey,” he whispers. 

You remove your arm from over your eyes and look up at him, sitting up on the couch to give him some room to sit next to you. “Hey,” you reply. 

“How’d the family take it?” He asks, sitting next to you. 

“Disappointed, like me, but they did tell me to tell you thank you.” 

Logan arches a brow. “Thank me? Why?” 

“Well, as my dad said: tell him thank you for taking care of my little girl.” You bite your lower lip, unsure of how Logan would react. “Sorry, my dad’s just–”

“Well, when you get a chance to talk to him again,” Logan interjects. “Tell him I’m happy to be taking care of her.” 

You slowly look up at him as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. When you find that his eyes are already gazing at you, you clear your throat almost inaudibly. You don’t know how you’re going to stay sane this next week, being under the same roof as Logan – a man you’re so deeply in love with. You have to wonder if being snowed in with Logan and unable to go home is the universe’s way of bringing you both together… in a way that neither of you had the courage to. 

“Let me grab your luggage before the weather gets worse,” Logan says. 

“Oh, yeah, of course. Thank you,” you respond, grabbing your keys and placing it in his hand. 

“The bedroom and bathroom are all set for you.” Logan takes your keys, his own hand encompassing your own as he stares down at you. He can see the sadness in your eyes, the disappointment in your features. He then tugs on your hand, pulling you into his chest as his other arm comes up to wrap around your shoulders. 

You sigh quietly, arms wrapping around his midsection as you let your cheek rest against his hardened chest. You shut your eyes – you had always felt so safe in his arms. You can feel his large hand running along your back, causing you to lean further into him. 

“We’ll make the most of this next week,” Logan promises. 

“But you don’t like to celebrate the holidays,” you whisper, pulling back to look up at him.

He shrugs in response. “Maybe I just didn’t have someone to celebrate it with.”

You scoff, pulling away to see him with a teasing smile on his face. “I’ve been asking you to come back home with me for years now.”

Logan chuckles and walks towards the door, pulling on his coat as he stares at you. “Maybe I want you all to myself for the holidays. Ever think of that, sweetheart?” he winks, not giving you a chance to respond before he steps out into the snow to grab your luggage from the car. 

You let out a shaky breath and fall back onto the couch. God, you don’t know how you’re going to survive this next week with him. 

—

Later that night while you’re getting ready for bed, Logan – dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and his white tank top – leans against the doorframe of the bedroom. He crosses his arms over his chest, tilts his head to the side, and lets a small smile line his lips at the sight of you. 

“Hey,” he calls out softly. 

You turn around, hair damp from your shower and dressed in black sleep shorts and an oversized cropped t-shirt. “Hey,” you answer.

“Need anything before I turn in?” Logan asks.

You shake your head and close your suitcase, setting it off to the side. “Thank you,” you whisper quietly. “For letting me stay here.” 

Logan crosses the threshold and steps into the guest bedroom with you, walking towards you. “Better than being snowed in at the airport.” 

“Ah, yeah. That would have been a nightmare.” you bite your lower lip, his body now inches from your own. You yearn to reach out for him, to feel his body heat against yours. “Either way, thank you, Logan. I owe you.”

Logan chuckles and shakes his head, moving his hands into his pockets. “You gonna be okay?” 

You shrug. “Guess the holidays will be different this year.” 

“At least you got me.”

You smile, looking at him from the tops of your eyelashes. “Yeah, I’ll settle for you,” you tease.

Logan laughs, shaking his head. He glances around the room and bites the inside of his cheek, bringing a hand to run through his hair. “Well, just wanted to say good night.” 

“Good night, Logan.”

“And if you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

“And if you need anything, I’ll be right here.” Your eyes soften at him, knowing that Logan’s nightmares become more frequent at night. 

Logan nods and leans down, gently kissing your temple as his hand rests on your hip. He feels your skin against his fingertips, the cropped shirt you’re wearing lifting just enough for a sliver of skin to be revealed. “I know,” he whispers. “You’ve always been right here for me.” Then, he slowly pulls away and turns on his heel to walk towards the door. He spares you another glance from over his shoulder and flashes you a warm smile before he shuts the door behind him.

Logan sighs and walks towards his living room, taking note of how bare his home looks. He glances at the clock and then looks down the hallway at your closed door. Logan didn’t like to celebrate the holidays, but he knew how important it was to you. He knew the storm was only going to get increasingly worse, so he decides to pull on a pair of boots, a thick coat, and a black beanie before he grabs his keys to his truck – determined to surprise you tomorrow morning.

---

taglist: @kellyxo1 @misscrissfemmefatale @mooneyloveydovey @oatmilkriver @jtheteenagewitch

[cherrynflowergarden]

જ⁀➴ midnight kiss || matt sturniolo

sturniolo masterlist taglist

the room was a whirl of color and chatter, with shimmering lights and upbeat music setting the scene for the year-end party. matt leaned against the wall, nursing a glass of sparkling water while keeping a watchful eye on his girlfriend, who was in the center of the room, laughing and dancing with a group of friends.

he couldn’t help but smile. she was glowing in her outfit, a stunning shimmery black dress she’d picked out after much deliberation. every so often, her gaze would drift to him, and when their eyes met, his usual ‘i’d be anywhere but here’ demeanor softened into something so tender.

as the countdown to midnight began, the crowd around them grew louder. someone turned the music down, and the collective excitement surged.

“ten… nine…eight…seven…”

she made her way through the crowd, her heart racing. she could feel matt’s eyes on her, the intensity of his gaze like a magnet pulling her closer.

“six…five… four…”

she reached him, her face lighting up with a smile that could rival the new year fireworks. “hi,” she said breathlessly, tilting her head up to meet his eyes.

“three…two… one…”

“happy new year!”

cheers erupted around them, but it all seemed to fade as matt set his drink down and cupped her face with his calloused hands. without a word, he leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss—soft, deliberate, and full of the promise of the new year.

she completely melted into him, her arms winding around his neck. the noise of the party disappeared entirely, replaced by the sound of her heartbeat and the feel of his lips against hers. when they finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, and he looked at her like she was the only person in the room.

“happy new year, love” he murmured, his voice low but filled with emotion.

she grinned, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “happy new year, matt.”

and just like that, the year began, wrapped in the warmth of their love.

an; HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVIES I LOVE YOU GUYS SM URG it's 3 am as i post this heh :3

tags; @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-bell @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf @blahbel668 @my-dinos-life-is-good @ssturniolo92 @lilly6110 @lou-larcher5 @arminluvrr @mxryxmfooty @gabri3la-sturns @bellsboops @f1-and-shiz @emely9274 @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @kayla-hearts4sturniolo @unx100to @strnlslut

@mattslovergirlie @sarakpalsd @sweetobservationface @shadowthesim @mattslolita @cupiidk1lls @urloveanaa @t1llysblog @meatball10 @fiowerbeds

[azzibuckets]

in awe of everything you do [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi reunite after paige signs onto the la sparks and azzi sees her play for the first time live

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

As soon as the team found their seats and started filing into the rows, Azzi’s eyes scanned the court for Paige, looking for braids and a ponytail. It was hard to distinguish blonde hair admist the bright yellow Sparks jerseys, but she was finally able to spot Paige on the sidelines, running after a stray ball. Shoulders relaxing, she smiled at Paige’s eagerness to rebound balls, knowing how nervous her girlfriend was as a rookie on the team.

“Did she see us yet?” KK said excitedly, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

“Probably not. We’ll know when we hear a thud - miss thing is gonna pass out once she sees Azzi,” Ice joked, earning a fist bump from KK and a playful nudge from Azzi.

In truth, Azzi was nervous, almost like she was seven years younger with a schoolgirl crush. Azzi had so badly wanted to tell Paige about how the team was going to LA for a Dunkin media event, but the other girls insisted on keeping it a surprise. On the plane ride over, she’d opened their text messages at least a hundred times, fingers hovering over the keyboard. But once Jana had seen her pick up her phone for the fifteenth time, she’d stolen it out of her hands and refused to give it back in fear that she’d ruin the surprise.

But now Azzi was here, finally watching her girlfriend play in the WNBA for the first time live. Her chest thrummed in anticipation with seeing Paige shine on the court, but even more so for the after. With how busy Paige was after getting drafted, Azzi hadn’t been able to fly out yet - the last time they’d seen each other in person was when she’d dropped Paige off at the airport, and that was two months ago. Which would be tame for some people, but for the past four years they’d seen each other almost every day, and two months was almost unthinkable.

Of course, Azzi had known she would miss her girlfriend once she’d left. She knew she’d miss cuddling Paige to sleep and kissing her when they woke up, and all the other romantic shit that everyone talks about. But she didn’t know how much she’d miss just talking to Paige, debating about the most stupid topics on the car or discussing their future late at night in the stillness of their rooms. So yeah, she’d missed her girlfriend, but she’s also missed her best friend.

•••

As soon as the buzzer signaled the end of the first quarter, Paige tiredly made her way to the huddle, wiping the sweat that had been stinging the corner of her eyes. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, too bothered by how empty and cold the bed had felt. Paige knew she should be perfectly happy - here she was, in the city of angels, getting to live out her dream career and play with the most amazing veterans. But no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn’t ignore the aching in her heart, the constant Azzi-shaped hole that made her feel like life out here, life away from tan skin and dimpled cheeks, could never fully fulfill her.

“Good hustle out there.” Kia thumped her on the back, bringing Paige back to her senses. Paige smiled appreciatively at the older woman. As she tilted her water bottle to her mouth, she scanned the crowds, admiring the lively atmosphere and the rowdy support of the fans.

Paige did a double take. “KK?” she murmured to herself, taking a step forward. Still unable to get a good look, she scanned the people next to what looked like her old teammate and realized with a jolt that the entire UConn team was here. Familiar faces morphed into view - Jana, Ice, Aubrey, Ayanna, even Kayla. Paige’s heart started thumping faster as her eyes flicked from person to person, searching for the one face that hadn’t left her mind in two months. Where was Azzi? Did she not come? Why wasn’t she with the girls?

A hand clapped her shoulder. “Come on,” Cameron said, firmly guiding her back to the court. Paige shook her head, trying to stay focused on the game. She forced herself to keep her gaze away from the crowds, knowing that if she started wondering about Azzi’s whereabouts, she’d get distracted, something she couldn’t afford as a rookie still trying to prove her worth.

But when a foul was called and Hamby lined up at the free throw line, she allowed herself to take just one peek at where her old team was sitting. Still no Azzi. But wait. There was someone now approaching the row, and it looked like Azzi but she couldn’t be too sure, but now she’s turning her head and….

Azzi.

Azzi, holding a stupid cup of ice cream, a spoon in her mouth and a look of concentration on her face as she scooted past the girls to take her seat. Paige shook her head and smiled, chastising herself for being so worried. She should’ve known - Azzi loved her ice cream.

But Paige was suddenly nervous, her palms damp with sweat as she realized that she’d been playing in front of Azzi live for the first time without even knowing. But her smile slowly turned cocky as she realized how badly she’d been wanting to show off in front of her girlfriend. With this newfound motivation, Paige suddenly felt on fire. After scoring her 15th point of the night, she made sure to point to Azzi as she ran back on defense. And when Azzi ducked her head at the attention, flustered, Paige made sure to memorize that little moment, of Azzi’s cheeks flushing a cute shade of red, with an affectionate smile tugging at her lips, as she shook her head at all the girls now waggling their eyebrows and making kissy faces at Azzi.

••••

As soon as the game ended, the girls made their way down to the court, all of them talking about how well Paige performed. Azzi hovered in the back, letting the rest of the girls greet her first, giving herself time to collect herself from the nerves kicking her ass. She didn’t know why she felt like this - never before had she been unsure of what to say to Paige. But it had been so long, and she didn’t want to do anything that would expose their relationship in front of all the cameras.

After all the girls took their turn hugging Paige and congratulating her on the game, the team parted for Azzi, all of them busying themselves with staring at the ceiling or inspecting their nails. Azzi rolled her eyes at their conspicuousness, but appreciated the privacy they were making an effort to give.

The younger girl swallowed, stepping from behind the girls. She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “Hey,” she said, deciding to let Paige make the first move.

Paige met her eyes, and her pupils held stars. “Hey, you,” Paige murmured, letting her hands fall to Azzi’s hips to pull her in for a hug.

Azzi buried her head in Paige’s shoulder, deeply inhaling. Despite running back and forth on the court, Paige still smelled amazing. “You going all shy on me now?” Paige breathed into her ear, and Azzi let out a small laugh.

When they separated, Paige let her hands remain on Azzi’s waist, thumb absent mindedly stroking the skin exposed from her crop top. “God, I’ve missed you so much,” Paige said quietly, letting herself study her girlfriend’s face and take in every gorgeous detail. Her heart twinged. Facetimes didn’t do Azzi justice. How had she spent so long away from the most beautiful thing in the world?

Azzi bit her lip. “There’s cameras,” she reminded her.

Paige’s eyes furrowed in confusion. “I haven’t done anything?”

“The way you’re looking at me is enough.”

Paige rolled her eyes, folding the younger girl into another hug and squeezing her tight. “Fuck the cameras,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about this for way too long.”

Azzi giggled. “Thanks for the shout out,” she said, referencing Paige’s 3 point celebration from earlier. “I was very flattered.”

Paige smirked. “Can you tell that I was trying to impress you?”

“You don’t need to try and impress me. I’m already in awe of everything you do,” Azzi responded seriously, her hand lightly touching Paige’s elbow.

If Paige had had a ring with her, she would’ve proposed right then and there. But instead, she forced herself to tuck her hands in her pockets so that she wouldn’t do anything she’d regret later (like grabbing Azzi to kiss the living daylights out of her).

“Distance has turned you into quite the romantic, huh?” Paige teased.

Before Azzi could reply, KK inserted herself between the two. “Oh-kayyy,” she laughed nervously. “All this flirting is cute and shit but there’s about five hundred fans standing three feet away waiting for pictures.”

Paige rubbed her temple. She loved her fans, but all she wanted to do right now was be at home, in a bed that would finally be not so lonely. Azzi must’ve noticed the expression in the blonde’s eyes, because she gave her a nudge. “Don’t worry,” she reassured. “I’m here for two weeks. We have loads of time. Go meet your fans, I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Jus wanna be with you,” Paige whispered, dismissing any care for the eyes watching as she brushed her fingers against Azzi’s hand.

“Just a few minutes, love.”

•••

As soon as Paige climbed into the rental car, her mouth was on Azzi’s, greedily savoring the taste of her best friend’s lips. Her hands were everywhere, stroking Azzi’s jaw, running through Azzi’s hair, trailing down Azzi’s back. “I can’t get enough of you,” Paige panted when they pulled away for air and rested their foreheads against each other.

Azzi chuckled, letting her thumb run across Paige’s bottom lip. “You have no idea how hard it was keeping this a surprise from you. Jana had to take away my phone.”

“I wouldn’t care if all the fans stopped coming to watch us play,” Paige admitted. “As long as you’re there.”

“As the only person in the audience?” Azzi raised her eyebrows, a grin etched on her face.

“Especially if you were the only person in the audience.” Paige leaned forward, her lips hovering over Azzi’s jaw. “Then I could focus only on your face.”

Paige started peppering light kisses down Azzi’s face, causing the younger girl’s eyes to sigh in contentment as her eyes fluttered shut. “I think about you all the time,” Azzi breathed. “Everything in Connecticut reminds me of you.”

“At least you have reminders,” Paige said morosely. “LA has so much to offer but I don’t wanna explore any of it. Not without you.”

“Well, we have two weeks.” Azzi opened her eyes, drinking in the sight of Paige, with messy hair and rosy cheeks but still more beautiful than ever. “Let’s make it worth it, hm?”