#The East Pointers

[queenmeriadoc]

✨️When you get this ask you have to put 5 songs you listen to, post it, then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positive vibes are cool)🎶

I can't choose 10 favs, you are all my fav!

[pohutukawa22]

Well I can't show my Spotify list here, because basically I suck, but it won't surprise anyone

1 Alan Matheus

2 Yoandri

3 CNCO

4 The East Pointers (Canadian folk )

5 Jesse and Joy

My top 5 songs are Alan's

What did surprise me was that there was only one Kiwi song in my top 100 - Move Boy by Aacacia down at 36.

& no CNCO or East Pointers songs were in my Top 100

But because I enjoy their videos I've watched a lot of CNCO & East Pointers on You Tube. & that goes for Kiwi music as well. Since You Tube has caught up with me about my adblocker, 😁 I will be cutting down on my You Tube time.

I got a thank you from Tim from the East Pointers for supporting them. & one from Prince Royce , even though he was well down on my list this year.

I guess with CNCO finishing with such bitterness, it isn't too surprising that they didn't do one. shame though.

Anyway, here is my solitary Kiwi song!

[cygneeclectique]

Wintergreen

The East Pointers

[chiropteracupola]

what about luna maitland in anterrograde? or persnaps the delightful james webster in ebb?

Shadows in night / We'll hide in plain sight / Never to be found...

[moth and compass is a collaboration with @natdrinkstea!]

[scenicworlds]

November 10, 2024

Got over covid just in time to go see the East Pointers. Portland, ME.

[find-the-path]

Yes there are the horrors, but consider: I just found a new catchy song I like.

[blogmillymills]

It’s a dog’s life.

[emo-batboy]

Battinson Guest Starring on TV Shows

SO

For someone who holds the title of Richest Man in the World, Bruce doesn’t do a lot of traveling.

Which is to say he does a LOT of traveling, but he always tries to find a way out of it.

(Are there bat-related reasons for this? Are there people-related reasons for this? Are there anxiety-related reasons for this? Who knows?)

But partners and sponsors aren’t always going to tolerate his hermit-like tendencies. So once every month or so, Alfred wrangles Bruce into a private jet and sends him off to who knows where so he can represent the company.

Usually, it’s somewhere close on the East Coast, maybe it’s across the pond, even Asia isn’t off the table, but the rarest place to spot Bruce Wayne is actually the West Coast of the US.

One day, it is announced that Bruce Wayne will be spending two (count ‘em, 2) consecutive weeks in California with his kids for some grand business convention.

The West Coast media goes feral with the news, ESPECIALLY interviewers. And because Bruce kicks up such a fuss this time, Alfred has the gall to sign him up for FOUR TV appearances.

Here are these appearances :)

RuPaul’s Drag Race

Drag Queens, especially Drag Race all-stars, contribute to a wide variety of charities

So on a new episode, the queens are challenged to design and shoot a promotional ad for their own charity

And who better to act as a guest judge for this episode than the show’s largest benefactor, CEO of the Wayne Foundation, Bruce Wayne?!

Physically? He’s older than half of the contestants. But spiritually? He screams Baby Gay.

Fifteen minutes into the episode, Bruce is welcomed into the werkroom where he gives them pointers on their campaign. He’s in his cute little three-piece suit (Alfred’s idea) with the intention of looking put-together and knowledgeable. But that’s not the only outcome.

They all flirt with him. Everyone, single or taken. The confessionals are so thirsty.

“He’s lucky the cameras are on. Otherwise, I’d eat him up faster than a bachelorette party in a buffet line.”

“My celebrity crush is talking to me, and all I can focus on are his gorgeous eyes. How am I supposed to know what he's saying?”

Of course, they shoot their shot, but most of it is joking since they don't know he's bi yet.

“Are you single, honey?” Bruce blushes. “It’s complicated.” “Well, I’ll make it simple for you.”

We all know this man can't handle being flirted with. We saw how he froze when Selina did it. It’s like he mentally bluescreens when someone calls him a pet name.

Only THEN do they learn he's bi

One of the queens jokingly asks him, “Ever been with a man before?” thinking it would be a firm no, but Bruce says, “Actually, yes.” “Oh shit, really?” And to Bruce’s embarrassment, the whole room hears him.

The flirting is thus taken up a notch.

On the main stage, Bruce has a lot of great constructive criticism. He talks about how to find the right audience, the importance of a good slogan, and even goes on a little rant about logo design.

(You cannot convince me that Bruce hasn’t hyperfixated on the business of charity work before. Or the science of marketing. They’re his favorite business topics.)

After about three minutes of him complimenting one contestant for their Drag Library pitch, he stops himself mid-sentence and says, “Oh sorry, am I talking too much?” “No, please! Keep talking, sweetheart.” Bruce covers his face to hide his blush. “Why is everyone flirting with me?” “Baby, have you seen yourself?”

While the judges deliberate, RuPaul mentions Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent. Bruce nods along for a while then suddenly just blurts out, “Wait, does it spell ****?”

The judges pause then burst out laughing. “Oh no, we’ve traumatized him!" Bruce is blushing up a storm. “I just never thought about it like that!” “Sweet, innocent Bruce. We’re so sorry.”

It’s later revealed that Bruce offered to help some of the queens launch their charity projects through the Wayne Foundation.

It’s v cute 🥰

Nailed It!

I love Nicole Byer.

She is Mother.

In all seriousness, she’s so fucking funny and she’s personable enough to pull Bruce out of his shell a bit.

The theme for this episode is Found Family. Three pairs of family members compete together—a gay father and his adopted son, an aunt who adopted her niece, and a stepfather and stepdaughter.

Because Bruce Wayne famously adopted two children, he is invited to guest judge.

So Nicole opens the episode with a zinger, the contestants are introduced, and Bruce is welcomed onto the judge’s panel beside Nicole and Jacques.

(Yes, Bruce does speak French. Yes, Nicole makes a joke about it being hot.)

Nicole: “We were surprised you accepted our invitation, Mr. Wayne. You’re notorious for staying on the East Coast. What brought you to the Nailed It! Studio?” Bruce: “My children love this show. They always tell me I should be on it since I’m so bad at baking.” Nicole: “Really? Maybe we should do a celebrity season of Nailed It! and have you compete.” Bruce: “No, you should not.”

Nicole: “So, Bruce, I know you have a butler at home who bakes for you. But what’s the grossest thing you’ve eaten? Escargot? Bad caviar?” Bruce: “I drank olive oil straight from the bottle once.” Nicole: “…What?”

The problem for Bruce is he can’t say anything bad. It just feels mean :(

(And he would rather jump into oncoming traffic than gamble with a social interaction)

For the first challenge, the contestants make cake pops. But when Bruce tries the first one, there is a sickening crunch. Bruce’s eyes widen for a second and he slowly chews.

Nicole: “What was that? Bruce, are you okay?” Bruce, clearly struggling: “It’s…good.”

“Bruce, you can spit it out. It’s okay.” “I already swallowed it.” “Oh, you poor thing.” Bruce chokes for a second, and Nicole pats his back. “Please don’t die. We can’t afford it.”

For the big challenge, production has a surprise in store for Bruce.

Dick (9) and Jason (7) run onto the set and smother Bruce with a hug.

It’s adorable. Bruce no longer cares about paying attention, okay? His kids are here :D

The two boys read from cue cards to announce the second challenge: a three-tiered Gotcha Day cake. And as per tradition, the winner of the first challenge gets a leg-up.

This time, it’s a Helping Hands Button. When they hit the button, Dick and Jason will run over and help them for three minutes. (While being supervised, of course.)

As the contestants bake, Nicole says hello to Dick and Jason, who are clambering all over Bruce like a jungle gym. They both shake her hand and talk about how they love the show.

Nicole looks pointedly at the two empty chairs beside Bruce. “You know, we brought these chairs for you two to sit in.” Dick, on Bruce’s shoulders: “We’re fine, Ms. Byer!” Nicole: “Ms. Byer? Oh, you’re a cutie, aren’t you?”

Just ten minutes before the challenge is over, the Helping Hands button is pressed, and Dick and Jason are given stools so they can help the aunt and niece stack their cake tiers.

Two minutes in, the aunt instructs them to let go of the cake. But the moment Jason pulls his hands away, the cake topples over and covers him in frosting. Jason, whispering: “Oh f*ck.” Bruce: “Jason!” Jason: “I didn’t say that! Dick did!” Nicole: *cackling as Bruce buried his face in his hands*

Jason gets cleaned up, and Dick helps them stack what can still be salvaged.

When Wes brings out the trophy, he’s dressed as Batman. Dick and Jason gets a kick out of that.

Celebrity Family Feud

Bruce was invited to the show after his SNL skit went viral a few months ago

This episode, the teams are split up by cities they grew up in. Gotham v. Star City. Naturally, his team is playing for the Wayne Foundation.

It’s a pretty odd cast of people, most of them having moved to LA or Hollywood. Bruce is the only one to still live in Gotham.

They have fun, though, despite their limited common ground. The audience has a few good laughs.

(Some at Bruce's expense)

Harvey: You're a very wealthy man, Mr. Wayne. What do you really do in that tower all day? Bruce: I, uh…business? Harvey: …You business. Bruce: ……Wait-

All in good fun. Bruce just vibes in his little corner until he needs to answer a question. It's pretty chill.

For exactly half of the episode.

Then it happens.

Steve Harvey takes two people from each team up to the buzzer and says, “We asked 100 people: Name something your parents always told you as a kid.”

What the production failed to consider is how this particular question might be a sensitive topic for some contestants.

Bruce’s team gets the question, and Steve saunters up to Bruce, completely oblivious.

“Alright, Bruce Wayne!” Bruce nods awkwardly. “Hi, Steve.” “Bruce, what’s wrong? You’re looking a bit uncomfortable.” “…I don’t like this question, Steve.” “Why not?” Bruce just gives him a desperate look, and it clicks. “Oh! Oh my gosh!”

Let’s be real. Bruce is awkward enough, but Steve Harvey cannot save an awkward moment for his life either.

But he tries his best anyway and asks, “Are you okay with answering this question, or would you like to pass?” Bruce nods frantically. “I can answer. ‘I love you.’” “I love you too, Mr. Wayne.” “No, uh, my answer is ‘I love you.’” “Oh! That’s a good one.”

Thankfully, the audience erupts in laughter. That little interaction cuts the tension, and Bruce’s answer ends up on the board.

And by god, the memes

“I love you too, Mr. Wayne” is the new “Enjoy your meal.” “You too.”

The audio clip of “I don’t like this question, Steve” goes viral on TikTok

Someone gets a pic of Bruce and Steve looking at each other with palpable fear in their eyes, and it makes its rounds all over Twitter

10/10 never again

Running Wild with Bear Grylls

Now this is the most challenging. Not because it’s difficult, of course. But because Bruce has to look stupid enough to maintain his Brucie Wayne persona but smart enough to keep himself safe.

For this episode, Bear takes Bruce to the California desert.

“How much do you know about survival, Bruce?” Bear asks. Bruce nods carefully. “I did some survival training once with a friend from boarding school.” “Oh really, how did you do?” ��Fine, I think.”

This is, of course, his way of saying I trained with a league of assassins for years, but Bear can’t know that! And that’s how most of the episode goes.

Thank god Bruce's fear of being caught is mistaken for being scared of the physical challenge because every time Bear points out how well he’s doing, he breaks into a sweat.

Bear: For a businessman, you’re surprisingly fit. Bruce, sweating bullets: Oh, this is all just for show.

Bear: Wow, you’re a natural. Are you sure you’ve never set up a zip-line before? Bruce, gripping his equipment so tight he gets rope burn: I think it’s just the survival instincts.

Of course, he pretends to be out of breath a few times. The Drama.

Bruce, pretending to slip and fall: Ouch! Who knew the outdoors were so dangerous? Bear, you are crazy. Bruce, internally: How much longer are we doing this?

Bruce being a vegetarian is actually a point of contention. You see, Bear always makes their celebrity guests do something crazy for food like skin a snake or eat a mouse. Scavenging for berries just doesn’t grab the audience’s attention.

But do you know what is vegetarian?

Bear: Now, in extreme cases of survival, it’s not rare for humans to resort to drinking their own pee. That’s what we’ll be doing in a moment. Are you up for it? Bruce, visibly repulsed: I’ve had Gotham tap water. I’ll be fine.

How on God’s Green Earth did Alfred convince him to do this?

To get to the extraction point, Bear takes Bruce down a cliffside.

Bear shows Bruce the meticulous process of properly belaying from the top of a cliff, and Bruce, who has done this over 100 times is like, “Wow that’s so dangerous :( Will we be okay?”

He really tries to ramp up his acting skills this time.

(Little does he know that’s not necessary.)

Bruce goes down first as Bear belays with a cameraman filming from the top. Halfway down, Bruce hears a scuffle, and the cameraman yells, “F*ck!”

Bruce looks up, arms already out for protection, and he sees a small disk falling towards him. It’s the lens cap. He catches it on instinct.

For a second, he thinks, “Shit, was that too skilled? That’s not enough to make people think I’m Batman, right? I just caught it in midair while dangling from a cliff. That’s totally not weird and suspicious. Normal people do that—“

Then Bear yells, “Bruce, drop it!” Bruce looks up at Bear, confused. “Why?” “There's a scorpion!” That’s when Bruce looks at the lens cap and sees a black scorpion perched on top with its tail ready to strike.

They don’t have those in Gotham.

Bruce jumps in his harness and flings the cap at the rocky cliffside. He hears a crunch, and the scorpion and cap tumble to the ground. Bruce frowns. Can a scorpion survive that drop?

“You just killed a scorpion, mate!” Bear cries. Bruce looks up in horror. “I killed it?!” “Hell yeah!” Bruce’s face falls. “No!”

Because oh. shit.

Bruce just killed something. The sad, orphaned vegetarian just killed a scorpion.

Bruce has a meltdown.

He didn’t mean to kill it!!!! Oh no, he just killed an innocent little creature. Yeah, he punches people for fun sometimes, and he definitely put a few violent criminals in the hospital, but he’s never committed MURDER!!

This poor little scorpion died due to his own negligence, and he feels so so so bad about it.

Bruce is a mess as he climbs the rest of the way down.

Bruce, cradling the scorpion’s body: I don’t know how to perform CPR on a scorpion! Bear: Bruce, you took its head clean off. Bruce: *sad noises*

Legit inconsolable. To him, it’s like he just murdered a puppy

Once they're out, Bear is trying to cheer him up. Bless him.

Bear: We’ve conquered the wild! Haven’t we, Bruce? Bruce, head between his legs, still mourning the scorpion: I’m never going outside again.

Yeah, no one’s going to think he’s Batman after that.

And that's all four of Bruce's TV appearances from the West Coast :) Dick and Jason never let him live any of it down. Alfred is almost sorry. (He is not sorry.)

Let me know your thoughts! What other TV shows do you think Battinson would appear on as a guest?

Okie dokie :D Love y'all! Have a good day <3

[thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls]

this is me asking all my mutuals to listen to at least one East Pointers song. pls.

violin jigs,,,irish jigs especially,,,save me

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 15

AN: Here’s the next chapter, just a cutesy one to transition into the last portions of the story. It’ll end up being 19 chapters so we’re almost done!

Word Count: 3.4k

The UConn Pavilion was alive, buzzing with the kind of energy only playoff basketball could bring. Every seat in the arena was filled, a sea of fans clad in blue and white, waving banners and chanting in unison. The court gleamed under the bright lights, the UConn logo standing proud at center court. The stakes were high; this wasn’t just any game—this was the Big East Championship game, where every second counted, and every play could make or break a team’s positioning come time for the NCAA tournament.

Paige took a deep breath, standing at the free-throw line as the referee prepared to toss up the jump ball. She could feel the eyes of the packed crowd on her, but she tuned out the noise, her focus narrowing to the task at hand. Across from her, Azzi gave her a quick nod, her expression calm but intense. It was their silent way of communicating—no words needed. They’d been here before, and they knew what needed to be done.

From the moment the ball was tipped, Paige and Azzi were a force to be reckoned with. They moved like two parts of the same machine, their chemistry undeniable. Paige drove to the basket with precision, weaving through defenders before kicking the ball out to Azzi, who drained a three-pointer with ease. The crowd roared, but neither player celebrated. There was still work to do.

On defense, they were equally relentless. Azzi intercepted a sloppy pass, immediately looking upcourt to find Paige sprinting ahead. The two connected on a fast break, with Paige finishing at the rim, her layup just brushing the backboard before dropping through the net. The opposing team called a timeout, desperate to regroup, but the damage had already been done.

“Keep pushing!” Geno shouted as the team huddled on the sideline. “They can’t stop you two if you stay locked in.”

Paige wiped sweat from her brow, her eyes never leaving Azzi. They were both breathing hard, but neither looked ready to slow down. Azzi smirked, leaning in close enough for only Paige to hear. “They’re scrambling out there. Let’s keep pushing.”

Paige chuckled, nodding. “Let’s do it.”

Back on the court, the intensity only ramped up. The opposing team fought hard, trading baskets and refusing to let UConn pull too far ahead. Every possession felt like a battle, with bodies colliding and tempers flaring. The crowd fed off the tension, their cheers and boos rising and falling with every play.

With three minutes left in the fourth quarter, the score was tied. Both teams were in the bonus, and the pressure was palpable. Paige dribbled at the top of the key, calling for a screen. Azzi set a perfect pick, giving Paige just enough room to drive into the paint. As the defense collapsed on her, Paige spotted Azzi slipping to the wing, wide open.

Without hesitation, Paige fired the ball to her. Azzi caught it in stride, rising for the shot. The ball hung in the air for what felt like an eternity before swishing through the net. The Pavilion erupted, the crowd on their feet, but there was no time to celebrate. The opposing team inbounded quickly, racing back down the court.

Azzi clapped her hands, barking out defensive assignments as Paige picked up the ball handler. They were back in sync, shutting down passing lanes and forcing a contested shot that clanged off the rim. Paige snagged the rebound, her eyes immediately searching for Azzi. Together, they pushed the pace, refusing to let their opponents catch their breath.

The crowd was on their feet as the clock ticked down in the fourth quarter. With under a minute to go, UConn clung to a comfortable lead. The pressure was suffocating, but Paige kept her composure. She called for a screen, weaving through defenders before dishing the ball to Azzi, who drained another three, putting UConn up by 13. As the final buzzer echoed through the UConn Pavilion, signaling the end of a thrilling Big East Championship game. The crowd exploded, a tidal wave of cheers and applause that seemed to shake the very foundations of the arena. Blue and white streamers and confetti rained down from the ceiling, filling the air with a sparkling, celebratory haze. Paige stood at center court as she took it all in.

This wasn’t just any win—it was the culmination of a season built on grit and determination, a season where they had a full roster for the first time in years. After a difficult, injury-riddled season the year before, where they barely had enough players to field a full squad, UConn had come roaring back this year, undefeated and ready to take on the world. Now, with the Big East Championship secured, the number one seed in March Madness was all but theirs.

Paige’s breath hitched as she realized the weight of it all. The last few years had been a rollercoaster, but this moment made every struggle worth it. She had a perfect season ahead of her, but more than that, she was just a few games away from possibly lifting the NCAA Championship. The emotions flooded her—joy, relief, pride—and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to fully feel them.

She didn’t notice the tears at first, but as they slid down her cheeks, it became impossible to ignore. She’d put everything into this season, everything into leading her team, and it was all coming to fruition in the most glorious way.

Azzi was by her side in an instant, sensing the shift in Paige’s demeanor. She didn’t hesitate, pulling Paige into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around her to offer comfort, strength, and love. The world around them faded. The noise of the crowd, the celebration, everything else was drowned out by the closeness of the moment.

They stood like that for what felt like eternity, Paige resting her head on Azzi’s shoulder, as if grounding herself in the support of the one person who had been with her through it all. Azzi held her tight, the intensity of the moment palpable between them.

In the hush of the hug, just for a moment, Paige’s lips brushed against Azzi’s neck in a soft, almost imperceptible gesture, as if confirming the unspoken bond they shared. Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes searching Azzi’s, the quiet words that passed between them only adding to the electric energy of the moment.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Paige whispered, her voice shaky with emotion.

Azzi’s smile was tender, her voice soft but filled with certainty. “And I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”

As their hug lingered, the camera zoomed in on them, capturing every raw emotion. The jumbotron flickered to life, broadcasting their moment for everyone to see. The crowd’s cheers softened as they caught sight of the intimate exchange between the two. The connection between Paige and Azzi was undeniable, filled with so many emotions—victory, love, relief, and the silent promise that they were in this together.

Phones came out in the stands, fans capturing the moment for social media. Before the trophy presentation had even begun, the buzz was already growing. Speculation swirled across Twitter and Instagram, as fans and followers debated the nature of the relationship between Paige and Azzi. Some celebrated the bond they shared, praising their connection as something pure and powerful. Others weren’t so kind, questioning what they saw, unable to separate the intense chemistry on the court from their own assumptions.

@hoopsfanatic21: “That hug says it all. 💙@paigebueckers1 & @azzi_35 are not just teammates. Uconn is unstoppable! #BigEastChamps #TimeForMarchMadness

@CourtSideGurl: “Love seeing @azzi_35 and @paigebueckers1 show their bond on and off the court 😍🔥. But is it just me, or are we witnessing something more? #UConn #BigEastFinals"

@BasketballNews247: "Is @paigebueckers1 and @azzi_35 hug more than just a celebration? The chemistry between them is unreal. 🔥💔 #BigEastChamps #MarchMadness"

@SportsHotTake: "That hug... uncomfortable. Just me? Something feels off with this whole @paigebueckers1 and @azzi_35 dynamic.”

But while the social media storm began to rise, the team was still lost in the bliss of the present. They were too busy celebrating their victory, their trophy, and the joy of a perfect season to notice the online frenzy unfolding. The cameras caught the smiles of the team, the hugs exchanged, and the euphoria of a championship win—but none of them had any idea what was brewing off the court.

When the trophy presentation finally began, Paige was called forward as the Big East Championship MVP. She walked up, her steps steady but her heart racing. The roar of the crowd filled her ears, but she couldn’t stop the overwhelming flood of emotions that rose within her. Azzi’s eyes followed her every movement, filled with pride and admiration. When their gazes met, Azzi’s face softened, a tender smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It was clear: Azzi was beyond proud of Paige.

Paige took the trophy, the weight of it symbolic not just of her individual achievement, but of the journey she had taken with her team, and with Azzi, by her side.

As the celebration continued, no one—least of all Paige or Azzi—could have anticipated the chatter just their moment of a hug on the jumbotron would cause.

As the sound of celebration slowly faded and the team filed back into the locker room, the excitement was still palpable. They had just won the Big East Championship—something they had worked so hard for all season. The coaches were still congratulating them, clapping each player on the back as they made their way toward their lockers. Paige, still holding her MVP trophy, exchanged high-fives with teammates, her heart still pounding from the win.

It was only when they started pulling their phones from their bags that the first signs of the online firestorm hit. Caroline, who had just unlocked her phone, looked up in surprise as her eyes scanned the screen. Her expression shifted from curiosity to disbelief.

"Guys, you need to see this," she said, walking toward Paige and Azzi, who were in the middle of a quiet exchange, still basking in the glow of their victory.

Paige and Azzi both looked up, but it was Azzi who answered, her voice casual. "See what?"

Caroline handed over her phone, showing them the flood of tweets, Instagram posts, and viral videos featuring their hug on the jumbotron. The speculation was rampant. Caroline pointed to one tweet in particular.

Paige and Azzi exchanged a quick, surprised glance. Their hug had only been a moment of raw emotion between them—a celebration of everything they had worked for. Yet, now it was at the center of a social media storm.

“Wow,” Paige said softly, shaking her head. "Just a hug, huh?"

Azzi laughed softly, a touch of disbelief in her voice. "Guess it’s a lot more than that."

Caroline gave them a sympathetic look, her face mixed with concern and amusement. "I’m sure you two didn’t expect this. But honestly? You look so happy together, people can’t help but notice."

Paige nodded, still processing everything. "We’re fine with it," she said quietly. "It’s not like we’re trying to hide anything. But we also didn’t think it’d blow up like this."

Azzi gave a short chuckle, her smile still warm. "Yeah, but it is what it is."

Before they could discuss it any further, Geno walked into the locker room, signaling that they needed to head to the interview room. "Let’s go, ladies. Time for interviews."

As they walked down the hallway, the weight of the conversation they were about to have loomed in the air. Both Paige and Azzi were quietly processing the fact that their moment was now out in the open, and they were about to face questions they hadn’t prepared for.

The interview room was filled with media members, cameras flashing as Paige and Azzi entered, still wearing their uniforms. The reporters’ chatter quickly died down as Paige and Azzi took their seats at the front, with the MVP trophy sitting proudly on the table in front of Paige and the team trophy sitting in front of Azzi.

For the first few minutes, the questions were all basketball-related. The reporters congratulated Paige for her MVP performance, and Azzi was asked about her contributions to the game. They talked about their preparation, their teamwork, and what it meant to secure the number one spot in March Madness.

One reporter, sensing an opening, leaned in. "Paige, Azzi," the reporter began, "we all saw that emotional moment between the two of you after the win. With everything going on right now, fans seem to be reacting strongly to your connection. Have you two seen what’s been happening on social media?"

Azzi and Paige exchanged a quick glance, the weight of the moment sinking in. Paige was the first to speak, her voice steady but calm. "We haven’t seen it, no," she said, glancing at Azzi for a moment. "But Caroline showed us a quick glimpse at what people were saying."

The reporter leaned forward, eager to get more. "So, with all the attention on that moment, what’s your take on it?"

Paige took a breath, thinking carefully before she responded. "Azzi and I have been through everything together," she began, her voice softening with the weight of their shared history. "I’ve known her since I was a teenager. We’ve played on Team USA together, we’ve been through injuries together, and we’ve been at UConn together. Our bond is deep, and we’ve been through a lot. But we’re both private people, and we’ve always kept our personal lives just that—personal."

Azzi nodded in agreement, her tone calm but firm. "Yeah, it’s about respect. We’ve got a deep connection that’s been built over years of friendship and shared experiences. But we don’t feel the need to explain it all. We’re focused on basketball, on the championship, on what comes next."

Paige added, "What’s important right now is what we’re doing together as a team. We’ve been through a lot to get to this point, and we’re focused on the bigger picture."

The reporter, sensing they weren’t about to get an explicit answer, nodded, respecting their choice to keep things private.

The conversation shifted back to basketball, but the subtle way they spoke left room for interpretation. Neither Paige nor Azzi confirmed anything, but their words said enough to make it clear that they weren’t really hiding anything anymore.

…

After the game ended and the interviews were done, Paige and Azzi made their way out the back of the UConn Pavilion, where a crowd of fans waited excitedly. Paige, casually holding Azzi’s bag, seemed unfazed by the attention, her focus more on the quiet moment shared with Azzi. They stopped to take a few pictures with fans, each fan bubbling with excitement.

One fan, snapping a picture, grinned. “You two always seem to be together. I couldn't stand being with my bestfriend 24/7.”

Paige chuckled and shot a playful look at Azzi. “Just good teamwork,” she said with a wink,

Azzi, leaning in a little closer, grinned. “Yep, we work well together. Can’t ask for a better partner,” she teased, her voice light, but with an undercurrent of something more.

Another fan, snapping pictures, noticed Paige holding Azzi’s bag and raised an eyebrow. “That’s sweet. You always carry her stuff?”

Paige shot the fan a half-grin. “What can I say? I’m just really good at helping out,” she said casually, making no effort to downplay the closeness.

Azzi rolled her eyes dramatically, but her smile never faltered. “Yeah, she’s sooo helpful,” Azzi teased, nudging Paige’s shoulder as if they were sharing some private joke.

One fan, waving their hand frantically in an attempt to catch Paige’s attention, called out her name. But Paige was too engrossed in conversation to notice.

Azzi, noticing the fan’s efforts, leaned in with a mischievous smile and whispered in Paige's ear, "Someone’s trying to get your attention."

Paige didn’t look up right away, still distracted by the fan she was talking to. Azzi raised an eyebrow and, with a quick glance toward the fan, turned back to Paige, her voice a little more playful and louder this time. “Hey, babe,” she said, her words slow and teasing, her tone deliberately flirtatious. “Someone’s calling you.”

Paige finally turned, raising an eyebrow at Azzi’s tone but smiling when she realized what was happening. “What? You’re just trying to get me to notice you, huh?”

Azzi smirked, a confident glint in her eye. “Maybe, but I think I’d rather help our fan out,” she said, nudging Paige toward the excited fan, who was still waiting.

Paige chuckled, clearly amused. “Alright, alright. I’m here,” she said with a grin, finally turning her full attention to the fan.

Azzi leaned in a little closer to Paige so only she could hear, her voice lowering just enough to be playful but filled with flirtation. “You know, it’s kinda cute how much attention you get. I think they’re all a little obsessed with you,” she teased, her lips curling in a smile. At this, Paige smiles at Azzi, letting her know she heard her as they share a moment with one another.

The fan was clearly excited. “I just wanted to say that you two are great together! You make the best team on and off the court.”

Azzi glanced at Paige with a knowing smile. “Well, what can we say? We make a pretty good duo,” she replied, her eyes locked on Paige, the chemistry undeniable. “But we’re just doing what we do best.”

Paige grinned, her fingers lightly adjusting the strap on Azzi’s bag. “Yeah, we’re just two people making it work. No big deal,” she said casually, giving the fan a smile. “Thanks for the love!”

As they wrapped up the conversation, another fan shouted from a little further away, trying to get Paige’s attention. This time, the fan looked directly at Azzi, unsure how to catch Paige’s eye.

Azzi, with a playful smirk, turned to Paige and said, “Looks like we’ve got another one. Maybe I should help them out, huh?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You really do like playing matchmaker, don’t you?”

Azzi just gave her a sly wink, leaning closer to Paige’s ear and in a loud enough voice for the fan to hear, she called out, “Hey, Paige! You’re needed over there!” Her words were light and teasing, her eyes never leaving Paige’s face.

The fan’s eyes widened, both at the sound of Azzi’s playful tone and the way she effortlessly got Paige’s attention. Paige couldn’t help but laugh, finally turning to the fan. “Sorry about that! What’s up?”

Azzi leaned in and whispered with a teasing grin, “I think I just became your personal hype woman.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head but clearly enjoying the playful banter. “Clearly, you’ve got this whole thing down.”

As they continued to chat with the fans, one of them pointed out their matching phone cases, prompting another round of smiles. “Are those matching cases?” the fan asked, grinning. “That’s so cute!”

Azzi, glancing down at the phones she was holding with a smirk, nudged Paige. “Guess we’re just on the same wavelength,” she said, her voice light but flirtatious.

Paige shot her a sideways grin. “Don’t lie, I got those for us.”

As they made their way to the car, more fans continued to watch, whispering excitedly about everything they had just seen.

Azzi overheard and shot Paige a teasing look. “Guess I’m getting spoiled tonight,” she said, her voice dripping with playful affection.

Paige opened the car door for Azzi with a smile, not even thinking about it as she helped Azzi slide in. “What can I say? Someone’s gotta treat you right.”

Azzi’s grin widened. “You’re officially my chauffeur now. I’ll make sure to tip well.”

As the car pulled away from the Pavilion, the fans' murmurs continued to buzz. Social media lit up again, fans sharing every little detail they’d just witnessed: Paige holding Azzi’s bag, the matching phone cases, Paige opening the car door for Azzi, the two of them flirting in front of fans. It was a game of subtle hints, with the fans eagerly picking up on every unspoken gesture.

Paige looked over at Azzi, her eyes soft. “Guess the fans will have a lot to talk about tonight.”

Azzi just laughs at this saying it’ll probably get 10x worse during March Madness.

@melpthatsme

[icbgwy]

the way things go ꕥ riki nishimura

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⎯‎⎯‎⎯⠀⠀⠀⠀⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀three

riki ‘ni-ki’ nishimura reluctantly stood in front of a nearly abandoned strip mall in the far east of hongdae. 

most of the shops were either closed or out of business. the only place open at midnight was the shaman house— otherwise known as a guttang— jake and heeseung ushered him to go to. 

this was his last and only option to get his game back to the right track, the voice of his basketball coach echoing in his mind. 

“—if you keep this up— you won’t be on the starting lineup this season”  

riki shuddered at the thought of sitting on the bench his senior year of high school… how humiliating would that be. it might be worse than his current state, he couldn’t stoop lower. he would do whatever it takes to be the ni-ki he was known as.

the bright neon sign illuminated the front of the guttang wasn’t traditional in any sense. frankly riki found it odd that it was placed here in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. it gave him weird vibes. if he wasn’t so desperate he would’ve turned back the instant he saw how dark and gloomy the whole area was, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

mystic messenger— that’s the same title of the game, y/n  used to play… a pretty lame one at that. 

“what a stupid name” riki scoffed under his breath and shook those thoughts out of his head. 

he stepped into the guttang and was immediately immersed in the dark atmosphere of it. 

“god this is so lame” riki whispered, as he looked around the place. 

people from various backgrounds all mingled together in the waiting room. although one thing was very clear from all of them; they were desperate. he just needed to get this all over with. he had serious doubts that a shaman would help him with his predicament. 

shit like this never works maybe for gullible low lives with no other options. i’m not there.

“yet.” the synchronized voices of heeseung and jake rang through his ears as a horrible reminder of where his life was headed due to this alleged curse.

riki knew they didn’t mean no harm. they were genuine and real close friends to him. more so than jihoon and soyeon who he had known since grade school. he even allowed jake and heeseung to call him by his real name, riki. not ni-ki, like how everyone else at school did. 

who his aforementioned grade school buddies refused to call him by. he knew they liked ni-ki more. of course they did, everyone liked the effortlessly cool and carefree rich basketball player he grew to be known as. 

so riki impatiently sat on the floor. his feet tucked under him and hands placed on his knees as he waited for the shaman to arrive to the private room he was instructed to wait in by the receptionist.  

his long slender pointer finger anxiously tapping against his knee. his mind raced as he tried to conjured up various causes for his new found misfortune. the sound of soft footsteps and metal bells clanging together pulled riki out of his thoughts. his head snapped up as a woman took a seat in front of him. 

“riki nishimura,” she greeted, her voice calm but laced with authority.  riki frowned, his body instinctively tensing. 

how does she know my name?

oh wait, it was on the paper work i filled out. 

“sit still. you’ve come for answers, haven’t you?”  the shaman chuckled softly, her tone nothing but unsettling. riki nodded in confusion, immediately stopping his fidgeting and sitting up straight. ready to hear the shaman out and get this over with.

“you’ve been cursed by imbalance,” she began, her hands sweeping across the table between them in slow, deliberate motions. 

is she high? what the fuck is she doing with her hands?

“your life is out of sync because of the karmic debt you carry,”  she admitted.

“karmic debt?” riki repeated, raising a skeptical brow. riki tried suppressing a scoff, not believing a word that came out of her mouth. 

“what is this, some kind of fortune cookie scam? oh wait! next you’re gonna tell me i need to buy some magic crystal or some special tea to fix it, right?” riki berated her in utter disbelief. 

the shaman’s lips twitched slightly, a faint smile barely visible on her emotionless authoritative face.

“believe what you want, but the truth remains: you’ve wronged others, and their pain lingers around you like a shadow,”  she added on, ignoring riki’s obvious skepticism.

in her line of work, she was more than accustomed to people not believing her especially when faced with past experiences they’ve tried to bury. 

“okay, sure. let’s say I believe this ‘karmic debt’ bullshit. how do I fix it?”  riki said smugly, leaning back slightly. an air of entitlement surreding him.

he wasn’t taking this seriously, but yet again he never took anyone seriously. he was back to his carefree and nonchalant image he’d been creating for himself since second year of  junior high. 

her gaze locked onto his. for just a moment riki felt uncomfortable, having the urge to apologize and take her and her words more seriously. he was too prideful to do so.

“you must make amends. apologize to those you’ve hurt, to those you’ve discarded like they were nothing.”  

riki’s jaw tightened at the memories that arose from her words. he knew he wasn’t a stellar guy. especially towards girls but was it really that serious to the point he was cursed? 

“that’s it? just apologize? that sounds pretty vague.”  

“you’ll know who when the time comes,” she replied cryptically. “the souls you’ve left behind, abandoned, hurt—they carry your imbalance. start with them.”  

riki’s patience was wearing thin. “right. because cryptic riddles are so helpful to me right now. thanks for nothing!” riki said sarcastically. he stood up abruptly, brushing off his pants and getting ready to make his way out of the room.

“this is a waste of time,” riki scoffed.

“you’ll be back,” the shaman said simply, her voice steady and calm. completely unfazed by riki’s outburst. riki turned back to her with a disbelieving glare, but her expression remained and her resolve unshaken.  

“don’t hold your fucking breath,” he spat back before pushing his way out of the guttang, the faint sound of her bells jingling taunting him. 

“we'll see you very soon” the receptionist called out as he walked away, making riki stop mid step. he shook his head, stepping into the cool night air, he rolled his eyes at the entire ordeal. 

karmic debt? making amends? what a huge joke! i’m fine, just off. everyone goes through that.

but even as he walked away and got into his rolls royce. the shaman’s words lingered in the back of his mind.

“the souls you’ve left behind… abandoned…” he clenched his jaw, his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

this is so fucking dumb. it’s just some crazy lady playing games with me. she doesn’t know me or anything.

but the smallest part of him—a part he refused to acknowledge no matter what—couldn’t help but feel there was some truth in her words. 

fuck it, i’ll apologize even if i don’t mean it. 

ִ ࣪ 𖦹 物事の進み方 ָ ࣪ ׅ

prev . masterlist . next

notes: so sorry for the late update, i got major writers block. i love making conepts then not actually writing but fear not, y/n riki interactions next chapter.

summary: at the start of his senior year, riki nishimura notices that everything feels off—his basketball skills are slipping, and his usual charm with girls has vanished. desperate for answers, he follows his co-captain heeseung's joking advice and visits a local shaman. she reveals the source of his bad luck: major karmic debt. to regain his balance, riki must make amends for his broken and abandoned childhood friendship with the one girl who truly knew him, y/n matsuzaki.

tag list ( open ): @tasnemluvs @elegancefr @jiiyen @skepvids @enhypenlovre @mylettterstoyou @delirioastral @who-tf-soddhi @aespaqq @nat123c @nodoubtily @right-person-wrong-time @beijinkaoya @awhrin @ami-soph @ravendove666-blog @dollrincess @notab1tchwho @starssfall @aryannabananas @paradiseoflosers @raeiology @letwiiparkjay @rikidaze @sol3chu @nishiimuranights @miukidoll @ningningiloveumarryme @sirens-dreams @heartheejake @heesallure @sweetpinkblueberry

[portgasmalia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 ﹙including: flame emperor sabo, trafalgar law, portgas d. ace﹚ ﹙theme: super duper fluffy stuff & second paragraph turns into pure smut, mdni!!﹚

flame emperor sabo

sabo’s soft thumb caressed the skin right underneath your bottom lip. the small crinkle traced by his badly cut fingernail while his dilated pupils glistened with curiosity. he witnessed most of the reactions, and yet, above all he loved to experience new, lingering touches. but this current moment repeated itself since the confession of feelings started. sabo has always been a more gentle man behind closed doors than shown in the eye of the public. your chin propped up on the side of his pointer finger, tilting your head slightly back to steady the intensity of the eye contact. just a simple kiss, a quick peck, seemed impossible for sabo. he wanted the entire experience. watch how the shade of strawberry pink spread across the span of your cheeks, how you resisted the urge to chew on the soft skin of your lip while waiting for sabo to make a move. oh, he loved seeing you fall apart with the slightest touch of his gloveless fingers before his soft rose-colored lips pecked yours. so quickly, awaiting the begging for more because the flame emperor, the revolutionary was a devilish man hidden behind the gentle face of a blonde angel.

— mdni!! nsfw content

sabo knew perfectly which buttons to push to edge you closer to the second orgasm tonight. one was simply an insult to his skilled fingers and seductive tactics. eyes wide open and focused on the way yours fluttered close with each deep thrust of his hips. holding up his weight with his right underarm, sabo placed his left hand underneath your chin. the same position he loved to have you in when not being inside of you. skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, and the tip of the revolutionary’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip. ever so lightly, sabo pushed his thumb into the warmth of your mouth, freeing your plush bottom lip from the assault of your teeth. “don’t do that,” the blonde fire user muttered, punctuating his demand with a particularly harsh thrust. slender fingers underneath your chin pushed slightly, tilting your head further into the neck. a chance to glance at your almost-closed eyes while approaching another orgasm. “the sight makes it so fucking hard to control myself but we do have all night,” he chuckled quietly but was consumed by devilish thoughts while increasing the rhythm of his waist. multiple orgasm were the challenge, and hell, you should have not teased him as much as you did.

trafalgar d. water law

nose deeply in the books he carried out of the last library, reading about the myths of the world, and the stories other people told on the pages until the doctor would tell his own. always so busy with the books, the folders, his own notes. so when you burst into his office, attempting to gain his attention or lure him outside on the deck to celebrate a little bit with the crew, law could read your intentions without having to glance at you. so when you stood in front of him, almost too shy to even ask, law used the book in sheets in his hand to help you raise your head and glance at him. pages tightly together, stapled above one another., the upper margins of the book in sheets placed carefully underneath your chin. edges slightly pushed to the inside with his sprawled out hand, and pushing upwards to tilt your head. you knew it was the east way, the soft way of law’s demands to make eye contact. the dust of a sweet cherry red which covered your cheeks forced a thin but small smile on his lips before leaning forward with a quiet chuckle and pecking your chewed up lips as a gesture to greet you in his personal bubble. the only person, right next to bepo, he would allow to walk in without permission.

— nsfw content ahead!! mdni!!

it was a certain surprise when law’s behavior changed in the sheets. he still kept the dominance, he still set the pace. but being on top of you, feeling the sweaty palms of your soft hands explore his chest every single time, it triggered a rather soft side of the doctor to step out. you weren’t scratching, your fingertips carefully traced the tattoo of his jolly roger repeatedly. fingers of his unused hand intertwined with yours, reveling in the warmth and tightness of your gummy walls. the lingering gaze drifted from your eyes down to your lips. the quivering of your bottom one, the way your teeth dragged so harshly across the soft skin while the attempt to suppress a whiny moan failed. the tip of his sharp nose nudged yours multiple times. two to three to get your attention and convince you to open your lids again. once you did, he guided your head upward before his chapped lips found your puffy ones. there was no need to use his hands if he could once in a while show the soft side, he allowed to surface in your presence. not all the time, but enough to show the deep and meaningful emotions he had for you. even while his hips snapped so harshly against yours, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the bedroom, law visited not so often. "you're mine, love," he would mutter between deep, almost inaudible groans.

portgas d. ace

there are two ways which only differ slightly and it easily depends on the mood he's in. coming back from a mission after being unable to see your beautiful face for weeks, ace is a tad softer with his touches. calloused palms of his hands placed on each side of your face. little finger along your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb stroking along your smiling lips, taking in each twist and turn in your beautiful features. oh, how he remembered the details so clearly, dreamt of them every night. the first touch is so sweet, so loving. almost leaving traces of admiration along the sharp line of your jaw. but then there's also the second way, ace would hold your face. extremely warm hands placed almost exactly the same, but the calloused palm pushed your cheeks further together. you would immediately know that the fire fist drowned any sorrows in multiple glasses of booze. since the whitebeard pirates loved a good, old feast to celebrate any given day, ace was mostly under the influence of the alcoholic liquid, and acted rather with soft humor than gentle honesty.

— nsfw content ahead!! mdni!!

ace might love to show you how much he loved and adored you, but in ways that weren't exactly described as gentle or soft. pounding into you harshly, the loud sound of skin slapping against skin boomed off the walls of the second division commander's room. as the second division commander of the whitebeard pirates, ace was always involved in trouble, always wanting to help each of his friends so badly, it turned into a day full of stress. and all he needed was being inside of you. gummy walls squeezing his thick dick ever so tightly. but it always ended with you underneath his towering body. legs thrown over his shoulders as he pounded into you. one hand used to keep his weight mostly off your body, the other hand is placed around your jaw. left side, his fingers squeezed the skin of your cheek and on the right side, the thumb mirrored the same gesture. mouth squeezed together, it looked like you prepared so perfectly to take his hard dick between your lips again, and it almost made him cum with the next thrust. instead, ace leaned down, placing his lips against yours and holding you in place while increasing the pace and harshness.

[iizzeee]

Guys, I am begging you. Please please please please please PLEASE do NOT vote 3rd party, or not vote at all.

I get it. I really do. Biden’s handling of Israel has been, not gonna mince words, dogshit. Abominable. Unspeakably bad.

But we cannot afford to protest like this.

We don’t need Biden as president. We do need to keep Trump out of office. And to those who respond “well, I don’t want just the lesser of two evils,” please, for the love of god, grow the fuck up.

For one, why wouldn’t you want the lesser of two evils. It is, by definition, LESS EVIL.

“Why can’t we just have no evil, why isn’t that an option.” I really wish it was. Just as much as you. But it’s not. These are our cards, and we have to play our hand to the best of our ability.

Which brings us to two.

Trump is more evil. Like, so much more evil. We’re comparing apples and oranges here guys.

I understand that a lot of you might doubt that. The largest demographic of people advocating for third party or non-votes are in the 18-26 range. New voters, with one or no elections under their belt.

So they don’t remember.

Most of us (I myself fall under this age range) don’t remember 2016. The election, that is. They don’t remember how so many people protested Hillary vs Trump by going 3rd party or writing in joke votes, because they saw the two as equally bad. And Trump won.

Half of us don’t remember the Trump presidency. We’ve heard he was a weird, bad, bigoted president, but don’t fully grasp the scope of how bad.

So off the top of my head, here are some highlights of real things Donald Trump did while he held office.

- threw toilet paper at hurricane victims like he was trying to shoot a 3-pointer

- fired the man investigating him for election fraud

- called African countries “shitholes”

- appointed members of the Supreme Court who would go on to overturn roe v wade

- stole classified documents from the white house to hide at his resort

- tried to instate a Muslim Ban

- incited a insurrection to try and keep himself in office, and maybe hang his VP if there was time

- looked directly at an eclipse. Like no glasses, full on.

- fueled covid conspiracies. Also told people to “drink bleach” to fight the virus

- withdrew us from the Paris Climate Accord

- cofefe. Remember that? What a fun, normal thing for the president to tweet at 2am.

- employed literal white supremacists

- called Nazi’s “very fine people”

- got endorsed by the KKK, and refused to condemn David Duke

And that’s just what I can remember right now.

So if you’re angry at Biden about Palestine, please please please do not think for a fucking second Trump would be better. He would almost certainly actively be worse. He would give Netanyahu the green light. If you think Biden has used a loose leash, at least it’s some kind of leash. Trump would be all in. Full chips, flying to the Middle East to send in the bombs himself.

If you’re still hesitant, consider this last plea.

Things are bad. These shouldn’t be the only two choice we have, but they are. You can’t look at the menu, which is offering either bland soup someone spit in or actual rat poison and go “could I have some steak”.

You can order the soup and live to write a one-star review on Yelp, maybe call health inspections on the restaurant or contact the owners and say “you guys know your menu has only two options and they’re both dogshit. If you don’t add more, you’ll be unemployed soon.”

Or you can order rat poison and die.

If we elect Donald Trump in the fall, we will be eating rat poison. He has repeatedly said himself to be in favor of a dictatorship. He quotes Hitler. If he is put in office, the change we all want and so critically need will not be fucking POSSIBLE. Because with Biden, it’ll be hard, and tedious, and long, and exhausting, but at least it will be goddamn possible.

So, come November, please don’t order the rat poison.

Please just eat your shitty ass soup so we can live to get really angry about it.

Please.