#and thanks for the likes on my last post!!

[hs-is-loml]

He's My Favorite. (ln4)

Pairing: Lando Norris x Sainz!Actress!Reader

Summary: fans are speculating who y/n might be dating but it turns out it was in front of their faces the whole time. or y/n and lando are mistakenly considered to only be best friends and people are in for a surprise.

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Bruna Marquezine!

Warnings: probably a few grammar errors. lots of fluff. drivers standing their ground against neymar jr. because he deserves his own warning. inaccurate timelines but then again this is a fictional smau! UNEDITED

a/n: i'm on a kick rn. nothing can stop me.

all translations come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

twitter

instagram

carlossainz55 just made a post

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,560,937 others

carlossainz55 so proud of this one! but papa did say your head is growing too big after you saw yourself on the billboard...and i agree with him. anyways, go support y/n by watching her new movie Blue Beetle now in theaters!

tagged yourusername

view all 117,342 comments

sainzforlife this family is too talented for their own good-

yourusername papa did not say that.

→ carlossainz55 just ask him then @/carlossainzoficial

→ carlossainzoficial mija, es de lo único que has estado hablando desde que lo viste. (daughter, that's all you've been talking about since you saw it.)

→ yourusername papa, that's not very nice. don't try to pretend like i didn't catch you sending the trailer to all your friends last week...

iamrebeccad beautiful girl and amazing movie!

→ yourusername i love you more than my brother.

→ liked by iamrebeccad and 217 others

xolo_mariduena at least you didn't see her crying when she first saw the billboard

→ yourusername XOLO, NO ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT

→ landonorris send the video.

→ yourusername now, look what you've done. all the drivers are going to see me crying now-

→ xolo_mariduena you'll still take me to the next gp right...?

landonorris just to let you guys know she cried after this photo was taken too

→ carlando4life does this mean lando was with the family for the private screening??

→ 4papaya lando is a part of their family so probably😭

instagram

landonorris just made a post

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, mclaren, and 1,860,657 others

landonorris can't believe this girl is going to be blown up on the big screen coming to theaters near you. jokes aside proud of you and everything you do.

tagged yourusername

view all 99,342 comments

thatonebakucorner this post is so sweet!

yourusername thank you, lan🫶🏻

→ carlossainz55 why did you send him a heart?

→ charles_leclerc yeah, what's that about?🤨

→ yourusername carlos, you're just jealous you didn't get a post from lando

georgerussell63 i never get appreciation posts like this

→ landonorris what do you want me to post about your slideshows?

→ alex_albon it's because you're not y/n

welovey/n LOL not the drivers grilling lando about this post

ln4csforever "proud of you and everything you do" LANDO JUST TELL HER YOU LOVE HER ALREADY

→ paddockfashion please- like lando could pull someone like y/n

twitter

instagram

yourusername just made a post

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, neymarjr, and 1,341,972 others

yourusername such a crazy week but glad i got to spend it with some of my favorite people. thank you for all the love and support you guys have given to Blue Beetle!

tagged carlossainz55 and landonorris

view all 117,593 comments

worldchampionsisaid what is neymar doing here?!?

→ neymarandy/n they need to get back together asap!

→ mywifeisy/n yes because that would be such a good idea even though he cheated on his baby mama while she was pregnant??

oscarpiastri lando is asking if you're serious with the guy in the third photo

→ oscarpiastri apparently, i wasn't supposed to ask you on here so now lando is yelling at me.

carmenmmundt proud of you, love! ❤️

→ yourusername love you, carmen! 🤎

ferraricountyourdays the third pic?? Y/N, WHO IS THAT MAN??

→ y/nismilf she needs to hard launch him already!

neymarjr linda como sempre, amor. (beautiful as always, love.)

→ carlossainz55 no, go away.

→ charles_leclerc wrong post, buddy.

→ georgerussell63 abosolutely not-

→ danielricciardo don't forget what happened last time you tried to contact her.

→ maxverstappen1 move along.

→ fifaandf1crossover do you know you have 30 minutes?

→ y/npleasemarryme love that they always protect her!

shesmyfavactress weird she posted picture with her bf along with one of lando and carlos

→ f1girlies maybe because she's an adult and allowed to be friends with her brother's ex teammate?

fernandoalo_oficial i remember when i used to be your favorite driver

→ carlossainzoficial those were the days

→ yourusername you two are still my favorite of all time.

→ carlossainz55 i'm hurt, y/n.

→ landonorris so was your caption meaningless?

→ yourusername i can't win.

whatacrossover oh, lando and y/n are definitely dating.

yourusername just added to their story

shared post by yourusername and landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, anasainzvdec, and 2,493,968 others

yourusername and landonorris just kidding, he's my favorite.

view all 136,975 comments

carlossainz55 that hand is getting a bit low, don't you think?

→ yourusername get over it. you've had years to get used to this already.

→ inmyf1era YEARS you say?

landonorris i get to be with you every day. what a life.

→ yourusername i love you.

→ oscarpiastri you're ridiculous

→ charles_leclerc mate, look what she has turned you into

→ yourusername charles, i will tell alex about this.

→ charles_leclerc I WAS JUST KIDDING. PLEASE NO

lilymhe was waiting for this hard launch!

→ alex_albon i thought lando was going to spill before they could even do one

carlossainzoficial what can i say i love my son so i approve

→ yourusername could've said that you love and care for your daughter's happiness

sebastianvettel actually, y/n forgot who her real favorite is

→ yourusername love you, seb!

→ landonorris back off, old man.

[mariasont]

EEEEK your post prison fic for spencer is fREAking me out!!! could you maybe do one where spencer is now teasing the reader a bit? maybe he's giving her extra praise and she freaks (what would i do if he called me a good girl? 😩) (this is very indulgent to my praise kink i'm so so sorry 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️) tytyty!! i adore love and cherish you and your work 💕

I Aim To Please - S.R

a/n: shewwwwww to be complimented by post prison spencer fucking reid. im drooling!!!! but anyway babes i adore & love YOU!!!! so thank u so so sooo much for requesting 💖💖

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x shy!media-liaison!reader

warnings: spencer being hot, reader being shy girl, spencer being a little shit who loves to tease

wc: 1.5k

There were a few basic rules you had established from working at BAU. First, avoid Rossi at all costs until he’s had at least two cups of coffee. Second, never attempt to outwit Emily; she’ll see right through you and crush your argument every single time. And third—perhaps the most crucial—do everything in your power to maintain your freaking composure around Dr. Reid.

That last one, however, was proving to be a monumental challenge. It wasn’t just the way he spoke, his brain firing off at a speed only he could keep up with. It wasn’t even the way he seemed oblivious to how endearing those very quirks were. No, it was the fact that the simple act of him breathing in your direction had you scrambling to hold yourself together. And honestly you were failing miserably.

Which is why you spent most of your time holed up in your office. It wasn’t much—just a desk, a slightly uncomfortable chair, and a perpetually growing stack of case files that seemed determined to bury you. But it offered privacy, and that was enough. Here you could breathe, decompress, and occasionally allow yourself to daydream about a certain genius profiler without the risk of public humiliation.

The bullpen was proving to be too chaotic, too close to him. Your office gave you distance, a buffer. But, as you had come to learn, hiding only worked when he didn’t decide to seek you out. And Spencer Reid had a knack for finding you when you least expected it.

"Hey."

You jumped slightly, nearly fumbling the stack of press notes you’d been carefully organizing.

Turning toward the door, you found Spencer leaning casually against the frame, a file tucked under one arm and a distracted sort of smile on his face. His tie was slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and—just like that—your brain completely short-circuited.

"Hi," you said, trying not to sound too startled. "Do you, um, need something?"

"Yeah." He further into the room, lifting the file in explanation. "I was looking at the local coverage of our case, and I noticed a couple discrepancies in the timeline published."

"Oh,” you said softly, quickly shuffling the press notes into a messy pile and pushing them to the side. "Well, um, sometimes reporters try to fill gaps when they don't the facts. It's... frustrating, but it happens."

You glanced up at him briefly, but that look of his made your cheeks warm. Your fingers twisted together in your lap as you tried to focus on anything other than how ridiculously self-conscious you suddenly felt.

"That makes sense. I figured you'd know."

Instead of lingering in the doorway or leaving like you assumed he would, Spencer, casually grabbed the chair across from your desk. He spun it around in one fluid motion and sat it backwards, draping his arms on the backrest with an ease that felt strangely familiar—like you had been friends or colleagues for years instead of just a few months.

"I'll reach out to them about fixing the timeline," you said, your hand instinctively moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You clasped your hands together to still them, offering a small, nervous smile. "It shouldn't be too hard to correct."

"Thanks," he said. "That'll probably save from giving another long-winded lecture on factual reporting."

You gave a quiet laugh, grateful for the distraction from your tasks, though you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about the company. Not that you didn’t enjoy his company—there was plenty to enjoy, more than you cared to admit. If you could manage to function like a normal human being around him, you might even look forward to moments like this.

But then he tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying you as if he were unraveling some kind of puzzle and for one terrifying second, you were convinced he could hear every single thought racing through your mind.

"So," he began, "how are you liking it here so far? The job, I mean. Is it what you expected?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Oh, um... yeah. It's been great so far. Busy, but... I like it."

"That's good," he said, nodding. "I know it’s not exactly the most predictable job. Some people don't expect it to be so... chaotic."

"Well," you said, fidgeting slightly with your pen. "I knew what I was signing up for. Or, at least I thought I did. It's a lot, but it's rewarding."

"That's a good attitude to have," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Honestly, you're doing a great job. I don't know how you manage to keep everything straight."

Your heart leaped, thudding in your chest as warmth flooded your face. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, especially from someone like him. You wanted to savor the moment, to bottle up the way his words made you feel, but your nerves refused to let you fully enjoy it.

"I'm just, um, organized I guess,” you stammered, your hand flying up to rub at the back of your neck.

"More than just organized," he replied easily, completely unaware of how his words were affecting you. "You've got half the team wrapped around your finger already. Even Rossi listen when you talk. That's impressive."

Your face burned. "I think that's more about respect for the job than me."

Spencer shrugged lightly, as he was watching you, like he didn't quite believe you. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just better at this than you give yourself credit for."

You let out a nervous chuckle, fingers twitching as you fiddled with the corner of the paper in front of you.

"I don't... I don't know about that."

He tilted his head, again, his brow quirking. "Do you know how to take a compliment?"

"Of course I do." You were sure your voice lacked the conviction needed.

He smirked, leaning forward over the chair. "Doesn't seem like it."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled in the frantic web that was your thoughts around this infuriating man.

"Well, uh, you’ve only done it twice, so I don’t think that’s enough for you to judge."

His grin widened. "Oh? So you’re saying I should try again? For research purposes?"

Your eyes widened, and you blinked rapidly as if to process his words, your hands shooting up as if to physically block the implication. "I—uh—no, that's not what I meant.”

"No, no," he said, sitting up straighter and waiving off your flustered attempt to deflect. "I aim to please. If more compliments are what you’re after, I’ve got plenty.”

"Please, no."

"You're incredibly efficient. Seriously, I think you've managed to anticipate what the team needs before we even know we need it. And your ability to keep your cool under pressure? That's impressive. I mean, do you even get stressed? Because if you do, you hide it really well."

"Dr. Reid—," you squeaked, covering your face with your hands as if that could somehow shield you from the onslaught of praise.

"And," he continued, clearly now enjoying himself. "You're probably the most patient person, I've ever met. Which is something, considering you work with people who constantly interrupt and derail your perfectly planned press briefings."

Your stomach flipped, and you felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment pooling in your chest. As much as you wanted to sink to the floor, the way he looked at you sent every nerve in your body spiraling. Each word felt like it was tailored to you, peeling back the very thin veneer of control you’d desperately tried to maintain over the massive crush you found yourself drowning in.

Your head dropped to the desk with a soft thunk, muffling your groan. "Okay, okay, I get it."

He leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on his arms atop the chair. "Now what do you say?"

"Thank you."

He smirked widened. "See? That wasn't so hard was it?"

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you averted your eyes, trying to hide the nervous smile tugging at your lips. "You didn't have to go on and on..."

"Oh, but I did." He was still grinning. "You deserved it."

You risked a glance back at him, losing your cool by the second. That only made your face heat up more. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you haven't kicked me out of your office."

"That's only because I didn’t think it would work."

"Well," he said, turning towards the door. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't mind the compliments."

You opened your mouth to protest but no words came out. Instead, you watched helplessly as he shot you one last smile before disappearing into the hallway.

When the door finally clicked shut behind him, you let out a shaky breath and drop your head back onto the desk.

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips @m-indkiller @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @reiderrambles @averyhotchner @hbwrelic @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @doigettokeepyou @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @c-losur3 @theylovemelody @alahnizamolo @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @spiderladyleah @estragos @khxna @spencerssoup @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72 @piinksdoll @kcch-ns @cool-light32 @reidfile @i-live-in-spite

join my taglist here!

[whyisthereacentaur]

update: I finally got my consultation with the specialist service

I have CFS/ME for real

~~~~~

(thanks @idrawtooslow for the reminder that I posted about this)

This is far less exciting a conclusion than promised, because now I’ve just got to… keep going, with the knowledge that I’m going to be constantly hoping for a “good” day to come, and those “good” days are likely going to continue to mean me at only about 50% of my previous functionality.

The bad days, as best I can describe in terms of my previous experiences, are like the full-body blaring fatigue that hits the day after pulling an all-nighter, combined with the “oh I’m definitely sick, huh” achy feelings of the first day a virus really takes hold.

The brain fog that descends on those days leaves me with a level of executive dysfunction that would be comedic if it wasn’t so terrifying. A mind that used to be able to bring together complex ideas and retain masses of legal and medical knowledge flails uselessly to remember how to string a sentence together. I have to take multiple attempts to verbally communicate something as simple as “put your shoes on so we can go to school”. It’s so mentally straining that it becomes physically exhausting.

Then there are the other physical challenges. Legs that used to run 10 miles, just because I had spare time to do that, burn and threaten to collapse after a short walk, even several hours later. The dizziness that comes on at unpredictable times when I stand up, bend down, or even just when standing still.

I can just about push myself through the absolute basic needs of those bad days.

Because I’m me, the basic needs referred to are usually other people’s rather than my own, and also because I’m me, I will always try to do some more beyond the actual basics of what they need, expending the last of my emergency battery reserves and really scuppering my chances of having anything left for self-care.

[black-occamy-arts-and-crafts]

I have recently received another ask about my canvas pulling and since I've been thinking about making a serious tutorial for a while now, I took the opportunity to take some pics and vids while finishing the tree. Do please enjoy :3

1. Why pulling out canvas at all?

Primarily, this is a fantastic technique to apply cross stitch patterns directly to the item you want OR to make patches from old jeans, like this one:

With small patterns I usually don't bother to sew the canvas prior to embroidering, like with the pupper above. In case of the bigger patterns, I usually sew it lightly on the edges just to keep the canvas in one place. The more stretchy the material type is, the more important it's going to be to keep it in place.

2. Why not use a soluble canvas?

I'm sure you can and that they'll be as successful as the regular one 😁 However, as I mentioned in my previous posts here and here, I prefer to err on the side of cheaper, hence the tutorial.

3. Okay. I'm convinced - I even have a pattern embroidered on! What's next?

With small patterns (like the doggo earlier) it's going to be pretty easy. You just pull the threads one by one - preferably starting on the thinnest part of the pattern - and you may not even need the pliers. The fun (?) is with the large pieces, because the canvas has on average quite fragile threads and they like to break. Note - the canvas I'm using and I suppose most of the existing canvas types, will have four threads per one embroidery row. It's usually easier to pull one first and then the other three, bit that may vary when, for example, you managed to pierce the thread during stitching phase earlier 😉

If you were already careful during the stitching, you paid extra attention to embroider EXACTLY between the canvas threads and avoid piercing them at all. There are two benefits to that being extra careful: one, it's easier to pull it out later; two, the stitching gains an extra precision to it (and it looks great!). I recently discover that the round tip needle is making it much easier and if you're interested, there's a separate post about it as well!

On to the process! You can see from the pictures how I started with cutting out a piece of canvas that I can later reuse for something small (recycling is my hobby 🤷🏻‍♀️). I also pulled loose threads from around the tree:

Next part was to clean up the trunk and the grass on the right:

I then cut off the excess to avoid the threads tangling and slowly moved to the sides of the leaves on right and left:

You'll notice that the last photo has the thread pulled halfway through the pattern. That's because on this stage it's usually impossible to simply pull the thread out - even with the pliers it is just going to break off. I use a needle to pluck it from between the embroidery like this:

If you're more of the visual learner, I made this vid that I hope explains the process in more detail. You'll notice that I'm using my fingers and not the pliers here, because it's faster than to switch between tools.

And finally, when you're left with single direction threads like these, it's just a matter of pulling them out one by one.

And that's it! The final product looks clean and neat, AND you will notice that without the canvas beneath it's also getting a bit of volume that looks cool (and helps even out small mistakes you may have made along the way).

Thanks for reading this far! Let me know if there's something else I forgot to explain 😊

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕖𝕟

last christmas, i gave you my heart

ex!joe x fem!reader

note: (& kinda summary) SURPRISE! i said cindy lou didn’t have a part two but…. how could i spoil it for you? here’s what happened after the instagram dm, from joe’s perspective.

word count: 1.3k.

warnings: more sadness, hurt feelings, joe isn’t really an ass but he has poor decision making skills… etc. this fic is sfw but minors please do not interact with my page.

song inspo: cindy lou who by sabrina carpenter and lips of an angel by hinder.

joe didn’t really care about likes or comments on instagram.

he didn’t care to post too much either, regardless of what it was, because he preferred staying private and in his own lane. sure, he posted brand deals on there, the occasional game day fit or victory post, but he wasn’t one to flaunt a relationship around… not until today.

the christmas eve festivities were in full swing, and joe and his new girlfriend, along with his parents, were spending the evening together. they’d been to dinner, stopped by a few local places and eventually ended up at a rec center to watch a local christmas play.

when it was over they decided to take photos out in the hall, where the archway was decorated to the nines and the lighting was absolutely perfect for those warm, christmas-y shots.

joe and his girlfriend posed together alone, and then with his parents, and then they each took photos alone. once the photos were sent to him, he vetted through them carefully, selecting which ones he should post.

in his mind, he knew what he was doing was wrong… but in his heart, he wanted to know if you still cared. he wondered what you were up to this christmas. he assumed home with your family, maybe out with your sister. that’s something he knew you’d missed doing since you’d spent the last few christmases with him. he hoped you were able to go with her, that your holiday still felt special.

it didn’t. he didn’t know you didn’t go home to your family, that you were sat on your couch ready to drown in your wine glass and cry over a heart-breaking christmas movie. he didn’t know you were all alone there with him on your mind.

but in a sick, sick way… he also hoped that you were thinking of him, too.

joe posted the photos to his instagram with no caption, but he made sure to tag his girl. he slid his phone into his back pocket before joining back in the conversation she was having with his parents. his mind lingered on you.

joe wasn’t a cheater - nor would he ever be. he really enjoyed having his new girl around, and he didn’t know if he was in love yet, but he knew she felt like she could be right for him.

he sat with his thoughts for another hour before he checked his phone again. in the time since he posted the photos he laughed and talked with his company, holding his girlfriend’s hand and smoothing his thumb over her palm soothingly.

when he slid his phone from his back pocket and opened instagram, he had a multitude of notifications. family, fans friends.

but he looked at the likes anyway. it was wrong of him, toxic of him to hope you’d seen it… but you had. and you liked it. his chest began to feel tight.

why did he do that to you?

when you and joe broke up, it was all him. he knew it, you knew it. you were still completely in love with him. it made him physically sick to think about.

joe’s issue was… he still loved you too.

around the time of your break-up, things were incredibly tense. he was injured, he was in the roughest mental place he’d ever been in, and despite your valiant efforts to help him work through it, all he ever did was push you away. he continued to treat you poorly out of anger, and out of love you stuck by him.

he should have thanked you for that.

joe didn’t think he was falling out of love with you per se, but he wanted a break. he wanted space to find himself again, and though it completely broke you, you agreed. you would never force yourself into his life, not if he didn’t want you there.

he knew you thought you were the problem, and no matter how much he tried to explain you weren’t, you didn’t listen. he knew his actions weren’t conveying that he loved you, and that’s what forced the wedge between you… so when you split, there was never a reconciliation.

joe never reached out to you because he was afraid you’d reject him after all the pain he put you through. you didn’t reach out to him because you were convinced he was done with you, that he didn’t love you anymore.

when he met his new girl he was in a better place, and she was sweet. she was kind, beautiful, she had a heart of gold. she took his breath away, he hadn’t felt that in a while.

they started seeing each other casually before diving in head first, and he knew she loved him. he was getting there. but he still needed to let you go. the air in the room was getting hot, and although it felt like he’d been on his phone for an eternity, it was just a few minutes.

the hallway was full now, people who were in the play and family friends gathered around. his parents were chatting with the neighbors, his girlfriend was talking to one of the stars of the play. he looked around his periphery to make sure nobody could see him click your profile, and quickly he tapped your message button and typed something out.

joeyb_9: merry christmas, y/n.

he pressed send. his heart was hammering against his chest. his parents and his girl didn’t seem to notice. he didn’t expect you to answer so quickly. his breathing felt shaky as he saw you typing.

y/n: merry christmas, joe. i’m so happy for you.

the room began to spin. joe was getting hot. why why why. why did he do this?

he made a quick impulsive decision, against his better judgement. the voice in his head told him to stop, don’t do this. but his heart had to know. he excused himself quickly, claiming he had to make a work call.

he stepped outside of the rec center, the cool december air felt hot on his newly flushed skin. he closed the instagram app, clicking on the phone app and dialing your number. ring ring ring.

you answered.

“um… joe?” you asked. your voice sounded groggy, like you’d just fallen asleep.

“fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i called.” he admitted. he ran his hand over his face.

“are you— is everything okay?”

“it’s fine. i’m… fuck. i’m sorry. i hope you’re having a good holiday. i guess it just feels weird not to be with you.” he doesn’t know why he’s telling you this. in the building behind him, his girlfriend is laughing with his parents. she’s having a lovely holiday. and joe’s outside, on the phone with his ex.

“it is weird. but it seemed like you were having a good night based on your post. go back to whatever you were doing, please. i can’t do this.” he heard your voice crack. he imagined your face. he knew your hand was probably clamped over your mouth, he heard you start to cry.

“fuck, y/n. i’m so sorry.” he says. he feels like he’s going to cry too.

“don’t be upset for me, joey. you’ve got a beautiful girl in there. i saw the love in your eyes in those photos. don’t fumble this one, okay 9?” you told him through tears. hearing you call him that felt like a slap right across the cheek. he missed what you used to have.

he felt sickly. he knew he was probably as white as a ghost. you were right… but he needed the closure.

“thank you, y/n. i hope you’re doing well… and uh, it was good to hear your voice.” he said, scratching at the back of his head lightly.

“yours too, joe.” you said, and then you hung up. he heard the door to the rec center open and turned around, coming face to face with his girlfriend.

“you alright?” she asked, coming down the short steps to caress his cheek. “i’m okay.” he said. he put on a smile and let her link their arms before he walked back inside with her, leaving the last of his feelings for you outside in the freezing winter air. he was thankful that you let him go, and now he could finally let you go too.

all photos and dividers used are not mine. cred to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @joeyburrrow @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @yomamaslays4lyfe @gazebotori

[warblogs17282]

Now that helluva boss season 2 has hit it's finale, let's discuss everything we know about season 3 at this point in time!

aka, a comprehensive list of everything about season 3 that we've been told about so far. (Please tell me if I've missed anything, thanks!)

I do not think that any of this information necessitates a spoiler tag on this post, but if you want to go into season 3 completely blind, click off this post now.

Bluesky Stuff:

What we learned from this bluesky thread posted shortly before Sinsmas was released is as follows:

The wait until Season 3 starts will be quite long.

The team decided that helluva boss having closer releases of episodes was the best decision (heard this meant a month in-between episodes but I forgot where I saw that), so thee team wants to commit to a more traditional release going forward.

Confirmed once again that season 3 has a total of 15 episodes.

We will also be getting shorts in-between the wait until season 3 starts, and I assume this means monthly shorts as well, based on the fact we had monthly shorts last time as well.

Vivziepop has also described season 3 as a 'queer roller coaster.', so we gotta be prepared to get back on that ride again.

At some panel it was confirmed that in season 3 we will be getting an episode that contains some more Millie backstory.

Tweet link here:

In some other panel, alongside confirming Vassago's appearance in the Mastermind episode, they also confirmed that we will be seeing 'much more' of Vassago in season 3, the post in the picture above contains the clip of this moment in the panel as well.

In what appears to be a recording for the second half of season 3, they're doing recording work for a Stolas song titled 'Dirty Bird', and yes, it is going to be super horny. There is a video of this Instagram post on the post below, plus one extra screenshot.

In the Los Angeles Comic Con 2024, quite a few things were revealed to us, with those being as follows:

As said before, this traditional release schedule does mean that the episodes will hopefully be a month apart from each other, and that Vivziepop saw the show was moving towards a more narrative direction, with this also being where the heart of the show is, and as a result, the direction the team is going in.

Lastly, we probably won't see all 72 Goetias, but we will see a lot more of them in season 3.

Post referenced in above screenshot contains a youtube link to said Comic Con.

According to the reblogs under this post, it appears that Erica (Loona's VA), was asked what her favorite song/episode was, and she responded with 'the song that Loona has in season three', confirming that Loona does have a song during season 3.

Video can be found within this post:

At 1:06:19 of this video, Vivziepop does state that the show will eventually get to Stella's perspective, which I have to imagine the show will get to in season 3, and that Vivziepop hearkens Stella's character to the character of BoJack Horseman's mother (Beatrice Horseman) because they are very similar in that regard.

Finally, Vivziepop posted these screenshots of her doing some audio editing to her Instagram over a year ago, we don't know what episode this is from but based on the long name in line 7 that doesn't appear to match any character we know at the moment, this appears to likely be a picture of some season 3 audio.

The main things we can gather from these screenshots appear to be Millie talking with Stolas a bit, and the absolute explosion of voices following something that Blitz said.

Post where I found these screenshots from can be found here, some additional discussion regarding is also in the reblogs:

This YouTube video covers a few instagram videos covering recording footage that Vivziepop uploaded to her account, with them being from the first half of season 3.

What we learn from these instagram videos is that Wally Wackford returns in season 3 with some new lines, and there's also a courtroom scene as well involving Blitz and Stolas, with it also looking like Stolas will be acting as defense for Blitz regarding something we don't know at the moment.

To wrap things off, I believe the next significant reveal or such regarding season 3 will be found in the 2025 LVL UP EXPO, as there are quite a lot of VAs involved with Helluva Boss there, plus Sam Haft and Vivziepop.

Especially considering that in the 2024 LVL UP EXPO, the first helluva boss short was shown, we got the song featured in s2 e8, 'When I See Him' and the season 2 trailer.

[tsams-and-co-memes]

I normally wouldn't post/reblog these things here because I don't like having drama on this blog, but this is very important, so I'll make an exception this time

Thank you for tagging me and letting me know what's going on! I'm not sure who to tag that could spread this, but. I'll definitely be turning off media asks on most of my blogs here, just for my own well-being

If anyone who sees this is sensitive to anything involving gore, or anything that has to do with kids being killed/harmed, I'd highly recommend turning off your media asks as well. It's the holidays, and the last thing anyone wants to get seriously triggered when they're supposed to be relaxing and having a good time

Hello dear!

Sorry for bothering you, but it's important to remind you to turn off your asks for a few days! Bad things are going to happen on Tumblr soon...

Don t know anything about this but BETTER BE SAFE EVERYBODY!!!!!!

[whateversawesome]

To celebrate that today I'm posting the last chapter of My Enemy and the return of SXF, here's a fanart of my fic.

I'd like to thank @roucaelum-art for drawing this fanart for the last chapter of this fic. Thank you, Rou, for such a wonderful job!!

And you can read this completed fic here on ao3.

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 7

Summary: The group Christmas party takes a few unexpected turns.

CW: Swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of boobs?, sexual references.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

So I may have stayed up until 2am finishing this last night so that I could have it posted on schedule but it also might be my favourite chapter so far!

--

The apartment looked amazing. You'd gone all out with decorating in preparation for this evening's Christmas party. There were lights and candelabras adorning just about every available surface in the room. A garland was laid out across the TV stand and the table was set with your favourite Christmas place setting. You'd even hung mistletoe in the entryway.

You looked yourself over in the mirror once more. You were dressed in your brand new dress, your hair pinned up in a simple, yet elegant updo and you're favourite red lipstick coated your lips. It was important to you that you made a good impression tonight. Despite having already spent a significant amount of time with the group, this was your first time hosting and you'd put a lot of effort into making it perfect.

You took one last deep breath, adjusting your dress slightly where it sat on your shoulders and stealed yourself for an entrance.

The smooth notes of "Last Christmas" filled the air around you as you pushed open the bedroom door. You could hear voices drifitng from the living room. Your guests had arrived.

Exiting the comforting confines of your room, you couldn't help the nerves that wracked through you. That was only amplified when eyes fell upon your form.

"Oh my god!"

Mary was the first to speak, exclaiming loudly with that endearing enthusiasm that she always seemed to exude.

"You look incredible!"

She charged towards you and engulfed you in a warm embrace. You melted into her touch, her excitement helping to ease your nerves ever so slightly.

"Thanks, Mary. So do you!" you told her earnestly. She looked stunning in a silky, red, wrap dress.

"And look at this place!" she continued, pulling away and gesturing around the room. "Did you do this?"

"I had some help," you responded, glancing over at Sirius and James. They were standing beside the tree, chatting to Peter with drinks in hand.

It was at that moment that Sirius looked over to you and his eyes almost bulged fair out of his skull at the sight. He blinked at you senselessly for a moment, completely zoning out of the conversation he'd previously been a part of you. You chuckled lightly, winking and sending him a flirtatious wave across the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Mary was observing the interaction, a curious look of suspicion crossing her features.

"Well, then," She stated after a moment. "Shall we get you a drink?"

You nodded, smiling back at her. "I'd love that."

The two of you linked arms as you headed into the kitchen. Sirius' gaze followed you the whole way there.

--

The room was filled with people dancing and laughing and drinking. The party so far seemed to be a smashing success. You were sitting on the couch, positioned next to Lily while Dorcas sat on the oveseat, Marlene huddled in her lap. Mary was perched on the coffee table, engrossed deeply in a story about a man who'd attempted to ask her on a date in a bookshop earlier that week.

"I could tell he was hovering," she explained. "But I chose to ignore him for the most part. I was in the Crime and Thriller aisle when he approached and I kid you not, he looked me dead in the eyes and said 'I have a library card, can I check you out?'".

The group erupted into fits of laughter.

"But you weren't even in a library! It was a book shop right? That doesn't even make any sense!" Dorcas pointed out.

"I know!" Mary chuckled. "I just looked at him like he was crazy and told him I'm seeing someone. Not that I would've ever gone out with him even if I wasn't!"

"Ugh, men are ridiculous," Marlene remarked. "Luckily for me, they aren't something I have to worry about."

She leaned up and planted a sloppy kiss on Dorcas' cheek causing the girl to flinch away and groan dramatically, eliciting another ripple of laughter.

You took a sip of your cocktail. It was lovely and sweet; a combination of gin, prosecco and canberry juice. Mary had insisted on making them for the party. She called it a "Gin-gle Bell Fizz."

"So, y/n," Suddenly attention was on you as Lily piped up from your right. "Have you been seeing anyone recently?"

You inhaled sharply, accidentally swallowing wrong and causing yourself to sputter for a moment as you placed your glass down on the table.

"Oh no. Not at all," you chuckled, once you'd managed to regain your breath. "I've been lacking in the area of romance for quite some time, honestly."

"Really?" Dorcas pressed, and you nodded sheepishly.

"I'm surprised to hear you say that," Lily respoded kindly. You were sure that in the time you'd known her, you'd discovered the lovliest person on the planet. "You're so beautiful! Anyone would be lucky to have you!"

"I concur!" Marlene agreed. "You're a hit, babe. It's only a matter of time. I'm sure half of London has the hots for you by now."

You chuckled lightly. "Thanks everyone. Careful or you'll give me an ego."

"Don't worry. No matter how inflated it gets, it'll surely never be as large as James'," Dorcas announced, prompting another round of laughter.

"What's as large as me?"

As if on cue, James appeared behind you, leaning down over the couch so that his head was pertruding into your conversation.

"We were just talking about how hot, y/n is," Marlene chirped.

"Well you aren't wrong there," James smirked. "What'dya think I bought her that dress for?"

Mary raised a brow. "You bought her that, did you?"

He winked at her slyly. "Call it an early Christmas gift."

That's when Sirius appeared, Remus by his side.

"Speaking of gifts," he chimed in. "Who's ready for Secret Santa?"

"Oooh yes!"

That came from Peter, who was just returning from the kitchen with drinks for himself and Sybil.

"I call Santa!" James exclaimed, jumping up from his spot and rushing towards the tree as everyone took their seats.

__

"What on earth is this?"

James was surpressing a laugh as he ripped the last of the wrapping paper from his gift.

"They're shot glasses!" Marlene exclaimed as if that much wasn't obvious. She was leaning back in her chair, arms folded and a smug smirk across her face.

"They have tits!"

"I know! Classy aren't they?"

He held one of the glasses up so everyone could see and sure enough, they were shaped like the curves of a female body. You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the gift.

"And there are four in there, so each of you boys can use one," Marlene stated. "You know, just in case you were forgetting what they looked like-"

"Oh come off it!" Sirius responded, giving Marlene a playful shove from where he sat beside her as she giggled. "I get plenty of action, thank you very much. I'm the lead singer of a band, remember?"

She shrugged. "Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night!"

"Okay next!" James shouted, sitting his gift aside and rumaging once again under the tree. After a moment he retreated, his lop-sided santa hat (that he'd insisted on wearing) snagging on one of the branches and causing everyone to burst into a flurry of laughter.

"Alright," he announced once his hat was righted. "This one is for y/n!"

He passed you the gift, a small box wrapped in shiny gold wrapping. Excitedly, you pulled off the bow and began to tear into the paper, all eyes on you as the gift was unvailed.

Inside was a small, red box. On top of it was a tag, decorarted with the words, "For your new beginning here with us."

You pulled it open and couldn't stop yourself from gasping at what was inside.

It was a gold necklace with an ornate dragonfly charm, one that matched almost exactly with the orament on your tree. You pulled it out to inspect it closer.

"Oh my god! This is beautiful!"

Your eyes scanned the circle of people, looking for an indication of who might have given you the gift. You knew that your roommates were the only ones who new about your Christmas ornament so it had to be one of them. You already knew that James had Mary so that just left... Sirius. It had to be Sirius.

It made sense now as to why he didn't want to help you with your shopping. He apparently didn't want to give anything away.

You caught his eye across the room and sent him a genuine smile. One which he returned. You're heart felt fuzzy at the sentiment.

--

Secret Santa had been a hit, if you did say so yourself. Dorcas had absolutely fawned over the set of paintbrushes you'd gotten her and everyone else seemed reasonably satisfied with their presents.

You then sat down to eat dinner, and having each brought a plate of food, the meal seemed decently well-rounded. As you tucked into the turkey James had prepared, you said a silent prayer of thanks that you hadn't been made to serve this entire group. Let's just say you were a much better party host then caterer.

After dinner, your guests had retired to the couch where slightly tipsy game of 'Cards Against Humanity' had commenced (at Sirius' request, of course. According to Marlene, he'd been pulling that game out at every group gathering since high-school.)

You and Peter had volunteered to tidy up the plates before you joined them and ended up in a surprisingly interesting dicussion about the Botany course he'd briefly taken during University.

Towards the end of the conversation, you'd recieved a message from your Mum double checking the dates for your Christmas visit and you realised that your phone was down to 10%.

"Could you excuse me for a moment?" You asked Peter as you placed the last of the dishes in the dishwasher.

"Sure," he nodded gently. "If we're finished up here, I'll go join the others."

"Yeah, go for it. I'll be there in a second," you told him and quickly ventured down the hallway with the intent of plugging your phone in in your bedroom.

You responded to your Mum's message on the way and absentmindedly threw the door of your room open without even thinking to knock.

"Oh my god!" you shouted as you entered.

Mary and Lily pulled away from each other in a flash, from where they'd been interlocked in a passionate kiss only a moment prior.

Mary shushed you quickly, pulling you into the room and Lily rushed to push the door closed.

You all fell silent for a moment, listening as to whether anyone outside had heard you, however, a ripple of laughter told you that they were still absorbed in the game.

"What the hell?" you questioned, eyes wide as you looked between the two of them. Lily looked extremely embarassed, her face almost as red as her hair as she bit her lower lip.

Mary, on the other hand, just shrugged. "Surprise, I guess?"

"Are you two together?" You questioned, still trying to process the scene unfoldng before you. A realisation dawned on you a second later. "Mary, is Lily who you've been secretely seeing?"

Mary sighed, taking a seat on your bed as she thought over her next words carefully. "I wanted to tell you. We just weren't ready for it to come out in the group yet. We didn't want to make it a whole big thing."

You nodded thoughtfully, taking a seat on the bed beside her. Lily stood in front of you, fiddling with the rings on her fingers nervously.

"This is kind of new to us," she gestured between them and instantly you understood what she was referring to. "And we're still just figuring everything out."

You gave her a small smile, eyes drifting between the two girls. "Well... I'm really happy for you. You guys are a good match."

Mary smiled, wrapping a friendly arm around your shoulder. Lily seemed to relax a little.

"Thanks, girl," Marry said softly. "We appreciate that."

It was then that another, more invasive thought entered your mind.

"Oh god, Lily. James is going to freak out! He's been pining after you since forever!"

Lily let out a lofty sigh, looking immensely guilty. "I know. Which is why you can't tell him, okay? Or anyone."

You furrowed your brows. "Of course I won't tell anyone... but guys, these are your best friends. You can't keep sneaking around forever. You're going to have to tell them at some point."

"We know," Mary muttered. "We're just trying to figure out the right time to do it."

"But we promise we will," Lily added. "Soon. I mean, someone was bound to catch us sooner or later."

"Although, I'm glad it was you and not Sirius," Mary joked. "He cant keep a secret to save his life. Especially from James."

You chuckled lightly. "Yeah, you're right about that."

"So... you're really okay with all this?" Lily questioned. You could tell on her face that she was worried about putting you in an uncomforable situation.

You sighed and sent her a small smile. "Yeah of course. It's not my place to tell anyone about your personal situations. You have to do that when you're ready."

"Thanks, hun, you're the best!" Mary exclaimed, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you into a sideways hug.

You just chuckled as Lily gave you a warm smile.

"And just so you know, I think you guys make a really cute couple."

Lily turned bright red once more.

--

A few hours later, the party drew to a close. Peter and Sybil were the first to leave, followed shortly after by Dorcas and Marlene.

You said goodbye to Mary and Lily around 1am and the four of you who lived at the apartment stayed up a little while longer to tidy up before you went to bed.

Remus said goodnight earlier than the rest of you, as he was having trouble with his knee again. And you sent James off after him when you noticed how his eyes were falling shut while he was picking up wrapping paper.

Eventually, you and Sirius were all that was left. It was the dead of night by that point, and the city had grown silent. There was something peaceful about it, you observed, being awake while the rest of the world was sleeping. For a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

Sirius smiled when he caught you gazing out of the widow at the cityscape. There were a few cars still driving on the road below, a few stray lights on in apartment windows, a few little signs of life peering through an otherwise silent metropolis.

Sirius approached you slowly, coming to stand behind you as you looked out at the night-covered skyline.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked softly. His warm breath fanned the back of your neck.

"Those people down there, driving," you responded. "I wonder where they're going?"

Sirius chuckled. It was a deep, rich sound that welled from somewhere in his chest.

"It's a bit late for a drive, you'd think."

You hummed in response. "Isn't it odd to think about how life doesn't just exist around you?"

Sirius frowned. "What do you mean?"

You shrugged. "Like, the idea that every single person that you see through their apartment window, or pass on the street, or who's driving one of those cars down there, is living their own individual life. They each have their own stories; their own friends and family and lovers. There's just so many people in the world and most of them, we'll never cross paths with even once."

Sirius pursed his lips. "Wow. That is odd. I can't say I've ever really thought of it like that."

You turned around towards him, the countours of your face highlited in the dim lamp-light.

"Don't you ever wonder about your fans? Who they are? What their life is like? To think that there could be all these people out there listening to the music you created, and you may never even know their names."

Sirius pushed a low breath from his lips. "What a philosophical way to end a Christmas party."

You scoffed loudly and rolled your eyes. "Sorry to ruin the mood."

"It's no problem, love. As long as you had a fun time."

He placed his large hands on your upper arms and you couldn't fight the smile that arose. "I had a wonderful time. Did you?"

He returned your smile. "Best Christmas party yet!"

You giggled softely and he placed a kiss on your forehead. "Come on, it's getting late. We should head to bed."

You nodded and pulled away to gather your things. As you did so, your eyes fell on the box containing the necklace you'd recieved for Secret Santa. Another smile graced your lips at the sight of it.

"Hey Sirius?" You called out, just as the boy began to head towards his bedroom door.

"Yeah, doll?"

"I just wanted to say, thank you so much for your gift. It's so wonderful and thoughtful. I absolutely love it!"

A slight frown came over Sirius' face. "Uh... as much as i'd love to take the credit for it, I didn't get that for you."

Your brows furrowed. "Really?"

Sirius shrugged. "Sorry. I had Remus."

"Well then who..."

Your question trailed off as your eyes fluttered to the aformentioned man's door. No. Surely not. It couldn't be!

Remus?

He'd never get you a gift that thoughtful... would he?

You looked down at the necklace as Sirius bid you a final goodnight. Your finger gently drifted over the dragonfly pendent and then to the note that was stuck to the top of the box.

"For your new beginning here with us."

--

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people

[lovegalor333]

Warm December

part three of paigemas

paige bueckers x reader

paige surprises you by staying in storrs for christmas so you’re not alone

⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°｡꙳❆°⋆ ⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°｡꙳❆°⋆ ⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°｡꙳❆°⋆

The holiday season was a weird and complicated time for you. It came with a lot of bad memories since your mom died and home was the last place you wanted to be so the decision to stay in Storrs was an easy one. Your family were unbothered and didn’t have much to say when you broke the news. Your stepmom said she would save money not having to buy you gifts and your dad just grunted down the phone. A few years ago, this would have probably made you cry but you were used to your parents attitude now and you were grateful you went to college so far away from home.

It was December 21st and you had waved your roommates goodbye, cars full with wrapped presents and snacks you had packed for them. They both drove off in the falling snow, with Christmas music blasting from their speakers. Both girls tried to get you to go home with them, insisting their families would be happy to have an extra guest at their table but you weren’t one to impose and besides, you had a long list of books you wanted to read. The thought of bunkering down in your cosy apartment, spiced candles lit, a mug of hot tea in your hand and getting lost in a romance novel appealed to you more than you’d like to admit.

Before meeting your girlfriend, you lived vicariously through the relationships you read about. Fantasising about a love like Elizabeth Bennets and Mr Darcys. After being single your whole life, you were starting to believe that maybe love like that was entirely fictional and then along came Paige. Six foot tall, blonde, blue eyes and pure muscle. You and Paige had the most typical friends to lovers timeline. Having met through mutual friends, you quickly bonded over your Midwest roots and you both found yourselves wanting to spend more and more time together. You were both wildly oblivious to each other’s pining and it took one too many shots and a very calculated game of spin the bottle (thanks Azzi) for you to finally realise that you were on the same page.

Speaking of your girlfriend, she had also travelled home today. You said goodbye with tears in your eyes and one final kiss. “I’ll FaceTime you everyday.” Paige had said, “I want to know what happens at the end of Emma.” Paige loved listening to you talk about your current read, she insisted she cared about the storyline but with the way she looked at you, eyes soft and a small smile on her lips, you knew you could say absolutely anything and she’d listen intently.

The evening was drawing in and you had turned off all the big lights, your apartment lit by fairy lights and candles alone. The Christmas tree in the corner of the room glowed warmly making the space feel like a cosy grotto. The whole place smelled like cinnamon and with your Christmas playlist softly emitting from your Alexa, it softened the blow that you’d be alone at this time of year.

A knock on your apartment door broke through your thoughts and you imagined it was your Post Mates order so you carefully placed your book mark inbetween the pages you were currently reading and went to answer the door. Your door step was empty, nothing or nobody was there and you furrowed your brow in confusion and peeked your head around the door to see who knocked.

It took you a few seconds to process what you saw, “Paige! What are you doing here?” You gasp, seeing your girlfriend, body pressed against the wall, a huge cheesy grin on her face and a red santa hat perched on her head, “Surprise, my love.”

“You’re meant to be on a plane right now!” You say as she pulls you into a hug. Paiges hugs were hands down your favourite thing in this whole world. The way her arms snaked around your waist and squeezed you tight, the way her head nuzzled into your neck as she pressed light kisses to your skin. Your nostrils were filled with her scent, a scent you had prepared yourself to not smell for a few weeks and you breathed in deeply taking in as much of it as you could.

“I’m meant to be right here.” Paige says walking back into your apartment with one arm still wrapped around your waist.

“What are you talking about? I thought you were going back to Minnesota.”

“I was. And then I thought about it. Go there where I’ll just get grilled by my family about shit I cannot be bothered to explain or stay here. With you. Where we can be with each other all day and night. Where I can make you tea while you read and you can cook while…I watch because God knows I’ll burn the place down.” Paige tucks your hair behind your ear and her eyes skim over your face, “You didn’t think I’d let you spend Christmas alone did you?” She asks, her thumb gently stroking your cheek.

“I don’t know. Kinda. But it’s normal, everyone goes home. I wouldn’t have minded.” You mumble looking into Paiges eyes. You wouldn’t have resented Paige for going home for the holidays, it wasn’t her fault your family didn’t know how to act. “You know I love you, right? Like a lot. And Christmas is about being with the people you love. Now come and sit on Santas lap and tell me what’s on your list.” Paige smirked as she pulled you to the couch, positioning you on her lap.

You giggled as Paige did her best Santa impression. Voice deep and gravelly, “Have you been a good girl this year?” You nod playing into her game, “Very good.”

Paige raised a brow, breaking character, her usual accent back, “Good girls arch their back, ass up?” You gasped, lightly slapping her arm, “Paige! Santa would not say that!”

“Oh my bad- Ho ho ho! What’s on your Christmas list?” She regained composure, putting on her Santa voice once again, holding her stomach as she ho’d, really getting into character.

“Didn’t make a list. Everything I need is all right here.” You smile, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your girlfriends lips. “I love you, Paige.” “I love you too.”

The rest of your night was spent cuddled into Paige on your couch. The Christmas lights around your dim apartment twinkled silently as you watched your favourite festive movie - The Holiday. Paige traced delicate shapes into your back and every now and then you would catch her staring at you. The light from the television illuminating her perfect features. She would press soft kisses to your head when a romantic scene played and when you found yourself sniffling as the young characters on screen laid in their fort and spoke about their mom who had passed away, Paige slipped her hand into yours and squeezed it tightly.

The holiday season was a weird and complicated time for you but like always Paige was there to make it less weird and less complicated and for that, you could only let a tear slip out of your eye. Grateful for the girl next to you and her deep, unapologetic love.

two posts in an hour so im back on track 🙂‍↕️ happy christmas eve eve baddies 💋

🏷️: @buecketsnbueckets @rosemariiaa @sierrale8ne @avvwritesstufff @blackbarbie96 @melpthatsme @jnkbueckers @cloclos-posts @onlyhereforpazzi @paigeshirleytemple @mattsmunchkin @bueckersbitch @rizzlerbuckets @numberonepartyanth3m @washing-machine-heart245 @katemartinlvr @girlslovee @taylynbueckers44 @thatonequeer0358 @the-other-half @xxxggggsh @evry1luvzza

[systems-overloaded]

ill make a seperate post with the non-professional advice i give anyone with mental illness (active or history of) that is seeing a physical medical doctor. because this post ended up pretty long.

~

this is about some of our experiences of mental health issue affecting physical health care. as well as our physical health conditions affecting/interacting with our mental health conditions.

--

forewarning, it is a very long read. i tried to condense it, but i struggle to do that.

--

ooph, this shit is so true. although i do think there's a good amount of truth in neurosciences, i just think there are alot of /neurologists/ specifically that are shams, or at least extremely biased and prejudiced about alot of things. neurologists also seem to have the biggest ego of all specialists drs ive seen.

~

i have a couple genetic disorders, which like i have the clinical profiles for and also have genetic tests that match. but only after alot of years of progressively getting worse and going to so many doctors to try to find out why. i actually had to do a bunch of research when i could, even analysed my raw dna data from an ancestry test, found a specialist in the suspected disorders, and got a very clear clincal diagnosis, then got official WGS testing to further confirm that.

so my self-diagnosis was right for a good couple of my disorders actually, but most were diagnosed by others after the other diagnoses were confirmed.

(like evidence of one phsyical disorder made other drs start to take my other symptoms seriously thankfully, bc now it was less likely to be mental illness/conversion symptoms in their eyes.)

but one of the /very first diagnosis/ that a neurologist tried to give me was Functional Neurological Disorder (which i do think is understood to be a bit different now than conversion syndrome, but to most drs it meant the same thing back then. even now, alot of doctors use FND and conversion disorder interchangeably, they think FND is just conversion disorder but "rebranded" so there's less pushback about a diagnosis, which isnt true.)

but FND is a diagnosis of exclusion. thank fuck my moms knowledgeable about stuff and said "no, you cannot diagnose my child that from one conversation and zero tests except routine labs, thats only by exclusion. you have done no tests to investigate their symptoms." so it never was an offical dx, but it was in the doctors notes still, which follow me to other doctors unfortunately.

it should never be the first thing a neurologist diagnoses or suggests to someone. he probably tried to for me because i was on medicine for anxiety depression and OCD, and was having alot of neurological symptoms.

(he also tried to say all my decline, daily headaches and constant migraines id developed after a TBI was just "post concussion syndrome" and "stress", but it was still going on 4+ years at that point. we had no idea PCS is not supposed to last that long, and trusted him about that at least. but when i had to switch drs, my new neurologist was actually /appalled/ the previous one didnt do further tests, or even get an updated MRI. he honestly seemed in disbelief that the old dr was trying to tell us it was "totally normal" to still be so affected after so long, let alone be having a decline as well.)

id literally had to stop my OCD meds very abruptly and have awful withdraws because he (the old negligent neurolgist) refused to do any further testing until i stopped that medicine (without consulting a psychiatrist even, he just said i had to stop it. such such dangerous and reckless doctor advice/order).

i was progressively declining and having alot of seizures and different dangerous medical events. so i stopped it and suffered bad withdraws ontop of everything else that was happening, went back to him, just for him to say it mustve been stress still, i was "stressed".

-

"its stress" is a dr code phrase for "i dont have any idea whats happening with this patient but my ego will never let me admit that, so im going to blame the patient and say its all anxiety".

alot of drs wont admit if they dont know something. but all of my good drs, who have actually been investigating things and gotten to the bottom of a couple of my disorders, have admitted that because im a complex case, they dont know which issues are being caused by what.

they do tests to rule out or confirm major issues and then we try meds/treatments for various things to see if they help to try and find origins. and sometimes we just wont know what a symptom is from, but the goal is to find ways to improve my quality of life and capabilities, while doing frequent testing to keep an eye on the issue. like, all my best drs put their egos aside and say "lets investigate together".

i have been failed in alot of ways by the medical systems and doctors, but i have also had good drs and recieved alot of help as well.

--

but alot of that good help, only came after advocating and fighting like hell for my symptoms to be investigated properly. after doing a fuck-ton of research myself because the system was failing me and i was dying (literally), then finding a specialist in what i suspected was my main issue. they investigated and tested for it properly, then gave me a clincial diagnosis, then "proof" of the disorder via genetic testing later on.

--

im actually lucky in the sense that i actually have some known variants. because a couple of my genetic disorders dont always have known variants found yet, and despite myself having a very clear clincal profile, some doctors didnt even want to "accept" the diagnosis i was given, until they saw a clear genetic marker. even though i was diagnosed already, it was always "patient suspects ____ disorder, still awaiting WGS test to confirm.", "patient has concerns of ___ disorder, no genetic testing done yet.", "patients claims was diagnosed with ____, but no genetic testing done."

if my doctors hadnt been refusing to treat me for my other disorders, "until genetic tests come back", then i wouldnt have tried to get testing, because alot of drs who specialize in this disorder advocate for patients to NOT get testing, because even if someone has a clear clinical diagnosis and treatments are helping, if genetic results come back negative some doctors will take away the clinical diagnosis, stop treatments, and slap a conversion/FND label on them. then the patient doesnt improve because they dont have that, they have a genetic disorder with an un-found variant.

like, im talking about a disorder that the vast majority of people who have it, DO NOT have an identified variant, and it has clear clinical diagnostic requirements, which i fit. its not a diagnosis of exclusion, i fit the clinical tests and profiles, but so many doctors wouldnt accept my diagnosis unless i had a genetic test showing positive.

--

from the time of clinical diagnosis to actually getting testing was a little over 4 years, and my other doctors were all still treating my very real, very clear clincal diagnosis as if i was just suspecting it. so everything, all treatments except for PT (which always made me worse, which is a known thing with my disorder) and some of the meds i was already on, was being delayed and put into limbo, of "lets wait for the genetic test first", even things unrelated to that diagnosis.

everyone said i needed WGS before anything else, but insurance wouldnt cover it, even with appeals, and fighting for so many years for it. so i had to try and save for it myself which is crazy hard when you're disabled with no income. while saving up, we were still trying to get insurance to cover it.

--

so in this circumstance, thank fuck i actually had some known variants! because if i hadnt? i honestly would be dead. and i firmly believe that would be due to medical negligence and malpractice. which i also firmly believe was rooted in mental illness stigma, and stigma/bias due to the fact that an abuser was intefering with my health care (still is actually) by calling doctors offices and telling them that i have munchausens and/or by proxy.

(which i consider this to still be a mental health stigma/bias issue, not a genuine concern, bc alot of the tests and diagnoses i had are not something that someone can fake??? so seeing those shouldve made drs not take my abuser's words seriously, had they not been so biased about it, had it not clouded their judgment so much.)

-------------------

also, on the topic of phsyical abilities affecting mental health:

ooph i also have alot to say about that, in particular how my disabilities affect my OCD, and sometimes needing other people to engage in my compulsions for me, which sounds really weird when i word it like that.

and often i cant engage in some compulsions, or others cant get things "just right" for me, thats a major theme/pattern for my OCD. so ive basically been getting exposure therapy more and more as my physical abilities declined. and its awful awful for both me and my caregivers/helpers when im trying to convey while very stressed the exact way they need to place something or do something, etc. and when im overhwlemed or dysregulated (like how OCD can cause) then im very prone to meltdowns and to speech loss episodes as well, which then interferes with being able to communicate what i need in that moment too.

~

and needing help requires so much vulnerability, often i have people willing to help. safe people, who i love and the logical part of me knows would never actually hurt me. but with traumas and triggers, sometimes i just dont shower, or dont change my clothes, or i hold my urine in, or dont do some other things if i require help.

(and having experiences that match a PDA autism profile, whether from trauma or autism or a mix of both idk. can make all that worse too. i deny my own needs, even when i can do them, because my body is trying to demand it from me, which feels like a threat to my autonomy and choices.)

on the phsyical capabilities level though, i try to wait it out as long as i can until i can muster the energy and abilities to do something myself, or until i cant wait longer and need help. ill try to orient myself to remind i am safe, and sometimes just have to face those emotions, face those triggers.

i know that sounds bad, and i mean it is bad. i dont want to downplay it too much, but i also think its a fairly normal response to the things have have happened to me, and the loss of control my illnesses cause/create/exacerbate.

i have all the supports in place to be able to recieve that help, im often needing that help, but i need to try to hold onto control and autonomy as much as possible that id rather be lacking in my hygeine (especially bc im not even leaving the house or being very active to get sweaty or gross), or have abdominal pain from holding urine/bowel movements in, than traumatize myself if i might just be able to wait a longer until i have the ability to transfer myself and clean myself.

-

my mental illnesses and PTSD affect my willingness to recieve the help from safe and well meaning people even when i do need it. and that then further can affect my mental and/or phsyical health.

like, its just a really shitty situation, that im still trying to learn the best way to cope with. trying to find the best way to let myself recieve help. to let myself to vulnerable, to truly /feel/ that its safe to ask for help even. not logically know, but actually feel it.

thankfully, my main caregiver is respectful of my "no's", and even if shell emphasize if i need to shower, check ive ate or drank water, and offer me help if i need it, she respects when i say "i need help but i dont want it, ill let you know when it gets to the point you need to be hands-on."

shes well meaning, but we still have some communication issues, especially when i have alot more speech issues, and can struggle to communicate to her.

i often think others can read my mind, not in the delusion way, but in the sense that i assume others can read my body lanaguge (even when im not being physically expressive, flat face, etc), and that the way i feel and the things i need are just already understood by others.

and i dont always realize how different some of my thinking patterns/needs are from others as well, and assume they experience some of the same things, so they are just automatically understand.

-

and ive had multiple instances now, when i was having anaphalaxis, but have traumas around needles i cant control (and auto injectors count as a needle i cant control). ive had to wait until i was too incapacitated from an allergic reaction, to have my mom inject me with an epipen.

i am mentally incapable of injecting an auto injector, and will physically resist when capable too even if i want the epinephrine. i can get really severe flashbacks just /thinking/ about needles being inside me. i cannot get the body to do it.

so, i have given prior consents for her to be able to inject me with an epipen if im having really bad reactions even if i say no. but she has had to wait until im too weak or sick, or just dissociated and disconnected and in fawn/flop/freeze rather than fight/flight, to inject me.

so its at least not too bad of a trauma, but it is still extremely traumatic. to need that, and to need someone i love and feel safe with, need to be the person that injects that needle i cant control.

---

well, this was a very long responses. seems when i do post, i write alot. i can struggle to condense and summarize things well, so i apologize if there was too many details or words.

just writing to the void of the internet, a world of strangers and bots. so if feels like i can be more open i think.

i cant speak for everyone but i feel like it's underrated just how much impact being physically disabled has on mental health. because physically disabled people often have to remind others that we struggle with mental health issues that it sometimes sounds like an afterthought to others. but it's a real impact of being physically disabled. being unable to go outside or leave the bed worsens depression. having actively declining health worsens depression because part of depression is being unable to imagine a future for yourself. it also creates anxiety. you have to rely on people. on carers, family, the government. it's hard to assure anxiety when you are in a precarious position and the "worst case scenario" is not something you can circumvent or deal with, because lack of care will kill you. has killed people like you. being told you are worthless, that people like you should die or never live in the first place has a big impact on mental health. being physically disabled and unable to defend yourself, being forced to rely on people, opens up a lot of opportunities for abuse and trauma. being in pain is traumatic, medical procedures may be traumatic - and being a disabled child leads you to be doubly vulnerable. people often have to focus on their physical needs to keep them alive - to keep them clean and fed and such. and with such little energy to spare it is difficult to manage mental health. all the stigma surrounding mental health doesn't disappear because you're already disabled. sometimes when you do reach out people will just focus on trying to make you less disabled in order to cure the mental illness issue, instead of giving you the tools to help manage it in your current and real life.

[thebirdsareafterme]

enjoy the butterflies 🦋

For @thankyoudanielfest

Poured all of my sad into this piece back in September. Details under the cut.

I had forgotten what it felt like to love something or someone so vivaciously that it pushes you to create art. Thank you Daniel, for showing me what it means to love wholeheartedly and unabashedly, and for reigniting my love for drawing.

[pandapetals]

Gift Wrapped

A RETROSABERS X PANDAPETALS DOUBLE FEATURE

Logan got you a special gift this Christmas...himself.

logan howlett x fem!gf reader - established relationship, christmas vibes, steamy, implied smut, fluff, teasing banter, sweetheart/darling/gorgeous pet names, i imagined origins logan, kissing, fingering, orgasm withholding, slight praising, good girl used once, begging

a/n: collab with the amazing @retrosabers, thank you so much for asking me to do this. check out their post. it's way better than mine tbh. the theme is “unwrapping”. why not unwrap logan since he wasn't under my tree.

divider credit: @bernardsbendystraws

“Are your eyes closed, sweetheart?” Logan’s voice was low and a little shaky, the kind of tone that made you both suspicious and intrigued. You sat cross-legged on the sofa, the warmth of the fireplace curling through the air, the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights flickering red and gold behind your closed lids.

“Yes,” you said, drawing out the word with mock caution. “Though I’m starting to think I should be worried. What did you do?” A teasing laugh slipped from your lips, the kind of laugh that had gotten Logan into trouble—and out of it—more times than he could count.

Logan exhaled, rolling his eyes even though you couldn’t see him. He raked a hand through his messy hair, the sound of crinkling wrapping paper accompanying his nervous shuffle. His bare feet padded softly against the wooden floor as he exited the bedroom. “What am I doing?” he muttered under his breath. His plan had seemed funny—brilliant, even—when it had first popped into his head. Now, standing half-naked in the living room, most of his body swaddled in sloppily taped wrapping paper, he wasn’t so sure.

“Well?” you prompted, your fingers drumming lightly against your knees. The slight quiver in your voice wasn’t exactly fear, but curiosity laced with a hint of concern. “Logan? Why are you so quiet? You’re starting to freak me out.”

Logan paused mid-step, the flush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. He was suddenly very aware of how ridiculous he looked—strips of shiny red wrapping paper crisscrossed over his chest, held together by haphazard loops of tape, his plaid boxers peeking out from underneath like the world’s laziest Christmas outfit. His abs were more on display than he’d planned, and let’s not even get started on the oversized gold bow stuck to his hip.

“Okay, uh...maybe this was a bad idea,” Logan mumbled, taking a half-step back toward the bedroom. He tugged at the edge of the paper, wincing as it tore slightly. “You know what, forget it. I—”

“Logan,” you interrupted your tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. “What are you doing? You sound...weird.”

He froze. His heart thudded in his chest as you cracked one eye open, just a sliver at first, and then both flew wide. You were silent for a moment, your mouth slightly ajar as your gaze swept over him, taking in the sight of your six-foot-tall boyfriend wrapped like a naughty Christmas present.

“...Oh my god,” you whispered, your voice catching on a laugh you couldn’t hold back. Your hands flew to your mouth as your eyes sparkled, flickering between disbelief and glee. “Logan, what—what are you—” You broke off into full-blown laughter, clutching your stomach as you tried to catch your breath.

Logan groaned, his cheeks burning hotter than the fireplace behind you. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, crossing his arms—or trying to as the stiff wrapping paper crinkled and refused to cooperate. “This is the last time I try to be creative.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, the laughter dying into soft giggles. “No, no, stop, it’s just—oh my god, Logan, are you...wrapped in wrapping paper?”

“Obviously.” He arched a brow, his lips twitching like he wanted to be annoyed but couldn’t quite manage it. “You said you wanted a surprise, so...ta-da. Surprise.”

You tilted your head, your laughter fading as you let your gaze linger on him. The glow of the tree lights danced across his skin, catching on the sharp lines of his jaw and the faint flush dusting his chest. You bit your lip, a slow grin spreading across your face. “You know,” you said, your voice taking on a sultry edge, “this is probably the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Hands down.”

Logan perked up, his confidence flickering back to life as he caught the gleam in your eye. “Yeah?” He smirked, taking a step closer, his voice dropping an octave. “You like what you see, gorgeous?”

You leaned back against the sofa, your lips curling playfully as your gaze wandered over him again, lingering just enough to make his pulse spike. “Well,” you said thoughtfully, tapping a finger against your chin, “the bow’s a little crooked. And the tape job? Honestly, it’s a mess.”

Logan rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his laugh. “Really? That’s your takeaway?”

“But,” you continued, your tone softening as you met his eyes, “it’s still...pretty perfect.”

Logan grinned, stepping closer until he stood right before you, his knees brushing yours. “Damn right, it is.” He leaned down, his voice dropping to a murmur as he added, “But I think the best part is unwrapping me. Don’t you?”

You felt your cheeks heat, your breath hitching slightly as his hand brushed your knee, the heat of his skin seeping through your flannel pajamas. “I don’t know,” you teased, your voice dipping low. “I might just keep you wrapped up like this. You’d make a great centerpiece.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your ear. “Good luck with that,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Because this gift has plans, darlin’. And they don’t involve staying wrapped.”

Your pulse quickened, a shiver rolling down your spine as his fingers trailed lightly over your knee. “Oh yeah?” you murmured, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “Guess we’ll see who’s really in charge of this gift, won’t we?”

Logan’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with challenge. “I guess we will,” he said, his lips brushing yours as his hand slipped to your waist.

You tugged him closer to you, the paper giving away a bit with a satisfying rip that echoed through the cozy living room. Logan froze for a second, his eyes widening in mock horror as he glanced at the ruined wrapping. “Oh no,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching. “You’ve destroyed my masterpiece.”

You grinned up at him, your teeth catching your bottom lip as your fingers brushed the newly exposed skin at his hip. His gaze darkened as he leaned in, his hands tightening on your waist as his lips finally claimed yours. The kiss was soft before you slid your fingers through his hair deepening it.

Logan’s fingers slid under your flannel top, brushing over the bare skin of your waist, and you gasped against his mouth as warmth bloomed in your chest—and core. 

“Hmm,” you murmured, tilting your head as though inspecting a piece of art. “You know, Logan, I think you’re right. The wrapping paper is kind of in the way.” Your hands slid to his chest, fingers grazing the exposed skin there, and you grinned as you added, “I think it’s time to finish unwrapping my present.”

Logan let out a low laugh, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “Don’t let me stop you, darlin’. But just so you know...” His teeth grazed your earlobe.“Once you’re done unwrapping, I’m going to make sure you know exactly how good of a gift I am.”

Your cheeks burned, heat pooling in every inch of your body as his words sank in. The tension between you crackled like the lights on the tree. The rest of the world faded away—the cozy living room, the fireplace, the half-empty mugs of cocoa on the table. All that mattered was Logan, his hands on you, his lips teasing yours, and the delicious anticipation thrumming between you like a pulse.

You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear, your smile curling into something wicked. “Merry Christmas to me, indeed,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

Logan barely had time to smirk before the last shred of wrapping paper hit the floor, pooling around his feet in a heap of crumpled red and gold. Now there was nothing left between you but the glow of the tree lights and the thin barrier of his plaid boxers, clinging low on his hips.

His hand slid to your waist, tugging you forward with an easy, practiced confidence. “Well,” he drawled, his voice rich and dripping with amusement, “I’d say this makes me the best damn gift you’ve ever unwrapped.” His grin turned devilish as his fingers teased the edge of your pajama top. “And if I’m wrong… you’re going to have a hell of a time convincing me otherwise.”

You laughed, the sound vibrating through the small living room. “Oh, don’t worry. I have no complaints so far,” you teased, trailing a finger lightly down the hard plane of his chest, the heat of his skin seeping into your touch. “But I am starting to wonder how much more unwrapping there is to do…”

Logan arched a brow, the glint in his eye a perfect match for your mischievous grin. “Careful, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dipping to a near growl. “You might end up on Santa’s naughty list for saying things like that.”

Your laughter turned breathy as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was slow at first—just enough to tease, to make you ache for more. But before you could lose yourself completely, he pulled back, his gaze locking with yours as his hands slid to your waist. With a single, fluid motion, he guided you back against the couch, the plush cushions cradling you as he followed, his body hovering just above yours.

“You’re not getting away that easily,” you murmured, catching his wrist before he could settle his weight. Your fingers curled around his forearm as you shifted beneath him, pulling him closer until the heat of his skin pressed firmly against you. “If you’re the gift, Logan, I intend to enjoy every second of unwrapping you.”

He let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest as he braced himself above you. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice rough with promise. Then, his lips were on yours again, harder this time, deeper, the kiss unraveling the last threads of restraint between you.

You sighed into him, your fingers sliding up to tangle in his hair, the soft strands curling around your touch as his hands skimmed over your sides. The flannel fabric of your pajama shirt bunched under his palms as he tugged at the hem, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His lips broke from yours, only to find the sensitive skin of your neck, and you let your head fall back, giving him better access as he trailed slow, deliberate kisses down the column of your throat.

“Logan,” you murmured, your voice hitching slightly when his teeth grazed your pulse point. He hummed against your skin in response, the sound vibrating through you and setting your nerves alight.

Your hands moved instinctively, tugging at the hem of your shirt, but Logan beat you to it, his fingers sliding underneath the fabric to help you peel it off. The cool air hit your skin for only a moment before his mouth returned, warm and demanding, as he kissed his way across your collarbone. His hands followed, mapping every curve, every line as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you.

“Hmm,” Logan murmured against your skin, his lips brushing just below your ear, sending a delicious shiver racing down your spine. “I have to say, sweetheart…” His voice was low, teasing, but there was a raw edge to it now, a hunger that made your stomach tighten. “You look better out of flannel than in it.”

A soft laugh escaped you as your fingers drifted over the taut muscles of Logan’s back. His skin was warm beneath your touch, flexing ever so slightly under your fingertips as he pressed his body firmly against yours. The heat between you was electric, crackling like the embers in the fireplace, and it only intensified when his lips found their way lower, tracing a slow, deliberate path down your chest.

Your breathing hitched as he paused just above the waistband of your flannel pants, his mouth hovering, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. His warm and steady hands rested on either side of your hips, his thumbs teasing light, maddening circles against your skin.

“Logan…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but its plea was unmistakable. You tilted your head against the cushions, your eyes fluttering closed as a soft whimper escaped your lips. “Please. Keep going.”

That was all it took. Logan let out a low, gravelly moan that sent a shiver racing through you. His lips curled into a smirk against your skin, and you felt the vibration of his chuckle as he murmured, “You’re so pretty when you beg.”

The words sent a flush of heat through you, and when you opened your eyes, his gaze was locked on yours, dark and hooded. Slowly, deliberately, he dragged his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your pants, making your whole body tense in response.

Your breath caught as his fingers dipped beneath the fabric, his touch teasing and confident. He moved with purpose, and in one smooth motion, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slid the flannel down, baring you to him inch by excruciating inch. The fabric pooled at your ankles, forgotten, as his eyes raked over you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice husky and filled with reverence, as though the sight of you left him completely undone. His hands trailed back up your thighs, the roughness of his palms a delicious contrast to the softness of your skin, and you arched into his touch, your body instinctively seeking more.

The room felt smaller now, the glow of the Christmas tree casting a warm, intimate light over the two of you. Logan leaned forward, his lips brushing your knee, then your thigh, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one igniting a new spark of heat beneath your skin. He was taking his time, savoring you.

“I need you,” you breathed, your voice trembling as you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. He looked up at you through his lashes, his expression equal parts mischief and raw hunger. “Please…”

He smirked, his hands tightening slightly on your thighs as he murmured, “Patience, gorgeous. Good things come to those who wait.” But his teasing tone was betrayed by the way his breath was coming faster now, his self-control fraying at the edges.

Logan’s lips traveled lower, leaving a trail of heat across your skin as he pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, then down to the swell of your chest. Each touch of his lips sent tiny shockwaves rippling through you, your breaths coming in shallow, uneven bursts. His hands followed the curve of your body, rough yet deliberate, their slow descent sparking a fire that bloomed deep in your core.

When his hand slipped between your thighs, your whole body tensed, your breath catching in your throat. His palm was warm, and steady, as it rested there for a teasing moment, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the sensitive skin, just enough to make you squirm beneath him.

The vibration sent shivers skittering through you. Your fingers curled into the muscles of his shoulders as his lips moved again, dipping lower and brushing just above where your nipple was. His kisses were unhurried and deliberate, as though he were memorizing your shape and taste.

And then, finally, his fingers moved. A gasp slipped from you as he began to explore, his touch achingly slow, maddeningly gentle. He stroked through your folds with deliberate precision, testing, teasing, his movements guided by the quiet, involuntary sounds spilling from your lips. You could feel the smile forming against your skin as he paused, his breath hot and uneven as it fanned over your chest.

“You’re already so ready for me,” he murmured, his voice husky, the rough edge of his words sending another jolt of heat racing through you. His fingers worked in rhythm now, the pressure of his touch steadily building, coaxing soft, breathy whimpers from your throat.

You arched against him, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging lightly in a way that made him groan against your skin. “Logan…it feels so good,” you breathed, your voice trembling, your body aching for more.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark, half-lidded gaze locking with yours. The intensity in his eyes left you breathless, your heart thundering in your chest. “I love the way you say my name like that,” he murmured, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “Like you can’t help yourself.”

You shivered under his touch, his words unraveling something deep inside you, and you met his gaze with your own, your lips parting to reply—but then his fingers dipped just right, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you gasping instead.

Logan chuckled softly, the sound low and indulgent as he leaned in to press his lips against yours. The kiss was slow at first, teasing, a perfect match for the rhythm of his touch, but it quickly deepened as the tension between you snapped like a taut wire. He kissed you like he wanted to consume you, to devour every inch of you, and you found yourself clinging to him, your fingers sliding from his hair to the firm muscles of his back as he pressed closer.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, almost reverent. “You’re driving me crazy.”

His fingers moved again, coaxing another broken whimper from your throat, and his mouth found its way back to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there in a way that made your whole body arch into him. The heat between you was nearly unbearable now, a steady hum of desire that blurred the edges of the world around you, leaving only the two of you tangled together, breathless and wanting.

And then Logan paused, his lips brushing your ear, his breath warm and heavy as he whispered, “Tell me what you want.” His voice was teasing, almost smug, but there was an edge of need beneath it, a rawness that mirrored the ache building in your chest.

Your lips parted, and when you spoke, your voice trembled, soft but sure. “You, Logan. I just want you.”

His growl rumbled low in his chest, the sound alone sending a thrill spiraling through you. A delicious shiver coursed down your spine as Logan’s mouth claimed yours again, his kiss demanding and possessive, as though he couldn’t get enough. The weight of his body pressed you into the cushions even as his touch had you floating somewhere far beyond reason.

“Hold it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and edged with a command that made your pulse stutter. His fingers didn’t stop their maddening rhythm between your thighs, every slow, deliberate stroke sending heat pooling low in your belly. His breath was hot, uneven as it brushed your cheek, but his control over you—and himself—was unnervingly steady. “Not yet. Don’t you dare cum until I say.”

You barely managed a breathless laugh, your head tipping back as his lips left yours to trail down your jaw, the scrape of his teeth against your skin making your whole body tense beneath him. “I thought you were my gift,” you managed to say, your voice breaking on a soft moan as he worked his fingers with excruciating precision. “Shouldn’t I have control over when I get to…”

Logan paused for a fraction of a second as the words died in your throat. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His dark eyes were burning with hunger and amusement, and the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. “Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice deep and slow. “You do have control… but only if I give it to you.”

The words sent a rush of heat cascading through you, leaving you trembling in his arms. His lips dipped lower, brushing the curve of your throat, and he chuckled softly when your breath hitched. “But if you want me to stop,” he murmured, his voice a teasing whisper as his fingers slowed their pace, barely brushing over your most sensitive spot, “just say the word.”

“Logan…” you gasped, your nails digging lightly into his shoulders as your hips shifted instinctively beneath him, desperate for more. You felt his grin against your skin, wicked and far too self-satisfied, and it only made you want to wipe it off his face—or make him lose that careful control he clung to so tightly.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured as his lips grazed the hollow of your throat. “Every little sound you make, every little shiver…” His fingers pressed just right, and your soft cry was answer enough to him. “It’s like your body was made for me.”

The tension in your body built higher and higher, every nerve alight, your skin hypersensitive to every small movement of his hand, every press of his lips. You could feel the ache growing, the edge creeping closer, and your breaths came faster, sharper, as the coil inside you tightened to the breaking point.

“Logan, I can’t—” Your voice broke, your hands sliding from his shoulders to his hair, gripping tight as you struggled to hold back. He lifted his head, his expression dark and heated as he watched you come undone beneath him.

“Yes, you can,” he said softly, his voice like velvet, soothing and commanding all at once. His lips brushed your ear, his breath warm and teasing as he added, “You’re going to hold it for me, sweetheart. You’re going to let me take you exactly where I want you to go.”

A frustrated whimper escaped you, your back arching beneath him, and his low chuckle made your skin flush even hotter. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a touch so gentle it was almost infuriating, and whispered, “Because when I finally let you, it’s going to feel so damn good, you won’t even remember your name.”

You trembled beneath him, his words unraveling what little control you had left. The tension between you was electric, the air thick with heat and want, and you could do nothing but hold on to him, your breaths coming in shallow, ragged bursts as his touch pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“Logan, please,” you gasped, your voice breaking on his name, your body trembling with the effort of restraint.

He smiled against your skin, his lips brushing just below your ear. “Good girl,” he murmured, his tone dripping with praise, his touch steady and relentless. “Just a little longer.”

Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable as he teased you with maddening precision. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold on, but you trusted him and surrendered completely to the intoxicating rhythm he set.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take another second, just when you were about to beg again, his fingers slowed, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft that it left you breathless.

“Now,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and rough, his fingers pressing just right. “Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The world blurred as his words shattered the last of your restraint, your body unraveling beneath him in a rush of heat and pleasure so intense it left you gasping. Logan held you through it, his hand never faltering, his lips peppering soft kisses across your skin as you rode out every wave, your body trembling in his arms.

When the storm finally began to subside, you melted into him, boneless and dazed, your breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. Logan’s hands moved gently now, smoothing over your thighs and waist as though grounding you, his touch still laced with reverence and care.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he murmured with a satisfied grin, his lips brushing your temple.

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers sliding into his hair as you pulled him into a slow, lingering kiss. “You’re so full of yourself,” you teased, your voice soft and playful despite your exhaustion.

Logan smirked, his hands tightening gently on your hips as he leaned down to murmur against your lips, “Can you blame me, sweetheart? You look at me like I’m the only thing that matters.”

[wernher-von-brawny]

First, yeah, the DNC have spent the last few decades chasing after people who will never like them, while taking for granted or outright abandoning the folks who need them.

It’s hard to argue against the perception that the Democrats exist to prevent progressive energy from disrupting business as usual.

So I get your rage, my comrade, but I think you’re missing the point of what the dude in the quote was saying.

He’s saying he trusted that Trump was speaking his mind, and that Harris seemed to be reading from a script.

He didn’t say that he thought Trump was speaking 'The Truth', or that he agreed with his policies, but that he believed that Trump’s words and ideas were his, and not those of a committee of marketing creeps.

I think what’s most instructive about that article is another quote: “Democrats, another said, are 'not a friend of the working class anymore.'”

I have to agree with that.

Biden walked a picket line, but it turns out he’s not gonna follow through fully on student loan forgiveness.

Pelosi got her congressional chorus to cosplay and take the knee for George Floyd, but what meaningful police reform have they championed since that photo op?

Obama was elected on 'Hope and Change', and then put Geitner and Summers in charge of fixing a problem that they themselves created during the Clinton admin, and their solution was to bail out their friends and let the defrauded masses fall into bankruptcy and foreclosure.

Yeah, “Thanks, Obama” was a racist ( -ish ) dog whistle, but it lingered a bit because it kinda had a point.

And do I even need to detail how the DNC fucked us out of President Bernie Sanders — TWICE!?

So of course a candidate who speaks nothing but DNC talking points is gonna trigger folks 'stranger danger'.

I spent most of my life as a knee-jerk, 'don’t think just vote' Chicago Democrat, until I finally saw that the DNC didn’t actually mean what it said, or follow up on promises made to the 99%.

And if a former party loyalist like me can come to this conclusion, then there are probably a lot of other folks who’ve noticed it as well.

So many of us have lost faith in politics to solve our problems, and a lot of folks — at least enough to sway this last election — have decided that throwing a wrench in the works is the only way they can express any influence over this broken system.

Trump is that monkey wrench. When he promises to smash the system, people believe him. Conservatives believe him. Liberals believe him. Progressives believe him. The rich believe him. The poor believe him.

And Glob help us, in The Year of Our Lord ( Mammon ) 2024, that passes for integrity.

It reminds me of the sound bite that old Slick Willy Clinton his-self gave the media when he threw Al Gore under the bus during the 2000 election ( something he also kinda did to Harris in Detroit this time around; Clinton really doesn’t like V.P.s, does he? ): “People will choose a strong leader who is wrong over a weak leader who is right.”

Harris didn’t convince the dude in the quote that she was speaking with the courage of her “joyful warrior” convictions, and I think that’s a fair point. I don’t think she was either.

I felt she came off very Vice-Presidential, very safe and corporate and triangulating. And in this time of spiraling crises, her safe and corporate and triangulating approach didn’t inspire the nation as much as Trump’s bold, disruptive, batshit-crazy promise to tear down the pig system.

I see the appeal: “You and I are fucked no matter what, but maybe Trump can take down some of piggies at the top.” I don’t believe this strategy will work out in our favor, but I grok spite.

Shit, man, “…from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee” may as well have been Trump’s campaign slogan.

Anyways, I’m well past my 500 allotted words here, so I’ll wrap this up by saying that if the Democrat wing of the neoliberal party wants to win elections post-Trump, they need to sell authenticity as well as Clinton or Obama — or Trump — did.

Personally, I think Pete Buttigieg has that vibe, but we shall see.

“An Arizona man, citing the time Harris said, “you better thank a union member,” during a speech in Detroit, said “that was very disingenuous to me because I didn’t see an honest person that could be president.” “It seemed like a lot of what she came out and said wasn’t really off-the-cuff, wasn’t coming from her,” said another man who voted for Biden in 2020 and Trump in 2024. “Seemed like every interview, every time she came out and talked about something, it was planned out and never her thoughts, didn’t seem genuine to her thoughts, whereas, Trump, even though you never really knew what he was going to say, when he was going to say it, it was always him and genuine to what he thought, so that’s what swayed me.””

—

New research shows the massive hole Dems are in

I mean … I don’t know how anyone worth electing is going to reach someone like this guy who basically says he’d rather vote for someone who rambles incoherently, with a clear track record of violence and corruption, because he didn’t like the way the scary Black lady talked.

Why is this guy even in this article? This guy is a lost cause. This guy is not the Democrats’ fault. This guy is a stupid fucking idiot who shouldn’t be allowed to be alone in any room with a sharp object.

And this is the guy the Democrats are going to throw the trans community under the bus for, the guy who says he didn’t like how prepared and articulate Kamala Harris was when she expressed her positions, when what we all know is that he didn’t like that she was a Black woman.

THAT is the real disgrace and failure of the party: chasing this guy at the expense of ten people who want to vote for them, because they listen to dipshit consultants who have lost all but two consequential elections for the last twenty years.

[autisticmudkip]

Thank you for helping Hashem @hashembadr reach his short term goal! He is now able to buy another tent for his large extended family to shelter in the winter. To everyone who helped, whether by donating, making posts, or sharing, thank you for your assistance. However, Hashem and his family still need your support!

Hashem's young niece, Suham, is suffering from a lasting injury, which requires costly surgery to heal from properly. About a year ago, near the beginning of the war, Suham's arm was seriously injured. Due to relentless bombardment, displacement, and scarcity of medical supplies, Suham was not able to get the treatment that she needed as her arm was healing. Because of this, her bone welded incorrectly.

Suham needs surgery to correct the bone in her arm. The doctor advised that she get it soon, so her injury does not worsen or become harder to fix. However, the surgery is very expensive, costing around $4,700. Combined with the 30% transfer fees to withdraw the money, Hashem and his family need to raise another $6,110 (or £4,864) for Suham to recieve this vital surgery.

Suham is only a child. She has spent the last year injured, living through displacement, fear, and pain. Please, help her get the surgery she needs to heal her arm. Share and donate, anything you can give makes a difference.

Vetted #102 by @/gazavetters

@a-shade-of-blue @meowmaids @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense @turtletoria @heritageposts

@neptunerings @appsa @finalgirlabigailhobbs @churlingtonbeesecoatfactory @stale-bagel 

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@ehjane @irhabiya @specialmouse @amorosebeing

@murenaaaaa @thesblu @batricity @zeia-reblog-blog @hojoslutoru

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER SIX

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur thelightknight21 wc: 18.3k notes: masterlist (sorry, nothing funny today, this chapter and last nights game actually destroyed me) but holy word count who cooked here 😹 i fear the last half of this chap is kinda rushed but writer's block was going crazy and i truthfully only had plans for like THREE (3) specific scenes...if you can't tell, planning, pacing, and the timeline are my biggest opps 😾 but i'm grown so i do what i want!! also, smut warning! if it's not your thing, it's at the very end and you can skip over it without missing anything super important. i'm not a smut writer, i just work here, but i put pen to paper and it just came out (no pun intended) 🤷‍♀️ sorry for making this as long as the chapter itself, but as always, lmk what you think and i hope you enjoy 🫶

‘The Hard Launch Heard Around the World’

For college basketball fans, Christmas has come early this year. On June 21st, Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy’s long-awaited hard launch was finally shared to Instagram after a month and a half of speculation, fan theories, and less than subtle interactions online. Kennedy shared a collection of pictures with the caption “here’s to tess kennedy’s worst kept secret. thank you for coming into my life when you did.” Many of the comments consisted of undecipherable keyboard smashes, such as one commenter’s “TESS AND PAIGE? AJSFKFJKDSJK”, but overall, Kennedy’s comment section was full of congratulations, support, and praise.

Bueckers, similarly, shared a collection of photos, although her caption was a lyric from Frank Ocean’s “Sierra Leone.” If you have been following Kennedy’s journey thus far, you may remember that the first ever soft-launch photo she posted to her story included another lyric from this song. Bueckers’s caption, reading “And her pink skies will keep me warm,” is seen as a call-back to that moment, with many fans accepting this as the confirmation that Bueckers and Kennedy have been seeing each other all along.

Their hard-launch precedes their Bose endorsement. The two of them starred in a commercial showcasing Bose’s newest product, where they became known as Mrs. and Mrs. Bose. Some critics noted how specific the timing was, arguing that their hard-launch was just a stunt to further promotion for Bose’s product, although supporters rallied in defense. Commenters noted that Bueckers and Kennedy spent most of their time this offseason in different states – this Bose ad was the first time they were able to be in person together, so they surmised that it was just the optimal time to announce it. Another fan also pointed out that their history speaks for itself.

Regardless of the timing, one thing is for certain – Bueckers and Kennedy are the next “it” couple. Their influence is beginning to spread outside of the sports world, and many people believe that their openness is going to be pivotal in breaking barriers and promoting acceptance for queer athletes. 

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

JULY 2023

The months after their hard-launch go about as well as anyone could have expected. Once Tess and Paige made it back to Brooklyn and Minnesota respectively, things were…nice. They finished June out strong, in near constant contact and on FaceTime. Tess kept her feelings close to her chest. She knew there was no way Paige was into her in that way. She wasn’t the type to be tied down, and Tess had to respect that – even if she was one for commitment, Tess doesn’t think that she’d be her first choice.

All she can think about is their agreement. Paige had so confidently said that she could do casual. She wasn’t the one who caught feelings. And as far as Tess is concerned, she isn’t sure if her reputation is worth how complicated her life has become. She’s not the one to pretend to be someone she’s not; not the one to pretend to feel a way (or not feel a way about something). Her relationship with Paige used to be something that brought her great comfort, but now she can’t help but feel like she’s ruined something perfectly fine by allowing her feelings to get the best of her. Now, she’s not telling a story to the public or selling a ruse. Bree was right – she is lying to Paige, and that’s the worst part of it all. Paige doesn’t deserve her dishonesty, nor her inability to keep things strictly business as she’d once promised.

So, June was okay. They talked, Tess spiraled, but this is her life now. Tess would eventually have to learn to keep her feelings at bay.

Then July hit.

July was like a blessing in disguise, the perfect opportunity for Tess to work on herself and hopefully get rid of her lingering feelings for Paige. She could get over her. It’s not a big deal. So what if Paige was the first person she’d ever felt romantically for? Tess is new to all of this – she can’t honestly know perfectly what liking someone felt like. The denial wasn’t particularly effective, but if Tess keeps speaking it into existence, then it has to come true, right?

July was when summer practices started back up. Paige flew back to Storrs the first week. Tess was supposed to fly back to Columbia, but given her injury and the fact she wouldn’t be able to contribute much to practices, Coach Staley gave her the all-clear to stay in Brooklyn and soak up as much PT with Terri as she could. Craig was qualified, although the both of them knew Terri had a different approach to rehab than Craig did. 

Paige gets busy almost immediately. She’s fresh off an injury and her role on the team has shifted due to other’s injuries, so she’s swept up into an incredible amount of extra practice, film watching, and learning a different part of the game. Tess gets…the complete opposite of busy. She still does PT three times a week, meets with Yvette, but with Paige gone, all of her free time becomes free again, and she doesn't even know what to do with herself. Fortnite, as stupid as it sounds, makes her think of Paige. Her feelings are still too fresh and the mere thought of the game reminds her of the countless hours she and Paige wasted away on it, laughing, flirting, and celebrating their wins. It’s not a break-up, but it feels oddly like one. Tess used to be stronger than this. That was the worst part.

With Paige’s time being occupied by things out of her control, Tess uses it to her advantage. She tries to get over her, spaces out her responses when Paige does get the time to speak. With her knee in better shape, she tries out yoga. Tess can’t quite master the idea of clearing her mind. Paige’s name echoes like a mantra in her brain, the image of her blue eyes blinding. No matter how hard she tries, all Tess can think about is the pressure of Paige’s lips on hers, the way she’d guided her jaw just how she liked, the weight of her hand on her and the way she was able to feel exactly how she made Tess’s heart race.

She’s so fucked.

It hurts, Tess has to admit. Covering up lies with even more lies. She’s not completely sure what happened to turn her into someone who couldn’t tell the truth. It hurts even more to know that she’s not just hurting herself, but she’s hurting Paige, too, who’s not even at fault for any of this.

Hey I got a couple hours free tonight Facetime? I miss you

[Delivered: 4:32pm]

Are you okay?

[Read: 7:53pm]

sorry, busy tn idk if i can

It’s cool Do you know when you’ll be free?

idk got a lot going on

Okay Call me when you can

[Delivered: 7:54pm]

Tess feels like she’s going to throw up.

AUGUST 2023

Paige doesn’t give up, but Tess can tell she’s losing patience and hope.

She gets a two week break after the end of summer practices, then she and her teammates are heading overseas for their Europe tour. They’re playing a couple of exhibition games. Back in June, Paige had been so excited to send her pictures and tell her all about it, but they’re a day into their trip and she hasn’t heard a word from Paige. It’s for the best. Paige needs to lock in for her games. She can’t get caught up in Tess again.

Tess ends up tuning in for one game. She can’t help herself, even though she ends up turning it off after halftime. There’s a noticeable difference in the way Paige is playing. Tess knows it’s because of her. She’s a little more sluggish, sloppy in her passes, missing a lot more than she usually did. Bueckers, first exhibition game since her ACL injury, the commentator noted. She’s not quite warm yet, but we all know she’ll be on fire once the season starts. Tess knows better than that. It’s her fault.

Still, Paige tries.

You busy?

[Delivered, 5:43pm]

Zagreb is beautiful [3 Attachments] Text me when you can

[Delivered: 6:38pm]

[Read: 9:01pm]

sorry. just got free

It’s okay FT? Can’t sleep

i can’t, have to be up early tomorrow you should get some rest. it’s late

I don’t care I miss you I feel like we never talk anymore Did I do something? Whatever it is I’ll fix it I promise

you didn’t do anything just got a lot going on

Me too

[Read: 9:03pm]

Okay cool 😂 Let me know when you’re not too busy for me Goodnight Tess

[Read: 9:04pm]

SEPTEMBER 2023

July and August were busts – no matter what she did, she wasn’t able to keep her mind off of Paige. Distancing herself wasn’t very effective, but she shouldn’t expect results after two months, right? Maybe she just needed a little more time.

Paige texts her once in September.

I just wanted to say I’m sorry for whatever I did. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or if there was something I said that hurt you. I meant it when I said you didn’t have to be scared with me. I still mean it. If there’s anything at all I can do or say to make you believe that, please let me know. I don’t like arguing or how we left things and I hate feeling like I’m not fighting hard enough for you. I shouldn’t expect you to drop everything to talk to me. You’re busy and you have a lot going on. Saying what I said was unfair. I’m sorry. But I miss you. Please let me know how I can fix us. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll fly out if I have to, just please don’t shut me out

[Delivered: 2:48am]

OCTOBER 2023

Paige gives up in October. It brings Tess more anguish than she was accounting for.

On the 20th, Tess texts her happy birthday. Paige doesn’t bother reading it. Paige doesn’t post anything for her birthday, either.

Tess wonders if she fucked them up for good.

Maybe it’s better this way.

NOVEMBER 2023

Ghosting Paige wasn’t the right decision at all.

A little obvious in hindsight, but at least Tess can say she tried. Five months apart didn’t magically fix Tess’s problem. It made it worse. She still feels the same for Paige, if not stronger, but affection becomes a difficult pill to swallow when it’s poisoned with guilt and shame. After her injury, she should have learned that pushing people away does more harm than good. Paige didn’t deserve that, but maybe this is who Tess Kennedy is – someone who’s blind to what’s in front of her, someone who leaves when it gets hard, someone who avoids her problems entirely, someone who treats the people she loves like disposable objects. Maybe it was better for Paige to find that out early on before their contract expired and Paige wanted to continue being her friend.

On the 17th, Tess’s birthday, she gets a lifeline.

Happy birthday

Paige’s text is like a knife to the gut. Tess twists the blade herself when she notes the lack of excitement, the lack of emojis. Her message is bland, more like an afterthought, and Tess can’t even be mad – she deserves it. She debates leaving it on delivered, much like Paige had left her message on delivered, if only to spare her from this constant back and forth cycle of will-they won’t-they. But her fingers move faster than her brain does.

thank you

[Delivered: 11:11am]

[Read: 11:11am]

And much to her surprise, Paige responds.

My mom wants to know if you’re still coming for Thanksgiving She bought you an ugly sweater to wear for family photos

There’s a lot of things Tess can say to that. Family photos is enough to make her chest tighten, her stomach roil with anxiety, her throat constrict. It takes everything in her to not break out into sobs, but she bites her lip hard enough to draw blood as she types out her message.

you want me there after these last five months?

Tess doesn’t think that was the right thing to say. Paige types for a long while.

I want what’s best for the story My parents think we’re together We need to keep up appearances

Tess would have preferred it if Paige just left her on read. Delivered. She would have understood if Paige just blocked her all together. She would have preferred if Paige had texted her at any other day, because it’s her birthday, damn it; she’s turning 22 and she’s sitting in her bed crying because this is all she and Paige are, anymore – a story, an appearance to keep up for the sake of their images. But it’s her fault, isn’t it?

i’ll be there

Okay 👍

Tess thinks that’s the end of their conversation until she gets an email. It’s an airline ticket, a roundtrip – she’d be flying out the 22nd and leaving Minnesota early on the 25th. They’re first class. Tess feels like she could throw up again.

you didn’t have to buy my tickets

I promised I would I don’t like breaking my promises

Tess has no retort for that. She sends Paige a half-hearted thank you, not expecting a response, and powers off her phone.

NOVEMBER 22, 2023

Tess spends the entire plane ride nauseous as hell. She dreads her reunion with Paige, knowing that seeing each other will only hurt them more. She’s not even sure if fixing them is possible, but she knows she’ll have to give it a shot. She gets four days with Paige. That should be enough to smooth things over. A part of her knows Paige won’t bend as easily as Kamilla, Bree, and her parents did. Paige was so understanding, but she didn’t take any of Tess’s bullshit. Tess might be making amends until Christmas, if they last that long.

She finishes off the rest of the ginger ale she’d asked the flight attendant for. It does little to soothe the nausea. Guilt usually isn’t something that can be cured with a drink, alcoholic or otherwise. Guilt is one of the things you can’t run away from, even for someone as good at running away as Tess is.

The seatbelt light flicks on as the plane begins its descent onto the Minnesotan soil. Tess’s anxiety returns tenfold. It feels as though time is moving slowly. The plane lands. It idles for a moment, then everyone is standing and reaching for their carry-on. Tess has hers in hand and is walking down the aisle as soon as they click open. It doesn’t take her long to locate her suitcase at baggage claim. Then, she’s back in the crowd, eyes scanning the airport for any sign of Paige. There wasn’t a message on her phone, but she was holding out a little bit of hope.

Instead of Paige, she spots a tall man holding a sign with her name written on it. Tess’s heart all but falls out of her ass as she walks towards him. The realization that Paige didn’t come to pick her up shouldn’t hurt her as much as it does. She should have expected as much. But seeing it brings on a fresh wave of pain that she just wasn’t ready for. The man recognizes her, lowering the sign with a beaming smile, and he reaches out for a hearty handshake. “Hey Tess! I’m Bob, Paige’s dad. It’s so good to finally meet you.”

Tess shakes his hand, smiling at him, and hoping that it’s convincing enough. “Likewise, Mr. Bueckers,” she says. Her voice doesn’t falter, but she can tell she’s about to crash out. She takes a deep breath as Paige’s dad waves his hand.

“Bob is fine,” he corrects her. “C’mon – my truck’s this way. Paige went out to pick up some last minute things for you. She should be back at the house by the time we get there.”

Tess hides her grimace. She’s not fully confident that Paige actually did that, but she’s not going to voice that thought to her dad. The simplest truth of the matter is that Paige just didn’t want to pick her up. Tess can’t blame her.

Once they’re loaded up, Bob makes small talk that Tess tries her best to contribute to. He doesn’t seem to think anything’s wrong, so Tess surmises she must be doing a pretty good job. As he speaks, her mind keeps drifting back to Paige, feeling a guilt and shame so strong that she’s unsure if she’ll be able to feel anything remotely positive ever again. How do you hurt Paige Bueckers? Her heart is made of solid gold, but perhaps the issue is her heart is a few sizes too big for her body. Her heart is bigger than Tess herself; Paige gave her everything, no strings attached, and Tess crushed it into small pieces and stomped it out.

That thought alone makes her nauseous all over again. She was so worried that Paige would hurt her, not the other way around. Life has a funny way of biting you in the ass. Tess wonders how socially acceptable it would be to jump out of your fake girlfriend’s dad’s moving vehicle and leave yourself for roadkill. She determines that it’s probably not very acceptable, so she tries her best to get her shit together while she still can.

The Bueckers’ live in a quaint little townhouse, two-storied and a light beige in color. Bob pulls into the driveway next to two SUV Jeeps – one black and one red. He grins at her, nudging her shoulder. “Paige’s home. You excited?”

Tess almost laughs in disbelief. “Yeah,” she lies. “Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Well, let’s not keep her waiting.”

Tess will admit she sounds like a broken record, but she genuinely thinks she’s about to throw up all over the Bueckers’ driveway. She adjusts her backpack over her shoulder and pulls her suitcase out of Bob’s truck bed, glances at the door, and takes a deep breath as she follows the older man inside.

Inside, it’s warm and cozy. Tess can distinctly make out the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg. Bob calls out for his wife, who calls back with a cheerful, “In the kitchen!” Paige’s step mom is a tall woman, wearing a festive pair of leggings and an apron over her shirt. She slides off her oven mitts, having just pulled out a pie.

“This is Tess,” Bob states. “Tess, this is my wife, Moe.”

In lieu of a handshake, Moe pulls her in for a gentle hug. “So nice to finally meet you,” she says genuinely. “Paige talks about you all the time.”

Tess’s heart falls out of her ass and she chuckles worriedly, giving the older woman a squeeze. “Good things, I hope.”

“Nothing but,” Moe confirms. “It’s like y’all been together forever. Tess this, Tess that. It’s kind of sickening.”

At Moe’s brutal honesty, Tess laughs, the first genuine one in almost five months. It wasn’t even that funny, but Tess is so far off the deep end that anything helps. “My mom would say the same about me,” she says.

Moe lights up with laughter of her own, grinning widely at Tess. “Alright, I’m sure you’re tired from your trip here. Paige is upstairs. She can help you get settled in. We don’t have a guest room, so you’ll have to bunk with her. No funny business, okay?”

Tess smiles to hide the way her heart stops. She’s shared a room with Paige before. Granted, they had two separate beds, but the room sharing is not an issue. The issue is in how Paige will probably suffocate her with a pillow once night falls. “No funny business,” she agrees, and with one last smile, Moe directs her to the stairs and informs her that Paige’s room is the first on the left.

Tess takes a deep breath before she heads upstairs. She’s been through worse. She tore her ACL, underwent surgery, and crashed out so bad she almost killed herself. She doesn’t bother reminding herself she’s been crashing out for the past five months and she’s in no better shape, but that’s not the point. She can handle Paige. She can say she’s sorry. She knocks on Paige’s door and she hears some shuffling inside before the door opens, and after five months, she comes face to face with Paige once more.

The shift in Paige’s demeanor is noticeably different. Her jaw is tight, her blue eyes unusually dull. Even her body language is far more reserved. She leans against the doorframe, one hand on the doorknob, and her mouth pulls into a natural frown. “Hey,” she says, surprising Tess. Her words lack any bite, but it hurts because her words lack much of anything. If the both of them were five months younger, Tess is sure that Paige would have pulled her into a hug by now, probably whispered an excited, “Hey, ma,” or pressed an affectionate, “Missed you,” into her shoulder.

But they’re five months too late, and all Tess can do is wince as she responds with a quiet, “Hi.”

Paige glances at her, her eyes dismissive and disappointed. She sighs, taking a step back and allowing Tess inside. “You can just leave your stuff over there,” she says, pointing next to her desk where a space has been cleared. Tess does as she instructs, depositing her suitcase and throwing her backpack haphazardly on top. Wordlessly, Paige crawls back into bed, sitting so close to the edge that there’s more bed than girl, which is usually a difficult task for a six foot athlete.

“Is this what we’re doing?” Tess asks softly, her fingers shaking, and she knows she has no business asking Paige that when she was the one who fucked them up.

Paige scoffs, looking up at her again. Her gaze hardens, her lip curling into an unfamiliar scowl. “You had five months to figure that out,” she says harshly. “Don’t ask me shit now.”

Tess laughs weakly, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Okay,” she concedes.

“Something funny?” Paige asks.

Tess averts her eyes. “...No,” she says after a beat. Paige hums, an annoyed noise deep in the back of her throat.

Tess isn’t sure what to do. She’s standing in the middle of Paige’s childhood bedroom, feeling like every bit the fool she undoubtedly looks like. She can’t sit next to Paige, not when she can feel the anger radiating off her in quiet waves. She can’t go back downstairs with Drew and Paige’s parents. They’d ask why they weren’t together, and Tess isn’t sure how much more lying she can take. Paige glances back up from her phone, scanning Tess’s features, and she stands with a huff. “You take the bed,” she says. “I’m gonna get stuff to sleep on the floor.”

“You don’t–”

“Stop,” Paige says instantly, her voice breaking. Tess shuts her mouth, staring at Paige, and she looks agonized. Her eyes are glassy, face pinched, and Tess feels like a jackass all over again. “Just…stop, okay? Stop arguing. I’m gonna get a blanket and the air mattress and I’m gonna sleep on the fuckin’ floor ‘cause I can’t share a bed with you tonight and pretend like everything’s okay. It’ll probably be another five months before I get an apology from you, but that’s okay, right?” She laughs humorlessly, turning on her heel, walking backwards to the door. “S’okay. I guess I was stupid to think anything else. I was right. Tess Kennedy’s too fuckin’ afraid to get close, and when she’s scared, she goes back to what she’s used to. And apparently that’s bein’ an asshole to everyone around her. You don’t get to do that shit with me. Not today.”

Paige slams the door behind her, and all Tess can do is stare at where she stood in disbelief.

Dinner that night is a torrid affair.

Bob and Moe seem to sense that something’s off with Tess and Paige. Out of politeness, they don’t mention anything, but Drew seems none the wiser to the tension at the table. He rambles excitedly about Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow and how excited he is for Christmas. Tess tries to listen to him, she truly does, but she can’t focus on anything but the argument that she and Paige had. Honestly, a better descriptor is just Paige yelling at her and Tess taking it, but that’s neither here nor there.

Tess barely has an appetite, but she shovels her food in her mouth anyways, not wanting to be rude. Paige hasn’t said a single word to her since Moe came upstairs to fetch them for dinner. Even then, Paige hadn’t so much as looked at her. The worst part about it is that Tess understands why. Paige is genuinely a better person than she is. If someone treated her like Tess treated her, Tess would have made it everyone else’s problem immediately. If they thought her post-injury crash out was bad, then they’d be unprepared for the post-ghost crash out.

Bob distracts her from her racing thoughts as he clears her throat. “So, Tess…” She looks up, resembling a deer caught in headlights. “How’s physical therapy going? I saw you rehabbed with a WNBA team. That’s really exciting!”

“Oh,” she says, pushing around a piece of chicken on her plate. “Um, it was really good. Felt like I progressed a lot with Terri. I work with the team trainer now since I’m back in Columbia. He gets the job done, but I do miss the Liberty, you know?” She chuckles softy, willing her nerves to dissipate.

“I bet,” Bob agrees. “When do you get to play again?”

“I should be cleared by March,” she says hopefully. “Just in time for the last March Madness games. Provided we get invited or win the SEC championship. LSU is really strong, so…gotta take it game by game.”

“Smart,” Moe states. “Never count your eggs before they hatch, right?”

Tess nods. The table falls into a tense silence, only the sound of forks scraping against plates filling the room. Paige suddenly huffs. She stands up with her plate, her chair making an awful noise against the floor as she pushes it back under the table. “I needa take a shower,” she says, not waiting for a response. She walks into the kitchen to clear off her plate, walking back through the dining room with a frustrated expression on her face as she rushes upstairs.

Bob and Moe share a concerned glance. It’s Drew who breaks the silence when he asks, “What crawled up her butt and died?” Moe is quick to reprimand him, although it seems like her heart’s not really in it.

Tess clears her throat and stands, too. “Um, dinner was delicious, Moe, thank you. I should uh…probably go check on her.” Moe thanks her quietly. Tess washes her plate quickly, placing it in the strainer to dry off, and she heads upstairs after Paige.

Paige’s door is wide open and Tess walks in cautiously. The blonde rifles through her drawers, pulling a pair of shorts and a tank top out. She’s still pissed. Never in the seven months that Tess has known her has she ever seen Paige be this angry. When Paige turns, seeing Tess behind her, she clenches her jaw and walks out wordlessly. Tess feels her heart drop as she listens to the bathroom door close.

Her chest tightens. She feels like she could cry even though it would do nothing for her. Paige is the only one with the right to be upset. Instead, Tess takes a deep breath, burying her face in her hands for a few, calming moments before she moves to her suitcase and pulls out sleepwear. She scrolls on her phone while she waits for Paige to get out of the shower, and when she finally does, Tess averts her eyes as she stands. Paige doesn’t say anything to her as Tess makes her way into the bathroom.

The water is scalding hot. It makes Tess feel a little more centered, but it does little to wash away the grief and the shame. She tries not to think about it as she cleans herself quickly. She dries off, redresses herself, and when she walks back into Paige’s room, she’s already curled up on the air mattress and is scrolling through her phone. Tess glances at her, frowning, and shoves her dirty laundry into a separate compartment in her suitcase before sliding into Paige’s bed.

Her pillow smells like her. Tess wouldn’t expect anything else, but it makes her feel closer to Paige despite the literal and metaphorical distance between them. Her purple comforter is soft. When Tess looks around, she notes the various posters of NBA greats – Kyrie, Lebron. Diana Taurasi and Sue Bird are also there. Basketball is Paige’s life, her entire reason for breathing. When they lost to South Carolina in the NCAA tournament, Paige was distraught, obviously. But that anger and sadness only pales to what Tess observes in her now as she tries to pretend she can’t hear the way Tess breathes next to her.

Tess takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling. “Paige,” she says into the darkness of the room.

Paige doesn’t respond. For a brief moment, Tess wonders if she fell asleep, but she knows better. Paige is breathing too fast to be asleep, coming in uneven bursts. Then, Tess thinks she’s just ignoring her. Then, Paige surprises her. “What do you want, Tess?” she asks, her voice breaking.

“I’m sorry,” Tess says without hesitation.

She hears Paige laugh, but there’s no enjoyment in it. “Are you?”

“I am,” she says. They’re both quiet for a moment. She hears Paige sniffle and her heart breaks all over again. “I mean it. I’m sorry, Paige, I’m so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I shouldn’t have pushed you away when all you’ve done was care for me. I’m sorry for making you apologize when you’ve done nothing wrong. This is all on me and I could sit here and apologize for the rest of my life and it would never be enough.”

Paige shifts on the air mattress. Tess cocks her head, glancing down, and Paige is already staring at her. The moonlight streaming through her windows reflects off of her. Tess could paint her face by memory. She knows exactly what she looks like, where every single freckle or blemish or crease exists. She knows the exact shade of her eyes, the degree at which her nose upturns slightly, the way her nostrils flare when she’s annoyed. Tess could describe Paige Bueckers in such great detail that a blind person could recreate her visage. Until now, Tess has never seen Paige this way. Her lips are pulled in a constant frown, her jaw tight, her eyes a few shades grayer. Tess never wants to see Paige look this desolate, let alone because of her.

“Sorry doesn’t fix anything,” Paige says after a few agonizing moments. Tess deflates. “Sorry doesn’t fix the five months I spent losin’ my mind, wondering what I did wrong.” She studies Tess’s face once more, her lips pursing and her gaze hardening. Paige pulls her blanket up to her chin, flipping on her opposite side, putting her back to Tess.

“How do I fix us?” Tess asks, her voice nearly a broken whisper.

Paige lies unmoving on the air mattress. Tess should know better than to expect a response. But when Paige admits, “I don’t know,” Tess thinks she would have preferred the silence.

NOVEMBER 23, 2023

Thanksgiving is a terrible holiday.

Conceptually and historically, it leaves a lot to be desired, though she can understand how many American families would enjoy getting together in one place, eating a huge dinner, and watching sports. It’s supposed to be a day where everyone can come together and rejoice, tell each other what they’re thankful for and all that sappy shit, but Tess never bought into it. Many of her teammates would complain about going home for Thanksgiving and having to listen to an uncle or two rant about women or politics or whatever the fuck – it always ruined the mood. Tess never thought that those uncomfortable Thanksgivings would be something she had to be subjected to.

When she wakes up in the morning, Paige isn’t in her room. When she goes to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and do her morning routine, Paige isn’t there, either. And when Tess walks downstairs into a flurry of early morning chaos – Moe and Bob rushing around the kitchen and preparing dinner, Drew tidying up the living room – Paige isn’t there either.

“Morning, Tess!” Bob greets happily, grinning at her from where he’s cheffing up the turkey. She returns his greeting, though it’s a little half-hearted. “Paige went for a run. She should be back soon.”

“You guys need a hand?” she asks instead, wanting to be useful. Moe and Bob have welcomed her into their home. The last thing she wants to do is be an ungrateful guest, especially when their daughter hates her guts. Tess is going to make an honest effort to get back into Paige’s good graces. Even if she never forgives her, she’s going to make it up to her. That much she could promise.

“If you could help Drew clean the living room, that’d be great,” Moe says. “There’s too many people in the kitchen right now.” She shoots Bob a knowing glance and he laughs, raising his hands defensively.

Tess smirks wryly and makes her way into the living room where Drew is dutifully dusting off the coffee table. He wastes no time before he puts her to work, directing her to the vacuum cleaner (Tess just gets the impression he didn’t want to vacuum), and together, they get the living room all cleaned up for the guests. They tackle the dining room next. Drew and Tess return to the living room once they finish, sitting on the count and awaiting Moe’s next instructions. Soon, Paige returns from her run – Tess knows she no longer has the right, but she can’t help but look at Paige as she walks in. She’s dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top. It’s unfair how pretty she is, shiny with sweat and flushed. Tess has to avert her eyes. Paige only greets her parents before rushing upstairs. Tess hears the shower click on.

“What’s wrong with you and Paigey?” Drew whispers to her.

Tess glances at him, a somber smile on her face. “I messed up and hurt her feelings,” she tells him honestly. “She’s pretty upset with me.”

Drew looks at her curiously. “Why’d you do that?”

His blunt question makes Tess chuckle. That’s a question she’s been asking herself, too. “I like her a lot,” she admits, the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. It feels like a weight is lifted off her shoulders, though she’s still crushed under everything else. “I like her a lot and it makes me do stupid stuff.”

“Mom says you should never hurt the people you love,” Drew says smartly.

“She’s right.”

“Did you say sorry? And did you bring her a cookie? Cookies always help.”

“Do they?”

Drew nods, humming as he turns on the TV. He scrolls through the channels until he settles on some cartoon Tess has never heard of. “Paigey likes cookies,” he states. “Chocolate chip ones. They’re her favorites. She always says you can’t be sad when you’re eating a cookie.”

At that, Tess can’t help but laugh. “That does sound like something she’d say,” she concedes. The taps on the armrest of the couch mindlessly, thinking. She turns to Drew. “Do you think your mom would let us bake her some? Right now?”

Drew turns off the TV without another word, standing as he calls, “Mom!” Tess stands to follow him, sighing. She did not expect him to move so fast. The kitchen is much cleaner than it was earlier – Bob went outside to put the turkey on the smoker and Moe remained, preparing the roux for the mac and cheese. Moe hums as Drew walks in. “Can me and Tess bake some cookies right now?” Moe looks as though she’s about to protest, but Drew beats her to the chase. “For Paigey. She’s sad.”

Moe softens, looking over at Tess, who flushes under her stare. She hopes her face looks as apologetic as she feels. Moe sighs. “Yes, make it quick. I’ll need the oven soon.”

Drew pumps his fist in the air as he rifles through the cabinets, looking for the ingredients. Tess lets him take the lead on most of that as she leans against the counter. She feels Moe’s eyes on her again, and she turns her head, meeting her gaze. “Everything okay?” Moe asks knowingly, her voice quiet.

Tess smiles sadly. “I hope they will be,” she says. Moe raises a brow, clearly expecting more, and Tess swallows. “She’s not happy with me. I hurt her, and honestly, I’d be pissed at me, too.” She picks a loose thread on her shirt. “I’m gonna make it up to her. I just…” Tess sighs. “She’s my first…girlfriend. My first anything, really – I don’t know what I’m doing. But she makes me want to try and that’s scary. I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.”

Moe is silent for a moment, thinking about her next words. “You’re beating yourself up pretty bad,” she notes. Tess almost laughs because she truly has no idea. “I’m not gonna lecture you. But, you know, Paige is my kid. No matter how old she is. She has so much love to give. Don’t take advantage of that. One day, she’s not going to wait around.”

Tess nods. “I know,” she says. She opens her mouth, trying to find more to say, but her words fail her. Moe gives her another knowing look, her lips curling into a smile. Drew returns with flour, sugar, and all of the other supplies and he and Tess immediately get to work. He’s a little messy with the flour and definitely steals most of the chocolate chips, but he’s a joy to spend time with. Drew reminds Tess so much of Paige – that thought alone makes her queasy again. She has to tell herself that they’ll be okay. Delusion and manifestation are a thin line, right? Paige isn’t the kind of girl to hold onto grudges, even if she should.

Once the cookies are out of the oven, Drew helps her select the best looking ones to take to Paige. He salutes her like she’s going off to war and Tess can’t help but laugh at him, feeling strangely like she is about to walk across a field of landmines. She takes a deep, stabilizing breath before she walks up the stairs, plate of cookies in hand. She knocks on Paige’s door and opens it as soon as she hears Paige call out, “Come in!”

Paige is reclining on her bed, phone in hand and freshly showered. She looks up as Tess walks in with a meek smile, holding out the plate. “Are those…?”

Tess exhales deeply, taking Paige’s curiosity as a sign to move closer. “Yeah. Me and Drew made them. He said you can’t be sad when you’re eating a cookie.” That’s enough to make Paige crack the slightest of smiles. Tess gives her the plate, explaining, “They’re fresh out, so–” but Paige is already reaching for the one on top, dropping it with a yelp of pain. They stare at each other as Paige sucks on her finger before they break out into laughter. It’s slightly awkward, but it’s relieving, and the situation isn’t funny at all but everything has sucked for five months so it’s all just stupid. “Sorry. I promise I’m not trying to kill you.”

Paige chuckles again, resting the plate on her lap and letting the cookies cool off. She shuts off her phone, glancing back up at Tess. Her expression is guarded, like she still doesn’t fully trust Tess, but there’s a new openness to her.

“Can we–”

“Do you–”

They both speak at the same time and Tess laughs as Paige scratches the back of her neck. “Come sit?” Paige requests softly. Tess studies her features, the earnestness in her eyes, and she nods shyly as she rounds the bed to sit on Paige’s left side. She makes sure to leave a bit of space in between them, unsure of where their boundaries lay after all this time. “You first?”

Tess nods again, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. “I know you said sorry doesn’t fix anything, but I want to try, if you’ll hear me out?” Paige stares at her for a long while before tilting her head, giving her the all-clear. Paige reaches for a cookie again, checking the heat, before lifting it to her mouth and humming at the flavor. “I was spiraling again,” Tess says slowly, once she’s found the words. “Overthinking every single thing. I was confused. There was so much going on in my head and it was awful because there’s nothing anyone can do about it. I know the solution to it – it’s too risky, and I can’t lose everything I have. Not again. I shouldn’t have shut you out, but isolating myself is the only way I know how to deal with my shit. I thought I was protecting myself, protecting you, but I only made it worse.”

Paige doesn’t say anything, still chewing, and Tess keeps rambling. “I’m so sorry. Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it. I hurt you and I keep hurting you and I don’t – I don’t know why or how but I just do and you don’t deserve that, Paige. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for this, but if you never forgive me, I wouldn’t even be able to be mad about it.” Tess laughs humorlessly. “Whatever it takes, I’ll make it up to you, that much I can promise. Just…please, give me another chance?”

Paige gazes at her, her eyes wide and seeking. Tess has to fight every instinct to turn away, to break eye contact, but she needs Paige to know that she’s serious. Finally, Paige relents, a sort of somber half-smile quirking on her lips. “I’on like being mad at you,” she admits. “Arguing. Ignoring you. But…I just –  we agreed to communicate. You promised me that you wouldn’t do this by yourself. I’m upset you broke that promise and our agreement, but I understand why you did it. Just wish you hadn’t ‘cause we coulda fixed whatever it was. Easily. I woulda made time for you; shit, I did make time for you, and you threw it back in my face. That shit hurt.”

“I know,” Tess whispers. “I would feel the same way, too. You have every right to be upset with me. I’d be mad if you weren’t mad at me.”

That makes Paige laugh. It’s full, from the belly, and all of the tension in the room disappears. Paige is quiet for a moment before she speaks again. “I’on know about forgiveness right now,” she says honestly. “We gotta work towards that. But I don’t wanna be mad anymore.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Tess says softly. Paige smiles at her, her knuckles brushing her hand, the touch electrifying. The relief is nearly overwhelming. Things aren’t back to normal, but they’re as close to normal as they’ve been in five months, and that’s all Tess can really ask for. She then remembers where they are and exhales deeply. “I, uh, I think Moe might need a hand in the kitchen.”

Paige refocuses. She clears her throat. “Yeah. Okay.” They both stand, Paige holding onto the plate of cookies, but before they can leave the room, Tess stops her with a hand to her wrist.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, her throat bobbing. “For hearing me out.”

Paige’s smile grows, turning into something tender despite the reservation in her eyes. “Of course.” Then, Tess can almost feel the shift in the air as Paige’s eyes flash with mischievousness. “Just don’t do that shit again or you can go spend Thanksgiving with the Ionescus.”

“Paige Madison!”

After their much needed conversation, the energy in the house almost immediately changes. Tess feels like her breathing comes a little easier since she doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around Paige. When they made it back downstairs, Moe instantly put them to work in the kitchen. Both Moe and Paige pretended to not see Drew and Tess’s excited handshake to celebrate the fact that the cookies worked. Tess and Paige sat side by side as they peeled the potatoes for the mashed potatoes, quietly catching up on all of the things they’d missed over the last five months. Tess thought that revisiting those memories would hurt a little more, but being honest with Paige helped a lot. They’re working on moving past this, and while Tess does have much to atone for, she fully intends to put in the work to earn back Paige’s trust.

As soon as the potatoes are peeled and ready, there’s a knock at the front door. Moe leaves to get it and returns with a family of four in tow. Tess doesn’t recognize them, but when Paige goes in to hug each of them, she assumes it must be her mom’s side.

“Tess, this is my mom, Amy, and my step-dad Brian,” Paige states, some lingering fondness in her tone. Tess grins as she shakes their hands, greeting them. “And these idiots are Lauren and Ryan.” Immediately, Lauren and Ryan start talking over each other as they drag Paige, but the taller blonde struggles to hide her amusement as they squabble. “Guys, this is Tess.”

“Your girlfriend,” Ryan drawls, cooing dramatically. Lauren snickers.

Paige, to her credit, doesn’t react much, but a light flush settles on her cheeks as she smiles at them. “Yes, my girlfriend,” she says. “Where’s yours?”

Lauren hisses, murmuring ouch under her breath, while Ryan rolls his eyes and Tess giggles. “Not fair. You guys U-Hauled.”

“I actually specifically told her I’d do anything but U-Haul,” Tess cuts in. Paige scoffs, but grins. “It’s nice to meet you both.” 

Moe then kicks the four of them out of her kitchen and Paige drags them into the living room where Drew is watching TV. Everyone disperses, settling in on the couch or the futon. Tess hardly has the time to make a decision before Paige takes a seat in an armchair, pulling Tess haphazardly into her lap. Her siblings don’t pay any attention to them as they argue over the remote, trying to set up the Playstation. Tess glances at Paige with an amused look, though also slightly confused. She’d thought she would have needed to grovel a little more before Paige would want to be close to her, but she’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Problem?” Paige asks nonchalantly, adjusting Tess so she sits a little more comfortably.

“Nope,” she says. She ignores the slight crack in her voice, but Paige doesn’t have the same plan to. Paige grins smugly and Tess rolls her eyes. “You’re insufferable.” Paige merely pinches her hip in response. Once Paige’s siblings have the Playstation set up, the five of them take turns split-screening Fortnite, integrating Tess almost seamlessly into their dynamic. While two play, the other three chat and play cards. Paige declared early on that Monopoly was firmly off the table, not wanting to sit through Lauren and Ryan’s inevitable argument when one or the other went bankrupt.

Tess settles in easily with Paige and her siblings. She finds herself smiling more than she thought she would, pressed against Paige’s body, and maybe she’ll admit that Thanksgiving isn’t so bad when you have good company. She feels lighter than she has in five months and she couldn’t think of any way today could get any better.

Paige’s hand rests low on Tess’s waist, splaying across her stomach as she pulls her in closer, chin hooked over her shoulder and grinning at the sight of all of her siblings together. Tentatively, Tess rests her hand over Paige’s, relaxing when Paige gives her a gentle squeeze. “You happy?” Tess asks softly, tilting her head so Paige can hear her. She can feel the smile that Paige presses into her neck.

Paige’s voice is muffled against her skin, but she shivers at the way it reverberates through her entire body. “Yeah. I am,” she admits, her tone full of affection. Her grip tightens on Tess ever so slightly. “I missed you.”

Tess’s throat bobs with emotion, feeling her chest tighten. “I missed you, too,” she says honestly. And when Paige’s lips brush against her skin, almost imperceptibly, Tess gets the feeling that they’re a lot closer to being okay than she’d thought.

Thanksgiving dinner that night goes a lot better than the night before. The chatter is lively, food is passed around, and they all link hands in prayer before digging in. Everything is delicious. Tess would have gone for seconds if she wasn’t trying to save space for pie. Even after their plates are cleared and Tess has to unbutton her jeans just so she can sit comfortably, the nine of them remain at the table, sharing stories and jokes. Paige’s hand finds her knee under the table, almost unconsciously, and Tess’s subsequent smile is real. She should be alarmed by how well she assimilates into Paige’s family, by how well she plays the part of girlfriend. She should be alarmed by the fact she’s not pretending at all, that this is just the soft, simpering idiot that Paige turns her into with the simplest of smiles.

When everything is said and done that night, Tess is crawling back into Paige’s bed, the smell of her shampoo and perfume still fresh on the sheets. The air mattress has been lying untouched since the night before. Tess is struck with the realization that she doesn't want Paige sleeping on the floor tonight, but she can’t think too much about that because Paige is walking back into her room, her hair damp over her shoulder as she squeezes the excess water out with a towel. They share a soft smile. Tess still thinks that Paige is the prettiest woman she’s ever laid eyes on.

“So,” Tess begins hesitantly, folding her hands over her stomach as she reclines back on the bed. Paige hums, urging her to continue, running her brush through her hair. “I heard through the grapevine that there’s a Thanksgiving tradition where you tell your friends and family what you’re thankful for.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, an inquisitive noise building in the back of her throat.

“Mhm,” Tess responds, glancing at Paige, who meets her eyes through the mirror on the wall. Her lips quirk up into a smile. “Am I allowed to say I’m thankful for you?”

“Depends,” Paige teases. She leaves her hairbrush on her dresser and takes a seat at the foot of her bed, pulling on a pair of socks to ward off the late-November Minnesotan chill. “Do you mean it?”

“I do,” Tess says, completely honest. Paige’s eyes scan her features for any hint of a falsehood. Finding nothing but earnestness, her smile grows, an almost bashful flush settling on her cheeks. “I’m serious. I know I’ve been a jerk–”

“Not the word I’d use–”

“Shh,” Tess laughs. Paige raises her hands in defense. “But I’m glad you’re here, that you’re in my life. You didn’t save me, but you made it easier to want to save myself. I don’t make it easy for you, but… I don’t know – you take care of me. I just hope I can repay the favor one day.”

“S’not transactional,” Paige states. “Don’t need you to ‘repay’ me. Just want you to be happy.”

“I am.”

Paige smiles at her, a lone dimple popping out, and Tess truly can’t help the way her heart beats a little faster. “Good.”

There’s something about the way Paige lingers, her gaze expressive. “Paige,” Tess says, almost nervously. She hums, leaning back slightly, awaiting her question. Tess clears her throat. “Don’t sleep on that fucking air mattress.”

Paige’s eyes are bright, alert, searching Tess’s expression for any sign of a sike! moment. “Are you sure?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t wanna–”

“Paige,” Tess says again. “Please?”

And then Paige is nodding, a smile overtaking her features again. She crawls gingerly over Tess’s legs, slipping under the purple comforter next to her. They’re both on their backs, nearly elbow to elbow, and the space between them feels electric. Sure, they shared a room on their Bose trip, but they remained in their separate beds. This is the closest they’ve been in five months, and Tess is certain that every cell in her body is simultaneously combusting.

“Tess,” Paige says.

“Yes, Paige?”

“Am I allowed to say I’m thankful for you too?” she murmurs.

Tess’s chest loosens. “Depends.” She cranes her neck to glance at Paige, but the blonde is already staring at her, her gaze dark and beseeching. “Do you mean it?”

Instead of a verbal response, Paige moves, one hand holding herself up and the other cupping Tess’s jaw, kissing her with a soft intensity that pulls the breath directly from her lungs. Tess sighs, tangling her fingers in Paige’s hair, letting Paige guide her as she liked for better access. Paige pulls back, her nose brushing against Tess’s cheek as she presses her lips to the slope of her jaw, the spot under her ear that makes her shiver, the base of her throat, her pulse point. Tess can feel Paige’s smirk as she lingers, her lips sweeping across her skin. “Your heart’s beating really fast,” she murmurs.

Tess scoffs, blushing fiercely. “I wonder why,” she retorts.

“I think I got a few ideas,” Paige says smugly.

“Think less,” Tess says breathlessly, pulling Paige back to her lips, halting whatever stupid comment she was about to make. Paige grins insufferably, her kiss long and slow. Tess feels herself sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress, consumed by all things Paige Bueckers; the scent of her perfume, the silk of her pillowcase, the warmth of her hand on her skin, the push and pull of her lips.

When they finally pull apart, Paige’s lips ghost across her temple as she murmurs, “Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”

The nickname does little to slow the beating of her heart. Tess doesn’t care. “Happy Thanksgiving, Paige.”

DECEMBER 2023

are you still interested in christmas-ing with the kennedys?

Wouldn’t miss it for the world

okay let me email you the tickets

[Paige loved “let me email you the tickets”] You gonna pick me up from the airport?

i could be persuaded

Say less [1 Attachment]

that’s a picture of dunkin donuts

It is Which is what I will buy for you if you pick me up from the airport

you drive a hard bargain 🤔 can you upsell? 

I mean Coffee, a bacon egg & cheese, and Paige Bueckers in your passenger seat Are you not convinced?

not really

Bruh Tess PLEASE do not make me take an Uber

you are such a baby 😭 don’t worry i’ll be there with a sign that says “welcome back from jail”

As long as you’re there I don’t care what’s on the sign

ok smooth oh also so what are your thoughts on spending like a day with my family then we go into the city for like the new year’s eve stuff in times square

Alone? 🫦

oh my god ok so you can actually walk from the airport

I’m kidding I’d be down for that Whatever you want

[Tess loved “Whatever you want”] sounds good see you soon

Can’t wait 🫶

DECEMBER 29, 2023

Tess is nervous.

She isn’t exactly sure why. She’s been in this situation time and time again, waiting at the airport for someone to pick her up or waiting to pick someone else up. It’s extremely busy, an unfortunate repercussion of the fact that it was that limitless space between Christmas and New Year’s where time didn’t exactly exist and people were flying in and out of New York constantly. Perhaps the difference is just because it’s her picking up Paige when it’s usually the other way around. One of the themes she’s begun to notice is that simply doing things with Paige just makes them feel different. She can’t exactly explain it, but Paige has this way of helping her see and experience things through a new lens.

The bustle of the airport makes her stand on edge. She’s never been a huge fan of the crowds, the constant noise, which is probably a strange thing to say as an athlete. She’s usually able to lock in and drown it out, but she’s anxious for other reasons. Paige will be walking through those gates in a few short minutes. Tess is excited to see her – that’s not the issue. She’s dreading the fact that as soon as she and Paige reunite, half of the airport will want to shove their phones in their faces. Again, the lack of fan privacy is probably something she should be used to, although she’d spend her life arguing that the lack of autonomy and respect isn’t something that should be normalized.

But that’s neither here nor there. The PA overhead clicks on. Tess can barely hear the robotic voice over the noise of the crowd as it announces the landing of Paige’s flight. Just a little longer, Tess reminds herself, then we can go home. The time seems to pass slowly, but soon enough, Tess can see a new crowd forming, emerging from the gate, and she feels her heart beat just a little faster at the implication.

Paige stands tall in the crowd, her blonde hair sticking out like a beacon. She’s dressed in an all black Nike tracksuit with the Husky logo emblazoned on the chest, although she holds a hoodie close to her chest as if she’d gotten hot on the plane but prepared well for the New York chill. Tess makes her way through the crowd in Paige’s direction. It doesn’t take long for Paige to find her, a beaming smile growing on her face, and Paige falls into her with evident relief.

Tess will never get tired of the way Paige hugs her. She melts completely, her body enveloping hers, her head always falling close to her neck. Paige’s body is firm, tangible, and Tess sighs at the weight and pressure of their embrace. “Merry Christmas, ma,” Paige murmurs in her ear, squeezing her tight.

“Merry Christmas, Paige,” Tess responds. “And Happy New Year’s, I guess.”

Paige’s shoulders shake with laughter as she pulls back, dropping an affectionate kiss to Tess’s forehead before intertwining their fingers. “It ain’t New Year’s yet,” she says.

“Close enough?”

“Nah.” Paige shakes her head, looking all too mischievous. “S’not New Year’s until I get my kiss at midnight.”

Tess rolls her eyes, but a flush settles over her cheeks. “You’re incorrigible.”

“C’mon – look at you!” Paige gestures with her free hand as she leads the two of them over to baggage claim. “I’m not a monster, I’m just a man with needs,” she sings, terribly off-key, which amuses Tess.

“Alright, Daniel Caesar,” she goads, smirking. “Let’s get you out of here before people charge you with aural assault.”

Paige suddenly looks affronted, blue eyes wide and indignant. “Oral?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

Tess sighs, shaking her head. “No, baby, aural. A-U-R-A-L. As in hearing.”

Paige scoffs. “Jus’ say that, then.” Then, her head snaps back quickly, glancing at Tess with mock-offense. “Wait, that wasn’t nice!” Finally, her suitcase rolls around and she hauls it off the conveyor with ease.

Tess snickers, patting Paige on the shoulder. “Remember what I told you? I gotta keep your ego at a reasonable level.” With their hands still linked, Tess leads them through the crowded airport quickly, eager to get home and away from all of these people.

“My girl so mean,” Paige huffs dramatically. “Nothin’ wrong with my ego. You’re just a D1 hater.”

Tess smiles. “Are you finished?”

“No!”

Paige rambles the entire drive back to Tess’s house, but she at least stays true to her promise and buys Tess brunch at Dunkin – not that Tess expected anything less from her. In the short eight months they’ve been friends, Paige has proven herself to be very intentional in her words and actions. She doesn’t make a habit of saying things she doesn’t mean. Excluding their banter or when they’re teasing one another, Paige is unfathomably genuine. Promises and intent are incredibly important to her; Tess found that out the hard way back in November, but she’s keen on keeping that an isolated incident.

When Tess parks on the curb behind her parents’ car, she cuts the engine, but makes no effort to get out. Paige glances at her with a concerned expression, her thumb brushing against her knuckles gently. “So, my parents might be…a lot,” she says hurriedly, meeting Paige’s eyes. “Just let me know if it gets overwhelming or something, okay?”

Paige smiles reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry, ma. We got this in the bag.”

Tess returns the smile, though it’s a little weaker. “I’m serious. My dad likes you but you might get the shovel talk.”

“I’m serious, too.” Paige lifts their hands, pressing her lips to Tess’s palm. There’s no use hiding the infectious blush, so she just tries to not look as down bad as she feels. “I can handle it.”

Tess sighs, conceding, and she collects her belongings and leads Paige into her house. Her parents are sitting in the living room watching a movie when they walk in. Almost instantly, they turn to stare down Paige, who, to her credit, doesn’t falter, instead offering a polite smile.

“Hey, guys,” Tess says awkwardly. “This is Paige. Paige, these are my parents, Alessandra and Mateo.”

Her parents stand to shake her hand. “Great to finally meet you both,” Paige says charismatically, not wincing under her father’s handshake, which earns her a gleam of silent approval. Point, Paige. Her parents echo the sentiment, flashing relaxed smiles, and Tess finally chills out.

“Are you both staying for dinner? I know you have other plans this weekend,” her mom asks.

“Yes, mamma,” Tess replies with a smile. “We’re heading into the city tomorrow afternoon and I’ll be back on Monday after I drop her off at the airport.”

Her parents share a glance, as if silently communicating with one another. Their apparent telepathic capabilities always terrified Tess growing up. That fear comes back tenfold when the both of them glance at Paige, curiosity in their gaze as they soak her in. Paige, admirably, stands strong, a calm seriousness in her expression. She doesn’t even react when Tess subconsciously tightens her grip on her hand. While it feels like they stand there for hours, the staredown only lasts a few seconds before her parents relent. “I’m making bolognese tonight,” her mom states, the tension in the room dissolving.

At that, Tess relaxes again, and flashes a quiet smile at her parents. “We’ll be in my room,” she says. “Paige is jet-lagged after her flight.” None of them comment on the fact that Paige only travelled across one time zone, but her parents smile kindly and return to their movie as Tess drags Paige down the hallway, flushing. “Oh my God. That was the most nerve wracking thing ever.”

“I’ve never dissociated so hard in my life,” Paige confesses. “Did I do okay? Can they smell fear?”

Tess laughs, pulling Paige inside her room and shutting the door. “Christ, Paige – they’re Italians, not fucking sharks.” Paige rolls her eyes, depositing her bags close to the door and kicking off her shoes. She wraps her arms around Tess from behind, rocking them side-to-side, and Tess can’t help her smile as Paige sighs with relief. “Good job, though. She asked if you were staying for dinner.” Tess spins in Paige’s embrace, wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her in celebration.

“Is that good?” Paige asks, her cheeks turning red.

“Very,” Tess confirms. “Just don’t wear jeans. She cooks enough for a small army and she’ll make you eat dessert, too.”

Paige nods seriously, like impressing her parents is an important task to her. “I’ll lock in,” she vows, her lips brushing against Tess’s jaw. “They’re gonna like me more than they like you.”

And at that, Tess shoves Paige away from her, scoffing indignantly while the blonde dissolves into laughter. “Jerk,” Tess grumbles. She makes her way to her bed, climbing in and turning the TV on. “Grey’s?” she asks Paige hopefully, as if the blonde would ever say no to Grey’s Anatomy, and Paige nods as she crawls in next to Tess, slinging an arm over her waist and resting her head on her chest.

They make it through an episode and a half before Paige falls asleep, lulled into slumber by the drag of Tess’s fingertips against her scalp. Tess knows she’s been working hard this season, spending extra time in the gym and training because she’s shouldering so much more for her team. She’s on court for nearly 40 minutes a game and although she’d never admit it, Tess knows that it’s taxing.

Tess wouldn’t admit it, either; she knows this arrangement is temporary, but she could get used to this – laying in bed with Paige while the blonde naps, comfortable in the knowledge that out of all of the people in her life, Tess is the one person she knows she can go to and not be expected to be Paige Bueckers all the time. She’s not expected to shoulder all of the responsibility, not expected to be the tough one – she can just be. The fact that Tess can provide that kind of comfort and security for her means more to her than she’d ever expected.

Paige shifts in her sleep, her arm tightening around Tess’s waist subconsciously, and Tess allows herself a gentle smile. It’s temporary, but she’s going to enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

Dinner was surprisingly nice that night. True to Tess’s word, her mom did make a shit ton of food, but Paige was a willing victim as she went back for seconds and had room for a slice of tiramisu. The chatter was lively and Paige integrated so well with her family. They asked about her childhood, her dreams, and her dad even dragged her into a lengthy conversation about football and the Superbowl. For an Italian raised man, her father was far too interested in American football, but Tess can’t find it in herself to mind too much when Paige’s hand finds her knee under the table as she listens intently. The smile on her face is bright, endeared. When Tess catches her mother’s gaze from across the table, noting the silent approval and her own fondness, she realizes that there’s just something so right about her and Paige.

They gather around the Christmas tree after dinner. Tess and her parents had already opened most of their gifts when Tess’s cousins came around on Christmas day, but her parents had surprised them both with gifts for Paige. Paige wasn’t expecting it, but the childlike wonder on her face was priceless, and Tess really couldn’t have been all too shocked by the fact that she fell just a little harder for Paige as she opened her presents. It was nothing major; a few pieces of workout apparel, a sneaky South Carolina hoodie that they all laughed at as Paige stared at it in mock-disgust (Tess knew she’d wear it), and a gift card for an upscale restaurant in the city that she and Paige planned to take full advantage of.

And then Paige surprised her parents with gifts of their own, which was incredibly fucked up, because how was Tess supposed to go back to normal when Paige is buying her parents Christmas presents and they’re not even dating for real? Paige gives her father a beautiful watch and her mother a gorgeous necklace. Judging by the way they sparkle, they must both cost a fortune, and Paige tells them she already tore up the receipts so there’s absolutely no take-backsies.

Tess hugs her parents goodnight, although they also pull Paige in for one when she tries to shake their hands again. Her parents both whisper their firm approval and Tess can’t help the way her chest tightens. They tell her that they really like Paige – that makes Tess laugh weakly because they aren’t the only ones. She really likes Paige, too, and that’s slowly becoming her biggest problem right now.

After they both shower, Paige rifles through her bag, searching for something, and when she turns around, she presents Tess with a small, gift-wrapped box. “Paige,” Tess grumbles, not expecting a gift from her, but the Cheshire grin on her face makes her resolve weaken.

“C’mon,” Paige goads. “D’you really think I wouldn’t get you sum’?” Tess rolls her eyes, but she opens the drawer on her nightstand and pulls out a gift wrapped box, too. Paige’s smile grows. They exchange their gifts, and after much argument, Paige convinces Tess to open hers first. She takes the wrapping apart gingerly, her eyes widening at the Tiffany & Co logo. “Don’t freak,” Paige says gently, which does little to hide the fact that Tess is freaking.

“Paige–”

“Open it, ma.”

Swallowing thickly, Tess does, and tucked into the cushion of the box is a small, yet glimmering, bracelet charm. She picks it up gingerly, her breath catching. “I struggled for a really long time to find the perfect one,” Paige admits in a whisper. Tess glances up at her, watching a slow smile spread across her face. “Had to get it custom made. It’s the Gampel court. I know – why would you wanna walk around with the enemy court on your wrist, whatever, but flip it over.” Tess flips it, and on the back, February 8, 2021, is engraved. “This was the first game we’d played against each other. The first time I met you in person, the first time I shook your hand. And honestly, I didn’t think we could beat you. I didn’t think I could beat you. You made it really fucking hard.” That draws a teary laugh from Tess, but Paige keeps going, a smile on her face. “As we played, it became less about, I’on know, beating you and more about impressing you. Win or lose, I was just really fucking grateful I got to share the court with you. I learned so much from your game and you made me a better player, whether you realized it or not. I was scared to reach out to you – you’d always been sort of untouchable, I didn’t think you’d wanna be my friend, especially since we’re on different teams. But here we are now.”

“Here we are,” Tess agrees, her lip quivering. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to out-do that,” she jokes.

Paige rolls her eyes, dimples popping out. “Lemme put it on you?” she requests. Tess nods, handing over the charm, and with overwhelming gentleness, Paige clasps the charm to her bracelet, giving her hand a squeeze once it’s safely secured.

“Thank you,” Tess says, her voice barely a whisper. She meets Paige’s eyes. Her expression shines with adoration, fondness, the blue of her gaze disarming. “It’s beautiful.”

Paige smiles at her, vulnerable and tender. “Of course,” she says.

Tess gestures to the wrapped box in Paige’s hand and she opens it gingerly. Inside the box is a thumb ring. The band is extremely thin, gold in color, and isn’t perfectly straight. It resembles the stem of a rose which leads into the petals with two miniscule leaves jutting out on either side. Paige stares at the ring in a reverent sort of awe. “So, we have this Italian saying: se son rose, fioriranno. ‘If they are roses, they will bloom.’ It essentially means that things take time to develop. You have to have faith that the roses will bloom – that you will bloom. It reminded me of both of us – our ACLs, that in time, they won’t weigh us down.” Paige glances back up, meeting Tess’s eyes. “It reminded me of you. I know this year hasn’t been easy for you so far, for your team, but in time, you’ll find that success you’ve been working your entire career for.”

Paige smiles even though her eyes water and her bottom lip quivers. “Tess… I’on know what to say.”

“Well, that’s a first,” Tess jokes, and the both of them dissolve into laughter. At Paige’s insistence, Tess slides the ring onto her thumb. Paige stares at it for a while, a dopey expression on her face, but Tess can tell she loves it. “Merry Christmas, P.”

Paige’s smile grows. She leans in, softly pressing her lips to Tess’s, her arm curling around her waist and dragging her closer until she’s nearly in her lap. Tess places her hands over Paige’s shoulders for stabilization, content to let Paige take the lead, but it’s not long before Paige is withdrawing to ghost her lips across Tess’s cheek, murmuring into her ear, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

DECEMBER 30, 2023

The first few hours of the morning are spent watching cheesy Hallmark movies, much to Paige’s chagrin. She thinks they’re too corny, but Tess argues they’re a holiday staple. Paige eventually gives in after Tess makes her a mug of hot chocolate with extra whipped cream, although that doesn’t save her from Paige’s endless commentary.

“The acting is so bad,” Paige says, her tone disgusted. She stretches out a little more on the couch, her leg brushing against Tess’s. “Why does she move her head so much? Why does she keep blinking?”

“Paige,” Tess says, fond exasperation clear in her tone. “It’s not supposed to be good.”

“Well, it’s bothering me,” she whines. “Moving your eyebrows so much doesn’t make you look cool. It makes you look ridiculous.”

“You are such a baby,” Tess gripes. She lifts Paige’s left arm, tucking herself flush against her side. Paige gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze as she pulls her in a little tighter. “If you think about it, they’re just like us.”

At that, Paige raises her brows, huffing out something akin to unconvinced laughter. “Yeah? How so?”

Tess smiles at her coyly. “They got paired up together for the mural contest. Now they have to work together if they want to win.” She presses her fingertips together, separating them as she makes an explosion noise. Paige snorts. “I don’t think we’d be on Hallmark, though. Not PG enough. You curse like a sailor.”

“Me?” Paige asks. “Have you heard yourself?”

“You’re really gonna sit here and blame me for sh – stuff?” Paige gives her a knowing look, a smirk growing on her face. Tess juts her lip out in a pout that’s clearly not working on Paige. “It’s Christmas and you’re being mean to me?”

“It is not Christmas –”

Tess sighs dramatically, cutting her off. “Christmas,” she whines.

Paige rolls her eyes good naturedly, brushing her lips across Tess’s temple and shutting her up. They finish the movie, along with two others before it’s time for them to make the arduous, thirty minute journey into the city (traffic was a bitch). Paige called dibs on driving, which Tess wasn’t happy about considering that it was her car, but as soon as she thought about driving through the city traffic, she changed her mind.

Tess booked them a suite in a hotel called Tempo by Hilton, mostly due to its proximity to the New Year’s Eve ball drop location. After they checked in, they planned on heading out to dinner and then lounging around for the rest of the evening. They weren’t doing much on the 31st either, their only real plan being the ball drop. They agreed they weren’t going to fill up an entire itinerary. New Year’s in New York was just supposed to be a weekend vacation away from their families and the city would be crowded enough that they’d be away from the media, too. It was difficult to find much to do since Tess was not a fan of the New York nightlife. December marked eight months of sobriety – it wasn’t a lot, but it was a source of pride for her. She had no interest in going back on that even if the urges were long gone by now.

They got ready for dinner together, although Paige was absolutely no help at all. She was dressed in a multicolored striped sweater, baggy white jeans and a pair of matching shoes; her hair was styled down in loose waves. Tess jokingly told her that she looked like an art teacher and Paige rolled her eyes so hard that she had to lay down because it made her head hurt.

“Paige, I don’t know what to wear,” Tess complains. 

“Sum’ warm,” she says unhelpfully, not looking up.

“I want to wear a dress.”

“Then wear one?”

“It’ll be cold!”

“Bring a sweater.”

“And ruin the fit?” Tess grumbles.

Paige laughs, much to Tess’s chagrin. “You can pull anything off,” she says.

“It’s probably not even that cold,” Tess muses, glancing down at the dress she packed. It’s a simple black one that cuts off just below her thighs with thin straps at the top. “We’ll be inside for the most part, right?”

Paige shifts, holding her head up with her hand as she stares at Tess with amusement. “Wear the dress. Bring a sweater. Or don’t. I can give you mine and we can be all cute and shit.”

“You just want me wearing your clothes,” Tess says under her breath, but Paige hears it.

“Damn,” she deadpans. “Caught me.”

Tess wears the dress. She doesn’t bring a sweater. The restaurant was warm enough that she didn’t need one, although she’s certain that Paige deliberately took them the long way back to their hotel so she’d cave and ask Paige for her sweater. Her suspicions are proved true when Paige forces them to take what feels like a million photos, but Tess just feels endlessly endeared by her, so she entertains it.

“I like you in this,” Paige comments nonchalantly once they make it back to the hotel room. She toys with the frayed edges of the multicolored sweater mindlessly, glancing up to smile at Tess coyly.

“I know,” she says, taking her jewelry out and unpinning her hair. Paige lingers behind her, watching as she works. “You’re so down bad. It’s sickening.”

“Sorry,” Paige lies. Tess shakes her head with an amused smile. “Look in the mirror and get back to me. Who wouldn’t be?”

They watch an episode or two of Grey’s before bed that night, although Tess falls asleep after the first thirty minutes. The weight of Paige’s body against hers was too calming, the scent of her perfume in the air, the drag of her fingertips across her back. Despite doing nothing but lounging around, traveling, and going to dinner, Tess was exhausted. Paige could be partially to blame for that – she makes Tess feel safe, like she doesn’t have to worry about keeping all of her walls up. She has a comforting energy that could make anyone relax and lose all of their worries.

But maybe she’s a little too effective at that. If Tess had managed to stay awake longer, then maybe she would have heard the dial tone, the sound of another person picking up, and Paige’s whispered confession of, “Aubrey, I might be in love.”

But she didn’t hear it – and Paige may never say it again.

Things are fine the morning after, although Tess would have no reason to expect them to not be. She wakes up before Paige does (not a surprise), although they shifted at some point during the night. While Tess fell asleep with her head on Paige’s chest, she woke up on her side with Paige’s right arm slung protectively over her waist and the blonde’s face pressed into the back of her neck. Her breathing was gentle, fanning against her skin, sending shivers down Tess’s spine when she was coherent enough to realize just how close they were.

She slides out of Paige’s arms, careful to not wake her, and stretches as she walks into the bathroom to begin her morning routine. She’s in the middle of brushing her teeth when Paige finally wakes up, padding into the bathroom and wiping the exhaustion out of her eyes. “Mornin’,” she says, voice thick with sleep. She presses a quick, chaste kiss to Tess’s cheek before she reaches for her own toothbrush and gets to work.

“Morning, Paigey,” Tess says, though her words are muffled around the toothbrush in her mouth. Paige shoots her an amused glance while Tess tries not to stare at her too obviously. She’s dressed in a pair of black basketball shorts and a matching Nike sports bra, although her shorts hang low on her waist, revealing the waistband of her boxers. There’s not even a safe region for Tess to look at. The muscles in her shoulders are freakishly defined, the veins in her hands protrude slightly, her expression is soft and mellowed out, and her hair is down in bedridden waves. Tess needs to be taken out back and shot between the eyes. This is getting out of hand.

“Sum’ you wanna say?” Paige asks around the foam in her mouth. Tess flushes immediately, much to Paige’s endless enjoyment.

“Nope!” she says as she spits out her toothpaste. “Nothing at all.”

Paige catches her around the waist when she tries to leave, attempting to put space between them. Tess’s breath hitches as Paige pulls her flush against her, her hands resting on her bare stomach. Wordlessly, Paige bites down on her toothbrush, using her free hand to wipe away a smudge of toothpaste off Tess’s bottom lip. Paige’s subsequent smile is all too smug and she has to shove her away before she says something pathetic like naming the 2023 WNBA draft class by pick order.

She can hear Paige’s light laughter from the bathroom as she returns to the main room. When Paige finishes up in the bathroom, she doesn’t mention how she flustered Tess, although she does put a shirt on (much to Tess’s simultaneous relief and disappointment) and picks up the phone to order room service for them. The food arrives quickly, an assortment of meats, pastries, and other delicacies. Paige insists on making Tess’s plate for her – the princess treatment getting is ridiculous, but who is she to complain? – and the photo of Paige that she captures, messy bun and oversized t-shirt on, is good enough that Tess considers gatekeeping it, but she ultimately posts it anyway because the people deserve to know that UConn’s basketball star is doing this for her and not for them.

Paige reposts it with the eye rolling emoji and the princess emoji, which makes Tess laugh.

They talk all throughout breakfast, easy conversations and jokes, and they lounge around in the hotel room until it’s time to get ready for the ball drop. Tess, once again, struggles with what to wear, but when Paige comes out of the bathroom wearing a hot pink, long-sleeved Nike sweater with black baggy cargos and rummages through Tess’s suitcase, Tess really can’t be all too surprised when the outfit Paige selected matches her’s.

“You could be a little less obvious,” Tess suggests as she does her hair in the mirror.

Paige only smiles, taking in Tess’s outfit. Paige has dressed her in a pink tube top and black high-waisted pants with a matching coat. “Nah,” she says after a minute of shameless ogling. “I did my big one.”

Tess rolls her eyes. She would never admit it to the blonde, but she and Paige look good.

The walk to Times Square flies passes quickly. They spend it hand-in-hand with Paige expertly navigating them through the busy New York foot traffic as Tess takes countless pictures of the city decorated for New Year’s. She gets plenty of photos of Paige, too, the easy smile on her face, her side profile illuminated by the city lights. Tess knows very well by now that Paige is extremely attractive – that wasn’t a secret to anyone. She was magnetic and Tess has been stuck in her orbit from the first time they met, not in the conference room, but when they played each other in 2021. It takes her a long time to realize her feelings. She keeps them under tight lock and key, knowing that her goal and purpose is to play basketball. She never had the time for anything else, but when Paige finds her gaze, squeezing their intertwined hands, Tess thinks that maybe she could make time if Paige decided to stay in her life permanently.

Paige isn’t magnetic because of her looks. It definitely helps, and while that physical attraction will never leave, Tess has come to find she’s attracted to Paige for other reasons. She likes Paige’s kindness, her candor, her irresistible charm. She likes that Paige keeps her accountable, that she stands ten toes down on her beliefs. Tess is drawn to the way Paige cares for those around her, the way she gives everything her all. She likes her humor, her faith, her compassion. There isn’t a single thing Tess hates about her, but there’s an infinite amount of things that Tess loves about Paige Bueckers.

Love.

Tess loves Paige Bueckers.

That realization, while incredibly sudden, doesn’t surprise Tess as much as it probably should. If anything, it’s freeing – there’s a reason, an explanation to the way she’s been feeling for so long. It should scare her, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because it hasn’t set in yet, the panic. Tess panicked when she realized she had feelings for Paige in the first place. But maybe it’s because she’s older now, arguably wiser. She’s learned that she can’t run from her feelings. She has to embrace them for what they are. She’s in love with Paige. It should scare her because Paige was her first “relationship,” first kiss, and now, first love. It should scare her but it doesn’t and that’s just what it is.

It should scare her because now, rule four is officially broken. There’s no arguing against it or calling it by any other name. She dapped Paige up in a campus coffee shop and promised her that she wouldn’t fall in love with her. In fairness, a Notes app contract and a handshake isn’t really legally binding. But at the end of the day, Tess doesn’t care and that’s probably the scary part. She’s in love. It’s unsurprising, undaunting, and looking back, inevitable. 

“You good?” Paige asks, drawing Tess from her thoughts. “You got really quiet.”

Tess thinks about her answer. Is she okay? She’s here, in New York City with Paige Bueckers, the woman she’s in love with, and they’re about to watch the New Year’s Eve ball drop. She’s three months away from being able to play basketball again, a year away from declaring for the WNBA draft. She is literally on the cusp of achieving all of her dreams, of having everything she’s ever wanted. So, she smiles at Paige, shifting closer into her personal space as they walk, and she’s honest when she responds, “Yeah. I’m good.” The smile that Paige gives her is bright, full of fondness, and so disarming that Tess truly wonders how she went so long trying to convince herself that she couldn’t fall in love with her. Paige just makes it so easy. And when she pulls Tess tighter into her side, whispering a joke into her ear, part of Tess hopes that Paige could find it within her to love her back. Another part of her notices the clear adoration in Paige’s eyes, the way she tightens her grip on her hand, and she thinks that maybe Paige Bueckers being in love with Tess Kennedy isn’t such a long shot.

Paige finds them a secluded spot in Times Square, decently far away from the larger portion of the inebriated crowd. The wind is frosty, nipping at her nose and fingers, but Pagie’s body is so warm. She wraps both arms around Paige’s waist, laying her head on her chest, and the blonde runs her fingers up and down her back in a soothing motion. She’s not scared to be in love, but it’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Her heart feels like it’s about to burst at the seams, that the only way she could get this energy out is if she cried from the rooftops.

Right now, there’s literally nowhere else she’d rather be. She has room in her heart for both basketball and Paige – her two first loves. For her, that’s enough.

“D’you have any New Year’s resolutions?” Paige asks once the clock hits 11:50. 

Tess hums, pausing to truly give it some thought. “I think I’m going to try to do more next year,” she admits in a soft whisper. “Do more things, meet new people, take more risks. This year really taught me I can’t just rely on the same thing. Take more drives into to paint, you know?”

Paige smiles at her, immediately catching onto her reference. “No more three-point shooting for you,” she teases. “I wanna see you out-hustle Kamilla for some rebounds.”

Tess laughs. “I don’t know about that,” she says wryly. “What about you? Any resolutions?”

Paige’s hand is warm on her back, still brushing her fingers against her spine. She’s quiet as she thinks. She stares directly into Tess’s eyes when she responds, her eyes blue and beseeching. “I wanna try to build something permanent,” she confesses, her throat bobbing with nerves. “Legacies. My future.” Paige hesitates before her next words. “...Relationships.”

“Yeah?” Tess asks. Paige nods, a flush on her cheeks, though Tess can’t tell if it’s from the December chill or embarrassment. “Sounds admirable. But if anyone can do it, you can.”

Paige’s smile is solemn, although Tess doesn’t pick up on it, shifting her attention to the clock. 11:53. The two of them sit in silence for the next few minutes, swaying side to side to the beat of far-away music, the murmur of the distant crowd. Tess allows herself to get lost in the fantasy of a new year, one where she and Paige aren’t just pretending. Tess stopped pretending a long time ago. Part of her wonders if Paige did, too. She finds it hard to believe that Paige would be so committed to keeping up appearances in private. You could excuse the amount of time they spent together. Friends do that. But friends don’t kiss. They don’t fall asleep with each other, or cuddle, or call each other “baby” like Paige does with an enamored drawl. The signs are all there, but what if they were all lies? She doesn’t want to get her hopes up, even if part of her feels like there’s something more.

Tess has never been one for resolutions. They’re tacky and no one ever upholds them, but she thinks she’s going to uphold hers this year. She’s going to confess to Paige – eventually. Definitely not during the tournament season, not when Paige has so much on her shoulders already. But one day she will. That’s a promise she’s going to uphold.

She checks the clock again. 11:59. When she glances up, Paige is already staring at her. Coyly, she asks, “Ready to ring in the New Year’s?”

Tess chuckles, tightening her arms around Paige’s waist. “Are you?”

“Been ready ever since you picked me up at the airport,” she retorts, a grin growing on her face. “D’you remember what I said? S’not New Year’s until I get my midnight kiss?”

Tess hums as if contemplating something. “I don’t recall that,” she murmurs, her gaze locking onto Paige’s.

“No?” She shakes her head as Paige draws her in closer. Their noses brush. Paige’s eyes are soft, but there’s an emotion swirling in them that Tess just can’t place no matter how long she searches for the answer. “Is there anything I can do to jog your memory?”

The crowd roars, although Tess doesn’t pay them any attention.

10…

9…

8…

“I’m sure there’s something,” Tess concedes.

7…

6…

Paige smiles at her, her hands firm on her back. “Something?” she drawls.

5…

4…

“Paige.”

“Yeah?”

3…

2…

“Please stop talking.”

1!

And she does, pulling Tess even closer and capturing her lips with a gentle urgency. Tess grins against her, reaching up to tangle her fingers in Paige’s loose hair, though Paige grows annoyed at Tess’s inability to be serious. One of her hands finds Tess’s jaw, taking control and guiding their kiss. Her hands are freezing but they feel like a soothing balm against the heat building in Tess’s cheeks.

Paige pulls away for air, her breath coming out in shallow bursts that forms clouds of steam in the air, but she doesn't stay away for too long. She’s swooping back in and kissing Tess with a renewed vigor, like there’s something she’s trying to communicate. Her lips are greedy, insistent, drawing out every single noise building in the back of Tess’s throat. She’s never kissed like this before – technically, Paige is the only person that Tess has kissed, but there’s something that’s earth-shatteringly new about this interaction. Paige kisses her with want, with desire, like she couldn’t bear it if she didn’t have Tess in her arms at all times. And honestly, given how Tess eagerly responds, trying her best to put as little space between her and Paige as possible, Tess isn’t sure if she herself could bear it if she and Paige weren’t near each other.

Her entire nervous system is alight with activity, neurons firing on all cylinders. Call her delusional, or stupid, or whatever, but Paige has awoken a part of her that has laid dormant for 22 years. It’s like part of Tess was waiting for Paige to come into her life, that she wasn’t fully living until she felt what it was like to love Paige Bueckers. Now that she knows, Tess can’t imagine living a life where she doesn’t love Paige Bueckers, where she doesn’t get to look at Paige like she’s hung the very stars in the sky, where she doesn’t get to wake up everyday and wonder how Paige will piss her off this time. It’s just them, it’s how they work, it’s how Tess wants them to work forever and ever and ever.

“Paige,” Tess gasps, almost breathlessly, pushing the blonde away from her with a hand to her chest. Paige looks almost annoyed at the interruption until she takes in the hazy look in Tess’s eyes. “Hotel?” Tess asks, and Paige nods her head so vigorously, coming back to her senses. She reaches for Tess’s hand and shoves their way through the crowd back towards their hotel.

The walk back feels like it takes ages. The elevator ride isn’t any better. Tess is nearly shaking with anticipation and Paige fumbles with the keycard, cursing under her breath. Finally, she opens it, ushering Tess inside with unseen urgency and shuts the door quickly behind them, locking it.

Tess hardly has the time to react before Paige is on her again, one hand at the base of her throat and the other around her waist. Despite her haste, she carefully walks the two of them backwards until the back of Tess’s knees hit the bed and Paige lowers her down gently, cognizant of her leg. Paige pulls back, her eyes clouded with want but she finds some clarity when she looks at Tess again. “Off?” she requests, her voice hoarse, tugging lightly at Tess’s coat. Tess nods, but Paige is shaking her head. “Words, Tess. None of that shit.”

“Off, Paige, please,” she says hastily, leaving her pride at the door. Paige rewards her with a deep kiss to her lips as she reaches for Tess’s coat, pulling it off her shoulders and throwing it somewhere behind her. She stands to kick off her shoes and Tess almost misses the contact until Paige sinks to her knees, reaching to undo her heels. The sight of Paige on her knees, staring up at her in near reverence sends a shockwave of desire straight to Tess’s core. Once her heels are off, she reaches for Paige, pulling her up and on top of her, connecting their lips once more.

“Fuck,” Paige murmurs, dipping down to press her lips to Tess’s jaw. Tess tangles her fingers in Paige’s hair, pulling the hair tie out, allowing the blonde waves to spill over her shoulders as Paige drags wet kisses across the slope of Tess’s collarbones. She nips at her skin, soothing the bite with a pass of her tongue, and Tess can’t help the moan that rips from her throat when Paige’s hands press against her ribs. “So pretty, baby, you have no idea.”

“Says you,” Tess says breathlessly, which draws a laugh from Paige. She pulls back far enough, hooking her fingers under the hem of Tess’s top. Paige meets her eyes, the question evident in her blown-out eyes, and Tess nods rapidly as she says, “Take it off, please.”

Her top comes off quickly and Paige groans, her eyes zoning in on her bare breasts. “So polite,” she murmurs, sliding her hands to her chest. She glances back up for consent, and once she has it, she brushes her thumbs across her nipples, drawing a whimper from Tess. “This what I needa do to get you to be nice?” Her tone is warm despite the insinuation in her tone.

“Stop teasing,” Tess grumbles, and who is Paige to deny her? She leans down, littering wet kisses across her chest, encircling her mouth around a nipple as her hand gives equal attention to the other one. Tess slides her fingers through Paige’s hair for leverage, pulling slightly, and moaning when Paige’s subsequent groan reverberates throughout her body. Her back arches off of the bed, trying to lessen the space between them. Paige pulls back, staring at Tess with a reverent smile like she’s the eighth wonder of the world. Then she’s dipping back down, lavishing her other breast with attention, and Tess feels so high-strung that she could float away from the slightest touch.

When Paige moves down her body, sucking hickeys near her ribs, Tess reaches for Paige’s sweater. Wordlessly, Paige raises her arms, allowing Tess to pull her it off. Her mouth goes dry at the sight of Paige’s abs, firm and rigid and inviting.

“All quiet now, huh?” Paige goads.

“Paige–”

Paige shushes her, pressing their lips together again, swallowing the needy sounds ripping from Tess’s throat as her hands explore. They’re warm, leaving blazing paths of desire across her body, dipping down to grip her thighs. “Gonna get you right,” she promises, leaving Tess’s lips, traveling down to her neck where she sucks a mark into her skin. “Jus’ need you to be patient.”

“Don’t want patient,” Tess says, gasping when Paige bites her shoulder. “Want you.”

“You got me,” Paige reassures. “Always, baby, you got me.” Her fingers hook into the waistband of her pants, looking back up to Tess for approval.

“Please,” she begs. “Fuck, Paige, please.”

With almost agonizing slowness, Paige pulls her pants down her legs, still cognizant of her knee. Her eyes widen at the sight of Tess splayed out under her, her breath catching. “Fuck, Tess,” she murmurs in disbelief. Tess finds it hard to be insecure when Paige is looking at her like this. “All for me?”

“For you,” Tess says, her chest heaving.

Paige smiles smugly, whispering, “Yeah, it is,” before she leans down, pressing her lips to Tess’s full thighs, gripping her hips. She spreads her legs, fitting her body in the space she’s created, trailing kisses towards her knee, where the surgery scar remains. Tess’s breath catches in her throat when Paige kisses her knee, her fingers brushing gently over her skin. “Every inch of you is so fuckin’ beautiful,” she whispers in awe. “God, Tess. How are you real?”

For that, Tess has no answer. She reaches for Paige’s hand, intertwining their fingers as she pulls the blonde back to her lips. They’re locked together for a few moments before Tess feels the brush of Paige’s pant leg against her skin. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she whines.

“Sorry, baby,” Paige whispers against her lips. She kisses her once more, a lingering press before pulling away, pulling her pants off with a quickness. She’s left in a black sports bra and a pair of boxers. 

She settles in again, her lips finding Tess’s navel, pressing wet kisses to her skin. “Paige,” Tess begs again. “Please touch me.”

“Where d’you need me?” she asks, glancing back up to meet Tess’s eyes. She wonders if she looks as destroyed as she feels. Paige hasn’t even done anything, but all of her senses are on overdrive. She reaches for Paige’s hand, guiding it to the apex of her thighs, resting it over her underwear. If she were wearing a lighter color, she’d be concerned about her arousal seeping through the material.

“Off, Paige, please,” Tess requests.

Paige obliges, stripping her fully. Her eyes soak her in, a groan building at the back of her throat at the sight of Tess spread open and exposed for her. Her hands linger on her thighs as Paige returns to Tess’s lips, kissing her deeply once more. “You want me?” she asks, their noses brushing. “We can stop if you want, don’t gotta do nothin’ you’ont want, Tess, I swear it.”

Tess shakes her head, pulling Paige back in. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life. “Want you,” she affirms, her voice breathless. Paige pulls back again; her pupils are blown out and the desire is evident, but she searches Tess’s eyes for any hint of a falsehood. When she finds none, she presses one last kiss to her lips, trailing down her body again until she reaches her cunt. Her breath is warm against her and Tess shivers.

Paige reaches for one of her hands, intertwining their fingers. With the other, she spreads her legs once more, getting comfortable and finally, she dips down fully to drag her tongue slowly along the length of her slit. She groans, the vibrations making Tess crazy, and it takes everything in her to not lose her mind as her back arches. Paige uses her free arm to press down on her hips, keeping her rooted as she licks and sucks, her tongue all over her. And when Paige finds her clit, wrapping her lips around it and sending waves of white-hot pleasure throughout her body, Tess whines so loudly that she can feel the noise in her throat. “Paige, fuck,” she gasps, one of her hands twining in Paige’s hair, tugging her closer and closer to her.

Paige is vocal in general, but the noises she makes against Tess’s cunt are intoxicating in the best way. Her head spins as Paige laps her up, gathering her slick on her tongue and drinking her up like a woman starved. She travels lower, her nose brushing against Tess’s clit as her tongue circles her entrance, and Tess feels like some part of her has died and gone to heaven. The pleasure is immeasurable, white spots blotting at the edges of her vision.

Then Paige’s arm is leaving her hips, her fingers trailing down, brushing across her folds. She presses her lips to Tess’s thigh, smearing the wetness as her thumb rubs slow, intentional circles on her clit. “So pretty like this,” Paige murmurs, her voice thick, sounding like she’s drunk off of her taste. Her fingers dip down and she slowly pushes one inside of her, letting Tess get used to the stretch as she tips her head back in wordless euphoria. “That’s it, baby, you got it.” Her finger starts moving, curling upwards, dragging across a spot that makes Tess writhe.

Tess releases Paige’s hair, one arm slinging over her face, unable to fully process the pleasure. Paige stops suddenly, making a disapproving noise against the inside of her thigh as she nips at her skin. “Eyes on me,” she says firmly, “or I’ll stop.”

Tess whimpers, but does as Paige says. She’s rewarded with a blinding smile, the shine of her slick on Paige’s cheeks evident with the way the moonlight streams through the room. Paige prods at her entrance with a second finger. It’s a tighter squeeze, but Tess just sucks her in. “There we go,” Paige whines, breathless with want. “Jus’ like that, fuck.” Both of her fingers are working her in tandem, curling upwards, and Tess feels boneless.

With every push and pull of her fingers, every time her fingertips brush against the spongy part inside of her, Tess feels the pleasure mounting and she starts babbling, begging for Paige to give her what she needs, to finally give her some relief after being so high-strung for what feels like ages. Paige is all too content to give it to her, her head dipping down once more to wrap her lips around her clit. Paige is vocal against her cunt, moans of her own high-pitched and whiny, talking her through it with incoherent rambles. Her mouth and her fingers work her in tandem. Paige leads her higher and higher to her peak, and after one final well-timed brush, the pleasure crests and Tess’s orgasm washes through her.

Paige hums against her, pleased, working her through it until the aftershock tremors subside. Only when Tess gasps, far too overstimulated, does Paige slowly drag her fingers out, pressing one last kiss to her thighs. Tess sighs, sagging into the bed. Paige glances at her, her expression hazy and filled with undeniable smugness, fondness, and a lingering concern. “You good?” she asks, her voice rough.

At that, Tess can’t help but laugh, gazing up at Paige through hooded lids. “You just gave me the best head of my life and that’s what you have to say?” she asks weakly.

Paige rolls her eyes, rubbing her thigh gently with her clean hand. “I’on know what you want from me. You wanna high-five or sum’? Buy a cake to celebrate?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tess says, amused and somehow endeared. “I can’t believe this is who I just had sex with.”

Paige snorts. “I don’t remember you doin’ much of anything.”

Tess flushes. “First of all,” she begins, still a little breathless, “rude. Second of all… should I?”

“Nah,” Paige says, her entire demeanor shifting. “Uh, you don’t gotta worry about that.”

Tess stares at her long and hard, not quite understanding. It’s not until she notes the flush on Paige’s chest, the sweat beading at her temples, the way her boxers stick to her body that she finally understands. “Oh my God,” she says, much to Paige’s chagrin. “You–”

“Chill!” Paige exclaims, embarrassed. “You were makin’ all these noises. I couldn’t help it.”

They stare at each other for a few beats before they both dissolve into exhausted giggles. Tess feels slightly delirious, although part of her can’t believe she just did this with Paige. She doesn’t regret it. She doesn’t think she ever could.

“We should probably clean up,” Paige suggests.

Tess hums, stretching. “Give me like ten minutes,” she says. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Paige laughs smugly. “Yeah?”

Tess shakes her head, amused. “Shut up.”

“Alright,” she concedes, hooking one arm around Tess’s back and the other under her knees. Tess yelps in surprise as Paige lifts her easily, walking them both to the bathroom. “I’m tired. And your ass is not makin’ it ten more minutes.”

“You’re an asshole!” Tess exclaims as Paige turns on the shower, adjusting the heat. “But true.” With one last smile, Paige helps her into the shower and they wash up together. It feels so incredibly domestic, but Tess isn’t complaining. She’s not going to allow her brain to ruin this night for them, not when everything leading up to it has been nothing short of perfect.

They’re well past sleepy when they finally make it out of the shower, redressing in sleep attire. Paige checks out the blankets, getting rid of the soiled ones and grabbing fresh ones from the closet. Soon, she and Tess are collapsing into bed, seconds away from passing out entirely, but Paige reaches for her instantly. She curls into her body, her arm wrapping around Tess’s middle. She brushes her lips against her temple. “Happy New Year’s, Tess,” she whispers, her tone fond.

Tess can only muster an exhausted smile, squeezing her hand as she whispers back, “Happy New Year’s, Paige.”