#los angeles plays itself
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sesiondemadrugada · 1 year ago
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Los Angeles Plays Itself (Thom Andersen, 2003).
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lesbiancolumbo · 2 years ago
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Los Angeles Plays Itself (2003, Thom Andersen)
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introspect-la · 1 year ago
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LOS ANGELES PLAYS ITSELF (2003)
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alexa-santi-author · 6 months ago
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I had a chance to see Thom Andersen’s classic documentary/filmed essay Los Angeles Plays Itself and now I have a long list of movies to see. The film is very long (nearly three hours) and is very much a meditation on how the idea of “Hollywood” has taken over what the city is actually like, how diverse it is, and where the cultural cracks are. One of the reasons it’s so long is that he builds his case so carefully. He makes a special point of highlighting Black and Native American/American Indian directors and films I’d never heard of who made films about Los Angeles.
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stuff-i-watched · 11 months ago
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Los Angeles Plays Itself / 2003 — IMDb, TMDb
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schlock-luster-video · 11 months ago
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Wishing a happy birthday to countercultural film icon and Zabriskie Point star Daria Halprin.
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bens-things · 2 years ago
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Los Angeles Plays Itself (2003) dir. Thom Andersen
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elflutter · 2 months ago
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— absolution
logan howlett x chubby!reader | part two of salvation | ao3
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synopsis:
Logan would worship your body for hours if you’d let him. He can’t help but prolong your pleasure before finding his own. He once told you that it’s because you deserve it so much more than he does.
warnings: explicit (minors dni), worst!wolverine, fem!reader, body worship, unprotected piv, established relationship, domestic fluff, porn with feelings so many feelings
wordcount: 1.6k
notes: thank you so much for the response on salavation omg?? i kind of love playing with the idea of logan's self loathing manifesting itself in softness once you crack his hard exterior, and i played with that idea even more in this part! i hope you love it :')
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You taste yourself as you share a languid kiss with Logan. He always said he was made to kill. As his calloused hand cups your breast, you know he was made for this. You feel his clothed bulge press against your wetness. You can feel how he wants you. And you’re sure he can smell how you need him. You moan into his lips.
“Logan, please—”
“Anything you need, angel.” Logan traces the planes of your face as he grinds softly into you. “I’d burn the fuckin’ world for you, y’know that?”
You arch your back into him.
“I’d never—” you whimper as he rubs against your clit just right. His motions and his admission have you writhing with want.
“I’d never ask you to,” Your answer comes out panted. His thumb trails across your lower lip.
“Mmm, baby.” Logan dips his head into the crook of your neck, his words ghosting along your skin. His hips still. “That’s why I love you.”
Your fingers find his cheek, urging him to look at you. He smells like cedar and cigar smoke and you.
In your months together, he has been slow to say those words out loud. He shows his love by learning your favorite drink. By being there the second you’re off work to walk you home. By bringing you pleasure you never even thought imaginable. Your heart beats like a caged bird inside your chest.
“I love you too, Lo.”
His smile could outshine the sun. You think that must be why he always keeps it hidden away. He pulls back, placing a hand on the lush folds of your belly. Butterflies flutter to life beneath his touch.
“Need you to fuck me now,” you whisper.
There is no command in your voice, but Logan moves like he’s bound to obey. He rises himself off you and makes quick work of his pajama pants and underwear. His gaze is heavy, eyes never leaving yours. Your body is cold without his warmth above it.
Logan settles atop you again, his cock pressed into the bedsheets as he leaves a trail of kisses across your thighs and tummy. You pull at his hair impatiently.
“Up here, Lo.”
He smiles to himself. Logan would worship your body for hours if you’d let him. He can’t help but prolong your pleasure before finding his own. He once told you that it’s because you deserve it so much more than he does.
Logan climbs back up so your faces are level, his body ever a hairs-breadth above your own. He loves how his cock rests against your sweet tummy. A sharp breath escapes your lips as he grinds against your core, feeling how slick you are for him.
Your nerves are on fire as he presses a finger inside you, curling it just right. You let out a needy whimper. You think your arousal mixed with how Logan absolutely salivated over your cunt, he doesn’t even need to prep you for his size. But the care he treats you with always takes your breath away. How could anyone ever feel let down by this man?
As his finger starts to move inside you, your walls flutter around it. He is already filling you up so perfectly but you need more.
Logan’s breath is hot on the shell of you ear, nipping and sucking on it as he fucks you with a single finger. Between nibbles, words fall from his lips.
“Love feeling you, baby. Can’t wait to be inside. Fuckin’ perfect for me. Don’t deserve you for a second.”
You want to protest, to tell him that he’s wrong. Want to say that he deserves everything you can give and more. But all that comes out is a whimper as his thumb strokes your clit and his finger pumps inside you.
He pulls you to the edge of your pleasure. Your climax builds and builds in your belly until your eyes roll back in your head and you cry his name like a mantra. When Logan pulls his finger out you feel yourself pulse around nothing.
“Need you inside, baby. Now.”
You’re practically begging but you don’t care. Logan hollows out his cheeks as he sucks his finger clean, savoring the taste of you.
“I know, pretty angel. Had to get you ready for me. Don’t wanna hurt you. Don’t ever wanna hurt you.”
“Won’t hurt me, Logan. You were made for me.”
Your breath hitches as he finally positions himself at your entrance. He holds the back of your head as he slowly pushes into you. He stretches you so deliciously, his cock brushing against that perfect spot as he finally sheaths himself to the hilt.
Logan is drunk on how your soft walls part just for him. His thrusts are languid, arm canted above your head so he can watch your pretty expressions while he fucks you. Your eyes flutter shut, and you are lost in the moment as he takes you soft and deep. Your tighten around him, and Logan feels it deep in his core. He knows if he was a lesser man, in this moment, he would chase his own climax. But somehow, you have made a good man out of the worst Wolverine. Your pleasure is his penance. You are his absolution. With every release, you wipe away his sins so he can begin again. His pace remains tender. His body is a vessel bringing you ever closer to the precipice for the third time tonight.
Your body is alight as you reach your peak. Your whimpers are the sweetest music to Logan as you come undone on his cock. His hand works at your breast as he gently fucks you through your orgasm.
“Logan, baby.” Your hand cups his jaw, rough stubble prickling beneath your touch. His hips continue their lazy rhythm, and you want to be joined like this forever. “Feels so good,” you whisper. “So good.”
After years of insults hurled and glares thrown like daggers, your praise sends shivers down his spine. He just hopes he deserves it.
Your arms wrap around his chiseled shoulders, the softness of your form so different to his. He loves feeling you against him like this, every curve like a song as he makes love to you.
“You’re perfect, baby. You’re everything. Everything,” Logan breaths. He is never so soft as he is with you beneath him. You sand down every rough edge until he is the man he knows you deserve.
Your fingers snake their way into his hair, pulling ever so slightly.
“Come for me, Lo. Want it inside. Please.”
Who am I to deny a goddess?
His pace quickens and his breath ghosts across your skin. Your fingers map each muscle on his back, each scar. Electricity ignites beneath your touch until it’s too much, it’s too much and Logan finally lets go. His pumps slow as he spills inside you, your name leaving his lips in a wild pant. He savors how he is a part of you now, in his own small way, his soul entwined with your own.
His hips finally still. Lips steal yours in a ginger kiss before he pulls himself out of you. Easing down beside you, he coaxes you to lay atop his chest. Your plush form feels so perfect laying atop him, molding to him. He loves how soft you are. Loves this closeness, this intimacy. Sex was never so spiritual, so emotional for him—until he was buried deep inside you. From that moment on, he was bound to you.
Your hand traces the veins on his own until he lifts your joined palms and stares. In the back of his mind, he knows you’d look real sweet with a ring on your finger. But he’ll sort through that realization later. For now, he savors this moment with you, his happy ending. He brings your hand to rest atop his heart.
“This belongs to you, Princess. It all belongs to you.” He murmurs as you feel his heartbeat beneath your touch.
You laugh a little, head resting against his chest.
“If everything belongs to me, I think that makes me Queen.”
“You’re more’n a queen to me, sweetheart. You’re divine.”
You press a soft kiss to his chest before laying your head back down to listen to his heartbeat. He can feel your cheek heat where it is pressed to his chest. A swell of pride, that he can do that to you even when he doesn’t have his mouth or his cock buried between your legs. His hand finds your hair in a tender caress.
“Want this forever, Lo,” you muse aloud.
He still can’t believe that out of everyone in the world, you’d choose a fuck-up like him. The worst Wolverine. But damn, if he isn’t happy you do. He’d die before he left your side.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
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a/n: i'm so weak for logan it makes me look STUPID!! please let me know what you think EEE i so hope i did this idea justice!! and apologies for getting carried away with the prose let me live my madeline miller dreams tyvm
writing this was such a practice in self love! i hope this fic made you love your body a little more, bc i know it did that for me! :') i also ALWAYS intend to write inclusively for readers of color, so please please let me know if you came across any language that didn't feel that way!
lovely divider by saradika-graphics!
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taylorswiftstyle · 10 months ago
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66th Annual Grammy Awards | Los Angeles, CA | February 4, 2024
Schiaparelli gown
In my eyes, a Schiaparelli look should be an uncontested slam dunk. So for this look to, in my opinion, not fly quite as high as befits the beautiful work of Daniel Roseberry is almost a greater disappointment than an average look on its own. To opt for a designer that is known for its surrealism and its beautifully eerie ethereal strangeness but to tamp it down to what I mistook as a Vivienne Westwood gown and strip it of any possible Schiaparelli beautiful weirdness feels like a huge missed opportunity. Especially when it could have really been magical and interesting and a fashion risk for Taylor.
But I also understand that she had a vision. And she molded the designer to fit her and that vision.
It’s a look that I feel falls on an Easter Egg’s sharpened sword. The draping akin to tangled bedsheets, the Victorian cameo-esque appearance of the watch choker from afar, the dramatic opera gloves, the corset back, and the black and white colour scheme feel pulled from (or inspired by) what we now know is the forthcoming album formerly known as ‘TS11’: Tortured Poets Department. And if Taylor’s admission that this project has been in the works for the last two years is anything to go by, it also throws into sharp relief the schoolgirl plaids, the dark academia loafers, and the shadowy colour palette her street style has often centered on in recent months. 
There are so many beautiful elements to pull apart here that feel sacrificial in the name of early evocation of what could be a scholarly-sounding (or perhaps sapient-sounding) album based on the cover and intro language. The gown has a beautiful shape (the waist cinching!) and is a fascinating colour choice that could read suffragette or bride depending on who’s asked (and isn’t that in itself an intentional diametric “Lavender Haze” worth dissecting?). But the black accessories (presumably in service of Tortured Poets) overcooks it. I think a low bun, single strand of diamonds, and closed toe pumps could have gone a long way in styling (I’ll let the trendy gloves stay - in combination with the white gown they’re giving Princess Kate at the BAFTAs, no?). 
The biggest point of all is that Taylor understands the connect between her music and her style (I should know - I spend 350+ pages talking about it in my upcoming book Taylor Swift Style: Fashion Through the Eras). She also understands the role her style plays in cementing moments in her career to milestones. This moment. This gown. It joins a trio of looks as her most memorable and significant: her AOTY wins. This look will forever be enshrined in slideshows depicting the new precedent she has set for any artist - male or female. And what a win it is for an album I love so much. Knowing that, it feels even more fascinating to me that she’d use this moment as a bridge to another project and not honouring the album in question. 
Worn with: Lorraine Schwartz jewelry and Giuseppe Zanotti heels
Photos by Matt Winkelmeyer and Gilbert Flores via Getty Images
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lovecla · 2 months ago
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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.
chapter seven:
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<last chapter> <next chapter>
➴ chapter warnings: mention of depression/depressive episodes, calories, bad relationship with food and shitty family, hurt/comfort.
➴ word count: 2.3k
💌 from me to you: and now, TYPA has officially surpassed IYLMLMK word count!! how are we feeling about that? i’m feeling like the world’s biggest yapper ever but i just feel like quinn and maddie’s relationship reaches a whole other level of love and intimacy and i want u guys to feel that. by the end of this story, please let me know (hah) if i reached my goal :) enjoy this chapter and ily all so much! wrote this while listening to madison beer and while it was raining, cannot think of a better combo. also, this chapter hurts and heals me at the same time, and i hope it does the same to you.
౨ৎ
2024, MAY.
“THIS ISN’T much casual of us, is it?” you joke as you leave the car, opening the back door so you could get Bella while Quinn got your bags.
“Where’s the fun in being casual?” he jokes back, making you bite your lips, trying to hide your smile.
You and Quinn had decided to start over again, and take it easy. You were best friends and he knew you like no one else, but you grew up and, even if you didn’t want to admit it, you’d changed.
When he suggested that you go out for date nights and things people do whenever they want to be with someone, you thought that it would be a great idea. Spending time with him was one of your favorite things about living in Vancouver, so there was nothing to worry about.
Until he started to ask questions– nothing unexpected, just things like “is your favorite color still blue?” (no, I prefer purple now,) or “do you still like chocolate chip pancakes?” (more than I like myself, really,). And in the beginning it hadn’t bothered you, no, it had actually made you feel happy, wanted.
Until you remembered who you’d become.
After he and his family left, it was just you and your thoughts alone with each other, both wanting to run away but stuck inside your head. It was the things you heard from your mom, the fact that she liked to remind you that you were nothing but a shadow inside your own family and unless you were perfection itself, you wouldn’t have anything more than what she was willing to give you.
It was hearing your father, who barely spoke to you, yell at you for the tiniest things and look at you like you were the worst thing that has ever happened to him.
It was watching Peter, who once had been your best friend, your rock, your safe person, distancing himself from you, ignoring you whenever you spoke to him, leaving the sink full of dishes whenever that housekeeper wasn’t around because he knew you’d be the one cleaning them.
It was too much, and you were only fifteen. You were alone, with nothing but your thoughts and the intense, obsessive stalking of Quinn’s Instagram account, trying to understand why it was so easy for people to leave you behind.
But you didn’t blame him, or your family, how could you? It was all your doing. Maybe if you hadn’t spent too much time at the Hughes’ house, maybe if you hadn’t asked Peter to play with you so much, maybe if you were thinner and more like the models that worked at your mom’s magazine, maybe if you had been born a boy who also went to Med school, like your brother, then maybe, just maybe, things would’ve been different.
And then you moved to Los Angeles and just when you thought that things would get better, that you would get better, it all starts again. The dark days where you couldn’t do anything besides laying on your bed all day, sleeping for hours and eating perhaps a single meal per day– when and if you managed to get out of bed.
Showering became a dreadful thought because just the idea of seeing yourself in the mirror made you want to disappear. Realizing that the girl who once loved everything she touched, the girl that wore her heart outside of her body like an accessory turned into this lifeless body that rotted in bed for days made your stomach hurt and the tears run down your face.
Nicholas had been the one who helped you get out of that dark, evil place your mind had trapped you in, even when he didn’t know the reason behind it. He suggested that you should adopt a dog, the idea initially making you laugh because “I don’t want to can barely take care of myself, Nicholas, why should I adopt another living being?”. But he said that maybe you just needed a reason to keep going, and a pet could be one.
You ignored his advice, because it sounded ridiculous to you. But, one day, when you were on your way home from work, you walked past a shelter and decided to just take a look– leaving an hour later after a long cuddle session with the old dogs and Bella in your arms, eyes wet with tears when you noticed her sitting by herself, alone.
I know what it feels like, you answered when one of the workers asked you what made you choose her.
And she helped you get better, day by day, week after week. You finally spoke more than five words a week and you weren’t sleeping by yourself for the first time in years.
It felt nice to take care of someone.
But even though you got better, some days that sad, ugly feeling still made your skin crawl and your head hurt. It still came back, it still made you feel like shit.
And you didn’t want people to see that, you didn’t want Quinn to see that.
You knew that he would worry and try to find a way of helping you, just like he did whenever you had a sad day when you were younger, but you couldn’t do that to him, it wasn’t fair.
Besides that, you’re going to leave Canada in September. This thing you had going on with Quinn, no matter how happy it made you, was temporary, it wasn’t meant to last forever.
So you had to make sure that the time you spent with him was anything but perfect.
“This is so pretty” you compliment the cabin he had rented for the weekend, your first weekend off ever since you started working with your favorite brand, watching Bella roll on the green grass. “Feels like a movie.”
Quinn chuckles, opening the door for you and Bella before he gets inside with your and his bags.
If you thought the outside was pretty, the inside was ten thousand times better. The interior was a mix of stone with dark wood, the walls covered with floor to ceiling windows and the floor filled with fluffy, warm rugs. The living room couch could perfectly fit twenty people, and the kitchen had the most beautiful view you’d ever seen.
Bella started running around the second you unleashed her, jumping on the couch and sniffing the rugs, going upstairs and barking happily.
“I think Bella also likes the place,” you smile, getting closer to Quinn and kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer before initiating a sweet, gentle kiss, briefly caressing your tongue with his. He tasted like coffee and toothpaste, a weird mixture that you couldn’t get enough of.
“Don’t need to thank me, sweets,” he whispers against your lips before giving you a peck. “I asked the owners to fill up the pantry with baking stuff. I know you like to bake when you’re stressed.”
Your first instinct was to deny that you were stressed and say that you were just fine, but as always, he could see right through you. It had been a stressful week, with weird schedules and locations, besides getting used to living in another city, again.
But you thought you were doing a great job at hiding your true feelings from Quinn.
Well. Maybe not.
“I’m much better now,” you answer, not exactly lying. You are much better now. “But I guess it won’t hurt to bake a pie or two.”
“Great.” He hugs you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Let’s organize our things, and you’re free to go.”
You smile, excited to forget about your responsibilities for two days straight.
౨ৎ
BAKING FOR Quinn was now your favorite activity.
He didn’t try to get in your way like most people do whenever they see someone cooking, no. He sat on one of the stools and played with Bella while you explained to him the steps for baking the most perfect blueberry lattice pie in the entire world.
You noticed something while spending these past few weeks with Quinn: whenever you were around him, it was like calories and dieting didn’t matter. It was almost as if that voice that lived inside of your brain, who liked to remind you that you shouldn’t, couldn’t gain weight— because then you wouldn’t be perfect, the only thing your mom wanted for you— vanished, and only nice thoughts remained.
You have read about this before, in books and posts online— about people getting better because of other people. And even though you knew it was possible for someone to enjoy living again because of something (it happened with you and Bella), the thought of getting better because of another person hadn’t crossed your mind before having Quinn back in your life again.
It was nice.
The pie was ready after an hour and a half, looking deliciously tasty and perfect, which made you smile and snap a bunch of pictures of it.
You and Quinn sat down at the living room table, watching the sun setting through the windows and arguing with each other about which place had the nicest sunset: Vancouver or Los Angeles. You cut him a slice, which earned you a quick peck on your lips and a raspy thank you, watching as he munched on the pie, satisfied with his pleased reaction.
“This is my first time eating blueberry pie ever since you left.”
Quinn’s statement makes you pause, fork mid air, a slice of pie falling back onto your place.
You frown, confused. “What do you mean? You spent the last seven years without eating your favorite pie? Why?”
“What made this pie my favorite one was the fact that you were the one baking it,” he laughs humorlessly, staring at the half eaten slice on his plate. “When my mom tried making it for me a few years ago, I ended up snapping at her and earning a slap from my dad.”
“That wasn't very nice of you,” you chuckle, putting the fork down. “But I get what you mean. After you left I–” I stopped caring about everything else. “I stopped baking. Mom didn’t appreciate how caloric my food was and my dad—” he called my cooking disgusting once. “Well, he’s not a fan of sweets.”
“I’m sorry.” He apologies, and you’re not even sure why.
“What? No, it’s fine, you didn’t do anything wrong by leaving—”
“I meant I’m sorry about your family.”
You stare at him, fighting back the tears that immediately formed in your eyes. Blinking them away, you shrug.
“It’s fine.”
“It isn’t, Maddie, and you know it.” He grabs your hand underneath the table, running his thumb up and down on the back of your hand, the familiar touch making you smile.
“They’re the only family I have,” you tried to sound playful, only being half successful. “It’s alright, Quinny, I swear. Besides, we’re not here to talk about my family.” you change the topic quickly, not wanting to ruin the vibe with stories about your not so happy family.
He raises his right eyebrow at you. “Then why are we here?”
“Bella, look at him asking dumb questions,” you turn around, talking to Bella who was currently extremely busy destroying her carrot shaped toy on the carpet. “We’re here to watch my favorite movies and drink hot chocolate.”
“It’s May,” he points out.
“And?”
“It’s almost summer. No one drinks hot chocolate in May,”
“Oh my God, should we call the police? Should we invite Willy Wonka?” you laugh, getting off the chair. “Come on. I know you want it.”
“Do I at least get to choose the movie?” he theatrically sighs, also getting off the chair and following you around the gigantic cabin.
“I’ll see what I can do for you.”
You end up letting him choose the movie while you prepared the hot chocolate, which later you would regret, because he had chosen The Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, a movie that you had never seen before and will probably never watch again.
You were sitting beside him, trying your hardest to hide your tears and sniffles, because, surprisingly, Quinn looked like he was enjoying the depressing, extremely sad movie.
But you probably weren’t doing a great job because— “Baby?”
You only hum, hiding your face in your knees.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” he whispers, changing his position on the couch, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to his chest, adjusting your body so you were lying on top of him, face buried in his neck. “There’s no need for you to cry, baby.”
“‘M sorry,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed and somewhat childish for breaking out like this in front of him, when he was clearly enjoying the movie.
“What are you sorry for? There’s nothing wrong with crying because you’re sad,” he kisses your temple, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling one of your thighs up, fitting you perfectly against him. “I should be the one saying sorry. I saw Jim Carrey and thought the movie was going to be funny.”
You let out a wet chuckle, inhaling his comforting scent and wishing you could stay like this forever.
He runs his thumb on your cheeks, wiping the tears away. You feel him moving around and suddenly the movie’s sounds stop, and you wonder what he’s doing, too lazy to look up and see it for yourself.
But after Mabel’s characteristic laugh, you find yourself smiling and lifting your head to stare at Gravity Falls playing on the huge TV.
“Do you still like this dumbass cartoon?” Quinn asks, making you smile wider.
“It’s not dumb. And, yeah, it’s still my favorite.”
“Good.”
After that you both stay quiet for a long time, the only sounds coming from Bella’s snores, the TV, and occasionally, your laugh.
Quinn knew exactly what to do with you, even when not even you knew what had— needed— to be done. He held you close that night and your heart felt lighter and steadier.
You wanted to be his.
So. Bad.
౨ৎ
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liked by vic_alonso, justinbieber, lhughes_06 and 701,013 others
madisoncarter spring day
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user1 ?????????
user1 MADISON WHAT THE HELL
vic_alonso Oooooh myyy goddd
maddiecarter_updates Is this a soft launch? What?
user2 maddiecarter_updates you know shit is bad when even maddiecarterupdates is confused 😭
user3 let’s not assume things guys omg leave her alone
user7 madison you’re going to get fatter with all these carbs xx
jackhughes user7 fuck off.
user4 GUYS LOOK AT QUINN’S STORY
user5 user4 LMFAO THEYRE NOT EVEN HIDING IT
user6 user4 I’m losing the idgaf war…
user8 user4 DID YOU GUYS SEE JACK’S COMMENT WHICH ONE OF THE HUGHES IS SHE BANGING
_quinnhughes added a new story!
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taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎
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strawberrychampagneglass · 3 months ago
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Roses - pt. 1
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Paige x Azzi
CW: cursing, implications of domestic violence (ONLY AT THE END), angst, maybe some fluff?, pining
9.3k words DAMN
A/N: holy shit guys I did not think I could pull this off and to think that this is gonna be a series is wild to me. Jokes aside, this took me about 2.5 weeks so expect (somewhat) infrequent updates due to school work and all that. Ik y'all have been waiting so I'll drop the first chapter. Something to be mindful of: initially this thing was in GSV then I changed it to LA last minute and then I changed Nika to Cam and Gabby to Dearica because Gabby and Nika didn't make sense to me at all so yea enjoy AND PLEASE DO GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I appreciate it a lot I WILL ADD A MASTERLIST WHEN MY HEART COMPELS ME TO
October 15th, 2028
Los Angeles, California
“Azzi,” her urgent voice calls out to the dark. She nearly trips over the entrance mat as she enters her apartment in the early morning hours. She drunkenly yells for her again as she stumbles towards her bedroom. 
The only response she gets is an echo of her voice.
She lands in her bed with a soft thud, her hand searching for the familiar warmth of another body. When she feels the cold bed sheet under her hand instead, the only thing she can hear is the hammering inside of her head while her heart throbs, threatening to pry itself out of its cage. Tears well in her eyes as she falls asleep. 
When she wakes up and checks her phone, she has one notification: a text message from Curt Miller. While it makes her heart palpitate as she remembers the happy memories, alarms blare in her head, reminding her of the bad that outweighed the good. 
Her excitement quickly turns to bitterness. Paige doesn’t want to play on the same team as Azzi. Not after the incident in her redshirt senior year. Not after their catastrophic argument at the 2025 WNBA draft. Not after she saw a new person with her Azzi. Not after she saw the diamond-studded ring on her fourth finger. 
Most of all, not after she built a stronghold with the most formidable defenses around her heart. 
July 29th, 2018
Minsk, Belarus 
The Belarusian crowd roars during the FIBA U17 Women’s Basketball World Cup final, drowning out the melody created by a screeching flute and deep, dulcet drum. With a very comfortable 32 point lead against the French in the middle of the fourth quarter, Paige is subbed out. She accepts the high-fives from her teammates before taking a seat at the end of the bench. Cheers flood the bench while they watch the clock wind down intently, waiting to relish in the intoxicating adrenaline following the victory. 
The blonde raps her foot against the floor anxiously; her jaw propped up by her clenched fists. From the point of view of her teammates, she is engaged in the game. However, inside of her mind, a storm brews.  She thinks of her best friend, the brunette girl with the number 6 on her back who is sat two seats to her left. Paige indulges in the memory of her fingers lingering on Azzi’s for that extra second after a high-five, their intertwined hands during the national anthem, and even when their shoulders brushed together in the team huddles and neither of them moved.
Her mind continues to wander until the bench unexpectedly explodes with chants of “USA” as the clock winds down into the last minute of the game. Paige springs from her seat on the bench, hollering as the adrenaline pumps through every vein in her body. When the final buzzer sounds, she shakes hands with the opposing team before hurling herself into the sea of navy jerseys. 
The rest goes by in a blur, her adrenaline depletes rapidly. The energetic girl is uncharacteristically quiet during their team dinner and even on the bus ride home where she opts to sit alone in the back, leaning her head against the cool window that soothed her aching head. 
As the bus pulls up to the hotel, Paige and Azzi lock eyes from opposing ends of the bus. The fatigue she once felt is quickly replaced with delight when Azzi gives her a tired smile with softened eyes, making her heart beat erratically. It’s still early in the evening, but the team agrees to celebrate in Cameron Brink’s room, without the coaches’ knowledge. While the team shuffles off the bus in a single-file line, Paige pushes through the never-ending hoard of her teammates until her eyes rest on a familiar brunette. She puts her hand on the brunette’s cold shoulder, catching her attention as she leaned into the warmth of Paige’s hand. Azzi chooses to ignore the pink that rose to the older girl’s cheeks and smiles at her. 
“Are you going to Cam’s?” Paige asks sheepishly, trying to hide her smile. Azzi chuckles before responding with a nod. 
“She is my roommate, so I guess I’m obligated to go.” Paige grins from ear-to-ear as they chat until they reach their respective hotel rooms. She changes into sweatpants and opts for a Hopkins Basketball hoodie. Although it's the middle of summer, the temperatures in Minsk are frigid compared to the Minnesota heat. 
Furtively leaving her hotel room, she spots her teammate, Zia Cooke, attempting to sneak several bottles of cheap vodka into Cam’s room, her shoulders are tense and eyes rove across the empty hallway. Paige giggles before walking over to the shorter girl to offer a hand. When her teammate’s eyes land on her friendly face, the muscles in her shoulders loosen.
“Paige, thank god,” she breathes, relieved. “I was so scared that Carla or Stephen would jump out of their rooms.” Paige laughs at the image of Coach Berube catching Zia while looking like a deer in headlights, juggling 5 bottles of vodka. Feeling bad for her teammate, she takes three bottles from her arms and opens the door to Cam’s room. The two girls are met with 10 pairs of curious eyes who cheer at the sight of the vodka bottles.
***
An hour later, the potent odor of vodka floods the room. Most of her teammates gossip about their crushes back home; others watch the late-night shows on the Belarusian TV channels, a few are even snoring obnoxiously on Azzi’s bed. Paige, who is completely sober, feels irritated from her spot on the floor as she watches the dramatic show that is being projected on the TV. She isn’t sure if it was the lack of alcohol, or if it was the sight of her best friend who presses her body against Hailey Van Lith while an arm that wasn’t hers is strung around the brunette’s waist and resting on her toned abdominal muscles. 
When Azzi notices the blonde’s glare at Hailey, she walks off the bed and carefully treads towards the table of alcohol, pouring a full glass of vodka. Her eyes flick to Paige, who stares at the glass of vodka in her hand. Unamused and frustrated, Paige returns her attention to the show on the TV until she feels a warm hand tilt her chin back. Azzi looks at her, emotionless, as she stands behind her. They stare at each other wordlessly before the older head lands on a soft, toned leg. Her lower lip meets the cool rim of the glass that Azzi filled with vodka.
The brunette moves her face closer before she tips the glass upward while noticing a light streak of red across Paige’s cheeks. “Drink,” she whispers, and Paige complies. She feels the alcohol burn her esophagus as she swallows the oily and bitter liquid. Their faces linger in the close proximity as they breathe in synchronization. It takes every ounce of self control in Paige’s body to not close the distance between their lips. 
“You look pretty,” Paige smiles, hoping for a laugh and a friendly slap across the shoulder from her friend. Instead, Azzi returns a frown with furrowed eyebrows, moving her head away. 
“Paige, I can’t enjoy my evening when you’re glaring at everyone I’m sitting with,” Azzi huffs with an edge to her voice. “Go get drunk and leave me alone.” Paige scowls; she knows that Azzi isn’t exclusive to her, but she wants some exclusivity. At the end of the day, they’re just best friends, nothing more. Nevertheless, the thought of another girl’s body pressing her body flush against Azzi infuriates her. From her spot on the floor, she feels the warmth of her friend’s body disappear as she walks back to her spot next to Hailey. 
She grabs her wallet and phone and leaves the room. 
***
When she returns to her hotel room hours later, she slams the newly-bought bottle of vodka on her nightstand, shaking the entire room. It isn’t a big bottle; it’s around the size of a Gatorade bottle. The cashier at the convenience store didn’t bother checking the 16-year-old’s ID, assuming she was of legal drinking age. She popped the cap off the bottle and brought it to her mouth. Her lips begin to form a suction around the opening as she tilts her head back, swallowing the searing liquid. She throws the rest of the liquid down her throat when the thought of Azzi’s words cross her mind. She tightens her grip on the bottle and her tongue scours for the last few drops of the liquid, hungry for the feeling of the alcohol. She sits on her bed in silence, staring at her feet until she feels the effects of the alcohol course through her veins. Her vision begins to blur and the entire room begins to swirl. Through her blurred vision, she still manages to identify the lamp that sits perfectly still on the nightstand. Her free hand reaches for the dangling chain that serves as a lever for the light. Giving it a slight tug, the light flickers briefly before illuminating the entire room. To her shock, a familiar brunette girl with bronze skin sits across from her.
“Are you done being an alcoholic so we can talk?”
“Azzi, what the fuck?” the blonde stammers, frustrated. She sets the bottle down and stares at her friend in disbelief. When Paige gets no response from her, she stands up and starts stumbling towards the door, nearly tripping over herself.
“Paige, wait,” Azzi catches the blonde, observing the older girl’s cloudy eyes. Even while drunk, her blue eyes remind her of her lake house; her second home. The thought makes her heart flutter despite the agonized look painted across her best friend’s entire face. “I’m sorry, we can talk about this if you want. I know I hurt you, and I take full accountability for it.” 
Paige knows she is in damage control mode, but she has a soft spot for the girl; a part that is willing to forgive her and move on. 
She chooses to ignore it and let her irritation control her words. “You didn’t want to talk before, so you don’t get to talk now,” she hisses. Azzi flinches, unaccustomed to her hostility. “You told me to leave you alone, and now you’re in my room, begging for forgiveness. I don’t understand you.” Her arms fly erratically before reaching the collar of her hoodie, tugging it down to ease her tense muscles.“For god’s sake, we’re best friends. Sure, best friends tell each other everything, but my best friend doesn’t get to tell me to leave her alone and show up in my hotel room 2 fucking hours later.”
“I’m not yours, Paige. You don’t have any right to control my actions.” The retort makes Paige wince. “If I want to be with Hailey, you have to respect that. I have a right to be frustrated because I don’t belong to you.” 
“Okay, how about a heads up next time instead of you getting cozy with someone else in front of your best fucking friend. I thought we agreed that we would ‘see each other later’” 
“She was drunk and she came up to me, and we did see each other. There was nothing binding about that agreement. I can be friends with other people and you can too, unless I’m your only friend.” Azzi’s anger rises as well as she picks at her cuticles. 
“You’re an asshole.” Paige breathes, releasing the hoodie. “You tried to get me drunk while trying to seduce me.” The other girl’s mouth opens before getting cut off. “Then, you went back over and cuddled up to her. I don’t have a problem with you seeing people, but even a short-term notice would’ve been nice. It’s fucking awkward when I’m sitting there–surrounded by drunk people who are all passed out on the damn floor–and my best friend is cuddling up to a person we barely even know.” 
“You know what? You sound really fucking insecure right now. Maybe you should go book a flight back to fucking Minnesota and we’ll never have to see each other again. You’ll never get jealous over me when I go on dates with other people.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she wishes that she can take them back and shove them down her throat. Paige stares at her, emotionless. After a few minutes, Azzi’s voice cuts through the thick air. “Say something, please. You’re freaking me out.” 
“I wish I was yours, Azzi,” Paige whispers softly, so softly that Azzi thinks she mishears. She scowls, but her heart flutters from the confession.
“I need you to tell me that when you’re completely sober. I can’t trust you when you’re drunk.” she sighs, looking at the blonde who has tears brimming in her eyes. However, she can’t shake the warm, fuzzy feeling in her heart from her words. She can’t describe the feelings, and the thought of treading into unexplored emotional territory makes her queasy. 
“I wish I was yours,” Paige urges, with genuine sincerity in her tone despite the alcohol.
“Paige–”
Before she could finish her sentence, Paige grabs her wrist and pulls the younger girl into her. The blonde drags her along a premeditated route, stumbling several times. Biting the nails on her free hand, Azzi’s mind swarms with endless possibilities of danger; they could be kidnapped by random Belarusians, the coaches could catch them while getting a midnight snack, or they could get lost and never see their families again. But Paige was Paige, guiding her to their destination. The warmth radiating from the other girl’s body hypnotized her. It felt safe. Too safe. 
Paige leads her through the maze of the city until they reach the edge of a river. Even under the late-night sky, airplanes weave between silhouettes of clouds; their green and red lights blink, bringing life to the sky. The city is calm and serene at this hour, with the occasional passer-byer that ignores the two girls. The solitude is disrupted by cars gliding across the bustling road across the river bank with horns that blare occasionally. Street lights hug the river bank; streaks of yellow and orange rippled back and forth on the water. The breeze is soft, like a baby’s blanket. It carries the occasional, faint scent of cigarette smoke which is unexpectedly comforting. 
The two sit in mutual silence, away from each other. They both avoided the topic of the prior conversation. Paige hums softly, her body warm from the alcohol. “I didn’t know they had fireworks this late at night.” Her speech is slurred, yet Azzi still laughs in response. The sound of her laugh is like a piece of music written by Beethoven to her; a sound that can be played over and over without getting old. 
“They’re not fireworks, they’re street lights reflecting off the water.” The blonde squints, squatting on the large cement block that she had been sitting on. As she cranes her head closer, nearly falling off the block, Azzi scrambles to catch the blonde as she reflexively yanks her waist backwards. They laugh before Paige puts her hand on hers. 
“You’re acting really sober,” Paige declares while studying Azzi’s facial features. 
“I am sober, so I think it’s a good thing that I’m acting sober.” The younger girl chuckles, punching her friend’s arm lightly with her free hand. Flustered, Paige averts her gaze to the shimmering undulations on the surface of the water. Unsure of whether it was the alcohol that was twisting her mind, or if it was the dim, golden lighting that lights up the left side of Azzi’s face, all she can think about is that her best friend is beautiful.  It drives Paige insane; her bronze skin gleams and her umber eyes light up and become a light, almost golden shade of brown. 
“Sometimes I wish that you could be in Minnesota with me all the time.” 
“Well, you could come to Virginia and stay with me…” Azzi proposes before smiling at Paige, but she doesn't meet her eyes. The blonde is scrunching her face with her attention on Azzi’s arms, and not her face. “What’s wrong? Paige?”
“You’re cold,” Paige whispers, shifting her weight so she and Azzi sit facing each other. Trailing her hand up the other girl’s arm, her fingertips dance along the mountain ranges of goosebumps on her tender skin. Paige’s warm touch makes her feel something. Their eyes clash, uncertainty swarming in both pairs. “I meant what I said earlier,” Paige glances at her lips, breaking the eye contact. “I wish I was yours.” Her hand reaches for Azzi’s cheek, cupping it lightly, and the brunette melts into her touch.
Panic rises as a lump in her throat. They’re young–too young. Azzi’s feelings are new and confusing. She doesn’t know what love feels like and it scares her. As a kid, she was told that “love” was when two people cared for each other a lot. It was obvious that they care for each other a lot. They talk for hours, each word flowing effortlessly while they howl in laughter about something that the other said. Every touch they share is electric: sparks fly erratically through every vein of their bodies. After every argument, Paige is the first to apologize because she knows that Azzi overthinks. 
She moves her face closer and drapes her hands on the blonde’s nape. Paige takes the bait.
Her slightly-parted lips meet Azzi’s warm and soft lips. She closes her eyes, pulling the younger girl’s face in before pulling away after several seconds. The kiss is short, but sweet. Azzi looks at her hands, not wanting to meet the blue eyes knowing that she made a mistake, and the kiss shouldn’t have happened. The once well-established boundaries of their friendship are permanently breached. Yet her cheeks flush and she misses the warmth provided by the close proximity of Paige’s body.
“Raise your arms,” Paige mutters shyly as Azzi is enveloped in the warmth of a thick hoodie. Paige’s hoodie. The scent of Paige’s rosy perfume encases her and a contented sigh escapes her lips. 
“Are you cold?” Azzi observed her best friend’s exposed arms. 
“Nah, I’m alright. You can keep that by the way,” she motions to the hoodie that hugged Azzi’s torso. “It can be a souvenir from Belarus from me. Something that can remind you of tonight forever.” The brunette smiles and wraps her arms around the blonde; she is the clay that Paige can shape into anything she wants. They just fit together. 
The girls dance through the city and totter unsteadily to the hotel, where they collapse in the comfort of Paige’s bed, satisfied laughs slipping out of their mouths after sneaking past the rooms of their teammates. 
“Would you like me to walk you back to your room, Madame Fudd?” Paige teases before a pillow slams into her face. “Hey! Azzi!” She shrieks, scrambling to grab another pillow before falling flat on her face. Azzi laughs hysterically for a few moments until the room stills into an unsettling quiet. 
“You’re so chivalrous, Bueckers.” Azzi looks around her room, fidgeting with her fingers. “But, uh, since there’s a few drunk bodies on my bed,” The blonde cocks her head at her and smirks; the simple motion makes her heart lurch. “And also because you also don’t have a roommate and I thought that you might be a little lonely tonight, especially because you’ll be hungover in the morning, I was wondering if I could stay here tonight.” Paige breaks out into an ear-to-ear grin and tackles her in a bear hug, shoving them to the bed where their bodies melded into each other. 
Amongst the clamor, there is an uneasy feeling in Paige’s gut that she can’t shake, but she chooses to ignore the feeling as she lets her body intertwine with the younger girl’s. 
October 19th, 2028
New York City, New York
Azzi is selfish. 
Anything she gets her hands on, she wants to keep for herself. She is a hoarder who wants to keep everything that she loves forever. 
Unfortunately, when you fall in love with everything, you can’t have it all.
She paces back and forth at the gate, biting her nails and avoiding the gaze of her fiancé. Tugging the collar of her hoodie from her high school days over her head, she allows a satisfied sigh to escape her mouth as she is cloaked with a comforting rose scent. It was nostalgic; it held so many memories that felt so important and so irrelevant at the same time. But the scent made her feel hopeful of something she couldn’t place. 
“Is everything okay, babe?” startled, she drops the hoodie to smile weakly at her fiancé.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little tired. The thought of everything scares me a little.” Azzi chuckles. Instead of a friendly smile from her fiancé, she notices his scowl at the text on her hoodie. Her heart drops into her stomach, knowing that this would prompt an argument from him over a certain college teammate. 
“I’m so happy you finally chose to leave the cesspool of New York,” her fiancé sneers, “and, I’m so excited to soak up the LA sun.” Azzi doesn’t react to his comments, avoiding an argument at all costs. He came to all her games and cheered her on, but he always hated New York City. It was either too cold or too hot, too rainy or too sunny and never the perfect balance between the two. 
As long as he’s happy, I am too. 
Los Angeles, California
Paige is protective. 
She loves her possessions and hates it when people take them. She wants to shield everything she loves from hurt and pain. 
Orange and pink rays of sunlight stream through the tall glass panes by Paige’s bedside, bathing her bedroom in a warm glow. She stirs awake, her sore body begging for 15 extra minutes of sleep. Her throat feels raw and her eyelids are weighted. Instead of fighting against the weight, Paige lets her eyes close while thinking about the consequences of not showing up to Azzi’s welcome party. When she first caught wind of the news, she called Cameron Brink to come to her apartment. She complained to her for hours while blackout drunk before inevitably passing out. When she woke up the next morning to dozens of angry texts from Cam, she apologized profusely, showing up to her apartment with the shoes that her friend had been eyeing for months and bags of Sour Patch Kids.
It was safe to say that Paige wasn’t allowed anywhere near alcohol tonight if she chose to go. At least, not under Cam’s watch. 
The Sparks had an extremely successful campaign last year and capped off the season with a championship title along with Paige’s first league MVP and finals MVP awards. The feeling is still surreal, and the thought of it pumps more adrenaline through her body. Even though the season was extremely successful, the threat of injuries plagued the guards last year. Also, the Sparks were in desperate need of a guard with the ability to knock down shots and step into the role of a strong playmaker.
Was she expecting Azzi to join the Sparks? Eventually, yes. She is desperate for a championship run. 
Did she want to celebrate a piece of her past she let go before her birthday? No. 
Is she happy about it? Absolutely not. 
Her phone began to vibrate violently under her pillow, prying her from her thoughts. She rolls over to scrutinize the contact name with a groan. Her blood runs cold and she taps the green phone icon on the 4th ring.
“Paige! Thank god I got in contact with you.” Katie Fudd exhales. Paige feels the weight of her panic that reciprocates her own through the phone. “I know we haven’t really talked in about, um, three years,” she pauses, unsure of how to continue when she hears Paige’s sharp inhale, “but, have you heard from Azzi recently? She’s supposed to be arriving in LA today, at least that’s what the media says.” 
“No, I…I haven’t heard anything, Katie,” she rasps, her throat ablaze. Her lips run dry. The media?
Paige makes small talk with Katie, catching up on major events in their life while both of them try to avoid the topic of Azzi. It was brought up once and Paige could barely perceive the muffled, yet pained sobs on the other end of the phone.
“I know you have your Unrivaled league coming up in the new year, but it would be great if you could come visit us during Thanksgiving or even Christmas,” Katie proposes as they near the end of their conversation. 
“I’ll take a look at my schedule and try to pull some strings, but no promises. I have plans to visit my dad and Drew over the Thanksgiving weekend in Maryland, so we’ll see what happens.” Paige replies, acknowledging the piece of her that wants to let the past go. The part where she was too close to Azzi and her family. She knows that visiting them means treading into foreign territory. 
“We miss you, Paige. Jon and Jose miss their ‘son’ too,” Katie laughs, relieving Paige of a heavy, bone-crushing weight on her heart. “Happy early birthday too, we could never forget. We love you, you’re still family to us.”
Paige smiles, a genuine ear-to-ear grin. “Love you too, Kaite. Tell the brothers and Tim I say hi as well.” She says before hanging up. 
“You’re still family to us.” The words rang in her head, warming her frozen heart. It wasn’t enough to thaw it, but it was enough to invoke thoughts of hope. She was torn from her reverie by a knock at her door. Humming to herself as she sauntered out of her bedroom, she opened the door to her apartment.
“Woah, I never thought I’d see you smiling like you’re on Disney Channel,” the blonde at the door laughs, surprised. Paige scowls at her words which prompts Cam to laugh harder. “I did bring breakfast though, knowing your current mental state. You look like shit, Paige.” She sets two paper bags on Paige’s kitchen island. They sit across each other on the spinning bar stools Cam loves. 
The two chat buoyantly; Cam tells her stories about her boyfriend, Ben, and his new obsession with cars or whatever. Paige doesn’t really pay attention to her rambling because of a painful ache in her heart. Even though it had been a year since Cam moved to Los Angeles, the two still learn new details about Over the past year, Cam used the fact that the shorter woman struggled to maintain a relationship for more than a few weeks as the butt of all her jokes. Despite being annoyed at first, Paige was quite amused with herself.
“Azzi’s mom called me earlier,” Paige abruptly says, interrupting Cam in her spiel about her brother’s recent breakup.
“...is that why you were smiling earlier? Paige, not even 5 days ago you made me-”
“From what I’ve…figured out, they haven’t been able to get in contact with Azzi. Katie seemed distraught when she accidentally brought her up.” 
“Are you implying that she got kidnapped?” Cam laughs uncomfortably, trying to avoid the weight of the situation. 
“It’s a possibility.” Paige mutters. Cam stops laughing and an uneasy silence drapes the room like a heavy curtain.
“I guess we’ll find out later, but don’t stress about it. You could be overthinking the entire situation. Don’t make that face, I know that you don’t want to go, but out of respect for your future teammate, you need to.” Cam sighs while rubbing circles on her temples. “I’m going to pick her and her supposed fiancé up at the airport. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Thanks for breakfast, Cam. Drive safe,” she calls out as the door to her apartment shuts. And suddenly, her mind is thrown back 5 years to the keychain that Azzi bought them in their early 20s as a gift. Drive safe, I need you here with me. I love you. 
***
“Azzi Fudd! This is Kendra Andrews with ESPN. What are your thoughts on the Sparks franchise?” 
“What prompted the move from New York to LA?” 
“How do you plan to integrate yourself into the team?” 
“What excites you the most about the LA Sparks franchise?”
Dozens of reporters and journalists surround her. They fight amongst each other to thrust microphones into her face. Sweat beads down the back of Azzi’s neck as she tries to answer as many questions as she can while being mindful of her fiancé’s limited patience. He had gone on his phone, ignoring Azzi as she drowns in a sea of cheap cologne and felt-tipped microphones. She quickly interrupts the reporters after 10 minutes and bid a polite farewell. Her heart stings with a bit of remorse when some of the reporters in the crowd express their frustration through whisper-shouts to their colleagues because they got a different answer than what they would’ve hoped. As she makes her way to her fiancé, her head hanging low, she mentally prepares herself for the incoming argument. 
“You’re a piece of shit,” her fiancé hisses, “you took ten fucking minutes to talk to some fans.”
“Please, not here. Not while the reporters are still around,” Azzi whispers, frantically scouting for reporters. 
“Save your bullshit for later. Call an Uber and get me out of here.” While leading her fiancé towards the airport exit, Azzi picks at her cuticles. “Oh, and next time,” her fiancé continues, “don’t be a pussy-sucking people pleaser and just give them an autograph. I don’t have the time for this, there are better things I should be doing that does not include waiting for you.” Tears begin to well but she blinks them back, trying to put up a facade for the public as she smiles half-heartedly for selfies. The lump in her throat threatens to roll out of her mouth. The thought of a night in the hotel sends a cold bead of sweat down her back. She doesn’t want to be left alone with her fiancé. She doesn’t trust him. 
A firm hand grabs Azzi’s wrist, pulling her back into the present. She rips her hand away reflexively before processing the familiar face that belonged to her temporary roommate in Belarus. For the first time since she left New York, Azzi breaks out in a full-faced smile and throws herself into Cam’s open arms.
Her mind wanders to the other future WNBA teammate, who she had not seen since the 2025 WNBA draft. The thought of her quickened her heart, but the feeling sours when she becomes aware of her fiancé by her side. 
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, oh my god,” Cam laughs, punching Azzi’s arm lightly, a gesture from her USA basketball days when Coach Berube made an off-handed comment. She flinches in response, which Cam chooses to ignore. “Oh, and you must be Azzi’s fiancé. I’ve heard so much about you, and it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Cam,” the blonde chirps, turning her attention to Azzi’s fiancé, offering a friendly smile and a hand. “I don’t think I ever got your name.” Her fiancé remains silent, but his jaw muscles tighten and his cold, green eyes look at her with animosity and spite. Not wanting to raise suspicion, Cam plasters a smile and leads them to her car.
Cam makes a mental note to tell Paige about their interaction with an emphasis on the flinch. 
“...This is the Uber you ordered?” her fiancé snarls when the other woman is out of earshot. 
“You need to calm down. She’s my teammate, and this is a thoughtful gesture,” Azzi retorts before covering her mouth. Her breathing becomes shallow and her face pales as her fiancé inches his face closer to her ear until his hot, rancid breath drowns out her awareness of everything around her. The hustling environment of the airport disappears and her world is engulfed in silence until four words snap her out of her trance. 
“Drop this shit, now.” 
***
The ride to the hotel where the two would be temporarily staying was brisk, although Azzi wished it would have lasted longer. The brunettes reminisced on their college days while laughing hysterically. 
“Have you talked to Geno after he finally retired?” Cam asks playfully, making eye contact with Azzi through the rear-view mirror. Instead of Azzi’s warm brown eyes, she meets her fiancé’s swampy green eyes. The blonde feels a chill run down her spine, unable to detect any emotion on the fiancé’s face. 
“Nope, not at all.” Cam raises her eyebrows, clearly amused. 
“Wow, it’s been two years since he retired. He even went to the draft to support you and, um, nevermind.” The blonde shakes her head, cursing to herself. Azzi laughs awkwardly, trying to lift the guilt off her friend’s shoulders, but her fiancé is unamused. “About time though, I thought that he nearly got a heart attack during the March Madness championship in 2025.” The two erupt in laughter, tears falling from their eyes. Her fiancé glares at Cam through the mirror, prompting her to awkwardly change the topic to the Sparks and their team culture. Azzi ignores the glare and continues her conversation with her friend. 
Her fiancé isn’t completely out of the loop despite his apathy towards Azzi’s WNBA career. He knows who Paige Bueckers is, the national championship they won in 2025, but he only vaguely knows about the relationship that she and Azzi shared during their collegiate campaigns. If their relationship was an iceberg, her fiancé only sees the tip of the iceberg, the visible part that the media shared, the two in a million SLAM cover, their rise to stardom in USA U16 basketball, and most importantly, their adversities through injury together. What she doesn’t know is the true depth and complexity of their relationship, veiled beneath a thick layer of dark, murky water that neither she nor Paige are ready to uncover. As their lives began to diverge, so did the currents in the water; they pushed and pushed on their relationship until it came crumbling down, splitting the iceberg into two parts that are now just Azzi and just Paige. 
Thanking Cam as they slip out of the car, Azzi checks into the hotel room where she and her fiancé sit on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. Her head hangs and she looks at her hands before her fiancé breaks the silence first.
“Hey,” he sighs, walking over to Azzi. When she lifts her head to meet her fiancé’s eyes, branches of tears stream from her eyes and down her cheeks, splitting into multitudes of different directions. 
“Am I not good enough for you? One moment you hate me, and the next you’re suddenly in love with me again.” Azzi sobs, pulling her hair in frustration. “I’m trying my hardest, and it hurts when you don’t reciprocate the feelings.” She wipes her eyes while her fiancé stares at her in disbelief, masking his anger. He paces to the door before walking back to Azzi, feigning an empathetic look. 
“No, baby, you’re perfect.” Her fiancé mutters , pulling the brunette’s head to his chest as he kisses her forehead softly while wiping her tears. “I love you so much. I appreciate everything you do.” Azzi could feel that his words felt wrong and uncomfortable coming out of his mouth. 
“Love you too”
***
Paige walks in circles around her room while Cam summarizes the airport pickup, sprawled out on the blonde’s bed. “You didn’t even get his name. Damn.” Paige’s voice is laced with worry. 
“All you need to know is that her fiancé is fucking weird. He was like ‘I’m so sick of this bullshit’ the whole time without speaking a single word. I introduced myself to him like a normal fucking person and he stood there and stared me down, as if I was competition or something.” Cam breathes, putting her face in her hands. Paige feels the same, unable to piece together the puzzling situation. “This whole situation is  crazy. I was talking about Geno’s retirement and she hasn’t talked to him in years. Isn’t that weird? I feel like he’s also the jealous type. She wore your Hopkins hoodie and her fiancé kept eyeing it the whole time.”
Paige’s heart skips a beat at her words. Her Hopkins hoodie. The one from the night in Belarus: even though it had been over 10 years, Paige remembers it clearly. It was the first time she was in love. “That’s weird. You picked them up from the airport, and he was glaring at you the entire time in the car. Then, you- like, jokingly punched her. How hard was this punch?”
“KK-punching-Ice-after-losing-a-bet-about-your-life hard.” 
“Okay, so not that hard.”
“I’m pretty sure I heard her fiancé call her a stuck-up pussy eater while they argued about the reporters before I picked them up.” Paige raises an eyebrow at the statement before coughing awkwardly, mumbling under her breath.
“Just– be careful Paige. She isn’t yours anymore. I know you’re still not over her,” She winces at her friend’s words, “and it’s the harsh truth, but I seriously think that you need to find someone else to distract you.” 
“We both know that finding someone else hasn’t worked for me either. I’m worried about her. She’s my best friend, my ride or die.”
“She betrayed you. You need to move on. Best friends don’t betray each other like… that.”
***
Flanked by her fiancé, Azzi walks through the large, wooden doors of the restaurant next to her hotel. It was a short walk, but she took in the salty smell of the city. The breeze was sharp and it nipped her exposed arms. She was shivering and rubbing her hands up and down her arms. 
“You must be Ms. Fudd,” the waitress waiting for her arrival smiles at her, “your table is over here, please follow me.”  The short walk through the labyrinth of tables set with velvety red cloths that had a golden trim on its edges was interrupted by a crimson-colored curtain. The chatter behind the curtains feels daunting, and she wants to turn around and run back to Arlington. The waitress pulls the curtain to the side to reveal a table full with people, her teammates, laughing and talking boisterously amongst themselves. The first person to stand up is Cam, who embraces her in a loose hug. Seconds later, nearly all of her new teammates have thrown themselves into her arms.
The last person to stand up is the blonde. Her wavy, blonde hair, lighter from the Californian sun, is tucked behind her ears and falls down her back like a loose shawl. Her skin glows gold against the yellow lighting of the dining room. She wears a freshly ironed button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose her toned forearms. Only the right side of her shirt was tucked into her brown trousers that hang loosely from her hip, ghosting her ankles. A beige bomber jacket that matches her pants is slung around her shoulders and a watercolor-patterned scarf is draped around her neck. The gold studs and helix ring on her left ear reflect the light of the chandelier that hangs from chains above the dining table. When their eyes meet, Azzi searches her eyes for a sense of comfort in her familiar blue eyes that her dark mascara emphasizes. Instead, she finds nothing in her cold and emotionless eyes. Paige embraces her new teammate in a stiff and loose hug, her muscles tense when Azzi’s hands roam her back. Immediately, she is engulfed in her rosy perfume, the same scent that she finds solace and comfort in. Her stomach churns, yet there is a certain warmth that flickers in her heart. Everything about the blonde screamed Paige, and Paige is beautiful. 
“Welcome to LA,” she says while pulling out of the hug. Refusing to look at her, she turns to the man looming in the corner while offering a hand. At the table, Cam sucks a sharp breath in, casting a warning glance at Paige which is ignored. Azzi stiffens and her heart hammers. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Paige, and you are?”
“I’m Charles,” he murmurs, accepting the handshake and offering a small, sly smile. Azzi’s eyes widen. Her fiancé is rarely friendly, especially not to Paige. They glare at each other for a brief moment before she takes a seat next to Cam. 
Her fiancé and her sit side-by-side at the table, across from Paige and Cam. Charles slides his hand into Azzi’s under the table, squeezing it softly. The small gesture makes Azzi smile as she leans into her fiancé, enjoying his comforting presence. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to take her mind off of the blonde sitting directly across from her, laughing with her WNBA teammates. It annoys her.
Azzi is selfish. 
***
The entire table has some sort of alcoholic beverage in their hands or in their stomachs. Paige sits awkwardly, sipping a Shirley Temple whose sugary and overly sweet grenadine has become bitter on her tongue. Nausea seeps into the edges of her head and begins to spread like wildfire and she finds herself rubbing circles on her forehead. She can’t stand the sound of Azzi’s bubbly laughter across the table. The sound that threatened to burn a hole through her heart. 
“So, how did you guys meet?” Dijonai Carrington cocks an eyebrow at the couple while swirling her cocktail in her cup. 
A brief panicked look flashes across Azzi’s face before Charles cuts in. “We met in college.” His answer is curt and dry, yet polite. Several of her teammates cooed at his response, gushing over the couple. The two women jump into a conversation about their college lovers. 
That should’ve been me.
“What a fucking people pleaser.” Paige snickers to Cam while blinking back the unwelcome moisture that began to form under her eyes. She throws back the rest of her drink before dropping her head into her arms.
“Are you sure you don’t want any alcohol? Like, a thousand percent positive?” Dearica Hamby, the star forward of the Valkyries asks Paige while rubbing the taller woman’s back. Through the seemingly innocent image of the question, she notices genuine concern painted in the woman’s softened eyes.
“She’s alright without it,” Cam answers before she could open her mouth. “We made an agreement that she would have no alcohol tonight because I had to clean up after her last time.” The entire table howls in laughter, and Paige joins them with a half-hearted smile while heart fractures. 
If her smile didn’t split into a frown at the corners of her mouth or her chin didn’t wrinkle, Azzi’s heart wouldn’t have stopped and she would’ve been laughing with her teammates. 
“Yeah, I had to show up to her apartment with shoes and a shit load of candy because I felt so guilty.” She sneaks a glance at the brunette sitting across from her. Instead of laughing with the team, she was engaged in a conversation with her fiancé, prompting her to avert her gaze. It takes every piece of her dignity not to stare at the brunette. Her dark, curly hair is braided and hangs just above her shoulders; the same hairstyle that she jokingly called a bob back in their college days. She wears a baby blue knitted tank that reveals her muscular arms and white, flowy linen pants that hug her hips. 
However, when Paige’s eyes pass by the soon-to-be married couple, searching for something, they follow the pattern of their intertwined arms and hands hidden under the table. Looking at Cam, she whispers, “I need to get out of here.” the taller woman waves a hand at her, signaling for her to go ahead. She files through her wallet and grabs a few hundred-dollar bills and hands them to Cam, which she graciously accepts. Dearica flashes her a sympathetic look before returning to her drinking game. 
“I got a call from my mom and I gotta take it. I’ll be right back.” Announcing to the table, she grabs her phone and stands up, stepping over her drunk and overly rowdy teammates. When she finally slips behind the thick velvet curtain, she finally feels as if she can breathe. The curtain has become a barrier between her and a certain pair of brown eyes that burns holes through the back of her head. She knows that man. The blur of dark curls and olive and brown skin became too vivid. She needs to get out. It hurts her. 
Paige is protective. 
*** 
The neat blonde bun disappears behind the curtain with a soft, almost inaudible swoosh. She tries to talk with her teammates, laughing at their jokes, but everything feels forced. The image of Paige's stiff posture and the death grip she had on her phone haunts her. All of a sudden, her fiancé’s once soft hand feels heavy and scratchy against her skin.
“I need some air. I’ll be right back,” She announces as she gets up, dropping her fiancé’s hand. Cam and Dearica pause their argument over their stupid drinking game and stare at her with their mouths agape. There is undeniable panic swirling in both pairs of wide-open eyes, but Cam gives a hesitant nod.  
“Is everything alright babe?” Charles’s voice is soft but urgent. “I can come with you.” Azzi looks at him with a warm smile before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. 
As she exits the restaurant, she is met with an intricate spectacle of orange, pink, and blue. The light of the day quickly disappears, but she discerns a hunched silhouette on the beach that glows under the golden light. Her attention shifts to the orange circle that barely peeks out through the edge of the horizon as it slowly sinks underneath the water, leaving a trail of orange and pink light rippling across the surface of the water. Waves crash loudly against the shore before they are drawn back to the ocean while laughter and joyful screams from children join the peaceful ambience. 
“Are you just gonna stand there or do you wanna sit?” A tired voice rips her out of her thoughts as she tears her gaze from the astonishing scene in front of her. She glances at the woman sitting next to her who has her knees up to her chest and her head resting on her forearms. Azzi decides to sit a few feet away from her. For a split second, it feels like their fragmented friendship could be salvaged again. 
She slips her sandals off and lets her feet absorb the texture of the flaky sand while shivering when a gust of wind hits her skin. Instead of ignoring the mechanical sound of teeth chattering, Paige shakes the jacket off her shoulders and hands it to her which Azzi graciously accepts. When she wraps it around her shoulders, she is engulfed in the aroma of roses again. 
“I thought you had a call to take,” Azzi remarks, her voice soft. Veins snake down the woman’s arms and hands until they disappear behind her knuckles. Her pale skin had become golden and her biceps protrude from the rest of her arm. The neat braids in her hair are now ruffled and frizzy, and small wisps of hair dance with the breeze. On her wrist is a beaded bracelet that reads “RESILIENCE.” The bracelet from her camp before their explosive argument. The sight of it makes her heart flutter, but when she reaches her face, a cold wave of dread washes over her as she notices the smeared mascara and faint patches of salty skin on her cheeks. 
“Yeah, I did.” Paige answers bluntly, her voice cracking slightly. An uncomfortable silence falls upon them; the air heavy from their unspoken words. Azzi’s heart throbs at her cold tone. “What brings you out here?” she asks after a few moments. 
“I felt nauseous.” Paige scoffs at her response, shaking her head. 
“Bullshit.” 
“Paige, why are you so fucking blunt?” Azzi exasperates, throwing her hands up in the air in surrender. “You hugged me earlier and that whole time, you were stiff as a rock. It’s been 3 fucking years, it’s time to grow the fuck up.” When Paige says nothing in response, Azzi continues. “I’m trying to be the bigger person here and you’re being unfair. I told you that we can stay friends and then you fucking gho-”
“Your fiancé,” the blonde sneers, tearing Azzi out of her rant. Her voice is shaky and dangerously close to breaking. Through the golden light, she can see the tears brimming behind her smudged eyelashes. “He’s the one that you met at Ted’s, right?” Azzi stays silent, giving Paige the confirmation she needed. “You’re not being the bigger person, not at all. You’re only talking to me because you want something out of me. Azzi, you’re being selfish.”  The last word hits Azzi like a cold bucket of water. 
“You’re being unfair,” Azzi says shakily, refusing to meet the blonde’s eyes. 
Paige lets out a strangled sputter before opening her mouth. “I’m being unfair? Me being mad over you getting cozy with another man after our natty suddenly means that I’m being unfair?” 
“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re being unfair because you’re hurting him with your comments. Do you think I can’t hear the derogatory names you’ve called him tonight?” Azzi scrunches her face and turns to the blonde, whose attention is on the sand that snakes between her toes. 
“Are you happy?” the older woman finally asks after a period of silence.
“I don’t know.”
“What?” Her blue eyes dart towards hers. 
“P.” Paige freezes at the use of her nickname, “I miss you. My offer still stands. We can go back to our friendship.” The last words are quiet, almost as if they aren’t supposed to be spoken. Memories of what they were rush through both of their minds. The women have something unreadable in both of their eyes as they stare at each other. 
“No, we.. we can’t.” Paige finally speaks, tearing her gaze away from her, letting out a shaky breath and gets up to leave, but before she can take a step forward, she feels a forceful hand clasp around her wrist that prompts a wave of panic to flood through her. “Azzi, let me go. You can’t do this. You’re getting married soon for god’s sake.”  
“Our last night in Belarus, I know you remember it. You wear the same perfume, you even gave me your hoodie. Shit, Paige, that was the time I knew that I fell in love with you. Every little thing you did for me felt like you were giving me your entire world. You fell in love with me too. Every argument we had, we made up, and we can make up from this too. I’m asking you to believe in us again. I won’t leave you.” For a split second, Paige’s eyes soften and she lets her walls down. She desperately wants to let go of her "tough guy" facade and let herself taste Azzi's lips again.
“No. You don’t get to say that now. Not when you have a fiancé waiting for you in the restaurant.” The vulnerability that Paige showed is once again blocked by the ramparts of her castle. The remembrance of Charles’s presence hits Azzi like an 18-wheeler. “It’s evident that you can’t own up to any of the mistakes that you made.” 
“You’re not taking any accountability for it either! Do you think I haven’t tried?” Paige flinches, backing away from Azzi who is now screaming. “You had to address it at the fucking draft. For fuck’s sake, let me explain my side of the story.” 
“I tried to give you space because clearly, you wanted to fuck around with him. You don’t get to explain your side of the story. It was the night of the March Madness championship and you ch-”
“Oh, shit.” A new voice joins their argument. Paige whips her head around and sees Dearica and Cameron looking at them with wide eyes. “Azzi, I don’t think you should-” 
“No it’s okay,” Paige feigns a smile before pulling out of Azzi’s grip. “Welcome to the City of Dreams, Azzi. I’m sorry for having to leave so abruptly.” 
And she’s gone. Packed away in the backseat of an Uber. It hurts Azzi more than it should. The doors to Paige’s heart that used to be held open for Azzi are now barricaded off, isolating her. 
“What the fuck happened?” The blonde turns to Azzi with an edge of hostility in her tone. Dearica glares at her, and Azzi’s heart free-falls into her stomach. 
“Azzi?!” Charles’s deep voice calls out, and Azzi is grateful to be saved from the awkward confrontation. When his eyes land on her, they soften and he wraps her into a tight embrace. Every piece of contact between them feels scratchy and uncomfortable, especially in Paige’s jacket. “Don’t fucking leave me again.” He snarls into her ear before glaring at her jacket. 
The other women turn to leave before exchanging an uncomfortable look with each other. 
***
An empty bottle of tequila is the only company Paige has on her bar table. Right as she lets the effects of the alcohol take her consciousness, her front door flies open. Every muscle in her body tenses and she buries her head into her arms in hopes that she will disappear. 
“P?” It’s Cam. Her body relaxes. 
A second pair of heavy footsteps make their way to the table. She stiffens again.
“It’s me, don’t worry. You’re alright” The other voice belongs to Dearica. She exhales and looks up. Cam’s eyes are fixed on the empty bottle of tequila and a heavy breath falls out of her mouth. 
“Again? Seriously, Paige?” When Paige puts her head back down into her arms, Cam’s hands rub her back. 
“Yeah. Again.” Sobs begin to wreck the blonde’s body and she shakes violently. Dearica and Cam exchange a panicked look before embracing their teammate. 
“I’m sorry, Paige. What she did is fucked up” Dearica’s voice is soft and reassuring. “We tried to talk to her but, her, um, we were interrupted.” She and Cam are walking on thin ice; one bad step and their teammate will plunge in the freezing cold water.
“Let’s get you to bed. You have a big day tomorrow, so let’s make the most out of it.” Cam and Dearica carry their teammate, whose body is shaking violently while sobbing to bed.
For the 5th night in a row, she cries herself to sleep. 
I need you.
***
“Charles, why do you want to marry me?”
“Because I love you baby, and I want to spend every second of my life with you. With us.”
“...Okay.”
“I promise I’ll never hurt you. I’ll be the one to protect you forever.” 
“Azzi Fudd. What the fuck was that?” Charles sneers. His emerald eyes are alive, burning with acrimony. She doesn’t look up from her phone screen where her fingers shakily hover over the call button under Paige’s name. 
“I’m sorry? I told you I was getting some air and I ran into Paige.” Her tone is surprisingly even and steady despite her trembling body. When a dark look falls across his face, she shudders. Suddenly, her phone is ripped from her hands and shattered against the wall with a loud smash that rings in her ears.
“Don’t fucking talk back to me. You saw what happened to your phone, and I know that you don’t want to be next.” He slams the door of their hotel room and stomps down the hall. When she doesn't hear the obnoxiously loud footsteps anymore, she allows her body to collapse and cries into her pillow while she thinks about the promises that they made on their engagement night.
I need you.
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aphrogeneias · 10 months ago
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pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x manager's daughter!reader
summary: eddie has hit rock bottom. it's been a long time coming. there's only one person who can help him, but he hasn't thought of her in a long time.
word count: 3.3k
content warnings: mentions of drinking and drugs (licit and illicit), and issues with the excess of both. brief mention of a small injury.
series masterlist / taglist is open!
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The first thing Eddie ever noticed about you was your laugh. It was your most striking feature.
It commanded a room. It said everything there was to say about you. Loud, unabashed, not scared to call attention. The kind of laughter that makes you throw your head back, the kind that makes everything funnier. Impossible to miss.
He heard it, clear as a bell, across the hall from your father’s office, the first time he walked through the halls of that office building, shoulder to shoulder with his friends and bandmates, ready to sign Corroded Coffin’s first ever major deal.
A lot of firsts in one day. Too many life changing circumstances. The first fallen domino in a long, crumbling chain.
He can still see it all. The outdated, 1970s wallpaper and carpet, creams and oranges and swirls. The tour posters and platinum records littering the walls. The smell of cigarettes and hardwood floor wax coming from his future manager’s office as they went in. Into the lion’s den, wide eyed boys with hands that trembled too much for a confident handshake.
The girl sitting on top of the big office table, laughing at her father’s jokes. He couldn't hear what he told you just before they came in, but it seemed like an intimate moment. Father and daughter, their own world.
That laughter, though. It caught him by surprise. It shook the entire room. She barely spared them a glance as they were ushered in, and climbed down with a kind of feline grace. Her hair bounced behind her as she walked away, hurriedly blowing a kiss back at the man behind the desk.
Expensive perfume, the glint of golden jewelry on her skin, the sway of her hips just before the door closed behind her. His eyes struggled with tearing themselves off the door that hid her from him.
The first time he saw you. You, you, you.
Eddie Munson had never met anyone like you. He wasn't sure he ever would — and he was right, after all.
CHATEAU MARMONT HOTEL, LOS ANGELES, 1990
The sound of the telephone wakes him up.
He doesn’t know when he’s gone to bed, has no memory of it, but he can feel the toll last night took on his body. His tired body drags itself across the mattress, and the first thing Eddie notices is that he’s naked. The second is that the phone is still ringing.
Reaching out, his face hits the pillow once more, smushing his cheek against it as he grabs the receiver and pulls it to his ear. “Munson residence. Edwin speaking.”
“Where the fuck were you, man?”
The voice on the other side of the line sounds like Jeff, but Eddie’s never heard him quite like this. On the verge of tears, but maybe his still drunk brain is playing tricks on him. He doesn’t need to look around to know that the room is a mess. There’s a sheet on the floor, and a bottle of booze on his field of vision, and another at the side table next to the phone. Both empty.
He’s just glad he didn’t wake up to someone next to him in bed.
“What do you mean, where were you? At the hotel, I think. You were here too.”
“Last night, Eddie. We waited for you. Where were you? We thought you were dead.”
Last night. He didn’t remember last night. A rooftop, a pool, a sunset. Too many bottles, too many pills. A girl putting something on his tongue while she sat on his lap, and shutting his jaw closed with a delicate hand. Tripping on lounge chairs, falling on the pool. Blood on his knees. Someone dragging him up and into the elevator.
“What day is it?” He mumbles.
A record label party in their honor, to follow the success of their fourth album. Followed by a… concert.
A concert.
All that comes from the other side of the line is a drawn out sigh. “They’re sending someone to go get you. I hope you get your shit together until then.”
Then, it goes silent.
The concert.
Stumbling on himself, Eddie tries to stand up, and falls. The memory of his skinned knees comes as quickly as the pain does, and he notices they’re bare, still bleeding a little. He finds his underwear on the floor, next to the rest of his clothes, and slips them on as he moves towards the door, propping himself up on the wall.
He yanks the door open, and sprints through the hall as best as he can, catching the attention of one of the maids, who he promptly stops in front of, suddenly much too aware of his own nakedness. She freezes, trying to keep her eyes on his face.
“What day is it?”
A lump grows on his throat. His own voice sounds foreign, like it’s coming from someplace else.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“What day is it? Today, what’s the date?”
“It’s the 17th. August 17.”
All he can do is nod, and make his back to his room as if the world hadn’t just fallen from his feet.
A day too late.
THE RAINBOW BAR & GRILL, SUNSET BOULEVARD, LOS ANGELES, SUMMER 1987
“Pinch me.”
There had been plenty of “pinch me” moments in those last few weeks. Eddie wasn't sure what Gareth meant, though, as he sat straighter against the cushion of their booth.
It was dark inside, and every surface gleamed red. From the cherry red booths to the bottles on the bar shelves, the dark wood on the walls, the chandeliers. He couldn't tell most people's faces, and they'd probably wanted it that way.
The line to get inside was turning the corner, the people there having a party within themselves, under the lights of Sunset Boulevard. It was loud, and bright, everywhere they went. Eddie thrived around it all.
He'd never felt more alive in his twenty-one years than in the months he had spent here.
The younger boy scooted closer to him, a glass of something colorful in hand. Courtesy of one of the girls whose booth he'd been sitting on until now, surely. Not he'd blame him, he'd lost count of the glasses he had himself, feeling light in his seat.
“Fucking”, the drummer hit him in the arm, pupils taking over the blue in his eyes, “pinch me, man!”
“What the fuck for?” He laughed at his friend’s tone.
“Do you see that?”
Gareth pointed forward to a booth a couple of tables from them. It was full, with mostly women, their teased up hair and flashy clothes demanding all the attention. As his friend pointed out, some of them looked over to them, waving with delicate fingers. Eddie waved back, throwing in a wink for good measure.
He'd easily feel intimidated with those eyes on him, but the alcohol in his body threw those inhibitions away.
“Those girls,” Gareth continued, “those beautiful girls, invited us to a private party at their apartment.”
Eddie nodded along while Gareth emphasized the words private and apartment. As if their intentions weren't obvious from the beginning of the night. He could see Grant on his seat, soaking up the attention from a blonde girl with her hand on his shoulder, and Jeff standing to the side, deep in conversation with a guy in a similar black leather jacket.
From afar, none of it looked real.
If he was being honest, he never thought he'd be living his father’s life this soon — or ever. Eddie wondered about it all the time. What was Al Munson doing when his mother was reading him to sleep back in Nashville, or later, when his uncle was working the late night shift to get both of them by.
The fame, the contacts, the booze, the money. The women. The more he learned, the less he knew.
All Eddie knew was that he promised himself he'd never turn out like his old man, a promise he'd made himself a long time ago, long before he landed in the City of Angels, but seeing what he'd seen in the small amount of time he'd spent there, he wondered if that was really possible.
Corruption seemed tempting, inevitable even, amongst the red and maroons of The Rainbow. Demons, sirens, and the small town boys drawn to them. Hell itself, in disguise.
“And,” Gareth continued, putting his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, grinning at him, “they asked me to call you over.”
Just as he thought. Tempting. Matching his friend’s grin, Eddie reached over to his arm and pinched it, hard. Gareth’s subsequent yelp was dulled by the loud music and chatting, and Eddie only grinned harder when the boy went for him.
They wrestled for a bit until the drummer pulled him from his seat and up, teasing him, “C’mon, man. You need to get laid”.
“You need to get laid! You're the one who's been begging for that secretary’s number. What’s her name again? J-”
He stopped on his tracks, pulling Gareth with him by his t-shirt.
While he was talking and his eyes were running across the bar, unable to pay attention to just one thing at once, he saw a familiar sitting in a booth at the other side of the room. A girl near his age, a familiar face.
She was sitting facing his way, beside a guy who had his arm around her shoulder. He looked slightly out of place in his neat black sweater and Ray-Ban glasses pushing his hair back. They looked expensive, the pair of them. Untouchable, in their own bubble.
They were talking to a girl who had her back to him, all Eddie could see was the back of her head, a blonde bob shaking as she gestured with her hands, wrapped in white lace gloves and gleaming silver rings.
The girl laughed, throwing her head back and into her friend’s — boyfriend’s? — shoulder and, in that moment, he knew exactly who she was.
Eddie’s vision tunneled, and he could hear Gareth beside him, whining for him to hurry up. He pushed his friend away, making a sign for him to go on without him.
Gareth rolled his eyes, mumbling something he did not understand — he might have told him he'd come later, but Eddie was too busy with his eyes on your table to decipher what came out of his own mouth.
As he approached with unsure steps, the sudden confidence that overtook him only lasting half of the way, until he saw your male friend — he wasn't about to think of him as your boyfriend, not yet, he needed to have some hope — and the girl stand.
He watched as the guy dragged his hand from your shoulder, to your elbow, and finally held your hand in his, leaving a kiss there before accompanying his other friend to the bar. Something burned and wilted inside of him, an ugly feeling he couldn't quite place.
That's my moment, Eddie thought, as he did before every single impulsive decision he ever took — and there wasn't a shortage of them.
His worn down boots, which in hindsight might once have been Wayne’s, carried him to your table. Your borderline bored stare made you even prettier from up close, as he tried to open his mouth and figure out what to say.
Instead, he could just watch as you drowned back the rest of your drink, and reached into your purse to light a cigarette. “What are you looking at?”, you asked, without looking at him yet.
His mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water, before gathering himself. “You're Ace’s daughter, aren't you? I saw you at his office.”
“Yes, and you're one of the label’s new hires who's still at that phase they're not ashamed to kiss ass.”
Finally, you turned, blowing the smoke in his direction. He barely felt it, really, because he was more focused on your smile, and the way your glossy lips stretched, and your nose scrunched.
Normally, he would have been pissed. But, with that face, you must have been used to stepping on people's toes and not getting heat because of it. He'd let you blow smoke directly on his face if it meant you'd keep looking at him.
You gestured vaguely to the seat in front of you, and he took the message. “Maybe. Am I kissing the right ass?” He grinned as he sat down.
No ring on your finger, he noticed, and maybe it was a good sign. He could be unbothered too. With the right amount of madness and a little Munson Magic, he could leave here with your number.
“I dunno.” You shrugged, but grinned back. “I'll have you know my ass is very demanding.”
“Noted.” He feigned seriousness. “I’m Eddie.”
“Munson, I know.”
Surprised, his eyebrows rose to his forehead. “How do you know?”
A chill ran down his spine at the mention of his last name. The curse he carried. Of course you'd know, your dad would know, even though he's never talked about it. Everyone knew.
“Dad isn't the only one in charge of business. At least not all of it.” You played with the piece of lime on your glass, and ran your finger through the rim, catching a bit of the salt there, licking it off your finger. “I know a thing or two.”
Right. All business, but no family.
You couldn't have been doing it on purpose. Eddie didn't think he was worth it, but the strain on his jeans said otherwise. He felt tense for more reasons than one.
“And you're not gonna tell me your name?”
“Thought you already know. Boy like you looks like he would do his homework.”
“Oh, no. A boy like me failed high school more times than I'd be comfortable sharing.”
He chuckled, and there it was again. Your laugh, freeing itself against the walls of the bar and bounced on him like a spell. “I like you, Eddie Munson.”
“Thought your ass was very demanding.” He quoted you, grinning from ear to ear, and tilting his head. “Was my kissing good enough?”
You put out your cigarette on the table and dropped the butt on your empty glass before looking straight into his eyes. Then, you got distracted by something happening behind him. He felt it too, and turned around to look.
The guy, your boyfriend-not-boyfriend, approached with no drinks in hand, despite coming from the direction of the bar, and no blonde friend in sight. He doesn’t acknowledge Eddie, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. “Who’s this?”
When Eddie turned back to you, you were already standing too. “New meat. Doesn’t know he’s swimming with sharks yet.”
You were talking like he wasn’t not there.
Inside, he deflates. He knew your type, your definitely-boyfriend’s type. The type who looked down on him, who thought little of his ambition. Eddie thought he could approach you, even though you were every bit as unapproachable as you looked. Things had changed for him, but that wouldn’t change regardless of where he stood. He was still at the bottom of the food chain, and you, taunting him at the very top.
It wasn’t like either of you were aware of it, but it had been nice to pretend for what little he could.
Didn’t change the fact that he still wanted you to look at him — and you did, for one last time that night, as the other guy laced his fingers with yours, and pulled you away, telling you something about an after party.
“Better work on that kissing, Eddie Munson.”
ALBATROSS RECORDS HQ, SAN FRANCISCO, 1990
Eddie has a lot to think of while he waits.
It seems like some kind of punishment, one parents would dish out on their small kids. Sit on that corner, face the wall, think of what you did. Think of what you did. It was easier to think of what he hasn’t done.
Missing an important concert because he was shitfaced and blacked out was the last drop, but that glass has been full for some time now.
Out of control, it's what he's been hearing. He'd seen his own face on MTV not too long ago, late at night on a grainy television, baring his tongue back at himself. He gives himself the devil horns like a crown, a silver cross hanging from his neck and sticking to his bare chest, as he addresses the camera from the stage before diving in the crowd. Out of control, they said.
He'd barely remembered that, or that the concert was being filmed. Figures.
Though, he had to agree someone in control wouldn't end up with as many bills for destroyed tour buses and hotel rooms in his name as he did. Someone in control wouldn't have been arrested for drug possession more than once, or have almost drowned in a hotel pool across the world. Or have lost the trust and admiration of his closest friends, and the contact with the only family he has.
His head aches. Eddie lifts his fingers to massage his temples, and sighs. It's August in California, and he's cold sweating in his seat, under his t-shirt. The chill gets worse when he hears the office’s door open behind him.
He doesn't turn around, doesn't move. The man approaches the table — his table — and loosens the collar of his dress shirt before sitting down, undoing his cufflinks and folding his sleeves up.
Ace Adler is a man of few words. He never talks much, but when he does, he makes sure one will listen. Eddie doesn't know much about him outside of talking business, other than Ace Adler was definitely not his real name, but he knew to take him seriously.
It felt like being in a room with his father, but at least his old man knew how to work a room before striking.
“I'm not going to tell you about the harm that you've done, but I'm sure your bandmates had the time to inform you.” Ace started, staring him down. “I won't tell you about the money we lost, and the contracts we had to humiliate ourselves to not lose, or what my business partners told me when they got the news. You must have a feeling it wasn't pretty.”
“I can…” Eddie started, and all he received was a raised hand in response.
“You'll talk when I'm done, son.”
A pause, much too long. Eddie nods, and keeps his eyes forward. It'll be worse if he doesn't meet his manager’s cold stare. His stomach drops.
“I won't tell you about any of it because that won't change a thing. All I'll tell you is that you got lucky, because I was supposed to fire you today, but someone changed my mind.”
“Fire me? Fire me from my own band?”
Ace doesn't answer his outburst. Instead, he slips a note from across the table in his general direction. It's a piece of ripped pink paper.
Tentatively, he opens it. There's all but a name and a phone number. Your name, and your phone number. You're using your real last name, he supposes, but that's undoubtedly you. Was that your handwriting too?
“Give her a call.” Ace says as he stands again, already on his way out. “Maybe she can help you out, because I won’t.”
As he hears your father close the door behind him once more, he thinks of all the last few times he saw you. The disdain in your eyes, the harsh words he uttered. Animosity from both sides, born from years of resentment.
He goes back to that first conversation. “Better work on that kissing, Eddie Munson.”
Never had he thought it would come that day.
312 notes · View notes
soul-controller · 9 months ago
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Going All-American
When Arthur Harris first made his way out of his flat to go check his mailbox, the man had solely been expecting to come across unexciting yet expensive content like bills. Upon gripping onto the solid stack of envelopes and beginning to filter through them, the man’s assumptions were mostly proven to be correct. However, it was the very last envelope that Arthur saw that caught his eye. From just the envelope itself, Arthur’s attention was further pulled in by the fact that his name and address were handwritten onto it along with the several stamps running along the top left corner displaying an American flag. Clearly, this was a personal and international piece of postage that he received, but the fact that there was no return address listed immediately piqued the man’s interest even further.
Upon making his way back up to his flat and hastily tearing open the envelope, the man’s mind was running rampant in the possible content of the postage as he pulled open the letter to figure out its contents. To his surprise, Arthur found a piece of paper that was chock-full of text that he cautiously skimmed through. While reading through the first letter, a slight grin emerged on his face as he found himself coming across a professional-looking note that stated that he had won a trip to California. Although he had no real recollection about applying for a contest or sweepstakes, that didn’t matter once he discovered what he would be doing there.
Congratulations, You (Arthur Harris) are the grand prize winner of the sweepstakes to win an all-expense paid trip to Los Angeles! While you are here, you’ll be shuttled to the set of the hit television show All-American, where you will be able to explore the sets and meet all of your favorite actors. Please be ready on the date listed as a car will be waiting for you to take you to the airport for your departure to Los Angeles. We look forward to giving you an “All-American” experience in more ways than one! Sincerely, S-C Productions
“Holy shit!” Arthur said, the letter slipping from his hand as his entire body began to buzz with excitement. Although he wanted so badly to jump up and down in glee and loudly cry out for his excitement, his respect and care for his flatmates caused him to hold back and conceal his emotions as best as he could. Getting a free trip to LA was exciting enough, but the added bonus of getting to travel to the set of All-American was a dream come true. Certainly it would be interesting for the man to witness the entire process of filming given his own interest in film and cinematography, but even more so when one of his biggest crushes was in frame.
Ever since Arthur had first watched Cody Christian arrive on his television screen as Theo in the Teen Wolf TV show, the man was instantly smitten with him. Not only did Cody perfectly play the role of a cocky and self-assured asshole, but he was also incredibly hot while doing so! Every time Arthur watched an episode of the show, Cody was one of the main reasons behind his continued viewing despite the show’s consistent dip in quality. Unfortunately, Cody’s role as a side character that bumped heads with Tyler Posey’s Scott McCall wasn’t enough to keep Arthur engaged though as Arthur ultimately dropped the show before it even finished airing.
As such, Arthur’s thirst for the actor lessened for a bit as he only focused on seeing the hunky man via social media or Tumblr via gif-sets. Luckily though, a renewed interest emerged when Cody landed the role of Asher on the TV show All-American. Not only did the show catch Arthur’s interest because it caused him to fall back in love with Cody, but it also perfectly meshed with his own interests as it was a show about football players… especially since Cody was playing a cocky and materialistic football player named Asher.
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Given how much this was a dream come true, Arthur still found himself quite unsure whether this was really happening or if he had somehow fallen asleep accidentally and was thus having the best possible dream. After a painful pinch informed him that this was truly reality, the man tilted his head back down towards the floor to look for the letter once more. Upon doing so though, he saw that the letter was flipped onto its backside after falling to the floor. While this wasn’t anything to write home about, glancing at the piece of paper revealed that there was more important information included onto the back.
Reading through, Arthur quickly skimmed through an itinerary that listed what Arthur would experience throughout his trip. The trip to the All-American set was seemingly meant to take up most of the day according to the list, but Arthur didn’t mind when he read about how the set would provide several meals throughout along with getting to watch several scenes get filmed along with a meet and greet with several of the actors.
As his hands continued to travel down the sheet as he read, his attention soon was caught by the firm slip of paper affixed to the bottom of the paper. Upon looking down, Arthur’s eyes widened as he saw that an airline ticket was already ready to go for him. While it was a relief that the studio had seemingly already worked ahead to get everything ready for the trip, the man was understandably confused about how they knew where he was located and concerned about when he was going to go on this trip. While seeing that the date was on November 22nd, Arthur was quite caught off-guard when he checked his work schedule and realized that he had somehow requested that day off. He had no idea why he would have done that, but he wasn’t going to fret about it too much when it benefited him.
Regardless of how the date aligned so well, Arthur was quite relieved to find that there would be no hassle in terms of getting in trouble at his job. It was a miracle that he had even received this surprise trip in the first place, so Arthur opted to not ask too many questions. In this quick acceptance of his surprise gift, Arthur failed to notice that the ticket was a one-way ticket rather than a round-trip, which would have given him a clue about the fact that his trip would end up becoming permanent. Instead, he quickly made his way back into his bedroom and began filling his suitcase with clothing that would work well with the humid LA weather he would soon be experiencing…
* * * * *
When the morning of the 22nd finally arrived and the alarm of his phone rang out, Arthur woke up with a smile on his face rather than his usual routine of groaning and hitting the snooze button. Excited for the impending trip, the man quickly got out of bed and dragged himself into the bathroom to shower. Upon getting done and tying a towel around his waist, Arthur made his way back into the bedroom. Just as he began to pull the towel off and change into clothes though, a loud pounding against his door caused Arthur to gasp and scream in shock. While trying to catch his breath from the real life jump-scare he had just experienced, Arthur slowly made his way towards the door of his room and took a look through the peephole.
While looking through, Arthur’s eyes caught sight of a burly yet well-dressed man who stood firm with his thick hands at his hips while looking at the door with an intimidating yet stoic expression.
“Uh hello, can I help you?” Arthur inquired, checking for a moment to confirm that the deadbolt and chain on his door were both fully locked. While this was certainly a realistic reaction to seeing the stranger outside his door, the British man let out a deep breath of relief and mentally scolded himself when the man stated that he was from S-C Productions and he was the driver to take him to the airport for his LA trip. Upon telling him that he was in the middle of getting dressed, the driver sternly told him that he had ten minutes before he was leaving - regardless of whether Arthur was in tow or not.
After apologizing and saying he’ll be done as soon as he can, Arthur rushed away from the door and began to change. Given the fact that he would be spending several hours in the cramped seating of a plane, he opted to dress in loose garments that would provide some much needed comfort throughout the hours-long trip. After quickly devouring a small bowl of cereal, Arthur grabbed onto his suitcases and made his way towards the door.
Before turning the knob and exiting though, Arthur stopped in front of the large full-body mirror on the backside of the room’s door to verify that he looked presentable given his haste. As he looked at himself and gave a slight smile to see how others would perceive him, the man was relieved to see that his biceps looked rather impressive given how much skin the tank top revealed. While the rest of his torso wasn’t nearly as buff as his biceps, the man still recognized the fact that he looked better than most people given his semi-regular gym routine. However, the continued staring at his mirror caused him to traverse down a dark mental rabbit hole of self-doubt considering that he would soon be in LA where it seemed like practically everyone would be a 10/10 with gorgeous physiques and perfect visages galore.
Shaking his head in hopes of pushing those intrusive thoughts away, the man finally took a deep breath and turned the handle to begin his journey to Los Angeles. Upon awkwardly introducing himself to the burly driver, Arthur followed the man as he led him down to the ground floor. Throughout the journey from exiting his flat and putting his luggage into the car, Arthur couldn’t help but stare at the impressively-built man. The man, who introduced himself as Wes, had a physique that was filling out the stylish black suit to the brink of having the fabric tear. Following behind Wes was a blessing in disguise for the British man as he got to watch the man’s perky yet firm ass fill out the seat of his pants and bounce with each footfall he took.
Throughout the drive to the airport, Arthur tried his best to make small talk with the intimidating man. Unfortunately, conversations quickly stalled when Wes told Arthur that he needed to focus on traffic to get him to the airport as quickly and safely as possible. Upon arriving at the airport, where Wes quickly told him to get out before speeding off to do another job, Arthur momentarily mourned for the missed connection he had with the man.
But as he grabbed his luggage and began to walk through security and towards his departure gate, Arthur’s mind shifted focus away from Wes and back onto his thirst for Cody. Due to just how excited yet exhausted he was from the early morning wake-up call, Arthur found himself soon falling asleep upon putting his luggage away and taking his seat. As he quickly fell into a state of slumber though, the continued thoughts of Cody Christian and his thirst for the man soon led to a rather erotic sex dream that involved Arthur worshipping the hunk’s muscular body and easily helped the hours-long flight fly by as he felt no desire to wake up no matter how much turbulence he felt.
Upon the plane landing and a young female attendant softly shaking him awake, Arthur moved in a dazed state as he exited the plane. Given his total discombobulation about the new area along with not knowing where to go to pick up the luggage, he opted to just follow the crowd through the terminal towards the correct area. Luckily, Arthur’s luggage was one of the first few pieces to arrive, so he was able to escape the large crowd and make his way towards the taxi area of the airport where the letter stated that someone from the studio would be there to pick him up.
After a bit of getting lost and having to ask for directions, Arthur finally made his way to the correct area where he looked through the long aisle of drivers holding signs with their intended client’s name. At first annoyed that it took two rounds of searching through the crowd of drivers to find the one holding his name, Arthur quickly began to recognize why when he walked up to the hand extended through the crowd and discovered that his driver was a rail-thin man cramped between two chubby drivers.
Upon asking for the men to move, Arthur pulled the mousy man through and revealed himself. “Hey there, I’m Arthur. Are you the driver from S-C Productions?” he inquired, trying to make sure he wasn’t taking the wrong Arthur’s ride.
While he awaited a response, the British man quickly took a look up and down to observe the man he’d seemingly be working with throughout the entire trip. The man was rather tiny, with a height that just barely reached 5’5” and a weight that refused to go past 95 pounds. The man’s face looked rather impressive with the angular jawline, high cheekbones, and bright blue eyes, but Peter’s thick black-rimmed glasses and low weight counteracted those features and instead made him look nerdy and rather malnourished.
“Hey there, I’m not a driver but I am here to pick you up and take you to the studio though. I’m Peter,” he began, stopping to extend a hand out, which Arthur quickly accepted as they did a quick handshake. “I’m an intern at the studio, they needed someone to pick you up and I volunteered. It certainly beats doing coffee runs and dealing with difficult actors, am I right?” he said, his high-pitched and whiny voice shifting into a deep and wheezy chuckle that understandably took Arthur off-guard.
“Oh ok, uh, it’s nice to meet you then Peter,” Arthur responded, returning the chuckle to help the dorky-looking man not feel self-conscious before pulling his lips into a light smile. Although Peter tried his best to appear official by offering to take Arthur’s luggage, the British man feared possibly injuring the man due to how hefty his bags were and thus declined the offer and said he’d carry them himself. At first, Peter seemed a bit caught off-guard by the kind behavior, but when his expression turned appreciative with a wide smile, it was clear that the young intern appreciated not being treated as the help for once.
So upon leading the way to the black Escalade that the studio had told Peter to use to pick him up, Arthur deposited his bags into the backseat before hopping into the passenger seat. As Peter finally put the car into motion and drove out of the airport, Arthur’s eyes widened as the intern surprised the retail cashier with a quick little tour of LA as they made their way towards the studio. It was incredibly exciting for a cinephile like Arthur to get a quick glimpse of famous locales like the Hollywood sign or the Griffith Observatory. Despite the slight intimidation those locales provided in terms of realizing the impact and level of celebrity he was going to be around as a result, Arthur found himself remaining calm as Peter finally made his way towards the studio entrance.
After making a moment of small talk with the security guards out front, Peter showed off an ID badge that allowed the gates to open and for the intern to continue driving. As he made his way through the busy backlot, Arthur’s eyes couldn’t help but wildly dart in hopes of seeing any famous celebrities in the midst of walking to set or coming out of any of the trailers that lined the outer edges of the road. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to see anyone of note beyond what appeared to be some stunt actors decked out in some recognizable costumes.
While he continued to search around, Arthur’s frantic attempts were suddenly interrupted as Peter put the car into park and caused you to violently lurch forward from the fast braking. Upon looking over towards the meek man, who apologized for the abrupt stop, Arthur decided to ignore the whiplash and unbuckle his seatbelt. Before exiting though, Peter quickly ran through the itinerary to remind him of the schedule for the day. First, Peter would give Arthur an in-depth tour of the All-American sets that weren’t currently in use. Then after getting some lunch, Arthur would be ushered to the current filming locations where he’d be able to watch some takes and meet the actors of the show. Upon finishing that, he’d be led to the writers room, where he could discuss screenwriting with them, before heading to get some dinner courtesy of the studio’s lavish buffet. After this was finished then, Peter would drive Arthur to the hotel that the contest had purchased for the night.
With the itinerary for the day repeated to him by Peter, Arthur eagerly smiled before getting out of the car so the tour could finally begin. Luckily, the tour was fairly impressive to Arthur, as evident by the wide smile on his face as he saw the sets of the show and began to recall countless scenes (and gifs from Tumblr) where Cody was involved. Although there were many interesting sets that Peter led him through, Arthur was by far the most captivated by the set of the college gym. The mental images of several workout gifs that he had seen (and even jerked off to) continued to play in his mind as his hands grazed along the freshly cleaned equipment.
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In all honesty, it was a bit of a bummer that it was so freshly cleaned because Arthur would have wanted nothing more than to get remnants of Cody’s sweat onto his fingers and catch a whiff of the surely alluring scent. Was it a bit creepy to think about getting off to an unsuspecting actor’s sweat? Sure, but Arthur knew that it was the wholehearted truth and felt no shame as a result.
Upon finishing up with that standout set, Peter followed it up by announcing that it was time for lunch given how hungry the Brit must be after the flight and drive to the studio. Although Arthur didn’t originally think about his appetite due to his excitement about eventually meeting Cody, the sudden gurgle deep in his gut was so loud that it echoed through the empty set and caused him to agree with Peter’s assumption. After following him through the seemingly empty studio, Arthur soon picked up on the sound of several distant voices that grew increasingly more prominent with each step he took. Peter pulled back a black curtain and motioned for Arthur to enter first, which caused him to quickly find himself in the middle of a craft services room. As the intern returned to the front to lead Arthur through the crowd of confused and curious low-tier members of the cast and crew, Peter took a moment to introduce Arthur to everyone and explain the reason behind his inclusion on set.
After Peter led him to the table to get a plate of food, which ended up being a filling yet basic meal of a sub sandwich and some chips, Arthur took the time to walk around and network with the crew members in between bites of his food. Given his own interest in film and the lesson plans that he’s had to do in the past involving cinematography, the man had a decent time talking with the lighting and camera operators to learn directly from them about their job and how they work to create the best possible show.
Although Arthur could have spent much longer chatting with people, the alarm of a clock rang out to signal that the end of lunch had arrived. While several of the crew members had their expressions sour as they returned to their job, Arthur stood out as he grinned in joy due to the realization that it was finally time to move onto his most anticipated part of the set visit - it was time to watch filming commence and meet some of the cast of the show.
As Peter led him through a door, Arthur was caught off-guard when the dense California air hit him. Looking around, the man soon discovered that not only was the set they were filming on was outside but it was a scene being filmed on a replica football field. Although the football field wasn’t completely legit given the fact that size constraints meant that they were shooting on a small plot of land rather than a 100 yard long area, the illusion was certainly still realistic to Arthur while seeing all of these actors decked out in football gear. In fact, the cameras were currently rolling as they filmed an actor sprinting before turning behind him to catch a football. Stunned at just how realistic the play felt, Arthur was utterly transfixed as the director called cut and the football player dropped the ball before sauntering out of the frame and gruffly demanding for someone to get him water.
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Given Arthur’s own thirst for cocky and dominant men, his eyes remained trained on the mystery actor while admiring the man’s physique. From just that single take that Arthur observed, he was able to immediately pick up on how buff the man was. While watching that take as it occurred, his attention was instantly caught by the moderately firm set of quad muscles and the sizable ass that tightly bounced against the athletic shorts that he was wearing. Although the man wasn’t a real football player, he certainly could have been one with such an impressive build!
While Arthur watched the still-helmeted actor move to the side and get crowded by a bunch of assistants (where one of them handed him a styrofoam cup full of water), he couldn’t force himself to direct his attention elsewhere. Even as Peter basically dragged Arthur closer towards some of the cast and crew, Arthur remained utterly transfixed by the man’s sweat-soaked skin that glimmered in the sunlight and only showcased an impressive set of biceps that caused the fabric around his arms to bunch up. As such, Arthur endured an incredible shock when the mystery man finally pulled off the helmet and revealed that the man was none other than Cody Christian himself.
“Ho- holy shit,” Arthur said under his breath, although his panic and shock caused it to be a bit louder than he intended as he saw several people turn to look at him confused. Now that’s one way to make an entrance, Arthur thought to himself, instantly replaying the scene he witnessed in his head over and over. Of course, the reveal that Cody was practically next to him elicited a physical response in the form of a sizable bulge that pressed out against his shorts. After moving his hands down to try and conceal the untimely boner that he had sprung, Arthur’s thirsting session was interrupted as Peter caught his attention and told him that it was time to meet some of the cast while they took a break from filming.
Although he meant no disrespect to the other cast members that Peter introduced him to, Arthur couldn’t help but make quick small talk with the people before using his peripheral vision to see what Cody was up to. Based on the few glances he had taken throughout, it seemed as though the man’s personality wasn’t too far from the characters that he often played. From what he could see and partially hear, it seemed as though Cody was having a tantrum and yelling at his assistants and other crew members due to how hot the conditions were outside and how they didn’t respect him enough to keep him hydrated by having water ready for him.
As previously mentioned, Arthur loved himself a bad boy, so while this would be a turn-off to some people, it only made the actor more desirable in his eyes. While the cashier certainly didn’t like how Cody was treated the staff, his mind twisted the man’s behavior and speech into a more sexual context as he envisioned himself intimate with the hunky actor. It wasn’t often that the asexual had vivid sex dreams, but something about Cody just unlocked something deep in him that left him yearning for any kind of physical intimacy imaginable.
This sexual daydream was quickly interrupted by Peter, who tapped Arthur on his shoulder and broke up out of that daze. “Hey Arthur, was there anyone here on set that you were specifically wanting to meet today? If so, I can try to see if I can get a meeting with them. If they’re not here on set today, I could always try to pull some strings by contacting their agent or manager and arranging a FaceTime session with them,” he inquired, giving a reassuring smile that caused Arthur to lean in and whisper Cody’s name. “Ah I see, well let’s see what I can do about that then huh,” Peter continued, smiling and patting Arthur on the back before using that arm to push him forward towards his celebrity crush.
Even though the journey was only a few feet, it felt like an eternity for Arthur as he watched his body traveling closer and closer to Cody. Once he was two feet away from the actor’s group surrounding him, Arthur couldn’t help but gasp as Peter loudly spoke to gain their attention. “Excuse me, excuse me,” he began, smiling as his voice was able to break through the small group and get everyone (including Cody) to turn and look at Peter and Arthur’s direction. “Hey there, this is Arthur Harris, he won a contest through the studio for a special set tour and meet and greet with the cast of All-American. According to Arthur, he’s a big fan of yours Mr. Christian, so I thought it would be nice to properly introduce you two,” he said, keeping a chipper smile on his face even though Cody’s expression remained cold and quite clearly rageful.
“Uh hi there, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Arthur stammered out, which caused a few people in Cody’s posse to pause upon hearing the British accent he was speaking with. “I’ve been a big fan for years, so it’s really awesome to get this-,” he continued, suddenly interrupted when Cody huffed loudly and began to speak.
“Hey dude, it’s great that you won this random contest or whatever, but I’m like really not in the mood for a meet and greet. Plus, I’m like, really in the zone with my acting right now. So even if I wanted to spend my precious time chatting with some obsessed British fan, I really don’t have the right mentality for this right now,” he coldly said, which immediately provided a soul-crushing blow to Arthur given how direct and biting his words were.
Even though the man had never met the British man before, his phrasing was so direct it seemed as though they had been enemies for years! Although he wasn’t the most vocal person around, the cruel words had struck a chord with Arthur and thus he felt a desire to make his opinion heard by the cocky actor. But just as he began to take a breath to speak, Arthur was interrupted as Cody angrily cursed and caused everyone on set to look at the interaction going on.
“Bro, I really don’t give a shit about what you have to say. Like, you’re a nobody and I’m Cody Christian. Everything about you pales in comparison to me. So how about this, why don’t you get the fuck off my set so we can finish our scenes and I can go home. The sooner I can forget about you and your dumbass fanboy behavior, the better!”
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Throughout the entire experience, Arthur could feel tears starting to well up in his eyes as he looked around and found that everyone there bore witness to his humiliation at the hands of the actor. Although he wanted so badly to tell the actor off and give him a taste of his own medicine, the fear of further punishment and potentially causing the actor to snap and get violent towards him caused him to back down. Instead, he allowed Peter to lead the way as the intern led the embarrassed man away from set to somewhere more secluded.
This location ended up being a small crew trailer that was quite a bit away from the liveliness of the active film crews. Upon entering, Arthur finally allowed his emotions to show as he began to actively tear up and try to release the pent-up emotions that he was feeling. Throughout, Peter found himself trying his best to console the man and lift his spirits, but it seemed to be no use. Then a light bulb suddenly flicked on in Peter’s head and caused him to smile and look down towards Arthur.
“Hey, don’t get upset about that asshole. What would you say if I potentially had a way to get some revenge on Cody?” Peter inquired, which immediately caused Arthur to stop his sniffling and look up.
“Wha- what do you mean?” he said, taking a deep breath in between his words as he tried to calm himself back down.
“Let’s just say that I have… something special that could teach Cody a lesson and make him regret treating you like that. What would you say to that?”
“Say no more then, I’m interested. That asshole has no right to treat people like that just because he’s an actor. I want him to pay for what he’s done, I want him to feel the same intense sense of humiliation and shame that I feel right now…”
In response, Peter reached into the pocket of his pants and searched around for a moment. Upon pulling it out and extending his hand outwards, the nerdy intern dropped his clenched fist and allowed a necklace to unfurl out in front of Arthur’s face. “Well, I think I have something in mind that can do just that…”
Looking at it, Arthur saw that the necklace itself seemed rather simple and basic given the fact that it was a silver key with a small silver chain looped through it. But as he grabbed it with his hands to inspect it, a full body shiver coursed through Arthur’s body, which was seemingly enough to get him to go along with whatever plan Peter had in mind.
“Ok, tell me what’s going to happen then and what I need to do…”
* * * * *
At first, Arthur was quite worried that he wouldn’t be able to find Cody’s trailer despite Peter’s directions, but it seemed as though Cody’s ego made sure that that was impossible. While walking through the backlot, Arthur eventually stumbled in front of a trailer that proudly had Cody’s headshot taped to the front door along with a bold and unmissable text that displayed his full name. According to Peter, Cody often took breaks alone in the trailer around this time to “unwind” and “get in character”, so the duo figured that this would be the perfect opportunity for Arthur to enact his revenge against his tormentor. So after having a moment to take a deep breath and steady himself, Arthur gave himself an encouraging nod as he pulled open the trailer door and quickly walked into the premises.
Of course, as Arthur entered up the steps and made eye contact with the hunky actor as he sat back in a leather recliner, the man’s expression quickly changed from the lax and seemingly happy expression he was displaying. Bizarrely though, the expression it became wasn’t of rage but rather total confusion.
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“Wha- who the fuck are you?” Cody inquired, which only furthered Arthur’s annoyance and dedication to his current plan. The asshole didn’t even recognize him even though the interaction just occurred less than an hour ago!
Feeling emboldened by the power that Peter had seemingly gifted him, Arthur found himself standing strong and angrily responding to the actor’s questions. “I’m the wrong guy to mess with, you fucking asshole,” he cried out, taking a few steps closer to Cody and crossing his arms.
“Wait, you’re that fucking obsessed fan from earlier,” Cody sneered, getting a bit uncomfortable being stuck with who he assumed to be a total creep. “How did you find my goddamn trailer? What, did you think you were going to just come in here and try to see me naked or something? Get the fuck out before I call security and get your pervy ass put in jail!”
“Yeah, that’s not happening Cody. You’ve been an asshole to the wrong people, it’s about time you pay for all of the bullshit you’ve put me and this crew through. Luckily, I have the perfect way to make sure that you learn your lesson,” he began, stopping before revealing the answer and thus causing Cody to get a rare shiver of panic to course through his body.
“What, are you going to try and hurt me because I wouldn’t say hi and take a fucking selfie with you? Grow the fuck up! I was working, I don’t have the time for such worthless bullshit!”
“I’m not going to hurt you, but I am going to make you regret the way you not only treated me but those poor assistants of yours. There’s no reason for you to be so stuck up and rude to people. I was a big fan of yours and I just wanted to get the ability to properly say hi and tell you how much I appreciated your work. Instead, you brushed me off and made me feel worthless like those poor assistants of yours.”
“Oh, so you’re making threats now huh?” Cody retorted, immediately pushing himself up from the recliner and sauntering his way over towards Arthur. With each step, the actor tried to make himself appear even more intimidating by clenching his fists and cracking his knuckles, allowing the noise of the popping to fill the empty trailer until he was face-to-face with the fan. “I don’t take threats lightly, so I don’t think you know who you’re messing with. I don’t think you thought this plan through bro…”
“You think so? Actually, you’re exactly where I need you to be,” Arthur responded, a wide grin emerging onto his face as a sudden tingle emerged from his chest.
Looking down at it caused Cody’s eyes to follow suit, which caused him to discover the gem on the necklace that Arthur was now wearing violently shaking against his firm chest. While this originally could have been explained by the jock actor as some cheap gimmick or gag gift, the sudden levitation of the necklace was unexplainable.
“Holy shit,” Cody exclaimed, watching as the key rose up until it was no longer hanging around Arthur’s neck but rather extended straight out towards Cody’s own neck. “Wha, what is that shit? Are you a goddamn witch?”
Before Arthur could offer up a response to the hilarious assumption though, the key suddenly jerked forward and caused Arthur to be dragged along for the ride. Given the fact that there wasn’t much free space for the man to move given Cody standing in front of him, Arthur instinctively closed his eyes and braced for impact as it tugged him directly towards the confused actor. Despite the lack of any physical impact of their two bodies, the tugging seemingly had an unintended side effect as Arthur found himself quickly drifting off into unconsciousness as his newly comatose body remained stuck in place. If he had been awake and looked down at the necklace though, Arthur would have seen that the key had somehow plunged itself deep into the center of Cody’s neck and caused his gasps of shock to become muted.
Although it was painless for Cody, it was still quite terrifying to endure finding himself no longer able to speak as his throat was stabbed by the key. So while his mind originally focused on the fear of no longer being able to speak or deliver lines, a new fear began to emerge as he opened his eyes and watched as the crazed fan was going through an indescribable sight. The longer it looked, it seemed as though pieces of Arthur’s body were seemingly being pulled off of Arthur’s body and turning into particles that were sucked into the thick silver key like a vacuum. It was quite a horrific sight to watch as the man lost limbs and several pieces of his body until only his head and neck remained levitating in front of him. But soon enough, this too dispersed into particles that were also transferred into the mysterious yet magical key in front of him.
Even without a neck wrapped around it, this key remained stuck in place lodged into Cody’s neck. Cody could only gasp in shock and allow tears to fall down his face as he could feel motion emerging with the key. Looking down, he watched as the key somehow turned itself sideways into his flesh and made it appear as though it was unlocking a doorway.
In reality though, the necklace itself was a magical item that promised the ability to transfer souls. Upon getting in close contact of an intended target, the necklace would go into action by inserting itself into the subject’s neck and allowing the wearer’s body to evaporate as their soul was transferred into the necklace as a sort of holding chamber. Upon having the necklace turned, it unlocked the usually impenetrable soul of the human body and allowed for the wearer’s soul to invade.
So as this unlocking occurred, the entirety of Arthur’s soul traversed into Cody’s neck and began to disperse itself throughout all of Cody’s body. With each additional second after this invasion, Cody found himself growing fainter and fainter as he lost all of his motor control and senses. Once every piece of this was taken from Cody and traded to its new host, Cody’s soul lost consciousness and caused the body of the hunky actor to suddenly collapse and fall to the floor. Upon making an impact, the key suddenly popped out of Cody’s throat and bounced across the wood floors of the trailer a few times before finally settling.
Out of nowhere, Arthur suddenly gasped as he was slingshot back into the realm of reality. Upon finding himself on the floor of the trailer, the man grimaced and groaned as he reached onto the end of the leather recliner and pushed himself back up to his feet. Looking around for a moment, Arthur’s eyes widened as he looked around and realized that he was alone now. As he took a look down at himself and saw the firm physique stretched out in the same clothes that he had previously seen Cody wearing, it didn’t take many more context clues for him to figure out what had occurred. “Holy shit, I’m Cody Christian,” he said, chuckling as his cock began to immediately harden at the thought of being in the body of his celebrity crush.
Eager to get a better look at himself, Arthur quickly grabbed onto the necklace on the floor and put it on before pacing through the small yet spacious trailer in search of a mirror. Upon finding a bathroom door and heading inside, the man flicked the light on and smiled gleefully as he saw Cody Christian staring back at his reflection. What soon followed was a rather intimate and erotic session of feeling up his body and admiring the gorgeous physique. As he lifted up his arms and flexed, the man’s cock throbbed and began leaking pre-cum due to just how erotic this all was. He was already a fan of transformation content, but the concept of actually experiencing a transformation of his own into one of his celebrity crushes was truly a dream come true.
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“Serves you right you fucking asshole,” Arthur remarked, chuckling while hearing the sound of Cody’s voice saying his words now. “Yeah, I know you’re still down there deep down. A little perk of using this trusty necklace made it so you’re still able to witness and feel everything that I do while I’m in control. You made me feel extreme amounts of shame and embarrassment from just simply saying hello, so I’m going to make every day of your life a living hell now.”
Before Arthur could continue explaining how exactly he was going to go about torturing the real soul of Cody Christian, a knock on the actor’s trailer door caused him to stop. Upon taking a moment to calm down and try his best to adopt Cody’s talking style, Arthur took a deep inhale and exhaled before making his way out towards the door. Pulling it open though, the man smiled widely as he saw Peter standing on Cody’s doorstep.
“Did it work?” the intern asked, trying his best to play it cool in case the real Cody was still around.
While he at first tried to play it cool and pretend as though he was really Cody, Arthur couldn’t keep the charade up long and thus broke character by curling his lips into a devious smirk. “Oh yeah, it worked,” Arthur said with a chuckle. “The Cody Christian that you know is now no longer in control…”
Opening the door wide to allow Peter inside, Arthur quickly slammed the trailer door shut and locked it as he prepared to get a crash course on acting and get a head start learning Cody’s lines before he’s required to head back to set in 20 minutes. Although it was certainly a struggle at first trying to comprehend the intricacies of acting and learning what Asher’s plotlines have been so far this season, it was totally worth it when it was finally time to change into the clothing necessary for the next scenes. When Arthur was handed a hanger that contained Asher’s football uniform, the man was buzzing with excitement as he headed into the bathroom and changed into his clothing. Despite wanting so badly to spend time checking out his new body nude and admiring every inch of his godly new muscles, Arthur was adamant about the fact that the new Cody Christian wouldn’t be tardy or a drama queen in any regard. As such, he pushed aside his erotic urges and instead pulled the uniform on.
While doing so, Arthur still had a blast as he was able to find his two favorite things colliding together into one thing. Not only was he now in the body of his celebrity crush but he was also getting dressed in an accurate football that was quite similar to those that the NFL players he thirsted for wore. It was an absolute dream come true! This was especially true taking a moment to check himself out in the mirror and seeing how the padded football pants helped his thighs and ass look impeccable while the skintight compression shirt fully showcased the strong arms, modest pecs, and broad shoulders that he could now call his own.
Upon pulling on the shoulder pads and then putting on the jersey, Arthur’s cock, which was now a few inches longer, was consistently throbbing as the look was completed and he saw his reflection. He truly looked and felt like a football star! With this much needed boost of confidence from Cody’s previous taunting, Arthur was most certainly in high spirits. This was especially apparent as he looked into the mirror and gave himself a pep talk. “You’ve fucking got this, you’re Cody Christian and you’re even better than that shitty imposter!”
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With this pep talk completed while also riding on the high of further tormenting the real Cody trapped deep down inside, Arthur gave an elated grin towards his reflection before exiting the bathroom and allowing Peter to lead him to set.
* * * * *
As shooting for the day was called, Arthur Harris was quite relieved to know how well his first day as an actor went. While remembering lines was one of his biggest worries, it seemed to be seamless for him as if he had gained Cody’s own ability to act and recall lines. The biggest issue actually came in the form of having to do the full-on football scenes that required him to actually run plays and catch the ball while in the role of Cody’s wide-receiver character. Luckily though, a quick refresher from some crew on the show was able to help Arthur fully grasp the plays and successfully nail the scene by rushing down the fake field and scoring the game-winning touchdown. Although it was obviously fake given the field and the numerous takes it took to get it right, Arthur still felt like a star football player when he “scored” and clenched the win for his character’s team.
While his time watching the shooting of some scenes was relatively brief, it was quite apparent that things were dense due to Cody’s diva behavior. But given the fact that the real Cody was no longer around and Arthur was on a mission of turning Cody into a more respectful and calm person, things began to feel a bit less restrained as the crew and cast began to interact more and thus started to create a sense of harmony on set.
This continued into the night until filming was finally finished after doing a workout scene in the college gym that Arthur had often seen hot clips of Cody working out in. It was quite mind boggling to find himself in Cody’s body while in the area that had led him to have plenty of wanking material. Even more wild was the fact that the scene called for Cody to be working out shirtless (something that the crew told him was due to feedback from focus groups that were aiming to appeal to more female viewers). Given the fact that Arthur hadn’t really gotten a great chance to check out his shirtless body, he was more than willing to go along with such a concept and eagerly peeled off his shirt.
While the crew offered to mist his skin to make him appear like he had been sweating, Arthur was quick the shut the idea down. “Nah, I’d like to go method for this scene,” he cockily remarked, giving a wide smile to the director which seemingly convinced him to agree. With permission granted, Arthur spent a few minutes working out on several machines until he was dewy enough for the camera to pick up on it. 
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Once the scene was shot and filming concluded for the day, Arthur opted to stay back and spend a little bit extra time in the gym set. After saying goodbye and thanking the crew for their hard work, Arthur watched as everyone slowly filtered out and went home for the day besides himself and Peter. Upon waiting a few minutes to verify that there were no stragglers that could return in case they forgot something, the duo finally began to speak and discuss the events of the day.
After Peter gave high praise to Arthur for his performance as Cody Christian, the duo shifted gears to discuss some other elements to their deal. Obviously, given the fact that Peter was able to provide the unbelievable reality of possessing Cody, there would be a requirement to reward Peter for the gift he had bestowed upon Arthur. Although there could have been a sizable monetary requirement for such a priceless gift, Peter’s ask was quite simple. All he wanted in return for giving Arthur Cody’s body was the chance to admire the actor’s physique and achieve his fantasy of getting Cody Christian off however he desired.
Given the fact that Arthur knew that he would surely be horny in the aftermath of possessing Cody, it was a no-brainer for him to accept such a proposition. Not only did he get someone else willing to worship his body, but he also got to cum in the process! With the agreement out of the way, Arthur wasted no time pulling off his clothing and revealing to the both of them for the first time the nude physique of Cody Christian. 
As Arthur lifted his arms up and flexed his biceps, Peter was quick to jump into action by peppering kisses along his firm upper arms and running his tongue along the musky pits of the freshly sweaty actor. All through the experience, Arthur had a look of pure elation on his face as he savored the sensation of feeling incredibly strong and masculine. Although he had gained a rather impressive physique from his years of working out, the man was still rather meek and thus didn’t really use those muscles for much when it came to any romance and intimacy. With Cody though, that would all change since he felt like the total package.
To make matters even erotic, Peter was desperate to add more humiliation for the real Cody by moaning his name as he ran his arms along Arthur’s back and firmly used a hand to squeeze each perky ass cheek that he now had. While his hands then traversed back up Cody’s broad back and moved to the front, Arthur even chimed in talking about how great it was to have his body felt up by someone smaller than him. This tit-for-tat continued between the duo as Peter cupped Arthur’s pecs and ran his tongue along the man’s washboard abs while Arthur continued on the slight taunting towards the thinner man.
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The idea seemed to be rather effective, as both men were soon rock hard and begging for release. Luckily, Peter recognized this fact for both of them and opted to do something about it. As he got down onto his knees and began to focus on toying with Arthur’s new cock, the former British man fell back onto the seat of the bench press and lifted his arms up while gasping. Despite seeming like a total novice when it came to sex, it appeared as though Peter was an expert as he sensually ran his tongue along Arthur’s new 9.5” shaft and even took a moment run his hands underneath Cody’s sweat-stained shorts to play with the straight actor’s tight asshole. Luckily though, the main event finally arrived as Peter opened his mouth and put his lips around Arthur’s cock. Before long, the two of them were loudly moaning (although Peter’s was muffled due to just how wide his mouth was spread attempting to wrap around the girthy manhood) as they both pushed desperately towards completion. Within seconds, the inevitable finally arrived as the duo came in unison, with Arthur’s thick load taking a quick journey down the back of Peter’s throat while Peter’s own cum splattered against his underwear in an intense fashion.
After Peter finished sucking and pulled his mouth off of Cody’s cock, the duo both laid down for a few minutes to catch their breath from such an erotic and unbelievable experience. When Arthur first received the invitation for the trip from Nate, he had no idea of just how life-changing it would be. Not only did he get to teach a cocky asshole a much-needed lesson, but Arthur also got a new body and life out of it… and the body of his idol no less! It was a dream come true, so much so that Arthur quickly said as much as he logged into his Discord account to send a message to Nate saying exactly that. While he promised to explain more later, Arthur ended the message by saying that the gift was the best thing he could have received.
Now eager to get out of the studio and explore what this new life has in store for him, Arthur said his goodbyes to Peter while talking about how he was excited to see him tomorrow. Although there was certainly no real attraction that Arthur felt for the meek nerd, it was safe to say that they would be friends forever due to the kindness that Peter had done for him. As he finally made his return to Cody’s trailer, Arthur rifled through the rather grand closet that had countless designer brands hung up. Feeling rather proud of himself for such a great performance as Cody Christian, Arthur opted to pull out a luxury suit and put it on. It was quite erotic to see the final result as he looked into the reflection in his bathroom mirror, especially given how form-fitting it was with his muscular build!
“Let’s go see what the life of Cody Christian has to offer huh?” He said to his reflection, lifting his arms up and giving a cocky flex that was punctuated with a wink to just further the humiliation towards the soul stuck powerless in his own body.  After grabbing Cody’s phone and wallet, a quick search through the trailer provided a set of car keys. Making his way out of the trailer, the man was quite amused to click the lock button of his key fob and see the lights of a brand new sports car light up.
Upon unlocking it and getting into the driver’s seat, the man oohed and ahhed at the leather seats he had as he turned the car over and felt the car purr to life. As he took a moment to press his foot onto the gas pedal and feel the engine powerfully rev up to the point where his body was shivering, a cocky smirk emerged on Arthur’s face as he felt drunk on unbridled power. Not only was he in a powerful car, but he was also now the proud owner of an even powerful body and life. All of those years of thirsting and blindly stanning the actor had paid off as Arthur was now for all intents and purposes Cody Christian through and through. With a body like this, he could get any man or woman he desired along with any role given his Prince Charming level good looks.
Even though he didn’t have a license or a car back in the UK, the brand new Cody Christian still felt no worries as he sped off into the night. He was a lucky man after all, and there was no way that he’d end up losing when he looked and felt this good!
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justmeinadaze · 1 year ago
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Children of the Night (Steddie X You)
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"Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!"- Dracula
A/N: "I present to you...this fucking thing." Lol always the TikTok that comes into my head when I try something new. I had started doing like a camboy Steddie thing but I struggled a lot with it and the feelings I wanted to convey. While listening to a song, this idea popped into my head so... I hope you enjoy it!
For the first half, everyone is referred to by their screen names.
Eddie is Dracula.
Steve is Renfield
Reader is Mina
I also set it in 2005 when things like streaming were relatively new and cameras weren't 100% clear.
Warnings: Camboys Steddie (Vampire Eddie and Human Steve) X Human Fem Reader, SMUT of the Steddie variety, Daddy kink (because im me lol), choking, biting. ANGST, blood is mentioned mostly from Eddie feeding, the reader has an abusive boyfriend so Domestic Violence Trigger, Eddie defends her and both boys take care of her. I think that's it.
Word Count: 4046
InnocentLittleMina: Hey sexy boys.
You grinned at your computer screen when you saw the long-haired boy smirk under his mane of hair.
“Hey, honey. How are you tonight?”, the other man smiled lovingly into the camera.
InnocentLittleMina: I’m alright. Can’t complain. What about you?
“I’m ok. As you can see Dracula is a little grumpy.”, he teases. 
“I’m hungry.”, he growls making you giggle. 
When you first saw these boys known only as Dracula and Renfield, you were drawn to them immediately. There was something about them that was not only attractive but confident as hell and it drove you wild. People around town talked about them constantly which was interesting since Los Angeles was a huge city. In 2005, there weren’t many people streaming, let alone broadcasting the content they were. 
 Everyone including police tried to track them down but never could. Their website itself was fairly generic but that’s not what their fans cared about. What they cared about was the content these two provided. 
The man known as Dracula would feed of off the other man known as Renfield and nine times out of ten it led to something sexual. The first time you heard Renfield moan, your pussy clenched around nothing. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Not many of their fans stayed after they finished but you always did, loving the way Dracula took care of Renfield after. They seemed to genuinely care about each other and that was something you appreciated. 
When you created your account you hoped it would get their attention and as luck would have it, it did especially since a lot of the female fans that watched them named their accounts after the character Lucy always believing that was the girl Dracula fell for. 
After a few months of back and forth, you actually came to know them as friends. Dracula didn’t talk as much as his friend but he did chime in where necessary and played his guitar for you once or twice making you swoon. Renfield always asked about your day and told you things about their time away from the computer but you couldn’t help but feel like they were holding information back. 
You asked them constantly why they decided on this particular vampire style content and theme and every time they changed the subject. You asked once how they faked the blood that stained Renfield’s chest when they were done and they pretended like they didn’t hear you. You asked them for their real names and each time they said their screen ones making you sigh. 
To make up for being obtuse and hoping to distract you, Renfield offered you a job as their moderator and paid you fabulously for your time. Since they trusted you enough with their business, you met their kindness with one of your own by turning on your webcam and showing them your face. 
Dracula’s eyes had turned towards you, grinning at your beauty. 
“Pretty girl.”
“Very.”, Renfield agreed. 
It had been a few months since then and you were extremely fond of them both. 
InnocentLittleMina: Ok, well, you have your stream in a few minutes so… don’t get too hungry! You need and love him.
“I do.”, Dracula smiles.
“We’ll talk to you after, honey.”, Renfield winks and you watch as they get into their places on the bed behind them. 
***
A little sigh left your lips as both men removed their shirts. Dracula’s tattoos on his chest always had you entranced. You noticed the first time you watched them that they both had scars along their stomachs up to their necks but that was a question you knew better than to ask. Trauma like that was none of your business unless they chose to tell you. 
The stream began and you kept your eyes peeled as fans began pouring in. They never said a greeting nor even said hello. You figured part of it was because by this point Dracula’s eyes were black like a shark on the hunt and those contacts had to be killing him. 
Straddling Renfield’s waist, Dracula tenderly kissed the man’s neck before gripping his fluffy hair in his hand and tugging him back as he bit into his skin. Renfield’s palms promptly came around to cling to Dracula’s head as his eye’s rolled and he fell backwards onto the mattress. 
A heavy exhale escaped you at the sight, licking your tongue across your lips as his hips began grinding up against his own. 
“Fuck. That’s it, baby. Take what you need.”, Renfield moaned. 
Something happened. Dracula’s head abruptly shot up looking vacantly in the distance. 
“What? What’s wrong? Wh-What do you feel, honey?” He cooed underneath him as he ran his fingers across his cheek and moved some of his messy hair back. 
“Mina.”, he growled. 
That got your attention as you sat up straighter. They both swiveled their heads towards the computer before you heard heavy footsteps and immediately yanked the cord from the wall just as the door opened. 
“John! Hey. I-I didn’t think you’d be coming over tonight.”
“You say that like you’re not excited to see your boyfriend.”
“Pfft. No, baby, I am. You just scared me is all. H-How was your day?”
His stern blue eyes flicked towards your little pink razor phone by your end table as it continued to vibrate. The boys knew your number. You gave it to them when they hired you. 
Please don’t let him walk over there to see. 
“Are you going to get that?”
“No, baby. I want to talk to you. Tell me about your day. I missed you—”
“Answer. The phone. Y/N.”
You sighed, pretending to be annoyed he was making you answer a random call as you flipped it open. 
“Hello?”
“Mina?! Are you alright?!”
“I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong number.”
You can hear them arguing in the background, vaguely picking up tidbits as your boyfriend steps closer to you. 
“I can feel her. I know where she is! Something bad is about to happen to her!”
“NO! You can’t reveal yourself and bring her into our mess! She deserves to have a better life!”
“She won’t have a fucking life, Steve, if this fucker kills her!”
“I always knew I’d catch you cheating on me sooner or later. Give me the phone.”
“John, I’m not… I would never…”
“Give it to me NOW.”, he snarls. You do as he says and as soon as your device touches his palm, his free one flies across your face smacking you so hard you fall on to the mattress. “Whoever this is, what you have with my girl is over.”
The growl that came through your phone’s speaker scared even you as you heard it loud and clear from where you were. 
“You’re going to regret touching her. If I were you, little man, I would leave now.”
With that there was silence and John threw the phone across the wall hoping to smash it into pieces. You two began fighting each other but he was much stronger than you, getting a good hit to your eye making you dizzy.
The banging of the door caving in is loud and your eyes are half open when you see a blur fly into your room, tackling your boyfriend to the ground. You hear his screams but they sound so far away. After a few minutes, everything is silent again and your arms fly out defensively when a hand touches your side. 
“No! No please!”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Mina. I never would. Just hold on to me, ok?” You feel your body being lifted and you press your cheek against cold, bare skin. “Clasp your hands around my neck, sweetheart.”
After barely registering his command, you feel a sudden rush of wind and after a minute you find yourself being placed on a bed that isn’t yours. 
“Have you lost your fucking mind!? Killing someone and then bringing her here!?”
“How do you know I killed him?”
“Because I fucking know you!”
“Can you stop berating me and help her, please!?”
A much warmer hand tenderly moves your hair back as something wet is dragged across your face making you jump.
“Hey, hey now. Everything’s ok. I just need to clean your cuts here. Can you go get me some ice, please?” Wind lightly blows your hair back twice before you hear the pack slam into his hand. “Thank you. What, um, what was happening when you got there?”
“He was hitting her. I’ve felt his anger before but this was different.”
“So you did go hunting for her even though I told you a thousand times not to.”
“No.”, he snarled, voice deep with annoyance. “I can just…feel her. I don’t get it either ok?!”
“Oh wow.” The wet rag was replaced with the cool of the ice pack as the man’s voice beside you got louder. “You like her.”
“And you don’t? She’s beautiful, kind, funny—”
“Innocent.”
“Fuck. Off. Little boy. Or I swear to God—”
“You swear to God what? Finish that sentence, Dracula. I dare you.” The man scoffed as he focused his attention back on you. “Go clean up your fucking mess while I take care of her.”
There’s a whoosh of air and everything in the room stills. 
################
You woke up the next morning in utter confusion. You vaguely remembered your boyfriend being angry and attacking you but then…someone saved you. Turning to your side, you noticed you were at home in your room tucked safely under the covers. 
Carefully standing, you glance around the room to find nothing out of place except for your phone by your bed that was broken in half.
Loud knocking on the door, startled you before you power walked to see who it was before answering. Sighing, your best friend doesn’t even wait for you to fully open the door before she barges in.  
“Ma’am! I have been calling you all morning and your phone goes straight to voicemail! What’s going—“ She freezes when she sees your face. “Y/N! Oh my god! What happened?!”
“Nothing, Lilly. I’m fine. I just—”
“Fell? You always say that. Where is that fucker? Is he here? I’m going to kill him.”
Lilly stomps towards your bedroom and you quickly run after her but you’re not one percent sure why. Him being attacked was a dream you had, right?
“Hm. Well, next time I see him he’s dead. Jesus, looks like he destroyed your phone. Come on. Let’s go the store so we can get you a new one. Maybe one of those sleek shiny new ones with the screen you touch.”
“But I like my razor phone. It’s shiny enough.”, you smile as you change to go out into the world. 
***
As you amble around the phone store, you friend continues to babble about mundane things that you barely hear. What does catch your attention is a group of girls talking in the corner. Pretending to look at the devices in front of you, you slide closer to them as you listen in.
“Did you see their stream last night?”
“It started getting good but then Dracula disappeared to ‘save Mina’. Like are they kidding?”
“I hope they aren’t mixing plot with their sex-ca-pades.”
“Now if they want to add a Mina I think that’d be hot but don’t just cut a stream short like that!”
“Y/N! Did you find what you want?”, your friend practically shouts making you and everyone around jump. 
“Yes! Good God, Lilly. Lower your voice.”
“Aw. I love you to.”
***
Staring at your blank computer screen, you debated on even signing on. All the clues were telling you what happened last night was real but that can’t be, right? You had called John multiple times to no avail and even went to his house with no answer. Checking the message boards of their fan group, others were saying what the other group had said about them cutting mid-stream and Dracula abruptly vanishing. 
What happened?
“Hey, honey—Oh my god, Mina what happened?!”, Renfield asked as soon as you signed in. Dracula was sitting beside him, his arms folded as he starred off to the side. Turning on your mic, you decided you needed to know the truth. 
“I was going to ask you that.”
“Us? Why? The last time we saw you was before our stream.”
“Really? I could swear I heard Dracula’s voice in my house and then you two fighting while I was passed out.”
“Huh. A dream maybe? I mean, we’re pretty far from you.”
“Oh yeah? Where?”
Your stern tone had Dracula turning to face the screen as Renfield sighed. 
“Far, Mina.”
“How would you know? I don’t even know your names let alone where you live.” You glare at your computer, feeling a confidence you had never felt before. “Did you kill John? Or hurt him?”
“Who cares what happened to that asshole? You deserve better.”, Dracula answers in a deep tone of his own that made you a little bit nervous but you ignored it as you pushed forward. 
“Again, how would you know? You never met him.”
“Don’t need to see him to see the damage he inflicts on you every time he comes over. Why do you put up with it, sweetheart? Because you think you deserve to be treated like trash?”
“How did you get here so fast? People are saying you disappeared after saying my name.”
“This was a mistake.”, Renfield whispers to the boy beside him.
“I’m not afraid of you…either of you. I just…I just want answers.”
Dracula’s eyes darken as he turns to Renfield. 
“No. No! Don’t you fucking—” 
Before he had finished his sentence, the long-haired boy was gone and you heard your front door open as a breeze hit your face. 
“You may not be afraid of us now, little one, but you will be.”
With that, he lifted you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and in the blink of an eye you were back in a room you vaguely remembered. 
##############
“Why am I even here? You never fucking listen to me!”, Renfield whined.
“Sit.”, Dracula commanded you as he pointed towards a chair. “Not a sound. Do you hear me?”
You nod completely frozen in fear at the speed of which he even brought you back to their house. 
“You to. Sit.”
“Fuck you. Are you kidding me right now? After everything we’ve done to avoid getting caught—”
The man choked on his words as a strong hand wrapped around his throat and walked him backwards towards the end of the bed.
“I’m not in the fucking mood to have this argument right now, Steven.”, Dracula growled angrily. “I didn’t get to finish eating last night and I’m starving.”
“You…you didn’t…eat her boyfriend. I’m…shocked.”
Your eyes widened at his audacity to talk back even in the position he was currently in. Plus, he always seemed so gentle so hearing him talk this way startled and excited you. 
Dracula’s eyes fluttered closed as he dropped Renfield who promptly gasped for air.
“Jesus Steve, if you could fucking smell what I smell you’d do anything for her to. You think she’s scared but she’s not. She’s turned on.”, he whispers as you watch him adjust himself in his jeans.
“Steve?” They both turn to look at you as you suddenly speak. “Renfield is Steve. W-Who are you, Dracula?”
The man can feel your heart beat slow as you find a sense of grounding in your current chaos. He wasn’t lying when he said he could feel you weren’t afraid but you were extremely confused, trying to make sense of a reality that they both had long accepted. 
“Eddie. My real name is Eddie.”
Your hand shakes as you point to your chest. “My name is Y/N.”
Something in their room beeps as they give each other their attention once again. 
“You’re insane if you think we’re streaming right now.”
Eddie points his finger at you once more as his voice deeply rumbles. 
“No noise. Not even a squeak.”
They get into a position you’ve seen numerous times but this time the energy is different. The man you now know as Steve clenches his jaw as he tilts his head to expose his neck. 
A ring laced hand reaches out to cup his cheek and turns his face towards his own as he leans his forehead on his. 
“Please don’t be this way. I need you.”, Eddie whispers. 
“Yeah. For this right? Because you sure as hell don’t listen or care about my opinion.”
As they murmur to each other, you imagine it’s too low for the mic to pick up but you can hear it and the pain in both their voice breaks your heart. The metalhead’s dark eyes flick towards the web cam before settling back on the man beside him. 
“I do, sweetheart. I care about you and what you have to say. It’s because of you I’m still here…I’m safe.”
Steve’s eyes flutter slightly as his admission as he blinks back tears. 
“I love you.”, he whispers as he kisses his forehead. 
“I love you to, baby. Come here. Let me take care of you to.”
Eddie tenderly pushed Steve back against the mattress, pulling down his sweats and boxers, and tossing them to the floor. When his cock sprang free, Eddie wasted no time, licking and kissing his tip before enveloping him fully into his mouth. 
“Fuck.”, Steve whimpered as he reached down to tangle his fingers in the boy’s messy hair. 
Lifting his head, he spit on the man’s dick and twisted his wrist as his palm smeared his saliva along his length. 
“Such a good boy for me always, aren’t you, baby?”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
“Sometimes I can be a bad boy and not think.” While pumping his hand faster, Eddie leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “But Steve, you were right. I like her so fucking much. You can’t tell me you don’t want to make her moan. Taste that sweet pussy I smell practically dripping from here.”
Steve’s eyes turned to meet yours as he continued to speak. 
“Feel a beautiful woman’s tight cunt choke your dick again.”, Eddie tightened his fist as if to prove his point as he quickened his pace. “To have a girl in our lives again who isn’t afraid of us and makes us feel complete.”
Steve craned his neck back towards Eddie as he passionately kissed his lips. 
“Take what you need, honey, please.”
Unbuckling his belt, he pushed his jeans down enough to free his cock, and both men mewl as Eddie guides himself into his entrance. You couldn’t help when your hand slid between your shorts and you rubbed your clit. Their moans, Eddie’s passion as he thrust into him, and Steve’s tenderness when he clung to his back drove you wild. 
“Can—shit—can you hear it, baby? The sound her fingers between her legs.” Steve nodded as he waited for Eddie to truly take him. “Fuck, you feel so good. Are you ready?”
“Y-Yes, sir. I’m ready.”
From your angle you couldn’t see much of what happened next. Eddie’s head tilted slightly and Steve’s entire body arched as he held the man closer to him. The metalhead’s pace quickened as he slammed his hips into his partners.
“J-Just like that, Daddy, fuck.”
Eddie grunted as one of his hands came up to cup the boy’s cheek as if to hold him still as he sucked on his neck. Steve shuddered as his eye’s rolled and he came. Eddie’s own rhythm faltered just enough as his grip tightened on his boyfriend’s hair and released his seed inside of him. 
Steve became limp as the man above him continued to roll his hips till he had given him everything he had and came off his neck with a loud syrupy smack. Your own body trembled as you came, covering your mouth as to not give yourself away. 
Eddie crawled down the man’s frame as he headed for the opposite corner of their room to the mini fridge where he grabbed two water bottles and a power bar. Normally, they left the cameras on to show the aftercare but this time, he sauntered towards his computer and promptly ended the stream. 
After handing a bottle to you without looking your way, he immediately focused on Steve. 
“Sit up, sweetheart. There we go. Here eat this for me ok?”, he coos as he hands him his snack before leaning under the bed and producing a first aid kit. You watched with studious eyes as Eddie grabbed a rag and cleaned the blood from his neck while Steve daintily nibbled on the bar in his hands. “Good boy. Drink some water.” His fingers tenderly pushed back some of the boy’s hair as he kissed his shoulder. 
“S-S-So, this is real. You’re really a vampire?”
He heavily sighs as he looks your way. “I am.”
“And what is Steve?”
“My boyfriend. He…he takes care of me.”
“How? What? I…I have so many questions.”
“Tomorrow, little one. He won’t be back to 100% for another few hours and even then he’s had a long couple of days. Here. Let me take you home.”
“NO! I mean…please. May I stay?”
“Um, yeah sure. I don’t see why not. Let me see if we have any clean spare sheets for that guest bedroom we have.”
Once he leaves, you sit by Steve’s side and glance over the wound on his neck. 
“He should really cover these up since they’re kind of deep.”
“Pfft. They’ll be gone by tomorrow. Eddie uses vampire voodoo whatever he can to make sure he doesn’t leave a scar. As you noticed, honey, we have enough.”, he giggles. “He’s right you know. You are very beautiful. I’ve always thought so.” You softly smile as his palm lazily comes up to trace your now black eye from yesterday. 
“Fucking asshole. He’s lucky I can’t run in the blink of an eye.”
“Steve, sweetie, why don’t you lay back?”, you grin as he limply nods and scoots his head up towards the pillows. 
“Y/N. I have to keep saying it so I don’t forget. Y/N.”
As his eyes close, you lay on your side beside him and run your fingers along his cheek till your palm rests on his chest. 
“He’s fine.”, Eddie announces from the doorway where he had been observing you two talk. “I never take enough that would kill him or turn him. That first night though I did the same thing.”, sighs as he gestures towards your hand. 
“Is it ok if I stay with him?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll just hang out in this room here—”
“You can lay here if you want. I don’t mind.” He scans you over making you slightly self-conscious. “I mean…unless…you have a coffin you sleep in or…”
Eddie laughs as he comes to the opposite side of the bed and lays on his back.
“No coffins, princess. I sleep here with him.”
“I’ve never heard you laugh before or even seen you really smile. It looks good on you.”
He smiles as he turns on his side and brushes some of your hair away from your face. 
“Y/N.”
“Eddie. I like your names better than your screen ones. Plus both Dracula and Renfield’s stories end tragically.”
“Maybe Eddie and Steve’s stories did end tragically…”, he muses. “Or it was the only book he and I actually read in school.”
You giggle as he grins your way before he’s taken aback when you roll over and pull his arm over your waist. Most people feared him especially back in their hometown. It had been so long since anyone besides Steve touched him without hesitation and he didn’t realize how much he missed the contact. 
Even though he soothed your worries, your hand still rested against Steve’s chest making sure it was still rising and falling at a normal pace. There was a lot you didn’t know about them but you were dying to find out.
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mj1343 · 8 months ago
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The Fallout Show, The NCR, Vegas, and Taking a Chill Pill
Fallout Show spoilers hi
i knew when i saw they were going to touch Shady Sands people would get angry regardless of what they did and i totally 100% understand being upset with the treatment of that location and the choices of writing that it took to get there but i genuinely do not understand the sentiment that Vegas is noncanon all of a sudden
Shady Sands is where the NCR formed and the first capital but they do not exclusively exist there. We know by New Vegas the NCR holds a lot of territory, and has territories they want to claim in the future:
'Hayes: "Sure can. The NCR was founded from the survivors of one of the great Vaults. We started as a small settlement called Shady Sands. We now consist of 5 states, that make up the greatest nation since the Great War."'
'NCR history holodisk: "Founded eighty years ago, the NCR is now comprised of the states of Shady, Los Angeles, Maxson, Hub, and Dayglow. Approximately 700,000 citizens are pleased to call NCR home."
In fact, we SEE a small sect of NCR remnants IN THE SHOW. I know a small group of people does not equate an entire nation but just the fact people are still fighting under the flag means they are not magically game ended forever and it is VERY overzealous to assume the ENTIRE NCR was housed in Shady Sands as late as 2277 when we know they were incorporating new territories before AND AFTER 2277
On the 'Vegas is a desolate nuked wasteland' front, i also genuinely do not understand it because, shockingly, locations IRL are larger than they are in the game!!!! The Strip in New Vegas is what, two cells? and one road with 4 casinos on it? The irl Strip is a 4 mile stretch of road that can have anywhere from 30 to 50+ casinos depending who you ask and over 100 casinos in all of Vegas easily. I understand they flash the Lucky 38 and the New Vegas sign to get excitement built but we have to look at scale a lot differently in the show than in the games. There are many scenes (which i have criticized) that are completely empty deserts for miles to see. Hell, the scale of the Vaults is different because they need to actually function as a building and not a location in a video game.
Yes. We see a few dead securitrons in the ending. You know where else you can find dead securitron? Littered about in the hit 2010 role playing game Fallout New Vegas. This is not a sign of desolation. This is a sign of some wasteland asshole killed a few. There are no people on the strip because this is supposed to drum up intrigue and tease a second season. We Do Not Know what has happened in Vegas. There could be hundreds of people on the strip and we just dont see them because they wanted a moody shot with no one in it. We have no idea. But you want to know what i can reasonably assume? it WASNT NUKED. because SHADY SANDS WAS NUKED AND ITS A CRATER AND YOU CAN STILL SEE EVERYTHING IN VEGAS STANDING. This is a post apocalypse franchise that, for better or worse (mostly worse) prides itself on Not Fixing Things from 200 years ago. A broken building or sign in New Vegas at the end of the show Does Not Mean New Vegas is completely removed from canon.
I know. I know you guys cannot be happy with anything Bethesda touches. I know you refuse to just take a breather for a moment. And i understand and entirely agree nuking a notable location from the original games is dirty. i am not giving Bethesda credit. There was some good in the show and some bad. I Understand. But this show has not decanonized New Vegas in any way and i truely do not understand the outrage from this point of view specifically. You can be angry about anything else. i know i cannot stop you if i wanted to. You will always find something to be mad about. But PLEASE think critically about this for a moment
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thewhumpcaretaker · 2 months ago
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⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. I - Lucky Find
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ཐི♡ཋ��� Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ
Summary: On a visit to his home country, Sebastian LaCroix has the good fortune to find a beautiful and powerful Marquis dying of a bullet wound. Why not take him home as a ghoul?
Author's Note: Okay, um...remember when I said this was a one-shot? Excuse me while I spit out another enemies-to-lovers slowburn because I can't help myself. I may or may not finish it, but I'd rather give the story plenty of room to breathe than rush through it, even if I don't get to the end. I'm excited to see where it goes!
TW: hallucination, kidnapping, religious imagery, vampires doing vampire stuff
If you have a century or two to wait, sometimes the world delivers gifts, just lying there, ready to be pocketed. A seashell, pearlescent and only a little chipped at the edges. A shiny new quarter forgotten on the sidewalk. Los Angeles.
It even might deliver what Sebastian LaCroix would have called, in his day, a “dandy”, freshly dying, on the steps of the Sacré-Coeur Basilica.
Only minutes remained until sunrise. LaCroix’s heart, though it had no need to beat, contracted in terror at the nearness of sunlight, at the piercing golden glow already illuminating that beautiful creature’s parted, breathless lips. This was risky business, swooping in like a vulture at such a time. A little longer, and they might never have met. Sebastian thought of that too often in the days and years and centuries that followed.
Only minutes remained until the bullet in his brain would have laid waste to the most vigorous life force Sebastian had ever encountered.
But as matters stood, he watched from the shadowy columns where he had chosen to shelter during the daylight hours of his visit to France, and clung to the sound of a distant pulse. It persisted (though feebly) even once its scent exploded into open air.
A great bulk of a man in a dark overcoat bowed down his head and sighed. He lifted Vincent’s body with the solemnity of one who knows what death means, and carried it within, into the shadow where Sebastian waited, under those forgotten awnings just beyond the pews. The carnival of stained-glass light pouring through the windows did not penetrate there.
As they passed, the man halted, overcome with a sudden unease, and could not move his feet. Sebastian smiled on him, an open hand outstretched. “Would you allow me to bless this man before he passes on?”
The man had, of course, no choice, and he would not remember laying his charge at Sebastian’s feet, or saying, “Who are you, sir? A man of God?”
“Think of me as a healing angel.”
He stared, knowing quite frankly that this was bullshit. He could see a barely restrained urge to devour flaring up within Sebastian even now, not so different from the look his own superior had worn on occasion, equally recognizable on both kindred and kine. “If you are an angel, then so is he.”
.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.
There was never total certainty that it would work. A headshot was unfortunate to say the least, and even with a truly massive outpouring of vitae, the bullet still had to be pushed out of Vincent’s brain, dragging on the neurons as it went.
There wasn’t physical pain, exactly. No nerves are to be found in the grey matter. Inside the brain itself, the only pain is mental.
Time and place fragmented themselves, breaking apart in front of Vincent to form a dazzling kaleidoscope. He was drifting on his back, through a flooded Château de Versailles. The water must have been deep, because he was lifted so high, close to the frescoed ceiling where angels leaned down over him amongst the roiling clouds. Why was the palace full of water? No…not water. Blood. Of course. He was being carried up to judgement on the tide of blood he’d spilt, that was it. He could hear his own music coming from another room, the reveries he used to play at the piano, but it was wildly distorted, devolving into devils’ trills. The angels crawled down over the mountains of clouds, over the ledge of the upper moulding, down the columns on all fours to descend on him, snarling as angels never snarl, with fangs at their lips. Their unnatural motions sparked a total horror in him but he could not flee, could only float paralyzed on the sea of blood that was starting to seep into his mouth, into his eyes. They were upon him, someone was bending over him, a face that flickered and distorted and jeered. A devil. His father. Then John Wick. His heart strained with wild terror.
“Your heartbeat is growing stronger. Good. It took long enough.”
And the face resolved. It was, at least, none of the faces he had feared a few moments ago. And it wasn’t unpleasant to look at, with strikingly high cheekbones and full lips, with a strawberry blond slick of hair and eyes like pools of pale honey. It had a magnetism about it, deeper than its inherent charm and beauty. He had trouble looking away from that face – it was in focus even though the rest of the world remained blurred, and it made something sickly sweet well up inside of him. He could have forgiven the cruel satisfaction painted all over it, but that sweet magnetism, tugging on his heartstrings…he could not forgive that. He decided that whoever this was, he disliked them very, very much.
For a few moments, Vincent tried to speak, but his brain had not yet made contact with his tongue, it seemed. He just gasped and gasped until the man laughed and held up the bullet, coated in blood. “Can you believe this little scrap of metal was all it took to put you into a state of such total confusion? And you would be far worse off if I hadn’t taken a liking to you. Life is so fragile.” And the man…well, there was no getting around it. He popped the bullet into his mouth like a candy and licked his fingers, apparently savoring the taste, before pulling it out of his mouth again, sucked clean of blood. He swallowed and grinned widely, this time baring fangs.
Okay. So he was still hallucinating, then. Good good, nothing to worry about. Just slowly breathing his last breaths on the steps of the Basilica, hallucinating violently while John Wick probably gloated over his body. It was fine! Everything was fine. The world started to go fuzzy and dark at the edges as his wild gasping continued.
“Oh no no no, you’re not passing out again just yet. Solo jet rides are interminably dull. We ought to use our time wisely and get to know each other.” The man slapped lightly at his cheek, trying to keep him conscious. Vincent felt his brows furrow, and couldn’t control his muscles enough to wipe that affronted look off his face.
“Who…who…” do you think you are, that had been his intention for the sentence. But he couldn’t quite get there, and the man answered just the same.
“Sebastian LaCroix, Camarilla Prince of Los Angeles and your new regnant.” The man took his hand and shook it. “Of course, none of that means anything to you just yet, but it will very soon.”
It didn’t, except for “Los Angeles.” Vincent was still catching up to the part about “jet rides,” and noticing that the ceiling above them was curved in the manner of an aircraft cabin. Where the hell was he? Was he…kidnapped? A feeling set in then. Whether it was made of greater parts relief or sinking dread, he couldn’t tell. But he had the feeling that this was far too vivid to be a hallucination.
He wasn’t dead after all, and Sebastian LaCroix, whatever he may be, was real.
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