#moving 2 minnesota this time !! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imaginespazzi · 6 months ago

Text

Part 7: Home

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to (us)

(In which with bittersweet feelings, a nostalgic writer, finally writes the end of the story)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 7.1K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my loves! I can't believe we've actually reached the end, who would have thought huh? I'm not sure if there will be an epilogue, mainly cause I don't know what I'd write but never say never. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter and if I've done the end I pictured justice but I really hope y'all like it anyways. There's a fair amount of creative liberty taken with WNBA logistics but please just accept it for the plot. Per usual, did I edit? Yes. Are there grammar mistakes and typos anyways? Yes. As always, let me know what you liked and disliked. And finally, to all my lovelies who have liked, reblogged, commented, sent in an ask, dm-ed me or simply just silently read this fic, I just wanna say thank you guys so, so, much, y'all have made writing every word worth it and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much I enjoyed writing it <3

August 2018

Paige swears, tonight, there are stars in the Minnesota night sky she’s never seen before in her life. The summer sky has darkened with nightfall, yet the shine of the moon and its companions make it still seem ever so bright. Or maybe, it’s just the girl lying next to Paige that makes tonight feel luminescent, sparkling with the promises of something not quite like friendship that Paige has never felt before. She’d spent the whole day with Azzi at the Minnesota State fair, trying to suppress these new butterflies in her stomach that seemed to have taken birth over their time in Latvia. Or well, maybe they’d been there from the start, but they’d really only started this dance of theirs, the one that makes Paige feel all tingly when Azzi smiles, over the course of this summer.

“Paige it’s cold, stop hogging the blanket,” Azzi chastises, breaking Paige from a trance, as she tugs on the pink and purple blanket covering the two of them, “I knew we should have brought two of them.”

“It’s barely on me” Paige argues for the sake of arguing but she shifts anyway to allow the younger girl to pull the blanket, so clearly meant for one person, a little more towards her, “besides, it’s about sharing body heat.”

“You’re not even warm enough to share body heat,” Azzi mocks as she makes a show of tracing a finger down Paige’s arm and everything in the blonde feels like it’s been lit on fire at the touch. And she wonders if Azzi feels it too, the electricity, the sparks of this could ruin me that scatter through her veins before finding themselves setting her heart ablaze. It’s too much and Paige shakes Azzi’s hand off with a little more force than she means too.

When Azzi sends her questioning look, she splutters through an excuse, “your hands are cold too. Can we just do the boring shit we’re here to do.”

"Stargazing is not boring,” Azzi says indignantly, opening the little stargazing booklet she’d brought with her, flicking through the pages looking for something specific.

To be honest, sitting still in an open field and squinting at the sky trying to figure out a distant constellation isn’t really Paige’s brand of entertainment. She’s a fidgety person by nature, constantly embroiled in the urge to be moving. But Azzi had brought it up the other day, with pleading eyes and a hopeful grin and well, sometimes it felt sinful to deny Azzi of anything she wants. And that’s how they’d ended up at a campsite, not too far from the State fair, lying on the grass, heads tilted towards each other, with a single blanket shielding them from the summer breeze.

“Okay,” Azzi says after a while, using her fingers to point out a pattern in the sky, “I think that one’s Cassiopeia.”

“If you say so,” Paige nods, not really sure what she’s supposed to be looking at.

“Paaaaige,” Azzi whines, “focus.”

“Dude I can barely see anything, the fuck am I supposed to focus o-”

Before Paige can finish her sentence, she feels herself being pulled by the younger girl, the side of her body fitting into the crook’s of Azzi’s like a perfect puzzle piece. She looks over at the brunette, and the protest dies on the tip of her tongue, as she realises just how close Azzi is to her now, all semblance of air leaving her lungs. Paige gulps, eyes tracing every inch of her best friend’s face, stopping of their own accord at Azzi’s lips, before guiltily flashing back to meet the younger girl’s eyes which are just as focused on Paige. And it feels like there’s no force in this world right now that could make either of them look away. Except maybe the force of friends don’t do this.

“Just focus,” Azzi breaks contact first, turning her face back at the stars, before gently grabbing hold of Paige’s hand so she can guide it in the pattern of the constellation. And Paige still doesn’t really see it, doesn’t even particularly care about seeing it, but if it gets Azzi to hold her hand, soft skin putting light pressure against her palm, she thinks she’ll try to see some random lines in the sky forever.

“It’s pretty.”

“You don’t see it do you?”

“Nope,” Paige’s grin widens when Azzi chuckles, shaking her head fondly. Something in her blooms, delighted at being the reason for that. And she’s always prided herself in being funny, she thinks of herself as a little bit of a comedian really, but she’s never wanted to make anyone laugh quite as much as she wants to make Azzi laugh.

“Well that’s enough stargazing for us then,” Azzi rolls her eyes, closing her little booklet and making a move to sit up but Paige is quicker, pulling the younger girl back down and interlocking their fingers. Her own overeagerness causes a tinge of embarrassment to race up her cheeks, and she hopes it’s dark enough that Azzi won’t see the pale pink blush taking over her face.

“It’s peaceful out here,” she says quietly, sounding shy even to her own ears and she can’t help but wonder when the hell that happened, “you wanna stay a little longer?”

“Yeah okay let’s stay longer,,” Azzi agrees and sometimes when Azzi speaks like that, her voice lyrically soft with a secret smile hidden in it, Paige wonders if maybe it would be okay to hope for, to feel something more because maybe, just maybe, Azzi feels it too.

“You know you should come to the state championship,” Paige says after a second of silence, trying to keep her voice nonchalant but she can hear the wishfulness bleeding into it anyways.

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “isn’t that in March? That’s like months and months away.”

“Yeah but- well-” Paige shrugs, cheeks burning just a little bit, “you probably wanna book in advance cause like tickets and stuff you know?”

“You don’t even know if you’ll be in the state championship. There’s still a whole season to go.”

“Oh I know. I know we’re definitely gonna be there.” Paige smirks, cockiness back in full-fledged form.

“Then I’ll be there,” Azzi says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “you better win though Bueckers.”

“Watch me,” and she’s jutting her chest out in arrogance sure, but really everything inside her is swelling with something else, a feeling she’s starting to understand a little too well, a feeling that terrifies her, a feeling she doesn’t think she’s quite ready to let herself feel yet, “it would be nice you know, to win a championship together at some point.”

“I don’t think my parents would be on board with moving to Minnesota.”

“I’m sure I could convince them,” Paige feels a little giddy at the thought, “but I meant more like college, like UConn.”

It’s a topic they’ve stumbled upon a couple of times, with each other, and with the other girls at Team USA. And as much as Paige would love for her other teammates to follow her to her dream school, she’s practical enough to know they might have other priorities. But the thing is that with the rest of the girls, it’s just something she’d like to happen but with Azzi, now that Paige has said it out loud, she’s beginning to realise how desperately she wants that, her and Azzi, on the same team, fighting the same battles and winning the same wars, together.

“Don’t think you can win a national championship without me Bueckers?” Azzi smirks, twisting her head towards Paige, eyebrows cocked in arrogance.

“Of course I can,” Paige’s face softens, the vulnerability that only ever seems to come out around her best friend seeping on to her features, “but I think it would be fun to win one with you. Someday.”

“Someday, “ Azzi whispers back, giving Paige’s hand a light squeeze, and then her eyes widen at the sky, “holy shit is that a shooting star? Oh my god Paige look up, quick, it’s beautiful.”

In the dark of the night, a rare flicker of gold shoots across the obsidian Minnesota sky. Paige has never seen one before but it seems fitting really, that she’d see one tonight.

“We have to make a wish,” she whispers and Azzi, never one to really believe, rolls her eyes but she follows Paige’s lead, closing her eyes. And the thing is Paige could wish for a lot of things really, but she finds herself thinking of only one word that sums up all she could ever want: someday.

***

August 2026

They’ve been playing against each other for years now and yet the thrill of the face-off still hasn’t quite worn off. Back in the handful of games in high school, it had been quickfire friendly trash talk, two best friends going at it like the competitors they were. College had been drastically different, each game, each play, underlined with the tension of two people who still hadn’t quite figured it out. But Paige thinks her favourite version of them as opponents is definitely this one, the one where they might be on different teams in the WNBA, but off the court, they both know they’re on the same side, together.

Their relationship isn’t quite a secret; it would have been impossible to hide if after the kiss at the 2025 national championship. But they’d kept as quiet about it as possible, skillfully dodging media questions, wanting to shelter it from the prying eyes of the public. It makes playing each other on national television, just that little bit more entertaining, trying to keep things as cordial as possible. If Paige’s hands end up just a little too close to Azzi’s waist, lingering a little longer than necessary against the patch of skin she’d marked with a hickey earlier this morning, and it makes the younger girl shiver, then that’s just a tactic to win. And if Azzi breathes seductive thoughts of what she’d like to do after the game when guarding Paige, and it makes the blonde want to turn around and kiss the smirk off of her girlfriend’s lips, well that’s just another innovative defensive strategy.

“Be a good girl for me and move,” Paige whispers, the double entendre in her voice apparent, as she tries to dribble the ball past Azzi. There’s only a minute or so left in the last meeting of the regular season between Paige’s Lynx and Azzi’s Mystics -funny how that had worked out- and the score is painfully close, with the Mystics closing in on the Lynx’s two point-lead.

“Always a good girl for you P,” Azzi smirks, her voice the quietest it could possibly be, but Paige hears her next words like they’re on a loudspeaker in the area, “it’s why I’m wearing your favourite purple panties.”

It takes a second, a second where Paige’s eyes gloss over with lust, as her mind rushes back to the last time she’d seen, the last time she’d touched the silky undergarment, for the ball to be stolen from her hands. She’s a step too slow to recover and by that time Azzi’s already scored the easy lay-up to tie up the game, a mischievous grin adorning her normally stoic game face.

On the other end of the court, Napheesa draws a foul and Paige and Azzi end up next to each for free throws. Paige is seething, unsure if the heat curling up her spine is from the game or the girl standing next to her.

“Sorry baby, all’s fair in love and war right?” Azzi teases, pinky brushing against the blonde’s, “I’ll make it up to you later if you want.”

“You’re such a fucking menace,” Paige practically growls. She does want, in fact she’d like it right now if it was possible. Two years they’ve been together, longer if you count the inbetween, and still, every time Azzi lights a match, Paige feels herself burn just as brightly as the first time she’d felt that magnetic pull.

“Learnt from the best,” Azzi hums with a grin as Napheesa hits both free throws.

The rest of the game passes in a blur of frenzied shots and hurried fouls but the Lynx pull out an eventual, much-needed win, to better their chances of clinching a higher seed in the playoffs. After missing the playoffs in 2024, the Lynx, despite having relatively low odds, had secured the no.1 pick and there had never really been a doubt that they would pick Paige. She’d helped the team get back to the playoffs last season but they hadn’t made it out of the first round. A championship doesn’t seem quite possible yet, but Paige has her fingers crossed that they’d at least make it to a semi-final this time.

“The two of you are terrible at this,” Aaliyah’s the first person to hug Paige during the handshake line, “I thought you’d jump each other’s bones in the middle of the game today.”

“We’re not that bad,” Paige rolls her eyes at her former teammate. She high-fives a few more of the Mystics team until she gets to Azzi, who’s already smiling, despite the loss. The cameras are quick to crowd them, clearly wanting a more sensational picture than the one they’re likely to get. Still, despite the unwanted attention, Paige lets herself nestle into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“You owe me twice tonight,” she whispers into the younger girl’s ear, “one for the win and one for that bullshit you pulled on the court tonight.”

Azzi’s voice is breathless when she replies, “I can give you way more than two.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a promise.”

***

“With the new rules, after this season you’ll be a free agent, have you given any thought to that?”

Waiting for the Lynx’s turn in the media room, Paige hadn’t been paying much attention to the questions being asked to the Mystics players, her focus solely on how hot her girlfriend always looked post games. But the words ‘free agent’ pique her interest. The W had changed the rookie contract rules for first round draftees to two years and that meant both Paige and Azzi would be free agents after this year. But while it hadn’t reached the media quite yet, the Lynx were likely to use their core designation on Paige. Which meant the only one of them making any decision about next season would be Azzi. It was a subject the two of them were cautiously tip-toeing around, using the shield of distance to avoid talking about what it could mean for them.

“I’m focused on the season, this team and the rest of our games. I’m not really thinking about the future,” Azzi answers diplomatically.

“You’ve obviously got very strong ties to the DC area but you also went to UCLA, if the Sparks or maybe even the Valkyries, considering your connection to Steph Curry, were interested, and there have been rumours that they are, would you consider it?” the same reporter prods.

“Again, I’m not currently thinking about any of that,” to anyone else Azzi probably sounds neutral but Paige has studied the sheet music of Azzi’s voice to the point where she knows what’s hidden behind every note, behind every little indent. The tinge of irritation is masked by a smile, but the line of questioning is clearly unappreciated.

“And what about the Lynx?” the persistently oblivious reporter continues and this time Paige sucks in a breath, “you have some ties to that team don't you? Have you given some thought to maybe going there?”

Azzi’s eye twitches ever so slightly, “the Lynx just beat my team. The only thoughts I have right now are about how to beat them next time.”

That elicits a laugh from the media and finally the rather obtuse reporters seem to understand that he’s not going to be able to pry anything newsworthy from Azzi’s mouth. But even if he hasn’t achieved his desired effect, he’s succeeded in making Paige’s mind start running in circles. She hadn’t let herself think about it yet, the potential of Azzi joining the Lynx, the potential of playing with Azzi, the potential of finally just being with Azzi. Because facing the potential for all of that, facing all the things she wants means also facing the potential that maybe Azzi doesn’t want any of that.

***

The air in Paige’s living room is thick with a suffocating tension as she and Azzi sit on opposite ends of the couch. It reminds Paige a little bit of the before, a dreaded version of them she’d foolishly thought they grown out of, until something reminiscent of their past problems had reared its ugly head, and suddenly it feels a bit like she’s playing a losing game.

“Will you please stop that,” she bites out, referring to where Azzi’s foot is incessantly tapping on the wooden floors, “it’s giving me a headache.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, flashing with irritation, “is it my tapping or the alcohol giving you a headache Paige?”

“I didn’t even drink that much,” Paige says through gritted teeth and Azzi scoffs.

It’s a lie. After both teams were done with post game pressers, she, Azzi and a couple of the other girls had ended up at a local bar as they often did when the other team didn’t have to fly out til the next day. Paige had been tense the whole evening and trying to pretend not to be, especially when Azzi could see right through her façade, had only made the whole thing worse. She wasn’t one to drink too much, always happy just being sufficiently tipsy but then she’d gotten in her head too much. And when the first shot didn’t quite hit the way she needed it to, she’d kept on going, receiving worried looks from all the girls, until Azzi had finally stepped in. The ride back from the bar had been a sobering experience, one look at Azzi’s stoic face, giving away her irritation.

“That’s why you still reek of tequila?”

“How the fuck would you know? You haven’t come near me all night.”

“Don’t you dare try and turn this on me Paige. I tried to talk to you all night til you decided you wanted to act like freshman frat boy,” Azzi spits out, hurt and anger colliding in her voice, “we barely get to spend time together during the season and the one night in forever that we do, you pull this shit?”

They haven’t had an argument like this since they’ve been officially together, the kind of argument that has them balancing on a delicate tight rope, too afraid to take a step backwards in their relationship, and too prideful to take a step forward towards each other.

“I didn’t think you cared about spending time together during the season,” Paige accuses and there’s a sensible part of her, one that’s currently being held captive by the dangers of liquor, that knows it’s a ridiculous allegation.

Azzi stares at her, lips opening and closing in disbelief, “excuse me?”

“It’s pretty simple really Azzi. If you wanna spend the whole season together, the option is right fucking there, but I- I can’t even tell if you’re interested in taking it,” Paige is pacing now, teeth gnawing at her lips like they always do when she’s nervous.

“What- what are you even talking about?” Azzi asks, clearly confused.

“Free fucking agency. They asked you about it and you said you hadn’t thought about it at all. That’s really great to hear Az, really great to know you haven’t thought about how that could literally change our whole fucking life,” and even as the words waterfall out of her mouth, Paige knows she’s being unreasonable, but the mix of stress and alcohol churning in her stomach is just enough to keep her from taking the words back.

“I didn’t- that’s not even what I said. Jesus fucking christ Paige,” Azzi rubs her face, looking defeated.

“So you have thought about it then?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it, “ Azzi throws her hands up, “but I wasn’t gonna tell the media about all of that. But you- you seriously think I haven’t thought about what this means for us? You don’t- do you really think I’m not thinking about you- about us- while trying to make this decision?”

“Well you definitely didn’t think of me- of us- when you chose UCLA,” Paige’s eyes widen at her own words, knowing immediately that of all things she could have said, those were the worst ones, “I- I didn’t mean it like that.”

In front of her, Azzi has gone deathly still, face completely devoid of emotion, until the first tear drops and all of Paige’s anger dissipates, the guilt clawing back with full force.

“I thought we were over that,” Azzi whispers, voice trembling, as she looks down at her hands, “but maybe we’ll never be over that.”

“We are,” Paige sinks to her knees in front of the younger girl, tugging Azzi’s hands into her own, “we are over it. I just- it just slipped out.”

Azzi’s quiet for a moment before she pulls her hands out of the blonde’s grip, sidestepping her as she stands up and Paige feels empty and cold and just a little bit broken.

“Are you leaving?” she whispers, peering up at Azzi through tear soaked eyelashes.

“I think I should, before anything else just slips out,” Paige flinches and Azzi’s expression softens, “I know- I know you didn’t mean it like that but I just- I need some space.”

Panic filters into Paige’s lungs, wrapping its dirty hands and squeezing so tight that she can barely breathe. She’s not sure when she’ll see Azzi again, now that there’s no more Lynx-Mystics games left in the regular season and it’s unlikely with their expected seedings that they’d meet at some point in the playoffs. It’s not like distance is new to them, but in the last two years, they’ve only ever said goodbye with an i love you attached to the end.

“Are you-,” Paige gasps for air, “are you leaving me?”

And it must be written all over Paige's face, just how petrified she is of this moment, because that's all it takes for Azzi to rush back into Paige’s space, hands cupping her cheeks, “oh baby of course not. I just- you’re still drunk and I’m upset and I don’t want us to say anything we don’t mean. And I- need time to think about free agency and I think you- you need time to think about why that slipped out.”

Paige sighs, melting into Azzi’s touch as the knots in her stomach begin to untangle themselves, “you’re so logical.”

“Someone has to be,” a half-smile flitters across the younger girl’s face as she wipes at Paige’s tears, “we’ll figure this out okay? Just- just give me a little bit of time.”

Give me time. It’s a familiar line, so similar to what Azzi had asked for when she was making a decision about college and Paige would be lying if she said there isn’t a part of her that’s terrified fate is going to make them repeat the same mistakes. But part of growing up, Paige surmises, is letting time test you with the same trials and tribulations, and the next time, coming out of the other end on the right side.

And so she squeezes Azzi’s hand, matching the younger girl's half smile, with a soothing one of her own, “okay.”

***

November 2027

Paige doesn't know when she ended up in a love triangle with Azzi and the state of California but she wishes she was competing against an actual person. At least then she could throw a punch at the other guy. The W season is barely over and it seems like every front office has thrown themselves headfirst into convincing free agents to join their team. There’s a couple of teams interested in Azzi, but no one seems to be trying harder than the Los Angeles Sparks. Paige thinks whoever gave that city a name meaning “the angels” could not have been more wrong because really it’s a city full of devils constantly trying to steal her girl and no she’s not being dramatic.

They’re supposed to be leaving for thanksgiving dinner when Azzi’s phone rings and Paige can’t help but roll her eyes when Cameron Brink’s name flashes on the CallerID. The Sparks seemed to have put her as head of their recruiting Azzi campaign and Cam had been diligently doing her part.

“Azzi, Cam’s calling again,” Paige yells out to her girlfriend who’s still not quite finished getting ready.

“Can you pick it up?”

“Do I have to?”

“Paige,” Azzi whines and Paige sighs, hitting the green answering button.

“The amount of times you’ve called my girlfriend this week, Brink, should I be concerned?”

“Jealous I’m replacing you as her favourite blonde?” Cam’s voice always sounds like she’s smiling and Paige can’t help her own smile. Goddamn Cameron Brink for always being the sweetest soul on this planet.

“As if,” Paige scoffs, “it’s a holiday Cam, give the recruiting a rest.”

“Hey, I’m just calling to wish her a happy thanksgiving,” Cam defends.

“Mmmhmm where’s my thanksgiving wish?”

“Oh please, the two of you are basically a unit. Wishing her is wishing you,” Cam is quiet for a second before speaking again, “the Sparks would be a good fit for her Paige.”

Paige sucks in a sharp breath, “I’m not the one you’re gonna have to convince.”

“I know but you know your opinion means a lot to her. I know you want her in Minnesota and she'd be good there too and I- I know it isn’t my place to say any of this but just- just don’t discourage her from doing what’s best for her,” there’s not a hint of malice in Cam’s words, there never is, but they pierce at Paige’s skin anyways.

“Okay I’m ready, hand me the phone,” she’s saved from having to answer by Azzi waltzing into the living room and prying the phone from her hands.

Paige watches silently as Azzi talks animatedly with Cam, noticing the way her girlfriend’s smile widens while talking about certain spots in L.A. They’d subconsciously decided not to breach the subject of free agency after that night. Paige hadn’t interfered in any of the Lynx’s conversations with Azzi, deciding that this time, she’d stay out of it. It hadn’t been easy, every little bit of her itching to pitch why the Lynx were the perfect fit, why Paige was the perfect fit, but she was determined to give Azzi the space -the time- she’d wanted. This time she’d leave the choice solely up to Azzi and whatever she decided, Paige would find her happiness in that.

“Paige you ready to go,” Azzi waves a hand in front of Paige’s face, eyebrows raised in question when the older girl doesn’t make a move to get off the sofa, “hey, you good?”

“Cam says the Sparks would be a good fit,” Azzi stiffens at Paige’s words.

“Paige-”

“She’s right,” Paige concedes, fingers fidgeting as she averts Azzi’s gaze.

The younger girl blinks at her, clearly not having expected that, “she is?”

“Yeah. They need a shooting guard and you,” Paige smiles, reaching out to pull Azzi onto the couch with her, “you’re the best there is.”

“I wouldn’t go that far-”

“You are to me and it’s why I want you on the Lynx,” they both let out a breath with that. It’s not a secret of course but Paige hasn’t said it out loud before.

“Paige-”

“But it’s okay if you don't wanna be on the Lynx, if you wanna be on the Sparks or stay here with the Mystics or on any other team, if you think it’s the right move for you and for your career then that’s fine. It’s okay and you don’t- you don’t need my permission or anything of course but I just- whatever you decide, I’ll support it okay? What I said that night about UCLA- it wasn't- it wasn’t about you. I thought about it like you asked me to and it’s me. I was scared that I would fuck it up again and I’d lose you again-”

“You won’t,” Azzi grabs Paige’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I won’t let you.”

“I know. I know now that whatever happens, we’ll be okay. And so you can choose whatever team you want and it won’t- it won’t affect us, I promise. It won’t be like last time I swear. When you make your decision- I just- I don’t want you to make it for me or for us, cause you and me? Baby we’ll be just fine no matter what. Wherever you go and wherever I am, we’ll make it work, just as we have for the last two years,” Paige smirks, “besides I kinda enjoy kicking your ass.”

Azzi lets out a snort as she climbs onto Paige’s lap, thighs straddling her hips, “you really had to ruin it with that last part huh?”

“Was getting a little too sappy for me,” Paige mumbles and when she looks up, the emotions floating in Azzi’s eyes make Paige’s heart stutter. Because no one else gets this Azzi. This Azzi, who wears her heart on her sleeve, who lets her walls down, only for Paige’s eyes to see, only for Paige’s mind to memorise, only for Paige’s heart to keep.

“You mean it?” Azzi whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of Paige’s face, touching lingering, “you’d be okay with anything?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige cups Azzi’s cheeks, brushing her lips against the younger girl’s, “whatever you choose, we’ll be fine. No matter what, I believe in us.”

***

January 2028

Paige groans when her phone rings at 2 a.m., fumbling around in the dark trying to answer it.

“I swear you better be dying if you’re calling me this late,” she grumbles into the phone, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Not quite,” Azzi says, and Paige’s eyebrows furrow at the amount of background noise she can hear behind her girlfriend.

“Dude where the hell are you at 3 in the morning?” she asks, now a little more awake as she sits up.

“I uh- I had a bit of a revelation,” and Paige can practically picture Azzi, wherever she might be, fidgeting with her fingers and biting her lips.

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“I know. I know. Shit, I was supposed to do this in person. I had a whole plan but apparently being with you has made me impatient,” Azzi rambles.

“You’re still not making any sense,” but Paige’s heart is starting to beat erratically fast in anticipation.

“I had this realisation while I was in the gym today, it was really quiet and peaceful and I was fine you know- all day I was fine- just doing daily routines and then I just- I missed you. I miss you all the time do you know that?”

Paige does know, knows it far too well. Sometimes she thinks missing Azzi comes as naturally as breathing, an innate part of her day to day, a constant ache that she’s felt since she was 15.

“I miss you too,” she whispers.

“And I’ve learned to survive with that feeling, with missing you constantly. I mean it’s been more than 10 years at this point, how could I not? But what I realised today is that just because I can- just because I can live missing you- doesn’t mean I want to.”

“What are you saying Azzi?”

“DC is my childhood. My family is close to there, it’s part of where I grew up. It’ll always be my first home. And LA is where I found myself, my identity, and for a while it felt like home too.”

“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, hands gripping the phone as tight as possible, wrapping that one syllable in emblems of give me forever.

“But my forever home isn’t in DC or LA and it’s not really in any other place either because- Jesus this might be the clichést thing I’ve ever said but-,” Azzi lets out a chuckle, “my home is wherever you are Paige. Wherever we’re together, that’s home.”

It feels a little bit like the end of a drought, the wetness on Paige’s cheeks like the rain that comes after. In the pitch black of her room, phone clutched closely to her ear with Azzi’s words floating through it like a swan song, Paige swears she’s never felt the world glow quite like this before.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Beating your ass has been fun as hell but I think we’d make a pretty good team Bueckers.”

And it’s a good thing Paige’s walls are soundproof because the delighted whoop she lets out practically vibrates around the room, all previous wisps of tiredness completely gone from her body. Azzi lets out a tearful laugh and Paige wishes they were together right now so she could tattoo this happiness onto both of their skins.

“The greatest team ever,” Paige affirms, “When are you com-”

“Attention passengers Delta Airlines Flight 1248 to Minneapolis will be boarding soon, please have your passport and ticket ready to check at the gate.”

“About that,” Azzi says shyly as Paige’s mouth drops open at the announcement, “I uh- I had a moment of spontaneity.”

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with my overthinking girlfriend?” Paige demands and Azzi giggles on the other end of line.

“I know it’s last minute, like really last minute and it was meant to be a surprise actually but I just- I really wanna see you. Is that okay?”

“Is that okay? Fuck Azzi, it’s all I want. Baby,” Paige breathes out softly, “come home.”

***

Time isn’t going nearly fast enough Paige thinks as she checks the arrivals board for the nth time. She’d tried for about four seconds to fall back asleep after hanging up the phone but her entire body had been buzzing with excitement. And so she’d gotten to the airport far earlier than necessary, and had maybe one too many cups of coffee if the jittery shake in her left hand is anything to go by.

She swears she feels her before she sees her. The air is electric as if the whole city, the whole state is waiting for Azzi too, for them to get their elusive forever. This moment feels like years in the making, and Paige is ready, ready to grasp it and make it hers. And then there’s Azzi, a clearly chosen-at-last minute wrinkled t-shirt, eyes drooping from the tiredness from not having slept all night, baby hairs in a frenzy across her forehead. To Paige, she’s still the prettiest girl in the entire universe.

Azzi’s eyes scan through the airport until they land on Paige, a dazzling smile illuminating her exhausted features. It’s the exact same smile that Paige had first elicited from her on the flight back from Argentina when she’d told Azzi she had a feeling they'd make great friends. It’s her Paige smile. The world is still for a second, everything melting away except them and the whispers of the journey it had taken them to get to this point. Every delicately placed step towards each other feels like an ode to every year they’d spent apart. And then Paige is running, not caring about everyone else around her. She jumps into Azzi’s arm, all 6 feet of her, tangling her legs around the younger girl's waist while her arms fasten around the neck. It forces Azzi to let go of her small carry-on, not caring that it falls to the floor with a thud, as her hands wrap around Paige’s back, steadying her girlfriend’s weight on top of her.

“You’re here,” Paige whispers, still a little in disbelief, “you’re really here.”

“I’ve been in Minny plenty of times before,” Azzi quips, adjusting her balance to properly hold the girl clinging to her like a koala.

“Shut up you know what I mean. You’re here forever this time.”

“Well I don’t know about forever- OW,” Azzi shrieks, as Paige pinches her arm, “do you want me to drop you woman?”

“You’re never allowed to leave.”

“That sounds vaguely threatening.”

“Good because it definitely is a threat,” Paige says before pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, “welcome home baby.”

***

October 2028

There are moments in life you remember forever. Sometimes you know they’re going to happen, sometimes they take you off guard and sometimes, it’s a combination of both. The Minnesota Lynx’s journey to the WNBA finals this season had always felt inevitable but the journey there, for a team that had unexpectedly fallen to the 4-seed despite pre-season clamour of them being number one, had been filled with bitter losses and moments of pure uncertainty. In a way, it perfectly mirrors Paige and Azzi’s relationship.

There’s 11 seconds separating the Lynx from their 5th championship trophy as they lead the Sky by two points. The crowd is up on their feet, ready for their cheering to turn into roars the minute the final buzzer rings. Paige has the ball in her hands on the inbound, Coach Reeves yelling at her from the bench what to do, as she makes eye contact with Azzi. There are no words, not even a gesture that the other team might be able to interpret, but they know exactly what play they’re about to run.

Truth be told it hadn’t been the seamless transition the two of them had expected when Azzi joined the Lynx. They’d been naive to think years of not playing together wouldn’t have affected the backcourt chemistry they’d had almost instantly once upon a time. The first few games, there had been an embarrassing disconnect between the two of them that had resulted in a nasty berating from Coach Reeves and a subsequent argument between the two of them that had lasted into the next morning. It had taken several more practices, and a couple more games of flailing around, for them to finally become the duo Paige had always known they would.

The game buzzer beeps and Paige throws the ball to Azzi who immediately returns it back to her, and then she’s running off screen after screen to get herself open on the wing, her sweet spot. Paige dribble penetrates into the paint, dragging an extra defender with her as they try to prevent her from getting a layup, the other defender blocks her from stepping back into a pull-up. Azzi’s defender has a momentary lapse in judgement, falling for the age-old trick of thinking she should help on defence, and that’s all it takes. A second for Paige to see Azzi open on the corner and pass it to her. A second for Azzi to shoot it.

The three-pointer falls through the next with a perfect swish. Dagger shot.

A small smile flits across Azzi’s face, the only emotion she’s shown all game and Paige can’t help the much larger grin that starts to flash on her own face. She can almost taste victory on the tip of her tongue, the two seconds left in the game are the only thing separating her from finally getting her version of the things we live for. Behind her she can hear Coach Reeves yelling at them to not foul, the 5-point lead enough of a cushion for them to withstand a last minute shot. But the Sky barely make it over midcourt and when Marina Mabrey heaves up a last second prayer, Paige doesn’t bother to see if it goes in as the buzzer sounds throughout Target Arena. The Minnesota crowd explodes in noise and colour as confetti falls from the sky.

Despite the chaos of everything, Paige has never seen Azzi clearer than in this moment. Since she’d met the girl, in all of Paige’s prayers about winning a championship, one thing had always been constant, that when they’d come true, they’d come true with Azzi by her side. And she had been. The high school state champion, the college national championship, Azzi had been there for both but on the bleachers, as a spectator and as Paige’s biggest fan. But this, winning a championship with Azzi as her teammate, as her ally, as her partner, means something more. This win is theirs.

“Do you remember when we saw that shooting star?” Azzi says softly, as they find their way into each other’s arms, not caring that there’s a thousand cameras capturing their every move. Paige pulls Azzi closer to her, every inch of her body pressing into the other girls until she’s not sure where she begins and where Azzi ends.

“That was years ago,” Paige remarks but she can see it clearly, two young girls underneath the stars, unaware of what their future would be but sure that the other would be in it. Those girls would probably laugh at how long it had taken Paige and Azzi to figure out what had seemed so simple back then.

“Yeah, yeah it was. Do you remember what you wished for?” Azzi asks, smiling when Paige nods, “do you wanna know what I wished for?”

“What did you wish for Az?”

“Before we saw the star you- you said it’d be nice to win a championship together someday. And so I-,” Azzi looks down shyly, “so I wished for someday. I wished for today.”

Paige stares at Azzi, drinking in the sincerity on the shooting guard’s face, silently letting herself absorb the meaning of Azzi’s words. And then she lets out a laugh because of course of course.

“I didn’t realise I’d said anything funny for you to be laughing at me,” Azzi scrunches her nose, looking slightly offended.

“God baby no,” Paige cups Azzi’s face, and she thinks this smile on her face will last forever as long as this is her reality, “I’m not laughing at you. I just- do you know what I wished for?”

Azzi shakes her head.

“This. The same exact thing you did. For someday.”

It’s not quite the shade of blue Paige had imagined them in, the Lynx blue its own shade, something inbetween UConn’s navy one and UCLA’s sky one. But it’s perfect nonetheless. And when Azzi crashes her lips against Paige’s, someday feels a lot like forever and always.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

284 notes · View notes

a34trgv2 · 5 months ago

Text

Why It Worked: Inside Out

Introduction: Inside Out is an animated coming-of-age film produced by Pixar Animation Studios and distributed by Walt Disney Pictures. Directed and co-written by Pete Docter, with the screenplay being co written by Meg LaFauve and Josh Cooley, the film stars Amy Poehler, Phyliss Smith, Lewis Black, Mindy Kaling, Bill Hader, Kaitlyn Dias, Diane Lane, Kyle MacLachlan and Richard Kind as Joy, Sadness, Anger, Disgust, Fear, Riley, her parents Bill and Jill, and Bing Bong respectively. Released on June 19, 2015, the film was a major box office success grossing $858.8 million on a budget of $175 million. It also received critical acclaim from critics and audiences alike. According to Rotten Tomatoes, out of the 384 reviews aggregated, 98% gave a positive review with an average rating of 8.9/10. It also received numerous awards, including an Oscar for Best Animated Feature, several Outstanding Achievement Awards at the Annies, a Golden Globe for Best Animated Feature, and a Critic's Choice Movie Award for Best Animated Feature. It is often seen as a culturally significant film for mental health and the importance of expressing one's emotions. I saw this film for my birthday back in 2015 and I loved it right out of the gate. After multiple rewatches over the years, I stand by my personal opinion that this is a masterpiece of animation and visual storytelling. I'm overjoyed to talk about this film now that it finally has a sequel out.

The Plot: This film has 2 stories that are interconnected to one another, taking place in the mind of an 11 year old girl. On the outside, it's a bout a kid moving to a new city and being overwhelmed by the sudden changes happening all at once. On the inside, it's about Joy and Sadness trekking through Riley's mind, while along the way understanding each other's importance. Together, they create a very unique and engaging plot about growing up and learning to express yourself. The film brilliantly cuts between Riley, Joy and Sadness' journey, and what's happening at HQ to organically show what Riley's feeling and how her actions have psychological consequences. In addition to having powerful gut punching drama, it's also a very funny film with plenty of slapstick, goofy gags, and impressive word play that always gets me to belly laugh. Michael Giacchino also provides an enchanting, dreamlike score with great use of the piano and brass sections. The true highlight of the story is, of course, Pixar's masterfully crafted and innovative animation. The film makes Riley's mind so vibrant and expansive with Dream Productions and Imagination Land being major highlights. The outside world also looks very well done with the people looking very appealing, San Francisco looking grimy yet lived in, and Riley's old home in Minnesota looking very welcoming and colorful. Speaking of color, the use of colors in this film is nothing short of excellent from the radiant colors of Riley's memories, to Riley's clothes reflecting her current state of mind throughout the film. I also love how they use black and gray to represent faded memories and lack of emotion. If there's one word to describe Inside Out's story and animation, it's colorful.

Cast and Characters: This is an outstanding cast they brought on board for this film. Shout outs to the film's casting directors Natalie Lyon and Kevin Reher for picking out some excellent actors. Amy Poehler was phenomenal as Joy, perfectly capturing her bubbly and eccentric personality while also naturally showing her vulnerability and frustrations. Phyliss Smith sound perfectly dower and soft spoken as Sadness, yet at the same time making her sound so innocent and relatable. Lewis Black was the best match for Anger, making him sound crusty, cynical, and having a short fuse. Mindy Kaling brought in the right amount of sass and pettiness as Disgust and her comradery with the other emotions was brilliant. Bill Hader did a great job making Fear funny and relatable as a character. Kaitlyn Dias also deserve major props for her vocal performance as Riley, making her sound like a soft spoken but fun kid who goes through a great character arc in the film. Lastly, Richard Kind was the absolute surprise standout of the cast as Bing Bong as not only did he do a great job making him funny, but also made him relatable, selfless, a bit of an airhead, but also really resourceful. The cast did such a great job bringing these characters to life, with all of them being iconic and memorable in their own way.

Where It Falters: Outside of maybe adding another scene or 2 with Riley's life in Minnesota, I wouldn't change a thing with this film. It's one of those films where the only nitpick I have is I wanted more. Fortunately, that's remedied with the existence of the 2024 sequel. Coming out a couple years sooner wouldn't have been so bad either, but like I always say, quality>quantity.

Conclusion: There are a select few movies I consider to be a masterpiece. Inside Out is most certainly one of those movies. With outstanding writing, iconic characters, wonderful voice acting, masterfully crafted animation, and an enchanting score, it has more than earned its cultural significance. I cannot recommend this film enough, especially for those who struggle with expressing themselves such as yours truly. I promise this film will speak to you as it has for me after all these years. Thanks so much for reading and I'll see you soon ;)

86 notes · View notes

thewulf · 2 years ago

Text

Who are You? || Jake Seresin

Summary: After breaking up with you lovely cheating fiancée you find a place to stay at your Aunt Penny's house in San Diego. You might just get more than you bargained for when you meet the Jake Seresin.

A/N: First attempt at Top Gun, loved writing for him!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 4,700+

Part 2

Life came at you fast. One moment you were planning your wedding with the supposed ‘love of your life’ Aaron, the next you were on the floor of your shared apartment wondering why he had to go and ruin everything. You and Aaron had met back in college when you were both studying engineering. He swept you off your feet, quite literally. A mishap in a chemistry lab had him picking you up so you wouldn’t get burned. From then on, the two of you had been inseparable.

Aaron was everything you wanted in a man. He was sweet, kind, funny and just an overall good person to be around. At least, that’s what you thought. The two of you moved to Michigan after graduating, both of you securing well-paying engineering jobs. You thought you were happy, you thought you’d start a life in Michigan but apparently Aaron had other plans.

You stated noticing odd behaviors from your fiancée five years into the relationship. His once calm and kind demeanor changed ever so slightly. He snapped at you often, something your Aaron wouldn’t have dreamed of doing even just a year prior. He wasn’t fun to be around anymore, you tried to make jokes that would have made him laugh and crack one back with you, but he just rolled his eyes at you instead.

You weren’t sure when it all started culminating but you were damn near a breaking point. Five years into a relationship and his personality changed so drastically over the last six months. You tried taking advice from both your mom and aunts, but nothing worked.

All the tension came to a head when you were out one night with a friend, Mandy, heading to the local bars. Aaron was supposed to be gone for the week on a work trip. He was indeed not on a work trip. Mandy spotted him and excitedly tried to drag you over to him. Your eyes widened and you yanked your arm away from her. She didn’t know Aaron was supposed to be gone. You quickly ducked your head and walked to a side of the bar you were sure he couldn’t see you from. Mandy was clearly confused but followed you anyway.

“He’s not supposed to be here Mandy.” Y/N said while quietly sipping on the whisky sour you had ordered earlier.

“Where’s he supposed to be then?” She asked with confusion laced on her brow.

Y/N took a slow and drawn-out breath while closing her eyes knowing something wasn’t right. Mandy was looking at you expectantly when you opened your eyes again, “Minnesota, for work.”

She bit her lip trying to come up with any excuse for him in the book. You gave her a sad smile while shifting around a few people trying to get a better line of sight on the liar.

Your heart sunk when a beautiful girl seemed to appear out of thin air wrapping her dainty arms around your fiancée. You bit the inside of your cheek hard, trying to will the tears that were threatening to spill to stay put. You continued to watch half hoping it was just a friend, God willing it’d just be a friend. Your heart shattered when he placed a soft kiss on her lips smiling like the fucking idiot he was. Your teeth clenched down harder drawing a metallic taste from your mouth.

“Oh, Y/N, let’s go.” Mandy softly grabbed at your arm attempting to pull you away from the bar. Your legs felt like lead as she tried to drag you away. You couldn’t hear anything nor process what you saw. You heard your heart beating slow and not so steady. Closing your eyes again you swallowed the blood that pooled in your mouth.

“I should go up to him.” You mumbled ignoring Mandy’s protests.

This time Mandy squeezed your arm trying to get you to snap out of whatever daze you were in, “That’d be an awful idea Y/N. Take some pictures and let’s go home.”

You nodded taking another sip from your sour, nearly hissing when it hit the open wound from your cheek bite. The fucking loser was continuing to hurt you without even realizing it. Mandy snapped a few more pictures making sure to get everything.

That’s how you landed on the floor of your shared apartment silently crying. The gravity of the situation finally hit you, your life you wanted to start was over. Aaron ruined it before it could really begin.

You sent the pictures to your mom and aunts who, of course, were nothing but supportive. They helped to get you out of the situation. Your mom flew in to help you pack your things and your Aunt Penny offered to let you come out to San Diego and live with her for a while. You worked it out with your boss, he agreed to let you work from home rather than lose you completely. You were free to go to San Diego for the next six months.

The actual breakup was heartbreaking yet again. Aaron almost looked relieved when you ended it only confirming your worst nightmare, being used in a relationship. It was a blessing in disguise you kept telling yourself as you made the 35-hour drive to your Aunt Penny’s. It certainly was the biggest blessing in disguise for Y/N.

You pulled up to Penny’s blue home three days after starting your cross-country road trip. You smiled taking in the views around you, smelling the salty ocean air that was unfamiliar to you. The air was warm and refreshing and the ocean front views went on for miles. Penny and Amelia ran outside to greet you, more than excited to have you come stay with them.

“Y/N!” Amelia yelled running up to you throwing herself into your outstretched arms.

“Meals!” You enthusiastically replied, “you’ve grown.” You whispered into her hair as you held her closely.

“You would have known that if you visited.” She stuck her tongue out at you after getting a better look at you.

You ruffled her hair sighing, realizing just how much you missed out because of Aaron. “I know, that’s on me. Don’t let stupid boys make decisions for you.” She nodded her head smiling while backing away, giving room for Penny to sneak in.

“It’s okay,” Penny cooed pulling you into a hug, “we’ve got plenty of time to catch up.”

You nodded your head feeling very good about the decision to stow away at the Benjamin household for a while. “How’ve you been Aunt Pen?” You asked while grabbing a suitcase out of the back. Amelia came around and started unloading the contents with you.

“Been wonderful.” She grinned ear to ear.

“Moms got a boyfriend.” Amelia giggled while wiggling her eyebrows, “A pilot boyfriend.”

“Really?” You asked your aunt, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

She nodded, “I do. He’ll be around tonight.”

“What’s tonight? Anything happening?” Y/N asked nobody in particular.

Amelia ran inside with your items leaving you alone with Penny.

“Nothing major. I’ve got to close the Hard Deck tonight. He usually stops by to say hello. Along with a few other aviators.”

You smirked at your blushing aunt, “A boyfriend huh? Is he cute? What’s his name? Can I come tonight?”

She laughed at your rapid-fire questions, “Of course he’s cute! Very handsome. His name is Pete Mitchell.” Penny smiled thinking about him. “And yes of course you can come on by, it’s always a good time on a Friday night.”

“Oh, so you’re in love love.” Y/N smirked grabbing the last of the items from your car.

Penny shrugged, “A bit.”

“How do I look Amelia?” You asked your cousin as you walked down the stairs.

She grinned setting down the book she was reading, “Beautiful, as always.”

“You’re way too nice to me Meals.” You smiled sitting down next to her on the couch.

She shrugged, looking eerily like her mother, “It’s the truth.”

“We’ll thank you, you’re my favorite cousin.”

“I’m your only cousin!” She laughed punching you in the shoulder lightly.

“Precisely.” You winked getting up from the couch. “So, what am I walking into?” You eyed the fridge containing beer, you knew one would calm your nerves.

She peeked back over her book, “Lots of flyboys. All cute too. Some cool girls come around too.”

You nodded cracking open the beer, getting rather nervous hearing that, “Pretty cute hmm?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically, “I think so. They’re all very kind. Just twice my age. So, it’s more of a looking situation for me.”

“Not twice mine.”

Amelia giggled shaking her head, “Mom always says no flyboys. I assume she’ll say the same for you. Bit of a hypocrite she is.”

This time it was your turn to laugh, “Sounds like she knows something.”

Amelia nodded looking down at the time, “You better go if you want to beat Mav there.”

“Mav?”

“Maverick, it’s Pete’s callsign. They all have one.”

You nodded finishing the rest of the beer, “I have no idea what I’m getting myself into.”

“You’ll have fun! Go! Don’t think of that stupid boy either. Enjoy the night.” She shot up from her spot on the couch and began pushing you towards the front door.

You put your hands up, “Alright, alright! Have a good night, Meals.”

“You to! But not too much.”

You hesitantly walked towards the Hard Deck really regretting your decision to go out tonight. You just weren’t feeling up to it now. All you really wanted to do was grab a pint of ice cream and hang out with Amelia.

Sighing you pushed open the door to the bar taking in your surroundings quickly. Everybody appeared to be normal, no flyboys in sight. Smiling you walked over to the bar spotting Penny’s blonde hair.

“There you are, was beginning to worry you wouldn’t show.” She grinned grabbing you a beer and setting it down in front of you.

“Thanks Pen. Your daughter distracted me when I was leaving.”

She shook her head, “Pete and the crew should be here any moment.”

You nodded taking a big sip of the beer, hoping to feel lightly buzzed before meeting a bunch of new people.

True to Penny’s word a few people in uniform came waltzing through. All of them seemed to ooze confidence which sent you scrunching down in your chair trying to avoid any and all eye contact. It’s not that you didn’t like meeting new people, it’s just that they were all so intimidating. You snapped your head back to Penny with wide eyes.

“What’s the matter?” She laughed pouring what you assumed to be Pete’s beer.

“They’re terrifying.” You whispered leaning in close.

She let out an alarmingly loud laugh that you were sure grabbed the attention of the crew, “Hardly love. They may look it but they’re a bunch of hooligans.”

“I can attest to that.” A male voice spoke from behind sending you nearly jumping out of your seat.

“Jesus.” You took a breath and turned around to look at the very handsome man.

“Pete! This is Y/N. She finally made it in from Michigan.” Penny handed him his beer as he sat down next to you.

“Hello.” You smiled at him taking another good look at him while sipping on your own beer.

“Nice to meet you Y/N. Penny’s told me all about you.”

You turned to your aunt with a raised brow, “She’s always had a big mouth.”

“Hey!” Penny laughed hitting you with the bar rag, “Only good things I promise Y/N.”

“I believe you Aunt Pen.” You smiled brightly at your aunt.

“Alright, let me go serve the kids and I’ll be back.” She winked at the both of you before turning around to a ‘kid’ who was sporting a rather pornstache looking mustache. You noticed him pointing over to you and Penny looking back at you. Rather uncomfortably you turned your entire body to Pete and tried to distract yourself.

“So, Pete, are you good to my Aunt Pen?”

He smiled watching her pour beers and hand them to the kid, “Of course. I lost her once and I’m certainly not planning on doing that again.”

“Good.” You nodded taking another swig from your glass.

“And you? What’s your story kiddo?”

You sighed not really wanting to get into the nitty gritty details with Penny’s boyfriend, “My fiancée cheated on me. I needed to get away and Penny offered her place for a while.”

He nodded slowly taking you in this time, “Sorry kid. People suck sometimes.”

You bobbed your head unsure what to say to the man, “Indeed they do.” You said while sighing, finishing off the beer.

“Not all of them suck,” he smirked finishing his off at the same time, “Looks like somebody else has some eyes for you.” He set his glass down and stood up, motioning for that somebody to come over.

“Don’t leave me.” You pleaded seeing him start to walk away.

He laughed, “From what Penny tells me, you’ll be able to handle him just fine.” He winked and disappeared behind a few people. You sighed yet again scrunching your nose up, not too thrilled with the situation you had landed yourself in.

“Need another?” A new voice spoke from behind. Y/N turned around slowly shyly smiling at the aviator in behind her.

“Uhh, sure.” You bit your lip turning back towards the bar cursing your inability to even hold a conversation with the handsome stranger.

“You mind?” He pointed to the chair.

You shook your head no racking your brain for anything to say to the man sitting beside you. He was beautiful Y/N thought. A far departure from her once fiancée Aaron, the stranger sported blonde hair and green eyes, stunning green eyes. Y/N took a breath and smiled again at him.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for an even more beautiful woman.” He grinned calling Penny over to refill both drinks.

You couldn’t stop the light blush that crept across your face, earning a chuckle from the handsome stranger sitting next to you.

“Don’t even think about it Hangman.” Penny spoke eyeing her niece and the serial player sitting close together, “Not my niece.” She glared at him taking both glasses.

He chuckled sticking his hand out to you, “Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman.”

You took his hand gingerly in yours shaking it briefly, “Nice to meet you.” You eyed him curiously waiting for an explanation that was never going to come.

“Hangman?” You questioned.

“Long story.” He nodded scooting ever so slightly closer to you.

“Like the kids game?”

This time he laughed, loudly, drawing the attention of his fellow aviators. “Exactly like the kids game.”

You nodded, “That’s interesting.”

“Just like me sweetheart.”

You could feel another blush creep up, you mentally cursed your face for giving you away so easily. Y/N was flustered. Aaron wasn’t nearly as smooth as this beautiful man was before you. You didn’t know how to deal with this level of boldness, not quite used to the attention he was giving you.

Penny saved your racing thoughts setting the beers down rather hard eyeing Jake in the process. “I’ve got my eye on you Seresin.” She smiled walking away back over to Maverick on the other side of the bar.

“What’s that about?” You asked sincerely hoping for an honest answer from the man sitting even more closely now, not that you minded.

“Nothing sweetheart.” he finally looked back up into your eyes stopping whatever he was going to say.

This time it was his turn to sigh, “I might have a small reputation.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you took a long drawn-out sip of your beer waiting for him to go on.

He ran a hand through his hair trying to figure out what to say to the beautiful woman sitting next to him. He wasn’t sure what had come over him, but her eyes stopped his usual spiel. It was like she was bearing her entire soul to him in just the way she was looking at him. He sucked in a breath before continuing.

“A playboy reputation?” He spoke timidly, grinning at her but he knew she could see right through it.

“Ahh, there it is.” Y/N clicked her tongue almost afraid to look back him. You knew you would get sucked back into his eyes, all green and perfect. It’s always the eyes for Y/N.

He gulped knowing his next words would dictate the way the rest of his night would go, “Come over and meet my friends. They’re a great group of people.”

You looked at him expectantly considering the options. He quickly pivoted away from that statement. Bud what else did you have to lose? You knew his end game now and you certainly weren’t going to let him take you home tonight.

“Sure.” You nodded standing from your seat. He grabbed your beer and led you over to the small group of people standing around the pool table. Jake cleared his through garnering the attention of the crew.

“This is Y/N, our dear Penny’s niece.”

“We know.” Pornstache guy smiled walking over to you, “Penny told me.” He winked at Jake before continuing looking down at you, “Bradley Bradshaw ma’am, these assholes call me Rooster.”

You smiled seeing the rest of the group groan telling him to shut up, “Nice to meet you, Bradley.” You opted for using his real name, not quite comfortable enough to use the nicknames just yet.

“These two are both trouble.” The lone female stepped up and pulled you away, “Natasha, or Phoenix.” She smiled snatching your beer away from Jake before handing it back to you. “Those two playing pool are Payback and Bob.”

You waved quickly turning your attention back to Natasha, “It’s a pleasure to meet you all, although slightly overwhelming.”

She laughed patting your back, “You just missed the big group. We just wrapped up a mission a few days ago. Everybody is getting reassigned. I luckily get to stay for a while longer with these smooth brains.”

“Hey now,” Jake walked back over eyeing you subtly, “You love us Phoenix.”

She scoffed, “Love is a word you can use.” She spoke while rolling her eyes.

“So, Y/N,” Jake spoke in his oddly attractive southern draw, you turned you attention back to the man, “where are you from? What’s your story?”

You noticed the rest of the crew go back to what they were doing leaving you with Jake, Phoenix shaking her head used to Jake’s antics.

You tapped your glass thinking of what you wanted to tell him, “From Ohio, lived in Michigan, broke up with a guy and now I’m here.” You nodded your head knowing that’s all you wanted to say.

He chuckled this time taking his turn to respond. Noting that Y/N was closed off. “You want to go for a walk darling?”

You eyed him curiously, “Are you going to murder me?”

You earned a snort from him this time, “Now why would I do that to the beautiful woman I’m trying to take out on a date?”

You shrugged, “Just something a murderer would suggest.” You smiled up at him charmingly, “Wait, did you say date?”

“I did beautiful.” Smirking he took a long drink from his glass. You gulped eyeing him, how could one be so attractive taking a drink of beer?

You hummed keeping your eyes on him as he lowered his glass, “Maybe. You’ll have to convince me though.” You shrugged as nonchalantly as you could muster, trying to form some sort of confidence.

“Well let me take you on a walk then darling.” He grinned setting his empty glass down on a table.

“Alright,” you set your glass down and turned towards Natasha, “if I don’t come back though, he did it.” You pointed towards Jake.

She laughed, “Jake is many things, I don’t think he’s slick enough to get away with murder though.”

Jake rolled his eyes and softly touched your wrist, “May I?”

You snapped your body back around feeling his warm touch on your arm, “Okay.” You spoke while your brain short circuited from the contact. He pulled your arm gently into his side bringing you closely to him. You were sure your heart was about to beat right out of your chest.

The two of you walked slowly down the beach in a comfortable silence listening to the waves crash onto shore.

“From Ohio? And moved to Michigan?” He asked softly not wanting to startle you.

You hummed agreeing with his statement, “Got my degree and found a job in Michigan. It’s a beautiful state, just too cold in the winter.”

He chuckled, “It doesn’t get too cold in Texas.”

“That where you’re from?”

“Yes ma’am.” He spoke while rubbing his thumb along your forearm sending a wave of chills down your body. “Born and raised, Texas is home.”

“Never been.” You admitted.

He gasped, “Well I’ll be. I’ll take you there one day.” He squeezed your arm gently.

“Oh really?”

“If you let me that is.” He spoke sounding rather nervous, a far cry from his previous flirting.

“We’ll see Tic Tac Toe.”

He threw his head back laughing loudly, “Hangman darling.”

“I like Candyland better.” You looked up to him for the first time since you two left the bar smiling as his green eyes reflected the sunset on the horizon.

“Well, I’ll tell you what darling,” he stopped abruptly which halted you in place, “you can call me whatever kids game you want if you let me take you out?”

Giggling you bit your cheek to suppress the grin forming on your face, “That’s a tempting offer.”

He nodded, “Then take it.” He winked down at you pulling you slightly closer to him.

You did want to take his offer. He was a beautiful man practically begging you to go on one date with him. Why were you so apprehensive? Was it the look Penny gave you before you went off with him? Was it the thought of even attempting to form a new relationship so soon after the last one ended? Was it simply because you were scared? You looked up at him biting your lip softly trying to form a coherent sentence with him looking at you so expectantly.

“What’s got you thinking so hard beautiful?” He asked while raising his eyebrow, curious to the girl’s apprehension. Jake wasn’t used to it. Sure, women have played hard to get but he always knew their end game. With you? He wasn’t so sure. You were shy, quiet and seemed uncertain. Something was stopping you and it was already driving Jake mad. You were simply different, as cliché as that sounds. You clearly wanted to entertain his advances, but he could not figure out the why, yet.

You hummed still trying to figure out what to say to him. Of course, the stupid blush you couldn’t hide crept back up onto your face. Should you just tell him the truth? You didn’t want to offload so much onto this nearly complete stranger, but he seemed so earnest, so eager to learn about you that you had the urge to.

Still stopped on the supposed walk you were supposed to be taking you finally garnered the courage to speak to him, “Jake, I just got out of a long and quite frankly heartbreaking relationship. I don’t know if I’m ready yet. I don’t want to string you along or hurt you.” You finished the last part of your statement quietly, so quietly you weren’t sure if he heard it.

There it was, he knew there had to be something. He also knew you were a total sweetheart just in the admission. You didn’t want to hurt him?

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

This question made you think. Did you want to talk about it? You’ve only talked to your mom about it, Penny a bit but the nitty gritty details were left out. You did want to talk about it, but with Jake? You weren’t sure.

“I don’t want to unload on you like that, I hardly know you.” You admitted sheepishly avoiding his gaze that never seemed to leave your face.

“And how do people get to know other people Y/N?” He asked sincerely, not trying to sound like an asshole but really trying to get to know you.

You let a small chuckle escape your mouth nodding your head to his point, “They talk.”

“Exactly.” He grinned at you once you finally got the courage to look back up to him, “And I asked about that, I want to know. But if you don’t want me to know that’s alright. There’s many things to talk about.”

You shook your head more in disbelief than anything, “Who are you, Jake? My aunt obviously thinks of you a certain way yet you’re speaking to me like somebody completely different.”

He shrugged, “She sees a certain persona that I want everybody to see. I’m not just that person, that’d make me a pretty awful person.”

“Then why do you put that persona out there?” You questioned, genuinely curious.

“That’s a great question Y/N. One that I’m still figuring out.”

You nodded at his honesty deciding to air out your own baggage to him, “My fiancée cheated on me. I’m not sure how many times or when it started but I caught him out one night at the bar making out with somebody else.” You spoke quickly.

He softly squeezed your arm in comfort, “That’s no man, darling. Dodged yourself a bullet.”

“Spent way to long chasing and holding onto that bullet.” You sighed.

The rest of your walk with Jake consisted of you spilling every detail, to an extent, to him. Something felt so right talking with him. He was the first person who just listened and let you speak your mind. He spoke up when you needed him to, but he let you get it al out. You also learned quite about him in return, you weren’t going to let him get away knowing so much of your baggage without knowing some of his.

He talked about the ‘one that got away’ and how he fucked it up. How his insecurities let the best thing that’s ever happened to him walk away. He admitted to you that he didn’t want to do that again, to feel such sadness knowing it was from your own mistakes.

Before the both of you knew it you spent two hours walking up and down the now dark beach as the sun had set hours prior. When you finally got back to the Hard Deck your aunt was closing the place down with Pete sitting there patiently waiting on her. You didn’t see any of the other aviators as you looked around.

“Have fun?” Penny asked eyeing you curiously seeing as who you came back to the bar with.

You nodded walking to her, Jake in tow, “I did.”

“Me too.” Jake chimed in placing his hand at the small of your back. You could not stop the shiver that ripped down your body from the feeling. You could have sworn you heard Jake laugh softly in response.

Penny smiled shaking her head, “That’s good. What’d you two do?”

You noticed Pete listening in but trying to make it seem like he wasn’t, “Just walked and talked.” You admitted without admitting a single thing.

Penny smiled eyeing Jake yet again, “Just, be careful.” She spoke to you.

“I am, don’t worry Aunt Pen.”

“It’s not you that I’m worried about.” She answered truthfully earning a chuckle from the tall blonde pilot.

“I can promise you Penny, there’s no way I could hurt this one right here. If anything, she’ll go breaking my heart.”

You rolled your eyes trying to play it off cool, but the blush had another idea. Penny grinned like a Cheshire cat seeing your reaction to his over-the-top statement. Penny handed the two of you another round of beers, on her, before quickly turning her attention back to cleaning and Pete.

Gaining some confidence as he led you away from earshot you finally said what you wanted to, “So Jake, about that date?

Part 2

#jake seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman x female!reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #glen powell #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #top gun hangman #top gun #hangman top gun #top gun fanfiction #lieutenant jake hangman seresin #hangman fluff #hangman fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

cant-get-enough-btr-forever · 5 months ago

Text

Welcome to MsMojo, and today we're counting down our picks for the Top 10 Big Time Rush Show Theories!

Okay, I'm not actually MsMojo.

But here are my theories, anyway. They get darker as you go down. You have been warned.

10) Mr. Knight's First Name Is Donald

This wouldn't be complete without a Kendall's Father Theory, so I included three of them.

In "Big Time Beach Party", Kendall's middle name is revealed to be Donald. I'd bet money that this is his dad's name.

9) Mr. Knight Is a Famous Athlete

Mr. Knight is probably a well-known athlete, at least in Minnesota. He was the kind of jock who got all the scholarships and trophies. Since Mama Knight was a cheerleader (revealed in "Big Time Pranks II"), she likely met him during a game. Since he particularly excelled at hockey, it became his main profession.

This would explain why Kendall loves hockey so much.

8) Carlos' Helmet Is a Gift From His Father

The age-old question: Why the heck is Carlos so obsessed with that helmet?

It's simple, really: His dad gave it to him when he was a child. As Mr. Garcia is a police officer, he was probably away from home for long periods of time. Carlos grew attached to the helmet during these periods, because it reminded him of his papi.

This attachment worsened after Carlos moved to California, for obvious reasons.

7) The Jennifers' Origin Story

I actually made a whole poll for this one (which is what inspired me to write this essay).

Until recently, I'd never given this question much thought: How did The Jennifers become The Jennifers? More importantly, why?

Well, I have a few theories. I'll list them in order of most to least plausible.

Theory 1: The Jennifers just happened to meet at the Palmwoods. Once they realized how much they had in common (right down to their names), they decided to form an alliance.

Why? They are insecure and ungainly on their own, so they find strength in numbers. Just look at what happens in "Big Time Prom Kings", when one of The Jennifers is separated from the others. She is shown to be an awkward weirdo.

Theory 2: They're victims of the Industry—that is, they were forced into this "mean girls" act. Their real names may not even be Jennifer.

Theory 3: They're adopted sisters. This means that their parents 1) took them in as babies and named them all Jennifer, or 2) only adopted kids named Jennifer. Either way, their parents are psychopaths.

6) Logan and James Are Only Children

Please don't cite me (or fight me) on this; I am not a psychologist. You can, however, cite this.

Being an only child would explain James' desire for fame/attention: He got undivided attention from his mom (maybe not his dad) as a child, so it carried over into his later years.

Or...maybe he didn't get enough attention as a child. This would've also carried over into his later years. So, really, it could've gone both ways.

It would even explain James' habit of talking to himself/the mirror. He had no siblings to vent to, and something tells me his parents weren't the listening types.

This is why Brooke Diamond was so against the idea of him leaving. Many people find it hard to part with their only child. And, in Brooke's case, the only heir to her company.

As for Logan, being an only child contributed to his social awkwardness. On the plus side, he was more successful academically, since he didn't have to vie for his parents' support. It's the opposite of James' situation, basically.

This is why no other siblings are mentioned in the show. Now, as for Carlos? Well...I got nothin'. He doesn't give off "only child" vibes to me. In fact, I can picture him as the youngest sibling in a big, happy family. Additionally, the odds of all three being only children are pretty slim.

Feel free to share your own theories as to why other siblings are never mentioned.

5) Logan Diamond

This is a wild one, but please hear me out.

In "Big Time Moms", Logan's real name is revealed to be Hortense. Brooke Diamond didn't like that name, so she ordered the boys to start calling him Logan instead.

But...where did Brooke get the name "Logan", anyway?

My first theory was that it's his middle name. Makes sense. Then I thought of another theory that isn't too far-fetched:

Brooke couldn't have just pulled the name out of thin air—she liked that name. That name was special to her.

What if "Logan" had been her second name choice for James? "James" may be Mr. Diamond's name, which is the only reason she went with it.

This would mean that we almost had a "Logan Diamond."

4) Gustavo's Wife Cheated on Him

It sounds funny. But it also makes sense, when you think about it.

Gustavo seems like this big, mean rock (pun intended) who is incapable of any emotion besides rage. However, in "Big Time Secret", he says (after eating Mama Knight's snickerdoodles),

So, clearly, he's been in love at least once.

Here's my take: He had a wife many years ago, before he was a famous producer. But once his fame increased, so did his job-related anger/stress. Growing tired of this, his wife became unfaithful. Eventually, she left him altogether.

This embittered him into the cynical, love-hating Gustavo we know today.

3) James Used to be Bullied

I think James was bullied as a child, before he met the other boys. Maybe he was made fun of for being underweight/overweight. Maybe he was one of those kids who had to wear headgear. Whatever the reason, he was ridiculed for the way he looked.

This is why he's so concerned with looks in his later years. He's afraid of being "ugly" because he's scarred by those bad memories.

2) Mr. Knight Cheated on Mrs. Knight

As I said in #9, Kendall's dad is likely a popular athlete. Famous athletes are often swimming in money...and fans. Mr. Knight would've had plenty of opportunities to be unfaithful. This is what led to his and Mama Knight's separation.

He left his family very little money, choosing instead to spend it on his mistress. Mama Knight was forced to wait tables in order to support her kids (she says so in "Big Time Demos").

So, it's easy to see why the Knights never speak of him. What makes this theory even better is that Challen Cates (Mama Knight's actress) kind of confirmed it in this tweet.

⭐⭐⭐

Before I unveil my #1 pick, here are some honorable mentions:

The Entirety of Big Time Movie Is Carlos' Dream

Think about it—Carlos didn't actually wake up at the start of the movie. The whole thing is just a continuation of his dream.

Jenny Tinkler Suffers From Spontaneous Human Combustion

How else do you explain the random fires she causes? There has been a surprising amount of research on this phenomenon, by the way.

Buddha Bob Comes From a Wealthy Family

This humble maintenance man mentions in "Big Time Fever" that he went to business school. He proves it by rattling off some genuine financial factoids.

Business school costs thousands of dollars. This leads me to believe one thing: His parents are loaded. I wouldn't be surprised if they bribed Mr. Bitters into hiring him.

(Of course, he could've also taken out a student loan. Maybe he's working at the Palmwoods to pay off his debt. I dunno.)

⭐⭐⭐

1) Logan's Father Is Dead

Why is Logan so bent on becoming a doctor? Yes, he's smart. But he doesn't quite fit the profile: He panics under pressure, is easily grossed out, and is indecisive. I would've expected him to pursue a career in astronomy, since it seems to suit him better.

So, I mulled for a bit, and this is what I came up with: Mr. Mitchell passed away from an illness when Logan was little. This is what fueled Logan's desire to help other sick people. It would also explain why we never see his dad—or even hear him mentioned.

This ties in with the "only child" theory, because Mrs. Mitchell probably never remarried. Thus, Logan never had any siblings.

Do you agree with my picks? Please share your own theories; I love to hear them! I've pinned a link to all my Big Time Rush essays (I plan on writing more). And to MsMojo: Please don't sue me.

#So basically Carlos is the only one with a happy backstory #big time rush #btrtv #big time movie #essay #kendall knight #logan mitchell #james diamond #carlos garcia #mama knight #gustavo rocque #brooke diamond #the jennifers #buddha bob #jenny tinkler

73 notes · View notes

jocelynscrazyideas · 7 months ago

Text

Baby I’m home! | Nico Hischier x Reader

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Warnings: smut, language, not much of dirty talk (there literally is none).

Summary: Nico come back from a roadie in Minnesota, they had lost their chance to get into the playoffs. Nico gets h0rny and…

A:N- HELP I’m so tired it’s so hard to keep writing, again I don’t have faith that I’ll like this piece but I spent 2 days trying to write it so here 🫶😉🍇

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After a roadie Nico returns home. The devs went to Minnesota and they had lost. Originally you were asked to come, actually the coaching staff were going to pay for some of the WAGs to go. Last time, the boys had gotten in a huge argument about the gameplay, and who should be on the first lineup. That’s not in their hands, it’s in the coaches and the stats of the players. Anyway, to keep them from miss behaving, the women were allowed to come.

“Baby!” Nico yells out for me in his American accent. He’s wearing his white tank top that stretch over his back and biceps, wow. He’s a smoke show.

“I wish you went! The Girls went out to the bars and the boys stayed behind and watched bar fights break out.” Nico explains. I’m actually quite nervous that he’s not showing any emotions.

Why is this loss so important? Because it was the devils last chance to win or even tie the game to get into the playoffs. Statistically in team stats overall no, they shouldn’t make it, but in number in points from each individual players had, yes they would have made it and probably win. John is an incredible defender, and so is Luke. Jack is a beautifully gifted skater and Jesper has the moves to skate within seconds across the whole rink. Ofcirese, Nico. My beautiful man. He is the most manly boy in the team, big muscles, coordination, and most importantly his social media presence. Everyone loves him.

I mean I love him.

“I know! I’m sorry.” I shout from our bedroom upstairs. Hear bags drop from downstairs and I think I hear some mumbling. I didn’t go on the roadie because I had work and I’m getting the worst headache for the last week.

“I brought up some meds. Does it still hurt?” Nico questioned and he pulls his tank top off and threw it onto our hamper that rots in our closet. Holy heaven of Abs. He’s just so fucking lovable, I don’t care about the fact he’s hot, but the way he carries himslef, he knows that no matter what he does, it’ll be intentional for him.

“Yes, thank you bubba.” I responded as I take the bottle of pills and take two pills. Yes, my head hurts so much I took two.

“Can we grab something to eat? I hungry.” Nico asked as he takes me by my hips.

He grasped onto my hips and ricks me back and forth, I can hear his stomach growl as he rests his head onto my shoulder. He shoved his head into the crook of my neck, I can feel him take my perfume from my body and pull it into his lungs. He’s smiling, I can feel his lips against my ear, and he starts to wrap his legs around my feet.

He starts to hurt me around and now I’m facing him, he’s looking straight into my eyes. He takes my hand and he places it to his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, and it’s pounding. My stomach drops as he sweeps my from my feet and onto the bed.

“Do you want food? Or we can stay in and shower, then you know do whatever.” Nico suggested, I can feel him slipping away from me. He gets up and grabs his bag.

“You better not get your gear! Its stinks!” I yell after him as nico turns to the stairs to grab his away game items.

“Baby!” Nico shouts for me. “Can you grab some milk? I wnat pasta.” Nico I a sucker for some creamy and thick pasta.

I run down the stairs and I slide into the kitchen in my socks. I have on my- well Nico’s favorite shirt on me, it’s a blue halter top that wraps around my neck with beads, it has shells laces together at the bottom almost as if it were a belly chain, and the shirt is cropped above my belly button and it’s ribbed. It’s cute, but it works better for a swimsuit cover up.

“You look sexy.” Nico slips as he eyes my shorts.

Nico,a boxers are a bit to big for me butt I slide them on anyway, and the best part is that it’s plain black, so it really does match my outfit, it’s called my “I don’t fucking care” outfit. I love the outfit, nice and short and skin tight so I can get every little breeze in, especially since it’s March and season is almost over.

“Are you gonna grab the milk? Also while you’re at it could you grab the packaged rav?” Nico requested as he slips his old man slippers on. He collects his supply’s such as a pan, the milk I gave him and the ravioli, and of course some pesto. It’s not really pasta, but he diced up some cheese, slipped some butter in the ravioli, and he stirred everything together. He lets it set as he grabs two plates. I didn’t wnat any but he knew I haven’t eaten since he left. He puts some buttered pesto cheesy ravioli on my plate and as the man he is, he cooked it so he gets more. He just flips the pan upside down and gathers all of the pasta.

He finished up with dishes since we finished the ravioli, it was delicious.

“So, you wanna shower?” Nico asked me and I can feel him getting really close to me. He picks my hands up and we start to slow dance to the sound of construction in the neighborhood.

“Yeah, well YOU need to shower more, you’re stinky.” I say in a sarcastic way. He looks me dead in the eye and he picks me up. He carry’s me up the stairs and he throws me down onto the bed.

The blunt force of getting absolutely demolished by this man felt oddly great. He pulls my hair to the side and he starts to kiss my neck. I feel his stubble graze my skin. He’s warm breath is trapped in between my jawline and his lips. He pulls away and rubs his chest, he walks out of the room.

I hear the shower turn on, he moans along the sound of water hitting the grout in the bathroom. Nico enters the room eyeing his next meal.

Me.

I took my clothes off and I lay back as if I didn’t move. Nico runs towards me and kisses my forehead all the way down to my belly button. He licks my creases. He holds my breasts as he nibbles down onto my thigh. He looks up at me grinning, and I understand what is about to happen.

Water is everywhere. Nico had picked me up and slid his pants off. We had been teasing eachother for about three minutes, then he got to needy. His very hard veiny cock hits his abdomen every time I kiss him, it’s like it has its on pulse.

“Never stop.” Nico says as I go down to my knees. I kiss his v-line and he holds onto my hair. He grips onto me and he pressed his back against the wall. I lick his tip, and then I start to pump. I again start to take him into my mouth, I feel like gagging, it’s so gross, I c at take the taste of cum, but for him I will. I start to moan, enjoying my time trying to please him. Nico throws his head back and starts to get loud, he bangs his hand against the opposite wall, and he’s hunched over. I have very little space to suck. The water starts to get cold so I get up from going down on him. I turn the water to a hotter temperature and I massage his biceps, he starts to get really really warm. He dick is really pushed up against himself.

Nico looks like he’s going to cum, I mean he already did in my mouth, but now he’s opening his mouth anbd says “Turn.” One work that this man says to me and I fold. Nico takes me by my waist and bends down. He’s on one knee as he grips onto me. Nico pumps himself, he’s jerking hard enough to cause me cum. He starts to kiss me down under. I look down and he’s on both knees now, making love to my pussy.

I start to move, I can’t take it anymore, I pull his hand away from my upper body and force three fingers up my hole.

“Woah, woah, you can’t get it to fast.” Nico pulls out and sucks on his finger. He gets up and he pulls me onto his chest. I feel his cock on my back. I turn on my heels and I find Nico smirking down at me. I lay down in the shower as steam fills the large room.

“Legs.” Nico says, but in his switz accent. I do as I’m told and I start to run my clit.

“You’re soaking.” Nico eyes my pussy as he pumps into me. I feel his tip, now his whole cock is inside. He’s warm, and I can feel him twitch as he try’s to say, “can I?” He’s asking for approval to start moving, and I oblige.

“Yes, and of fucking course I’m soaking.” I say as I look up towards the hot water. Nico develops red dots on his back as he starts to thrust himself into me.

“Come for me baby.”

I start to moan and I feel him practically in my lungs. He stands up as he starts to cum. Strings of our future kids are coming out of my 3rd favorite piece of him.

“Oh baby.” I look at him and his dimples are showing. I start to cum again when I see him stand up.

I push him back down as I throw myslef on top of him. I sit on him and his friend. I take a minute to catch my breath as I relax to take him. It’s been four days since we’ve had sex. I push my hand onto his chest and my other in his abs, I can feel him cum, streams of warm substance fills me, and I take myself off of him. I sit in his face and he licks me clean, but that’s before I start to cum into his mouth.

“Let’s clean up, so we can do it again later.” Nico request as I get up and I start to clean up my hair from the knots it’s been tangled into. I grab shampoo and lather it onto Nico’s head and into mine. I feel Nico wash his head as the water falls into my crevices.

We warm up and dry off and Nico swoops me up again and he snuggles me into his arms as he turns our heated blanket on. I’m stuck in his large arms and I’m glad it’s him I can feel poking up at me again.

“Baby, I’m glad you’re home.” I say as I turn my head around to kiss his cheek.

#jocelynscrazyideas #hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier #njd #nj devils #switzerland #captain hischier #nico hischer x reader #smut #🍇🍇🍇#jack hughes

106 notes · View notes

gilverrwrites · 6 months ago

Text

Michael/Reader, 1.6K words Established vee dynamic: Michael/Adam & Adam/Reader, which will evolve into a triad. [1/3] Four things you explain to Michael, and one thing he explains to you. [X][2][3]

Chapter 1: Buffy, Bussin', and Kiss-Cams.

It took a while to get there but telling the differences between Adam and Michael had been easier than expected. Like now for example. If Adam was manning their body he would have slouched beside you on the couch, helped himself to your snacks, and asked you about your day. Instead, Michael stood, looming in the doorway of the living room. His stance is like a soldier at attention, head high, shoulders straight, watching you with no expression.

“Hello, Michael.” You greeted. “How are you today?”

“I am well.” He approaches, situating himself between you and the TV screen. “What is this?”

“I’m good too, thank you for asking.” Social queues will likely never be his thing. “This is a TV show.”

“I am aware.” His shoulders sag briefly, unamused by your sarcasm. Whether he understood that you were teasing is a mystery, he likely thinks that you’re an idiot who thinks he’s an idiot, which is arguably funnier. “I meant, what television show is it?”

“Buffy.” You answer. “It’s actually really good, it’s about a teenage girl who is the chosen one-“

“Chosen?” He interrupts, but you let it slide. You wonder if he’s thinking of how he was once ‘chosen’, and now he’s here, metaphorically sandwiched between his partner and his partner's partner in a tiny apartment in Minnesota. He could leave at any time, commandeer their body, or escape it entirely and take off, but he doesn’t, he hasn’t. Which really speaks to how much he cares for Adam.

“Yeah, she’s the one true slayer, kind of. So, she has to juggle killing vampires and stuff with normal high school things, like homework and boys.”

He’s looking at the screen, not at you, but you can see his eyes narrow. You think he might be scrutinising your choice in vapid human media, but his response surprises you.

“Yes, I recall Adam used to watch this show with his mother.” His probing glance falls back to you now. Adam is there, they’re both always there, but it still feels like you’re discussing him behind his back, so you awkwardly attempt to move on from the subject.

“Oh, well… Would you like to sit and watch it with me?” You shuffle over, making space for him beside you and patting the pillow.

“No.” Michael is just a blunt person? Being? Angel. So, you don’t take the sting of his rejection to heart.

But despite his rebuttal, he makes no attempt to move. Instead, standing stock still in the middle of the room. Occasionally asking questions as the time passes.

“Who is that?”

“That’s Angel. Buffy’s sort of on again off again boyfriend.”

“Angel?”

“Yeah, he’s not an angel, he’s a vampire.”

“How paradoxical.”

“That one reminds me of you.”

“Who? Cordelia?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“She talks too much.”

“Why does Willow simply not confront this Xander boy about her, albeit inadvisable feelings for him?”

“Teenagers are stupid.”

“Humans are stupid.”

“Thanks.”

Four episodes later he remains unmoved, you’d tried not to speak to him unless spoken too, afraid you might scare, or more likely annoy him away, but your stomach is starting to grumble.

“I’m gonna order takeout, do you want anything?” It’s not addressed to Michael, and he knows that.

Their posture falters as Adam takes over. Adam also moves with confidence, but his is far more relaxed, comfortable in his own body. The couch pillows dip under his weight as he sits beside you, arm casually draping over your shoulders. He greets you with a familiar boyish grin that makes your heart flutter. “Pizza?”

Something is wrong. That much is evident by Michael’s uncharacteristically expressive face. He’d been silent when he’d returned home from the store, a chore he and Adam had taken up since their return from the cage, a familiar, easy task that helped to ease them into modern society.

You could tell it was Michael because he’d been ignoring your presence since he returned home, quietly, and strategically putting away the shopping bar a solitary; “Hello.”

Now he was eyeing a single can of Monster Energy Drink that sat alone on the kitchen counter. The intensity of his stare had you worried it might explode. You certainly would not be cleaning that up.

“Something on your mind?” You ask, keeping your tone calm, and pleasant. Not letting on to your amusement at his one-sided staring contest.

He spares you a scornful glance, before looking back at the can. Then he seems to have a light bulb moment, body perking up as he turns to you once more. He might actually think you’re useful for something other than Adams's enjoyment.

“Yes. What is ‘bussing’?” The word sounds so comical coming from his lips, and you suppress a laugh, not wanting to patronise him or dampen his curiosity.

“Bussin’?” You repeat, ensuring you heard him right.

“Yes. ‘Bussing’. We heard a boy at the store use the word to refer to this. Adam nor I have heard the term used in this context before.”

Adam had filled Michael in on a lot of modern and pop culture things, but having been locked in a cage for the last decade meant that he was a little behind the times. You made a mental note to ask him later if not understanding the latest slang terms made him feel old.

“It just means something is really good.” You explain, and his face drops.

He picks up the can, swaying it back and forth as he examines the label. It hisses as he eventually cracks it open, and his face scrunches when he gives it a sniff.

Adam only eats and drinks to maintain a feeling of normalcy, Michael’s grace dissolving any actual need for human bodily functions. Michael never eats or drinks, so the prospect of his first taste of human food being a sip of Monster excites you greatly. What a terrible introduction.

He must sense your anticipation because he turns, body shifting completely to face you. His face remains stoic, excluding his eyes which watch you hopefully as he extends the drink to you. “Would you like a taste?”

“Uh, sure.” You take the can from him and allow yourself a mouthful before handing it back to him. It’s sugary, and sour, and abhorrently fizzy, just as you’d expected, but you try not to let your face give anything away. “It’s fine. Your turn.”

“Fine.” He repeats under his breath, hesitating as he brings it to his lips. He takes a quick sip before slamming the can forcibly back onto the table, gritting his teeth, clearly repulsed by whatever is going on in his mouth right now. “That is not bussing.”

Michael hadn’t exactly taken to human pastimes like a fish in water, preferring to take a back seat and let Adam enjoy himself. He had, however, found a great appreciation for war films, books about astronomy, and sports. Particularly, sports that had a strategy aspect to them. Which is how you’d found yourself in the bleachers of an ice hockey match beside him.

Adam liked sports too, but not to the same degree. Michael sat, hunched over, weight on his knees as he watched the players glide across the ice, batting the puck this way and that. The match was tense, and the atmosphere lively, so you didn’t really mind his silence. You knew he wasn’t ignoring you, just focusing on the game. Even the quarterly breaks were filled with music, the big screen displaying funny accidents and lookalikes, which kept you entertained.

All in all, you were having a good time, and when the kiss-cam popped up, you watched, amused as the camera crew zoomed in on different couples. You watched an array of different kisses, some cute, some awkward, some a little R-rated. It was all fun and games until you recognised yourself on the screen.

Panic rushed through your body as you turned to look at Michael. You’d come around to the fact that Michael was always there. Always. Even for the intimate moments. But there was a massive difference between Michael being there during a kiss, and kissing Michael.

You’re not sure if your sudden nervousness or the cheering crowd watching him from every angle clued him in, but Micheal takes notice, looking up at his own face on the display and asking; “Why are we on the screen?”

“It’s a kiss-cam. They want us to kiss.” You hope that filling him in will bring Adam front and centre, but to no avail. Adam doesn’t want to play right now it seems. Probably revenge for implying he was old. “I’ll wave them away.”

“Don’t.” He instructs, and before you can process what’s happening his lips are on yours.

He tastes like Adam, like sugary cereal and cheap cola. He feels like Adam, clean-shaven and soft lips. But he does not kiss you like Adam.

Adam kisses you like he might never see you again. Like it’s been a thousand years since he’s last laid his lips on you and he wants to commit every micro-movement of your body, every inch of your mouth to memory. His kisses are intense and passionate.

Micheal is the opposite, surprisingly. This might be the gentlest he’s ever been, he presses his lips to your delicately, like he might break you if he uses too much pressure. A hand cups the side of your face with the tenderness one would show a wounded animal. He kisses you like you’re made of glass and must be cherished.

When he pulls away you feel completely flushed and unsure how to proceed. The kiss-cam is gone, and the screen counts down the seconds until the game continues. Micheal, in preparation, has resumed his watching position, leaving you to stew in your own emotions, likely oblivious to the many, many thoughts flooding your mind.

Please remember: Being sensitive is not a weakness.

#supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #adam milligan #adam milligan x reader #spn michael #spn michael x reader #gilverrwrites

100 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 months ago

Text

Last weekend, former President Donald Trump posted another anti-immigrant screed to Truth Social. It would have been unremarkable ― at least, graded on the Trumpian curve of extreme xenophobia ― except for one word.

“[We will] return Kamala’s illegal migrants to their home countries (also known as remigration),” he wrote. “I will save our cities and towns in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, and all across America.”

Many people might have glossed over his use of “remigration.” White nationalists did not.

“#Remigration has had a massive conceptual career,” Martin Sellner — leader of the Austrian chapter of Generation Identity, a pan-European white supremacist network — tweeted in his native German. “Born in France, popularized in German-speaking countries and now the term of the hour from Sweden to the USA!”

It was a succinct and accurate history from Sellner, a 35-year-old who typically trafficks in vicious lies and conspiracy theories, particularly about Black and brown people. He has been at the vanguard of pushing “remigration” — a euphemism for ethnically cleansing non-white people from Western countries — into the popular political lexicon in Europe.

Now Sellner was seeing his favorite little word all grown up, moving overseas in service of the 45th president of the United States, who has promised to implement the largest mass deportation of immigrants in U.S. history if elected back to the White House in six weeks’ time.

Trump’s use of “remigration” is the latest instance of the GOP’s intensifying anti-immigrant rhetoric in the run-up to November’s election, underscoring the degree to which one of America’s two major political parties is sourcing many of its talking points and policy ideas directly from neo-fascists.

“Trump’s rhetoric about ‘remigration’ has its origins in the international far-right,” Jakob Guhl, a senior manager of policy and research at the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, explained to HuffPost in an email. “The term remigration was popularized by groups adhering to Identitarianism, a pan-European ethno-nationalist movement, as their policy to reverse the so-called ‘great replacement.’”

“The great replacement theory is a conspiracy theory which claims that ‘native’ Europeans are being deliberately replaced through non-European migration while suppressing European birth-rates,” he continued. “This theory has inspired numerous terrorist attacks, including the Christchurch massacre, where 51 people were killed, as well as attacks in Poway, El Paso, Halle, Buffalo, and Bratislava.”

Pat Buchanan, the onetime presidential hopeful and former aide to President Richard Nixon, used the term “remigration” to whitewash his own call for ethnic cleansing as early as 2006, in his racist tract “State of Emergency: The Third World Invasion and Conquest of America.” But the term’s journey into the Trump campaign’s vernacular more likely got its start in November 2014, when 500 far-right activists gathered in Paris.

The inaugural Assises de la Remigration, or Annual Meeting on Remigration, was organized by Generation Identity. Its featured speaker was Renaud Camus, the travel writer-turned-philosopher who coined the term “great replacement” in his 2012 book by the same name. Camus’ book built off the work of another French author, Jean Raspail, who wrote “The Camp of the Saints,” an extraordinarily racist French novel that depicts a flotilla of feces-eating brown people invading Europe.

“The Great Replacement is the most serious crisis that France has witnessed in 15 centuries,” Camus told the crowd, eliding many bloody episodes in the country’s history, including a pair of world wars that killed nearly 2 million French people. For Camus, “remigration” was the best solution to the imagined crisis of the “great replacement,” the two terms essentially joined at the hip.

Camus and his fellow subscribers to identitarianism “have always been quite clear that the objective of ‘remigration’ is to create greater ‘ethnocultural’ homogeneity,” Ruhl told HuffPost. “For them, culture and ethnicity are inseparable, and they view (white) European identity as being fundamentally threatened by the presence of migrants ― necessitating drastic, far-reaching responses.”

According to a study by the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, the term “remigration” was “used over 540,000 times between April 2012 and April 2019” on Twitter, particularly from accounts in France and Germany. Usage of the term skyrocketed after the Annual Meeting on Remigration in Paris. Camus himself was one of the main promoters of the word online.

As “remigration” became an increasingly discussed term, militant far-right groups adapted it as their own. In 2017, police in France arrested 10 far-right activists over a suspected plot to kill politicians and migrants and to attack mosques. Officers found a shotgun and two revolvers in the home of the group’s ringleader, who’d sought to create a militia, according to a post on Facebook, to kill “arabs, blacks dealers, migrants, [and] jihadist scum.” Per French investigators, the group, known as OAS, was formed to “spark remigration.”

The term made an appearance in Canada, too, where a far-right fight club called Falange — named for the fascist group that served under the Spanish general Francisco Franco during the Spanish Civil War — put signs with the word “Remigration” across Quebec City.

And that same year in the U.S., the group Identity Evropa — modeled after Generation Identity in Europe — burst into the public consciousness for its participation in the deadly white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia. Identity Evropa’s proposed policies included “remigration,” and when its members marched in Charlottesville, they invoked the “great replacement” concept, chanting “You will not replace us.”

Back in Europe, in March 2019, Sellner started a channel on the chat app Telegram called the “European Compact for Remigration,” the beginning of a campaign, he announced, to influence far-right parties across Europe to support “de-Islamisation” and “remigration.”

That same month, a white supremacist in Christchurch, New Zealand, livestreamed himself walking into two mosques and opening fire, killing 51 Muslim worshipers. He’d posted a genocidal screed online before the shooting. Its title was “The Great Replacement.” Nevertheless, one week after the shooting, Sellner’s Generation Identity group in Austria staged a protest against the “great replacement,” again calling for “de-Islamisation” and “remigration.”

A couple of months later, it emerged that the shooter in New Zealand had communicated with Sellner only a year prior, donating over $2,300 to Sellner’s white supremacist group. “Thank you that really gives me energy and motivation,” Sellner wrote to the shooter in an email.

“If you ever come to Vienna,” Sellner added, “we need to go for a café or a beer.”

Despite these revelations, Sellner’s efforts to get far-right political parties to support remigration started to see results in the following years. In 2019, Alternative for Deutschland — which recently became the first far-right party since the Nazis to win a state election in Germany — inserted “remigration” into its list of official policy proposals.

Four years later, an investigation from Correctiv found that AfD members held a secret meeting with neo-Nazis and wealthy businesspeople to discuss the “remigration” of asylum seekers, immigrants with legal status, and “unassimilated citizens” to a “model state” in North Africa. The plan — which bore an unnerving resemblance to the Nazis’ initial idea to mass-deport Jews to Madagascar, before they settled on a wholesale extermination campaign — was Sellner’s brainchild.

That same year, as noted recently by Mother Jones, a jury of linguists in Germany selected “remigration” as the “non-word” of the year. “The seemingly harmless term remigration is used by the ethnic nationalists of the AfD and the Identitarian Movement to conceal their true intentions: the deportation of all people with supposedly the wrong skin color or origin, even if they are German citizens,” one guest juror wrote.

Mother Jones also noted that earlier this year, “an AfD candidate in Stuttgart campaigned with the slogan ‘Rapid remigration creates living space,’ a nod to the concept of Lebensraum used by the Nazis to justify the genocidal expansion into Eastern Europe.”

And finally, this year in Austria, the far-right Freedom Party (FPOe), founded after World War II by former Nazis, and which recently enjoyed success in national elections, called for the creation of a “remigration commissioner” in the country.

Still, very few, if any, U.S. politicians have uttered the word “remigration” in recent years. Trump’s use of the term stateside has coincided with his renewed embrace of dehumanizing language when talking about immigrants.

The former president’s promotion of a false story about Haitian immigrants eating pets in Ohio was classic fascist fare, depicting an entire category of people as savages. And earlier this year, the GOP nominee said immigrants were “poisoning the blood” of the nation. Historians quickly noted that Trump’s language echoed the words of Adolf Hitler. “All great cultures of the past perished only because the originally creative race died out from blood poisoning,” Hitler wrote in “Mein Kampf.”

But who in Trump’s orbit might have introduced him to the term “remigration”? The Trump campaign didn’t immediately respond to HuffPost’s request for comment. One possible culprit, though, might be Stephen Miller, who served in the Trump White House as an adviser and speechwriter. Miller’s ties to white supremacists are legion, and while working as an editor at Breitbart in 2015, according to leaked emails obtained by the Southern Poverty Law Center, he suggested the website publish articles about “The Camp of the Saints,”the racist French novel that inspired Renaud Camus.

Miller, like Sellner, was thrilled with Trump’s use of “remigration” last weekend.

“THE TRUMP PLAN TO END THE INVASION OF SMALL TOWN AMERICA: REMIGRATION!” he tweeted.

39 notes · View notes

madamepestilence · 1 year ago

Text

2024 US Election Information

We have roughly 1 year until the 2024 US election. I've put in some research, and here are my conclusions.

TLDR for those of you who don't have time or focus: Cornel West (Democratic Socialist running as People's Party -> Green Party) is the ideal candidate to vote for - normally I wouldn't advocate voting third party, but we may actually have a shot for once, and he has excellent policies. Jill Stein (Green Party) is a potential backup, though if West drops out, our best option for Democratic party is Marianne Williamson.

Please spread this information, especially to residents of Texas, Pennsylvania, Georgia, Arizona, Wisconsin, and Nevada. Detailed information under the cut.

Current Fascist and Republican Candidates

Donald Trump, Nikki Haley, Vivek Ramaswamy, Asa Hutchinson, Tim Scott, Ron DeSantis, Chris Christie, Ryan Binkley, and Doug Burgum.

I'm not going to entertain their details, but I will note that the information I picked up while being exposed to alt-right communities from the inside via my fascist parents earlier this year shows strong evidence that Republicans are likely going to split between Donald Trump, Ron DeSantis (viewed as a betrayal by Trump supporters), and openly fascist Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. (I'll cover him later).

My guess is a 6/3/1 Republican vote split between Trump/DeSantis/Kennedy, Jr..

Current Democratic Candidates

Joe Biden, Marianne Williamson, and Dean Philips.

Biden has overall failed to complete the majority of his campaign promises, and has been directly supporting Israel during the genocide of Palestine, as well as deferring to Republicans to be "bipartisan" (I don't think I have to stress enough that a bipartisan democrat is not a democrat) - do not vote for him.

Williamson is a high-school educated 71-year-old author from Los Angeles, California. She is known for being Oprah Winfrey's, "spiritual advisor," (double red flag), and dropped out during the 2020 election (another red flag).

While she supports the reinstatement of Roe v. Wade, the decriminalization of cannabis and psychedelic drugs, the reduction of CO2, and moving to 100% renewable energy by 2035, her advocacy for the outright banning of assault and semi-assault weapons for civilians without military reform of the same is a slight red flag when combined with her relationship with Oprah Winfrey (an Obama supporter, the president who authorized quite a lot of drone strikes in West Asia) and drop-out makes her not a great candidate.

Philips is a Bachelor's (Brown University) and Master's Business (University of Minnesota) educated 54-year-old three-term congressman who is noted for criticizing Biden running for a second term on account of both political moderacy and medical concerns.

Philips unfortunately wants to increase police funding for some reason, but advocated for better training, including mental health training. He also advocates for what he calls, "comprehensive immigration reform," in the form of increased border security and streamlining legal entry (this ignores the problem outlined by the UN that people seeking asylum are likely to have to enter a country illegally before they can seek support), and the only real good stance he has is giving reproductive rights to patients, rather than politicians.

Philips is essentially a moderate Republican, and is a bad candidate. Do not vote for him.

Current Independent Candidates

Fascist (not his stated political stance, but it's what he is)

Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. is a fascist that has openly quoted Nazi propaganda in his political campaigns, is an anti-vaccine activist, and has spread anti-science conspiracy theories such as vaccines causing autism and the non-existence of the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic. I cannot stress this enough, do not fucking vote for Kennedy, Jr.

Democratic Socialist

Cornel West is a Bachelor's (Harvard University), Master's, and Ph.D. (both Princeton University) educated 70-year-old progressive activist that switched his running party from the People's Party to the Green Party, despite being a both public- and self-described democratic socialist.

When asked why he wasn't running as a Democrat against Biden, he stated that, "Neither party is speaking to the pressing needs of poor and working people."

His party plans are a wealth tax on the rich, a national $27 minimum wage, a federal Universal Basic Income, 6 months of paid family leave, a 4-day work week, national free Pre-K childcare, "Immediate cessation of all oil and gas leasing projects on federal lands and waters," "Federal moratorium on fracking, carbon capture, and direct air capture technologies, geoengineering, and other false climate solutions," putting abortion rights in the Constitution, and nationalized healthcare.

Here's where I want to lay out something important. I normally wouldn't advocate for voting for a third party candidate due to the Spoiler Effect, but

Considering the United States' Democratic majority, popular vote records showing a common Republican minority, the absolutely incredible policies West stands for,

The growing support for third parties in the United States, and his policies aligning with public opinion,

Cornel West is the ideal candidate to vote for. Spread this information like wildfire - we may have one shot at the first third party win in US history in the upcoming 2024 election, and

If successful the dominant parties will be Fascist vs. Socialist, denying most, if not all, future Republican wins.

Our target toss-up states are Pennsylvania, Georgia, Arizona, Wisconsin, and Nevada.

Converting Texas to third party, or even just Democrat, will throw the Republican vote entirely and all but guarantee a Democrat, or hopefully third party, 2024 election win,

Which is absolutely possible, as Texas is majority Democrat and wins Republican votes via gerrymandering despite public opinion, which is why it swings occasionally.

Democrat states also need to be switched to majority third party votes, with particular emphasis on California, New York, and Illinois.

GET PEOPLE TO VOTE FOR CORNEL WEST!

Reference map of polling for the future 2024 election:

Libertarian (slightly Conservative to alt-right, really depends on the person)

Chase Oliver is a surprisingly progressive high school educated 38-year-old anti-war Libertarian that left the Democratic party after witnessing Obama's aggressive anti-West Asian war policies who has expressed desires for criminal justice reform and ending wars abroad, though hasn't elaborated on either.

Green Party

Jill Stein is a Bachelor's (Harvard University) and Medical (Harvard Medical University) 73-year-old Jewish doctor who previously ran for and represented the Green-Rainbow Party as the governor of Massachusetts.

Stein is notable for being an activist and protestor who has both protested outside buildings and testified before legislative and other government bodies against coal plants, mercury leaks, and unclean and unsafe groundwater.

Presumably, her stances will focus on environmental protections, trans rights, and Jewish protections, making her a potential alternative should West drop out.

Conclusions:

Again, don't fucking vote for Trump, Haley, Ramaswamy, Hutchinson, Scott, DeSantis, Christie, Binkley, Burgum, Biden, Philips, or Kennedy, Jr..

Our potential backup Democratic candidate is Williamson.

The ideal candidate is West, with Stein as a viable backup.

As absurd as it sounds, I want you to vote third party for Cornel West.

If you want a wealth tax on the rich, a national $27 minimum wage, a federal Universal Basic Income,

6 months of paid family leave, a 4-day work week, national free Pre-K childcare,

"Immediate cessation of all oil and gas leasing projects on federal lands and waters," "Federal moratorium on fracking, carbon capture, and direct air capture technologies, geoengineering, and other false climate solutions,"

putting abortion rights in the Constitution, and nationalized healthcare,

VOTE FOR CORNEL WEST AND GET OTHER PEOPLE TO DO THE SAME.

WE HAVE A CHANCE AT THE FIRST THIRD PARTY WIN IN THE UNITED STATES AND THE DENIAL OF FUTURE REPUBLICAN WINS.

255 notes · View notes