Not Letting That Nasty Nepo Baby Ruin This Picture For Me, We Move

this is definitely my favorite edit of paige 🤭

https://x.com/BallySportsNOR/status/1827478315017654699?t=YxfC6CuVJ5dAMTD1ZJOWWg&s=19

why does she sound/look so dykey in this video

icl her piercings are moving me idt she had them like this at iowa?

her face after aubrey’s pitch im crying

hey darlin’…

*giggles and blushes like a schoolgirl* (both of us)

LMAOOO YALL SAID FIGHT BACK SO SHE DID

🤯

The way she’s been feeding us w the low slick back bun😩🙏🏾

HOPE OF IT ALL

Pairing: Austin Butler x Younger!reader

Summary: You’ve never tasted a love that wasn’t yours, because you didn’t even know that it wasn’t yours to begin with. It was borrowed.

Warning: Slight mentions of smut. Cheating.

Note: sorry I haven’t been very active, I know I said I would be but this week has been a bit difficult for me— personally. I apologize again.

Coachella 2013, salted air and the heat of the desert under the sun. You never needed anything more, not when you had Austin by your side.You practically begged your parents to let you come all the way here with him.

“I’ll take real care of her.” He told your parents, your father trusted him a little too much. You clung to Austin’s arm tightly, as if to assure your parents.

You packed your carefully arranged outfits for the weekend, you worked on making flower crowns for each day, and packed everything you needed. You kissed your mother goodbye and you were off to go.

Firstly, you two rented a small house close to the festival— expensive as hell but you used your savings. You were so excited as you settled into the bedroom. You were eighteen and it would be your first music festival, you knew you’d sleep on the same bed, you just didn’t expect things to escalate that night.

It started with him giving you a beer, then kisses here and there, then making out on the bed. Slowly unbuttoning your denim shorts. Your hands on his biceps.

“Are you sure?” He whispered in between kisses, his plump lips pulling away from yours.

“Never have I ever done this before.” You whispered back. You were a bit shaky, nervous. He could feel it in the way you gripped his biceps tightly.

“I’ll be gentle, baby.” He whispered before his hand went inside your panties. Making you groan in ways you would consider animalistic. You just kept spreading your legs for him, he only laughed in your lips.

He laughed at how naive you were, how you sounded so lost and needy at the feeling of his skilled hands.You lost your virginity to him, he was really gentle with you, making sure you were okay— even if he wished he could be rough.

“M’gonna go all in, baby.” He warned you before slamming right inside of you, you threw your head back and your eyes rolled at the back of your head, he gripped the sheets, his knuckles turning white.

His silver chain glinting and hitting you in the face, his face scrunching due to the pleasure.

“So tight, so good for me.” He moaned, then went to kiss your neck.

It wasn’t all perfect, you giggled a lot too, nervous giggles, of insecurity, of not knowing what you were doing.

The next morning, you woke up by his side, he was already awake, checking his phone. “Well, good morning.” His voice was hoarse, from sleep. “Get ready, gotta get going.”

You got ready quickly, took a shower, dried your hair, put on a shit ton of sunscreen, a shit ton of blush. Wore your overpriced clothes from Urban Outfitters and thrift stores.

The air was salty at Coachella, crisp and hot, very hot. But you had Austin by your side. He got a lot of stares, those biceps took away all the attention.

“Now, don’t get too far away from me. Hold on tight. I don’t want to have to fill out a missing person report.” He warned you, tugging at your braids.

“I promise. I don’t want to get lost—“ you looked around, everyone either looked stoned or way too on their world, “here.”

It was filled to the brim with people, but you never left his side not even a second. It was a bliss from then. Listening to the sets, dancing around with him, smoking weed— because yes, he had to give you a try at least once in your life.

“Want to try?” He asked as you sat down together in a blanket.

“Weed?” You asked, whispering, as if he had brought meth or something.

“No, I meant fighting lions.” Austin said sarcastically, lowkey playfully annoyed. “Yes, weed.”

You bit your lip, you’ve seen people do LSD here, no one cared to say the least, there were too many people packed here for anyone to notice.

At first you coughed, he laughed at you, then he proceeded to teach you how to smoke, thirty minutes later— you were in the clouds.

Your brain acting as if you were in Woodstock ‘69, twirling around with him, him trying to make you sit down as the sun wore down.

“So fucking pretty.” He muttered against your ear as he kissed down your jaw.

“Austin—“ you chuckled, looking at all the people around you. “The people—“

“Back at the hotel you were moaning all pretty. Didn’t care if someone heard ya, right?” He caught your lips in a very passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that would get dirty looks.

The three days Coachella lasted, you felt enamored, that kind of feeling you only get with very special people. The kind of feeling that only ever replayed in certain memories.

Like staring at him as he danced to some artist he only knew, it happened in slow motion. He was yours, or so you thought.

Or those moments in which a bottle of wine that was sipped away carelessly and swiftly laid on the floor, long forgotten because you were twisted in bedsheets by his side.

But it all happened rather quickly, it sure did. Because on the last day, you woke up by his side. His back beneath the sun, you wished you could write your name on it. You dreaded this day because you didn’t want this escapade to end.

Packing bags while Led Zeppelin played in the background. He grabbed one of the wine bottles from the floor and took one last sip from it, then tossed it to the trash can without a care in the world.

He found one last good use for it and then tossed it away.

“Will you call once I go back to school?” You asked him, a freshman in college. The highlight of your day was your favorite subject and him remembering to call or text you.

He was— different. A bit more distant.

“I’ll try to.” He answered, biting the inside of his cheek. “If I don’t get too busy.”

“It’s okay. I’ll wait.” You answered, pressing your lips together.

Once he dropped you off, he kissed you one last time, then basically shoved you off his car.

You only told your mom what was convenient— yes, we slept in separate beds, yes, we didn’t drink, yes, he didn’t touch me.

She didn’t know you still expected him to call you over to his house so you could feel him again. How you were so hopeful that he’d take you out on another date.

You were changing for the better. Hopeful. Hopeful. Hopeful. People would think you were naive, any normal girl would have caught the hint and understood that he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

But you still remembered, you did, you could see you both lost in the memories, that weekend slipped away into a moment in time. You had him, or at least you remembered thinking you had him.

You started cancelling plans, hoping he’d call, he always called you on fridays before Coachella. He didn’t anymore. But you were still hopeful. Excepting to hear his voice on the other side, saying: “meet me behind the mall’’

Meet me behind the mall.

Meet me behind them all.

It all started with your friend showing you a pic of Austin and Vanessa, very clearly together, all over each other.

“This your man?”

You wanted the earth to swallow you whole, because yes, you had been proudly showing them photos of you two since you basically started hooking up with him. He was easily recognizable.

“We’re not together anymore. Broke up after Coachella.” You tried to deny it. You did it out of humiliation. You didn’t want to feel played even though you did.

“Really? Well that was quick. Guess pretty boys move on pretty fast.”

You pressed your lips together and nodded.

Maybe you hadn’t been enough. Maybe you wanting it wasn’t enough. But for you it was enough.

You were mad at him, at her, at yourself. You weren’t even sure what to feel. You texted him a thousand times, demanding an explanation. Not a single response until you saw him again.

“Oh, fuck me.” You said, your hand gripped your shopping bag. You fought yourself to approach him or not approach him. But your body moved in autopilot, it was your only chance.

He saw you, from the distance. He started walking away. He heard you calling out his name.

“Nope, not doing this.” He said, loud enough so you could hear him. Until he decided to fucking man up. Why was he running away from a girl? Coward.

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. That smugness in his face. Biting his cheek as you spoke.

“You’ve been ignoring me for weeks! And I found out you have a girlfriend? How long have you been seeing her while we were together? What about us?” You yelled, rage coming from within you.

He almost laughed in your face, and he did laugh, it just didn’t come out the way he wanted it to. It just came out as an incredulous laugh.

“You haven’t understood it, have you?” He looked around, biting the inside of his cheek again. “There was never an us! We, what we had, never existed. We just hooked up.”

It hit you like a thousand bricks. “What do you mean?” You asked, stuttering. He didn’t even answer, he just looked down at his shoes.

The silence was deafening.

So it meant nothing? Like, nothing at all? Those two months, the festival weekend?

It was everything to you.

Maybe it had been so much to call it a summer love. Or too little to say ‘us’.

“So you weren’t mine?” You stuttered, looking at him as you held back tears. “The memories. The bottles of wine. The twisted sheets. That wasn’t—?”

“Of course not! Are you stupid?” He interrupted you, his words harsher than intended. He rubbed his face and ran his hand through his hair. “Look, you’re nice. You live with the hope of it all, alright? That’s good.”

You wanted to cry your eyes out at that very moment.

“But it was never serious between us, alright? I’m with another girl. She’s mine, I’m hers, not yours. As simple as that. Just— don’t call, don’t text. And don’t make these scenes again. I’m sorry.”

His apology was half-assed, you wanted to smack or slap him hard enough to make him respect you. But you were shaking. You didn’t understand. What? He looked so in love. The way he stared at you. It was all fake.

But what he said was true.

You lived for the hope of it all.

He was never yours to begin with.

He wasn’t yours to lose. No.

ok so boom this is my gf

I NEEDDD

my flag finally came in today…what do we think?

Me, getting distracted for a moment in just in smut and now I don't know what position they are in: