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pbaz7 · 3 days ago

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AGAINST THE TIDE: PART ELEVEN

paige x azzi

word count: 5.5k

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this chapter, today felt fake and life can’t be real😭. I just need to have a lil crash out and I’ll work on making the next chapter better lol. Let me know what you think please and I hope everyone has/had a great day :)

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January 2023

The library wasn’t their usual hangout spot, and for good reason. The last time they’d been here, a fan had spilled Paige’s Shirley Temple all over her book in an overly enthusiastic attempt to get a picture Paige had agreed to. But Paige and Azzi had no other choice today. They’ve been “catching up” with each other quite often— in Paige’s room, in Azzi’s, and even the living room a few times—and they realized they weren’t getting anything productive done and they had a lot to do. So the library was their last resort: a public space where they really had no choice but to not touch each other.

Azzi sat across from Paige, grumbling at her math homework. "Why do I need to do math for a communications degree?" she muttered, glaring at the numbers on her paper as if they’d personally wronged her.

Paige laughed softly, reaching over to take the paper from her. “Lemme see baby.” She skimmed it, already recognizing the concepts—it was the same class she’d taken last semester. Without a word, Paige grabbed her pencil and jotted down some notes in the margins, showing Azzi an easier way to solve the problems.

Handing the paper back, Paige teased, “You’re lucky I love you or I’d charge a pretty penny.”

Azzi grinned, a soft "Thank you, baby," slipping out as she leaned back in her chair. Paige just winked, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk before returning her focus to her paper.

The two worked in silence, the scratch of Azzi’s pen and Paige’s typing mixed with the distant hum of whispered conversations were the only sounds between them. Azzi, always needing some kind of contact, lightly tapped her foot against Paige’s under the table. Paige didn’t look up, but a small smile tugged at her lips as she nudged Azzi’s foot back, indulging her.

They were so engrossed in their work that neither noticed someone approaching until a voice broke the quiet.

“Hi, Azzi!”

Paige looked up, her brows knitting in mild confusion at the sight of a girl she didn’t recognize. Azzi, however, smiled in recognition.

“Oh my God, hey! It’s nice to see you outside of class,” Azzi said warmly. She gestured between them. “Paige, this is Elle—she’s in a couple of my classes. Elle, this is Paige.”

Before Paige could say a polite “Nice to meet you,” Elle let out a laugh, shaking her head. “I know who she is, Az. It’s kind of hard not to know who Paige Bueckers is on this campus.”

Paige chuckled, though the comment made her cringe a little inside. She always hated when people did that. Meeting someone and knowing of them were completely different in her mind. Still, she managed a smile, keeping it light. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

Azzi quickly looked between them, having heard Paige ramble about people doing that to her more than once before. Once she realized Paige was fine she turned her attention back to Elle who was chatting about their class. Paige shifted her focus back to her paper, letting Azzi carry the conversation, her foot still brushing against Paige’s under the table as she worked.

At some point, Elle had slid into the seat next to Azzi, the two of them catching up on class and tossing around ideas for a project they had agreed to work on together after Elle asked. Paige stayed quiet, her focus seemingly glued to her laptop as she worked on her paper. But she couldn’t help noticing the way Elle leaned in a little too much, her gaze lingering on Azzi when she thought no one was looking.

Paige didn’t say anything—she wasn’t worried in the slightest. Azzi was hers, and she knew it. Still, she made a mental note of Elle’s overly enthusiastic demeanor, keeping it there for later just in case.

Eventually, their conversation faded, and the table fell into a quiet rhythm. Elle was scribbling in a notebook, Azzi flipping through her math notes, and Paige’s fingers tapped steadily on her keyboard. The library’s soft hum of whispers filled the silence between them, broken only by the occasional shuffle of papers.

It wasn’t until Paige felt a familiar brush of Azzi’s leg against hers under the table that she glanced up. Azzi was already looking at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Paige couldn’t help but grin back, warmth spreading through her chest.

Lifting her hand from the keyboard, Paige tapped her finger on the table three times—a silent “I love you.”

Azzi’s cheeks flushed pink, her eyes darting back down to her notes as she quickly gathered herself. She stole a glance at Elle, who seemed oblivious to the exchange, and let out a quiet breath.

Paige, clearly amused, went back to her paper, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips at getting the reaction from Azzi.

…

As the clock crept closer to the library’s closing time, Paige closed her laptop with a soft thud, stretching her arms over her head. “Alright,” she said, glancing at Azzi. “Az you almost ready, I’m done for the night.”

Azzi nodded, letting out a quiet sigh as she began organizing her notes. “Yeah, same. My brain’s fried.”

Elle looked up from her notebook, her gaze flicking between them. “Heading out already?” she asked, her tone light but with a hint of disappointment.

“Yeah,” Paige replied, sliding her notebooks into her bag. “We have an early morning practice tomorrow.”

Azzi added, “And I’m pretty sure I’ve maxed out my tolerance for math tonight.” She gestured to her notes with a dramatic groan.

Elle chuckled. “If you ever need help with it, Azzi, let me know. I know he can be tough—I’d be happy to go over things with you so we can figure it out together. Maybe make it less painful.”

Azzi shook her head, laughing softly. “Thanks, but I’m good for now. Paige already helped me out. She’s like my personal mini Isaac Newton.”

Paige laughed at the comparison, adjusting the strap of her bag. Elle’s eyes flicked toward her, curious. “Wait, you understand this professor? How?”

Paige gave a polite smile. “I took him last semester. He’s not as bad once you figure out his style.”

Elle tilted her head, intrigued. “Ah ok. Are you in communications too?”

Paige shook her head. “Nah, human development and family sciences.”

Elle blinked, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “Oh wow. I wouldn’t have guessed that. I mean… you’re so busy with basketball, I didn’t think you’d have time for something so... strenuous.”

There was a pause at her tone, but Paige’s smile didn’t drop. “I make it work,” she said simply, her tone even but firm.

Azzi, noticing the subtle tension, broke in with a grin. “She’s being modest.”

Paige gave her a look, but her lips twitched with amusement. “Don’t start big head.”

Elle laughed lightly, though her attention lingered on Paige a moment longer. “Well, that’s impressive,” she said, her tone softer now. “Good for you.”

Paige nodded. “Thanks.”

As the conversation ebbed, Elle turned her attention back to Azzi, her tone a little more animated. “By the way, I meant to tell you—your presentation last week? It was really good. Like, you made everything sound so clear and relatable. I was kind of jealous.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I stumbled through half of it.”

“No way,” Elle insisted. “You were amazing. Honestly, I wish I had even half your confidence when I’m up there.”

Paige watched the exchange quietly, her expression unreadable as she scrolled on her phone waiting for Azzi.

Azzi shrugged modestly. “Appreciate it, but it’s all practice. I’m a little lucky with getting the extra practice from interviews. You’ll get there though.”

As they gathered the last of their things, Elle leaned slightly toward Azzi, her voice dropping just enough to seem more personal. “Seriously, though, if you ever want to practice a presentation or go over the project, just text me. I’d love to help out—or just hang out, you know.”

Paige’s brow twitched, but she remained silent, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Azzi smiled, brushing it off with her usual ease. “Will do. Thanks, Elle.”

As they started walking toward the exit, Elle called after them with a warm smile, her gaze lingering on Azzi. “Goodnight! Azzi, don’t forget—I’m just a text away.”

Azzi turned, waving casually. “Got it. See you in class.”

…

About a week later they found themselves back in the library. This time because Azzi needed to work on her project with Elle and the team made it a point to not have people they didn’t know that well know where their rooms were. Paige had begrudgingly agreed to tag along after Azzi made her turn off the game. Ice, who had been playing the game with Paige and someone who was always up for people-watching and a chance to bother Paige, came along too, settling next to Paige at the table.

Azzi and Elle sat on the opposite side, laptops open and papers spread out between them as they hashed out the finer details of their project. Paige had her own laptop propped up, supposedly working on a presentation, but her focus wavered as her attention drifted to the other pair.

It didn’t escape Paige how Elle seemed to hang on to every word Azzi said, nodding eagerly, her expression animated. And while Paige tried to ignore it, she couldn’t help but notice how Elle’s chair seemed to have mysteriously scooted a couple of inches closer to Azzi since they’d sat down.

A buzz from her phone interrupted her thoughts. Picking it up, Paige saw a text from Ice, who was smirking faintly next to her.

Icy ❄️: She’s eager.

Paige but back a laugh as she typed a reply.

P Boogers ⛹🏼‍♀️: So I’m not crazy?

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Icy ❄️: If she leans in any closer, she’s falling in Azzi’s lap

Paige let out a quiet snort, her shoulders shaking slightly as she glanced up at Ice. The two exchanged amused looks before Ice added another text.

Icy ❄️: Lowkey feel like we intruding on her plans

That one made Paige laugh under her breath, though she quickly covered it with a cough, glancing down at her screen to hide her amusement.

Azzi, picking up on the movement and muffled sounds, glanced up from her notes. Her brow furrowed in curiosity as she looked between Paige and Ice. “What’s so funny?” she asked, tilting her head.

Paige gave her an innocent look, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing,” she said smoothly, but the slight twitch of her lips betrayed her.

Azzi narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Mhm. Sure.”

Paige just shot her a knowing look that said, I’ll tell you later, before going back to typing on her laptop.

Meanwhile, Elle, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, leaned a little closer to Azzi, pointing at something on the screen. “So, for this part, we could either expand on the point or keep it short. What do you think?”

Azzi considered it for a moment before responding, her tone thoughtful. “I think we should keep it short. Too much detail might make it confusing.”

Elle nodded enthusiastically. “That makes sense. You’re really good at simplifying things. Honestly, I’d be lost without you right now.”

Ice and Paige exchanged another glance, Ice raising an eyebrow as if to say, See what I mean? Paige’s lips twitched in amusement, but she said nothing, focusing instead on her work.

As the day wore on, the dynamic remained the same—Elle constantly seeking Azzi’s input, Paige silently observing, and Ice sneaking occasional texts that kept Paige entertained.

The library was quieter than usual today. Paige had her glasses, that Azzi thankfully grabbed for her, perched on her nose as she typed away on her laptop with her iPad propped up silently playing an NBA game. Next to her Ice scrolled through her phone, occasionally tapping away at her own work. Azzi and Elle, were still engrossed in their project, their heads bent close together over Azzi’s laptop.

The steady rhythm of their work was interrupted when a young woman approached the table nervously. “I’m so sorry to bother you while you’re working,” she said timidly, her eyes flicking to Paige. “But could I get a picture with you?”

Paige looked up, blinking behind her glasses before offering a warm smile. “No, it’s okay. Of course.” She took off her glasses, setting them on the table, and pushed her chair back slightly to make room.

The girl quickly leaned in, snapping a selfie with Paige, her excitement clear. “Thank you so much,” she said breathlessly, clutching her phone like a treasure. “And I’m sorry for bothering you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Paige replied easily, giving her a quick smile. “Have a good day.”

As the girl walked away, Paige casually slipped her glasses back on and resumed typing as if nothing had happened. Ice didn’t look up from her phone, and Azzi returned her attention to her laptop. Elle, however, was looking at Paige with thinly veiled curiosity.

“Isn’t that a little weird?” Elle finally asked, breaking the silence.

Paige raised an eyebrow, looking at her. “What’s weird?”

“People just… walking up to you like that,” Elle said, gesturing vaguely. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

Paige shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Not really. I’ll always make time for people who support me.”

Elle tilted her head, her curiosity not quite satisfied. “Your girlfriend doesn’t get jealous?”

At this, Paige froze, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Ice’s head snapped up, and Azzi’s shoulders stiffened slightly. A brief silence fell over the table as Paige stared at Elle, confused.

“What?” Paige asked, her tone guarded.

Elle pointed at Paige’s neck, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “Your neck. There’s, um… a lot going on there.”

Realization dawned on Paige, and hand’s moving to adjust her hoodie to cover the faint marks Azzi had left a little too high this time around. Her cheeks tinged pink, but she quickly covered it with a chuckle. “Oh. Guess she got a little overzealous,” as she shoots a brief glare at Azzi.

Azzi’s lips twitched, clearly amused, while Ice smirked knowingly, leaning back in her chair to watch the interaction unfold.

Paige cleared her throat, still adjusting her hoodie. “Why’d you assume it’s a girl?” she asked, glancing at Elle with a curious expression.

Elle shrugged, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. You just… give off those vibes.”

Ice snickered at this, covering her mouth with her hand as Paige shot her a quick glare. Azzi raised an eyebrow, looking more entertained than anything.

Paige chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. “Uh, thanks, I guess?” she muttered before clearing her throat. “But, um, no, to answer your question... she doesn’t mind.”

Elle looked surprised at Paige’s admission, but her curiosity only deepened. “Really? She’s cool with random people coming up to you all the time? A lot of them probably have crushes.”

Paige’s expression softened slightly, a small smile playing at her lips. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quieter now. “She understands what it’s like.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, carrying a weight that Elle didn’t fully grasp. Azzi glanced at Paige, her features relaxing into a fond smile that she quickly masked by looking down at her notebook.

Ice, however, noticed and smirked again, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Yeah, I bet she really understands,” Ice muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Paige to hear.

Paige shot her another quick glare but couldn’t fight the grin tugging at her lips. “Mind your business,” she mumbled, turning her focus back to her laptop.

Elle smirked slightly but didn’t press further, turning her attention to Azzi instead. “So, Azzi, are you single?”

Azzi, caught off guard, coughed slightly, shifting in her seat and simultaneously adjusting her hoodie just in case. “No, I’m not,” she said, her voice calm.

Elle blinked, visibly surprised. “Oh, wow. Really? You’ve never mentioned him before.”

Azzi’s lips quirked in a subtle smile as she corrected, “Her.” She glanced at Paige briefly before adding, “And we’re just private people.”

Paige couldn’t stop the small snicker that escaped her lips, amused by Azzi’s excuse. Without missing a beat, Azzi’s foot shot out under the table, connecting lightly with Paige’s shin. Paige bit the inside of her cheek to keep her reaction in check, keeping her gaze fixed on her laptop as if nothing had happened.

Elle tilted her head, her surprise growing at Azzi’s correction. “Oh, I didn’t know you were gay.”

Paige’s jaw immediately tightened at the comment, her fingers pausing over her keyboard. She glanced at Elle, a faint glare flickering in her eyes, but she bit her tongue, waiting to see how Azzi would respond considering Elle was her friend.

Azzi, however, remained composed, her expression calm. “Yeah, I am,” she replied simply, the edge of a confident smile playing on her lips.

Paige’s tension eased slightly at Azzi’s response, but she couldn’t resist shooting Elle one more look before returning her attention to her laptop. Under the table, Azzi’s foot lightly nudged Paige’s again, softer this time, a silent reminder to let it go. Paige exhaled, her irritation fading as she refocused on her screen knowing Azzi was fine.

Elle hesitated, clearly trying to mask her disappointment at Azzi having a girlfriend before nodding. “Oh, that’s cool. But yeah private is good. I totally get it.”

Ice barely suppressed a grin as she glanced between them, but Paige remained focused on her work, her expression unreadable. Azzi, meanwhile, busied herself with her screen, though Paige caught the faint pink tint on her ears, a detail that made her smile to herself.

The group settled back into a rhythm of quiet productivity, but Paige couldn’t help stealing occasional glances at Azzi and Elle. Azzi seemed fully absorbed in her project, her brow furrowed in that cute way Paige loves, as she scrolled through a document while Elle leaned closer than necessary, pointing something out on the screen.

She stole another glance at Azzi, who was now leaning back in her chair, looking at Elle with a little bewilderment.

“You’re sure this part makes sense?” Elle asked, her tone unusually sweet. “I feel like I’m overthinking it.”

Azzi shrugged. “It looks fine to me.”

“But what if—”

“It’s fine, Elle,” Azzi cut her off with a light laugh, leaning forward to tap the screen. “Seriously, stop stressing. This part’s solid.”

Elle relaxed a little, her shoulders dropping as she smiled back. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Paige’s grip on her pen tightened slightly now, growing a little tired of Elle throwing herself at her girlfriend. She exchanged another look with Ice, who snorted quietly at Paige’s irritation.

Before the tension could linger, Ice leaned forward, tapping the table with her knuckle. “Hey, Azzi, you about done? Paige and I were thinking of grabbing food after this.”

Azzi glanced at Paige, who was still focused on her laptop. “Yeah, I’m almost ready. Give me a sec.”

Elle looked between them, her smile faltering slightly. “Oh, you’re all going together?”

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. we probably don’t have an ounce of food in our rooms right now.”

“Sounds fun,” Elle said, her tone light but her eyes lingering on Azzi a moment too long.

About five minutes later Azzi zipped up her bag, organizing the last of her notes as Paige stood up from her seat. Paige’s eyes landed on Azzi’s phone sitting on the table. Remembering something the younger girl was hiding, she reached for it, her fingers unlocking it with practiced ease.

Elle looked up from her own computer, eyebrows raising slightly. She expected some sort of protest from Azzi, but none came. Azzi didn’t even glance up, completely unfazed as Paige casually scrolled through her phone.

“Hmm,” Paige muttered to herself, tilting the phone slightly away from wandering eyes before walking around the table to Azzi’s side. She stopped just behind her, holding the screen in front of Azzi. “What’s this for?”

Azzi glanced at the phone, her lips curving into a faint smile. “You weren’t supposed to see that yet.”

Paige leaned down slightly, her voice dropping into a soft whisper, just low enough that Elle couldn’t hear. “Too late now. I like it a lot, though.”

Azzi’s body instinctively leaned back into Paige as she whispered something back to her. Her movement wasn’t much—just the smallest shift—but it was enough to make her posture relax, as if her body naturally sought Paige’s presence.

Elle’s eyes flicked between the two of them watching the subtle exchange, her brows furrowing slightly. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the way her jaw tightened didn’t go unnoticed by Ice, who stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Paige chuckled softly, straightening up and handing the phone back to Azzi. “I look forward to it.”

Azzi tilted her head, giving Paige a small smile. “Mm I’m sure you do.”

Elle cleared her throat, the sound making both Paige and Azzi glance her way.

“You guys are close,” Elle said, her tone light but tinged with something else.

Ice coughed, failing to hide her snicker.

Paige smiled politely, tucking her hands into her pockets. “Yeah, she’s like my best friend.”

Azzi didn’t add anything, instead focusing on grabbing her bag.

After bidding goodbye, the three of them headed toward the door, leaving Elle at the table as she worked on something else.

…

Later that night, Paige and Azzi were tangled together on Paige’s bed, the room dimly lit by her led lights. Paige hovered over Azzi, her lips brushing against hers before she nipped playfully at Azzi’s bottom lip.

“Ow,” Azzi laughed softly, pulling back just enough to pout at her. “That one actually hurt.”

Paige smirked, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, come on, you’re fine.” She leaned down to kiss her softly, the pout on Azzi’s face melting away almost immediately.

Azzi deepened the kiss, her hands sliding up Paige’s sides, drawing a quiet sigh from her. Paige pulled away slightly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she murmured with a chuckle, “You’re such a hornball.”

Azzi grinned, her fingers tugging lightly at the hem of Paige’s shirt. “Can you blame me?”

Paige laughed, sitting back and pulling her shirt off in one smooth motion. Azzi’s eyes immediately landed on the marks she’d left across Paige’s collarbone and shoulders earlier.

“You got me caught up earlier” Paige teased, leaning back down to kiss Azzi again.

Azzi didn’t respond with words, just a satisfied hum as her hands slid into Paige’s hair, undoing her bun.

The soft buzz of Azzi’s phone on the nightstand interrupted them. Azzi ignored it, her focus entirely on Paige, until the buzzing sounded again, twice in quick succession.

“Popular tonight,” Paige muttered against her lips, but Azzi just shook her head, pulling her closer.

Then the phone started ringing.

Paige sighed and pulled back, reaching over to grab the phone from the nightstand. Azzi groaned, her head falling back against the pillow.

“What?” she grumbled, not even bothering to look as Paige’s fingers swiped across the screen looking at the three messages prior to the call .

Paige raised an eyebrow at all the messages and the call. “Elle,” she said, turning the screen toward Azzi.

Azzi’s eyes opened, her brows furrowing slightly. “Seriously?” she muttered, reaching out for the phone, but Paige pulled it back out of her reach.

“Should I answer it?” Paige asked, a teasing smile on her face, already knowing the answer.

“No, give it to me,” Azzi said, sitting up slightly and reaching for it again, but Paige held firm, her grin widening.

Without waiting for a response, Paige answered the call, putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

There was a brief pause on the other end before Elle’s voice came through, hesitant but upbeat. “Um… Azzi?”

Paige smirked, holding the phone just out of Azzi’s reach for a moment. “Yeah she’s right here one sec,” she said into the receiver, handing it off to Azzi with an innocent smile that Azzi didn’t trust for a second.

Azzi sighed, taking the phone and pressing it to her ear. “Hey, Elle. What’s up?” she asked, forcing her voice to sound casual.

“Oh hey! I just wanted to check if you’ve had a chance to go over the notes I sent over after you left,” Elle said brightly.

“Uh… not yet,” Azzi replied, her voice steady, though her gaze flickered to Paige, who was leaning closer with a grin. “I’ve been… busy.”

Paige leaned back on her elbow for a moment, watching her, but then she leaned forward again, her lips brushing softly against the curve of Azzi’s neck. Azzi’s shoulders tensed as she sent Paige a sharp look, mouthing, Don’t start.

“Oh, no worries,” Elle said cheerfully. “I just thought it might help if we went through them together? Maybe tomorrow after class?”

“Yeah, um… that could work,” Azzi said, her voice faltering slightly as Paige pressed a kiss to her neck, this time lingering. Azzi’s free hand pushed weakly at her shoulder, but Paige didn’t budge, her lips curling into a smirk against Azzi’s skin.

“Great!” Elle continued, completely unaware. “Do you want to meet at the library again? Or maybe somewhere quieter where we won’t get distracted? There’s this pretty private coffee shop I know about.”

Azzi’s grip tightened on the phone as Paige began trailing kisses down her neck, her warm breath sending shivers down Azzi’s spine. “Uh… the library’s fine,” Azzi managed to get out, her voice strained.

“Okay, cool that’s fine! Oh, and by the way,” Elle added, her tone turning slightly sheepish, “I actually wanted to ask you about that third slide. I’m not sure I totally understood the point you were making.”

Azzi groaned softly—not at Elle’s question, but at Paige’s lips finding a particularly sensitive spot. She tried to compose herself. “The third slide?” she repeated, her voice higher than normal.

“Yeah, the one about media convergence. Like, how does that tie back to our overall thesis?” Elle asked, her enthusiasm completely at odds with Azzi’s internal panic.

“Um… well,” Azzi started, her words fumbling as Paige smiled against her skin at her struggling. Paige leaned back just enough to whisper, “You’re doing great,” before moving to another spot, this time lightly nipping. Azzi let out a sharp breath and had to clamp her mouth shut to stop any further noise from slipping out.

“I, uh…” Azzi struggled to focus. “It’s about… the integration of different media platforms. Like—um—it shows how, uh, traditional and digital media can…”

Paige’s quiet laugh at Azzi’s stumbling didn’t help. Azzi sent her a pleading look, but Paige just raised her eyebrows as if to say, Don’t mind me.

“That makes sense!” Elle said, completely oblivious. “But do you think we should include more recent examples, like TikTok trends or streaming platforms? Or is that too specific?”

“Sure,” Azzi said quickly, squeezing her eyes shut as Paige sucked hard above her collarbone, barely registering the question. “Whatever you think works is fine.”

“Okay, cool! I’ll jot that down,” Elle replied. “So, do you think we could finalize that section tomorrow? I feel like if we can tighten it up, the rest of the presentation will fall into place.”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi said, nodding absentmindedly, her resolve crumbling as Paige continued to suck gently on her neck, making her breath hitch time and time again. She bit her lip hard, trying to keep her composure as Paige started trailing further down her chest.

“Oh! And about the intro slide—” Elle started, but Azzi couldn’t take it anymore as Paige tilted her head to the side for more access.

“Elle,” she interrupted, her tone a little sharper than intended. “Let’s… uh… finalize everything tomorrow, okay? I’ll take a look at the notes before we meet, I promise.”

There was a brief pause. “Oh, yeah, of course! Sorry if I’m keeping you from something you sound busy,” Elle said, her tone apologetic now.

Azzi huffed softly, glancing at Paige, who was smirking triumphantly. “It’s fine,” Azzi said quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, sounds good! Have a good night!” Elle chirped.

“You too,” Azzi replied before ending the call and tossing the phone onto the bed.

Azzi turned to Paige, her cheeks flushed. “You’re on timeout,” she said firmly, though the hint of her smile betrayed her.

Paige leaned back on her elbows, completely unrepentant. “What? I was just keeping myself entertained while my girl was busy,” she said, her grin widening.

Azzi groaned, running a hand through her hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Elle seems to think you are too.”

Azzi’s head snapped toward Paige, frowning. “What? No, she doesn’t,” she said, crossing her arms defensively.

Paige snorted, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, okay. She’s just super friendly, right? Sure.”

“She is just friendly,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes. “That’s just her personality.”

Paige tilted her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “Mmm. I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure she has a little crush on you.”

Azzi huffed, but the faintest hint of pink crept up her neck at herself, possibly being oblivious. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh, I’m imagining things?” Paige asked. “She doesn’t light up every time you talk? Or scoot her chair closer? Practically trip over herself to help you?”

Azzi hesitated, and Paige continued. “See? You know I’m right.”

“She’s just… enthusiastic,” Azzi muttered, though her tone wasn’t as confident as before.

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Okay, how about this then? Let’s make a bet.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “A bet? About what?”

Paige leaned back against the headboard, her smirk growing. “Simple. I bet Elle tries something tomorrow when you meet up.”

Azzi groaned, grabbing a pillow. “Paige, she’s not going to try anything. I told her I have a girlfriend.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. “Yeah, because that always stops people who are already crushing hard.”

Azzi let out a laugh, tossing the pillow at Paige. “You’re so full of it. Fine. What are we betting?”

Paige smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Alright, if I’m right, you gotta let me put her in her place.”

Azzi groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Paige, no.”

“What?” Paige said, laughing. “I’m not saying I’ll be mean. Just, you know, a little something to make it clear who you belong to.”

Azzi shook her head, though she couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re annoying.”

“I’m hilarious,” Paige corrected, leaning back smugly. “Come on, it’ll be harmless. I swear I won’t be over the top.”

Azzi sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous. Fine. But what happens if I win?”

Paige shrugged casually. “I don’t know. You can pick.”

Azzi’s gaze shifted toward the closet, her expression turning mischievous.

Paige immediately sat up, narrowing her eyes. “Hell no.”

Azzi pouted dramatically, clasping her hands together like she was begging. “You’re no fun.”

“That’s never happening Az and you know it,” Paige said firmly, crossing her arms.

“Fine,” Azzi said, sighing as though greatly inconvenienced. “If I win, you’re doing the dishes for a week. And laundry.”

Paige groaned, throwing herself back onto the bed. “Why do your bets always come with chores?”

“Because I’m practical,” Azzi said, grinning as she lay down beside her. “And because I know you’ll lose.”

Paige turned her head, giving Azzi a playful glare. “We’ll see about that.”

Azzi laughed softly, shaking her head. “Alright, deal.”

Paige held out her pinky. “Pinky swear?”

Azzi rolled her eyes but hooked her pinky with Paige’s anyway. “You’re so weird.”

“I love you too,” Paige said, her grin widening.

Azzi rolled her eyes, though the fond smile on her lips betrayed her. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore,” she said, her voice softening as she moved to climb onto Paige’s lap, straddling her with ease.

Paige’s breath hitched slightly, her hands instinctively finding Azzi’s hips. She tilted her head back, her lips curving into a smirk. “Mmm,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing lightly over Azzi’s sides. “What do you wanna talk about then?”

Azzi leaned down, her hands bracing on either side of Paige’s head as her lips hovered just above hers. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she whispered, “I don’t really want to talk.”

Paige’s smirk deepened, her grip on Azzi’s hips tightening slightly. “Good,” she said, her voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “Talking’s overrated.”

Azzi chuckled softly before closing the gap between them, her lips pressing against Paige’s with a slow, deliberate intensity. Paige responded immediately, her hands sliding up Azzi’s sides and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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maythedreadwolftakeyou · 3 days ago

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thinking about Lucanis again (always). and how so much of his narrative boils down to the theme of "control". and of course also about how this applies to the Rook x Lucanis relationship.

like the first scenes with him in the game are, in theory, about freeing him from the Ossuary (although he seems to have an escape attempt already in progress at the time, they certainly weren't just letting him keep those knives on him for enrichment purposes, Rook just provided an opening/distraction he could take advantage of and crucially Rook has A Way Out of the whole place not just a cell). but ACTUALLY the purpose it to put him right into a new contract for Us, one set up by his own grandmother and first talon no less, and the person he has the MOST trouble saying no to. He's escaped torture and the Venatori for sure but he still isn't free, which I think is part of what leads to Spite's confusion/the Inner Demons plotline. He agrees to the contract but you can tell it's in many parts out of a sense of duty/mourning vs something he actively wants to do for himself. And then the FIRST real heartfelt conversation you have with him, where he tells you "even before I was captured, my life was not really my own. So much had been determined for me." But he's chaffaing at that! He thinks "to live truly is to live fully" and so directly tells you he doesn't think he's lived a life true to himself. He's been constantly smothered by the weight of expectations around him, even though he longs for more.

And then once you get him to the Lighthouse you see how this Big lack of control in his life comes out as all these smaller frustrations. He's terrified of sleeping and downing 11 cups of coffee per hour because sleeping means he will lose control to Spite, even though Spite is shown to flee rather than fight when he feels threatened, and once calmed down, is more drawn to just benign curiosity/mischief than anything actively malicious. Like if Lucanis loses control and sleeps for a few hours he is not going to wake up surrounded by bloodshed, he's going to wake up to a belly full of candle wax because he wouldn't like Spite taste one while they were awake. Which is the other half of this--he constantly denying Spite's impulses for reasons that in some ways make sense (HE doesn't want to eat candles), but not in a way that's actually satisfying to either of them (why not just take a bite, chew for a bit, and spit it out so Spite knows they kind of suck actually?). But he CAN say no to Spite and so he does. Over and over. Spite's one of the few people he can deny things without feeling bad about it, because it's HIS body he doesn't like that has to share now (<- this is what he thinks about it at first anyway, but he's wrong, it's both of theirs and it's useless to try to hold those kind of boundaries forever. but the "no its mine" spiteful instinct is very beautifully ironic and reflective of them both and their early relationship).

And personally I think this is where his fear of his own desires and intimacy is coming from, at the root. I don't think he's afraid of the concept of being in a romance or having feelings (even if they're unusual and rare for him, this is by no means incompatible with him being demi) but I DO think he is afraid of the kind of power it gives people over you. Getting something you want means there's something else that can be taken away. Admitting your desire means the other person has the opportunity to deny that. The more you have, the more you have to lose, and he has lost again and again and again in his life--his parents, his childhood to the crows, his independence, even his future--he doesn't aspire to be first Talon but he knows the rumors. He knows his grandmother wanted it for him, not Illario. His life path has been laid out for him by others and up to this point he has simply been going along with it anyway, even though it bothers him. He COULD argue and fight Caterina and push for Illario who actually wants the job to be First Talon instead, but from The Wigmaker Job we know he doesn't. He just ignores it and pretends maybe it won't happen, without him having to do any of the work. Which is why in the end Illario is the one who has to make a move about it (and even warns Lucanis of this!!!!). Lucanis KNOWS all this makes him a target but is neither taking charge or getting off of the train tracks, just closes his eyes.

And I think THIS context is what makes the almost kiss scene in the pantry make more sense to me. Rather than being afraid of having feelings (and then NEVER addressing this in game with a Rook who pursues him anyway) or not knowing how to finish what he's started via crow seduction training, it's more like this is a pivotal moment where he can actively choose to step off the planned path of be given a job -> kill the gods -> enact revenge -> go home. even if he doesn't at that point realize that a relationship with Rook could be something that lasts long-term, the very act of doing something just for himself is what's foreign and scary and hard. It's that first step off the tracks, and even if he were to keep walking in the same direction, it means he's making a choice about it. he's accepting that one way or another it IS in his power to go along with everyone else's plans or not. Hence the hesitation, and drawing back, and needing to clear his head.

And then the rest of Rook's role in his narrative IS about giving him more and more control for himself. Inner Demons, dealing with Illario, his questlines move less towards revenge and more towards just... not being locked into one fate. Which of course Caterina comes back and immediately tries to overturn by declaring him First Talon after all, even though she and him and everyone else knows she's not ACTUALLY ready to give up her rule/decision making power yet. Which in a way is maddening because cmon I did all this work here so this sad man could have some agency in his own life just to watch him get sucked right back in (which, at least we get many directions to headcanon from here), but there's no denying that THIS version of Lucanis at least is actually going in with his eyes open now. THIS Lucanis has had a taste of life outside the Crows, and seen the politics and power dynamics in other places/organizations, and finally has emotional ties to the big picture state of the world now, both in relationship and friendship paths with Rook. He's not just hyper focused on each contract as it's given to him now, he's looking at the whole thing.

Anyway of course the beautiful culmination of all this within the romance is the lighthouse scene with Rook, where he finally is willing to let himself be vulnerable (emotionally and physically), and fall asleep without fear of what Spite's going to do in the meanwhile. He also (depending on dialogue choice) finally talks about his feelings directly with you for the first time instead of in roundabout ways (the dessert being "not enough" is it really the dessert you mean, Lucanis. is it.). Even though he is STILL reluctant to verbally admit his feelings or let Rook share their own at this point, I think that's more a narrative choice about saving those last emotional dialogue options for the big final battle. but it is another point where he does have to stop just following along and ACTIVELY choose that yes, yes sometimes loving is worth the risk of losing it. Even if someone takes it away from you later, even if you don't survive it, sometimes the love alone makes it worth it.

I have like another 5000 words I could add into about how Spite ties into all this, about how having the demon in him is something he both fears AND how it forces him to acknowledge that actually yes he DOES share the same base feelings/instincts Spite does in terms of not wanting to be told what to do. And how this in a way is part of what gives him permission to act on it since he can no longer just shove it down out of sight. but this post is long enough already so i'm just going to take the rest of this and gnaw on it all day like a chew toy I guess.

anyway. AHG. it is kind of frustrating that the culmination of his arc seems to be "and then he got the job he never wanted anyway" but I do think at least all this prepares him for it in a way Caterina actively failed to actually do on her own. He NEEDED that step away from his straightforward path. Whether he stays first talon or not, and with or without rook as a romantic partner, he's finally been able to explore ideas outside the expectations of others.

#AND THEN of course how the whole control theme applies in terms of sex lmao. that man needs to be gently topped/dommed soooo bad #so much internalized shame and fear and he just wants someone who will see it & love him anyway #very much on theme to resent a thing (control) in everyday spaces but desire the inverse in the bedroom/forbidden spaces as a way to explor #it safely etc etc etc. fear of losing control vs desire to submit plus all the torture stuff mixed up in there oooohhh what a mess #themes of resistance etc etc You Get Me or you think im insane either is fine. anyway #dragon age: veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard #lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #rook x lucanis #rookanis #spite dellamorte #lucanisposting #datv spoilers #da4 spoilers #ramblings #dragon age #need to rip a pillow into shreds or somethign AHG im pacing around too fulll of Lucanis Thoughts this early in the day #this is usually a 3am hobby but im 12 hours early #but i think finally this is some watsonian reasoning that makes me more chill about the doyalist failures i have with the writing for him #this may be incomprehensible i did Not proofread it #jade plays dav #juniper x lucanis

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baepsays · 3 days ago

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saw something about stoner suguru mention so let me draw a picture here using my own two cents (and experience, rayray hearts weed)

stoner!suguru who at first was very opposed to the concept of weed, he used to be one of those cigarettes and cigars and whatnot over weed type of snob. then he met his partner who on surface level doesn't look like it but gets high on almost daily.

first time he tries weed with his partner he gets really giggly and touchy and it wasn't that long into your relationship so you guys hadn't even said I love you's yet, but poor thing high off his ass off of only 2 puffs from a single joint, just blurts out how much he's down right pathetically in love with you that he's willing to even try weed for you.

this turns into a heavy make out session with you just at first kissing softly, sitting beside eachother, passing the same blunt—to tangling your fingers in his loose locks and getting on top of him, barely hovering over his lap, one of his hands on your ass the other pulling you somehow closer and deeper by your throat. eventually he just pulls your ass (literally) on his lap, the hand on the ass now groping and kneading, another roams around your waist until it goes up your shirt and just starts rubbing circles around your back.

and when you think oh i know where this is going ~ well, he passes out then and there on the floor of the balcony where you guys were smoking, with a huge grin on his face and his hair a mess, sprawled around his head.

Next day he barely remembered anything and said oh well he wouldn't want to do that again (even if it felt really good). but still gets high with you when he comes over to your place that week and again just confesses his undying love for you with a dopey grin and rips his hair tie off his hair then throws it away from the balcony. his reason being that he'd rather have you keep his hair in place by pulling on it. and starts talking about this new kind of tea he found which reminds him of your perfume and how he is actually always thinking about how he wants to just bite you and leave marks all over when he's sometimes spacing off and you ask him what was he thinking about so hard. more than half of the time it's about wanting to bite you.

he did't know he already said I love you to you while he was high, and how he always starts yapping way more than what he normally does, breaking his cool mysterious guy persona. someone might even say satoru has definately rubbed off on him the way he starts talking about anything and everything, especially related to you maybe even a miniscule detail. when he is high, he usually starts with "you know. I am so disgustingly in love with you. it's insane." after silently exchanging a joint with you and letting the weed get to him. so when you found out accidentally one of these days where he got high and told you about his elaborate plan for a date that Sunday to finally tell you that he loves you, all you did was smile and nod. you told him a month after that date that he actually told you 'I love you' the very first time you guys got high together.

safe to say suguru is a changed man who loves getting high with his partner on their balconies on weekends or on nights after a particularly shitty day where all he needs is to get his mind to shut up and just look at his partner, kiss them silly and touch them all over.

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woozinhos · 3 days ago

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i am obsessed w ur writing lol!!! could you do woozi phone sex ? pls <3

Ooo I’ve never tried this concept hope you enjoy it :D

Woozi is sitting in his studio, surrounded by music sheets and equipment. He's been working on a new track for hours, and he's feeling a bit restless. He glances at his phone, seeing that you've sent him a text. He smiles to himself as he picks up the phone, wondering what you want.

"Hey babe," he says, answering the call. "What's up?"

He can hear the sound of your voice on the other end of the line, and he feels a pang of longing.

"I miss you," you say, and Woozi can't help but smile at your words.

"I miss you too," he replies, his voice soft. "But I have to finish this track."

You pout on the other end of the line, and Woozi chuckles at your response.

"Don't give me that look," he teases. "You know I have to work."

But even as he says the words, he can feel his resolve weakening. He misses you, and the thought of you alone at home is making him restless.

"But I'm lonely," you whine, and Woozi can hear the hint of mischief in your voice.

He knows exactly what you're trying to do, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire.

"Don't start with that," he says, his voice a low growl. "You know I can't resist you when you're like this."

You giggle on the other end of the line, and Woozi can practically see the smirk on your face.

"Oh, I know," you reply, your voice sultry. "I just miss you so much, baby. I need you."

Woozi groans, his mind filling with images of you.

"You're going to be the death of me," he mutters, his hand clenching into a fist.

"I know," you say, your voice dropping to a whisper. "But you love it, don't you? You love the way I make you feel."

Woozi can feel his self-control slipping away, his body responding to your words.

"Yes," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "I do. But I need to focus on this track."

You pout again, and Woozi can almost see the adorable expression on your face.

"But what if I want to focus on something else?" you say, your voice dropping even lower.

Woozi takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he warns, his grip on the phone tightening. "Don't start something you can't finish."

"Oh, I can finish it," you say, your voice filled with confidence. "I just need to get you worked up first."

Woozi lets out a strangled moan, his body responding to your words despite his best efforts to resist.

"You're a menace," he mutters, his hand wandering down to his pants.

"I know," you say, your voice smug. "But you love it. You love when I make you feel good."

Woozi can't deny it. His hand is now rubbing himself through his pants, his mind filled with images of you.

"Fuck," he mutters, his breath coming in short gasps. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Good," you say, your voice dripping with satisfaction. "I want you to think of me. I want you to think of me touching you, making you come."

Woozi groans, his eyes fluttering closed as he imagines your hands on him.

"You're evil," he gasps, his hips bucking up into his hand.

You can hear the sound of his labored breathing over the phone, and you know he's close to the edge.

"That's it," you say, your voice filled with encouragement. "Come for me, baby. Let me hear you."

Woozi's body tenses as he nears his climax, his hand moving faster and faster.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice hoarse. "I'm gonna come."

And then he's coming, his body arching off the chair as he lets out a long, loud moan. He collapses back in the chair, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

"Damn," he mutters, his voice still ragged. "You're incredible."

You laugh softly on the other end of the line, satisfied with the effect you've had on him.

"I know," you say smugly. "You're not so bad yourself, you know."

Woozi chuckles weakly, still trying to recover from his intense orgasm.

"I don't think I'll be able to focus on this track now," he admits, a smile playing on his lips.

You giggle, clearly pleased with yourself.

"Good," you say, your voice playful. "I think you need a break anyway."

Woozi sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I suppose you're right," he admits. "But now I'm just going to be thinking about you the whole time."

"That's the point," you say, your voice low and sultry. "I want you to think about me all the time. I want you to miss me and crave me, even when we're apart."

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen #svt smut #woozi x reader #svt woozi #woozi imagines #woozi smut #woozi scenarios #seventeen woozi #woozi #jihoon smut #jihoon x reader #lee jihoon #seventeen jihoon

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faebled-stories · 3 days ago

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Please Read

Hi lovelies,

I hope you’re all doing well! I wanted to give you a quick little update. So, here’s the tea: I had this whole holiday series planned, I was so excited about it—and I was aiming to release a couple of fics at the start of January.

BUT... this girlie got a little too wild during New Year’s celebrations, and, well... let’s just say I learned the hard way. I ended up spraining my wrist, hitting my head and smashing my phone after falling while (very) drunk…😅 So now, I’m still stuck recovering. (What a great way the start the year huh?)

I’m genuinely so bummed about this because I was really looking forward to bringing these fics to life for you. I had so much fun planning them out. Right now, I’m low-key beating myself up about the delay—it’s frustrating not being able to follow through on something I was so excited to share with you all. 😔

But here’s where you come in: once I’ve recovered, would you still like me to release these fics? Or do you think it’s better to stick a pin in the holiday concepts and move on to new ideas? I value your feedback and want to create content you’ll enjoy, so let me know what you think!

Thank you much for your patience and understanding. You’re honestly the best, and I can’t wait to get back to writing for you all soon!

Sending all my love, Fae 💖

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floralscented · 12 hours ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟔𝟕.ᐟ ˎˊ˗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ───── SEASON ONE, ───── ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ───────── PART THREE ─────────

────────────────────────────────────────────

summary. phi kappa psi throws a party to honor the first cardinal win of the season, and the past sneaks up with a phone call.

ㅤword count ! ㅤㅤ 3.8k ㅤㅤ content warnings ! ㅤㅤ john winchester hate. alcohol mentions. pining? taylor king! sam! ㅤㅤ track the season !

starting quarterback; two words that dean hadn't expected to hear in the starts of his freshman year. but suddenly, there he was, sat on one of the locker room benches, as coach greene gripped him by the faceguard of his helmet and shouted them in his face.

along with a few less nice words. idiot, he'd exclaimed, though without the biting, flippant tones that usually came along with his father's insults, i give you a play, you do the play! that's how football works! teamwork!

dean wasn't used to being on a team. he wasn't used to being anything besides a lone wolf, scampering through the woods to kill the bad guys with nothing but a blade for company.

he'd work on it.

"you have to trust me, too!" he'd said back to the coach, and had to resist the urge to physically wince when he did. standing his ground was engrained in who he was; even when john winchester tried to beat it out of him, it still rang true.

coach greene, though, simply stood toe to toe with dean, towering over him only now in this instance where dean was sat down and bent over himself. "alright, kid." his palm was heavy when it patted dean's shoulder. "you and i are going t'have to get t'know each other real quick this season."

and that was it. there was no scolding for speaking out of line, and certainly no other disappointment than what dean caused by stepping out of the team's trust and calling his own shots. this was how teams were supposed to work, he realized; not one person dictating everything, but a perfect harmony.

huh.

taylor king was less humble about the winnings. dean had barely pulled a pair of sweatpants on before he was being dragged by a larger hand toward the locker room's door. "whoa, whoa, wh─"

"frat party," he says in answer, giving dean a good shake by the grip on his bare shoulder, "in your honor."

dean snags his hoodie out of his locker with a strangled noise, too far away to get to shut it. at least he'd left his dagger at home, after weighing the options a couple of times. how would he explain a knife in his locker to people whose biggest concerns were if the moon landing was faked?

"i didn't ask the frat to do that."

taylor snorts, ruffling up dean's hair with his fingers. "so, you save the game, steal a w for the team, and you expect to go back to your room and, what, mope? sleep?"

dean's shoulders lift in a shrug. "why is that unreasonable?"

"i'm so damn excited to corrupt you."

truthfully, dean didn't need corrupting. his head was already a little messed up from all of the shit he'd seen at his ripe age of too young, and not to mention that parties after games weren't exactly a new concept to him, either. once he buckled down and got serious about wanting to get out of kansas, he stopped fussing over invites and started to actually study.

he liked it a lot that the image he presented so far at stanford was nothing like how he used to be, and what he would have become. dean must have been doing something right, even if it meant letting his friend think he was introducing him to the more fun sides of college.

"is this the frat that you've been kissing the ass of since the bonfire?" dean asks, conceding to taylor's physical pushing. he breaks free from his grip enough to slide the hoodie over his shoulders.

taylor's answering cackle is confirmation enough, but he never misses a chance to run his mouth. "yes, bro. phi kappa psi." he circles around dean to pat his hands down on his shoulders. "i'd kiss 'em all on the mouth if they asked."

"i'm sure they wouldn't."

"cameron wyatt's in there, you know?" taylor hums, his fingers drumming on the sliver of skin peeking free from dean's hoodie. "m'sure he'd love someone to kiss him better after his accident."

dean balks for a second, and then squeezes his lips shut. too many things to unpack at once. "i'm sure," he repeats, picking one of the slew of comments to address, "he's gonna have a couple of cheerleaders licking his wounds for him. and that you don't have to kiss them to get selected? taylor."

taylor laughs aloud. "yeah. sorry. had a little wine 'fore i snuck back in here to get your ass."

dean can't help his laughter, either. it's so ridiculous of a conversation that he almost relaxes into it. but something else nags at him. "you think wyatt's gonna be out of the hospital tonight?"

taylor gives dean a last slap on the shoulder before moving to walk beside him. they pass officials and crew and lingering teammates as they walk, all of them offering dean grins, or passing comments. he was a little overwhelmed by the prospect of his sudden popularity, but it was made easier by taylor there, practically basking in it all.

"if he does," taylor answers finally, words drawling slowly out of his mouth, "i don't think he's gonna be anything but bedridden for a while. why?"

dean chews on his inner lip, pushing the stadium's back door open and holding it for taylor, who slips out with a duck of his head to avoid knocking his skull into the frame. "no reason," he mumbles, the blast of fall wind whistling in his ears, "just hope he won't be pissed i've taken his spot on the team."

"wyatt's a junior with middle-of-the-line stats," taylor huffs, crooking a smile at a scantily clad girl passing by. dean blinks a couple of times when he realizes he'd been staring, too, as she circled around them and walked ahead of them. christ. "i doubt he's gonna be pissed that the next generation of cardinal players is in good hands, or that you won us a game tonight."

dean didn't think of it like that. he was often finding himself doing that; assuming that his successes would be downplayed, or made into unnecessary competition. he grits his teeth together. but nods, because taylor wasn't wrong. when was he ever wrong when it came to the inner workings of frat boys' minds?

"hey, wait!" a familiar voice calls from behind the both of them, and dean finds himself drawn into the sound of it, turning to meet the eyes he knew he'd find. you, chasing behind them in heels too tall to logically run as quick as you were, a skin-tight long sleeve cherry red dress draped over your frame. you were so damn gorgeous. "oh, hi," you stumble out, spinning on the thin balance of your heel to face them as you pass by.

"hey, cherry," dean traces his eyes down your outfit and back up, a flicker of a smile on his mouth, "you changed quickly."

you give him a look that could only be described as dumbfounded. "it's the first official frat party of the season. i'm not missing it because i'm caught in a locker room." your heels echo on the sidewalk as you walk backwards, sparing a glance over your shoulder. "i'm guessing i'll see you there?"

dean grins this time, giving into it. "yeah. we'll be there."

"cool." you turn again, facing forward as you break into a little jog, fixing the strap of your heel in hobbling steps. "wait, kristen─"

taylor's hand slaps hard into dean's ribs, forcing a scoff out of his mouth. "who the hell was that?"

dean's smile softens. it's one thing to have you to himself, it's another for his friends to learn about you.

"a friend."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ────

the party must have started during the last quarter of the game, because it was already in full swing once taylor pushed open the doors. the thick smell of hot sweat and alcohol wafted out the space, music shaking the doorframe and rattling the open windows.

he clears his throat, raising a hand in gesture to the crowded space. "ladies first."

dean elbows taylor in the stomach as he passes. "shut the hell up."

taylor's shoulders lift in a shrug, one hand coming up to rub the spot between his ribs where dean had dug in. "you're right. that's my bad."

dean gets only a couple of steps in before taylor bends and launches, rearing his head in between dean's legs, his hands going to his shins as he lifts him into the air. dean's hands flail before they grasp into the thick black strands of taylor's hair, his surprised laugh loud in comparison to the grunge on the speakers.

"ladies and gentleman," taylor announces, steady on his feet even with a full-grown guy on his shoulders, "your new fucking quarterback's arrived!"

dean yanks hard on taylor's hair. "shut the hell─"

"someone pour this shithead a drink!" taylor interrupts, his grin widening on his mouth. he'd grown up in a house of six; the oldest of four kids, all of his younger siblings below double digits. taylor king was more than a little used to showboating and acting out so long as it brought a smile to everyone else's faces.

dean, he could tell, was grinning. he acted nonchalant, closed off, but taylor knew an older sibling who wasn't used to the attention when he saw one. if there was one thing dean winchester wouldn't be with taylor around, that was looked over.

slowly, taylor lowers him to the floor, anticipating the punch to the shoulder before it comes. "what we're not gonna do," he says with a stern expression, arms firmly crossing over his chest to punctuate his serious tone, "is act like you're just some dude at a frat party."

dean blinks at him. they're only a couple of inches off from being the same height, but taylor uses those couple inches in his favor now. "i played for one minute of one game."

"and now you're gonna be playing every minute of every game," taylor answers, turning at the tap that comes to his shoulder. he flashes a dazzling grin at the girl and the cups she holds out ─ cropped cardinal red jersey, the stanford logo emblazed on her breast, a white skirt... kristen, dean's friend had called her. he couldn't wait to hear kristen's voice. "bottoms up, winchester. welcome to the hall of fame."

taylor grabs both cups from her, purposeful when his fingers brush against kristen's, and lifts them out of her grip, extending one of them to dean. "here's to the new backbone of the team," taylor hums before he takes a long drink, barely wincing at the burn in his throat. smells like rubbing alcohol, tastes like it, too. "don't fuck it up."

dean tentatively raises the cup to his mouth, and it's enough to make taylor grin. he's like a little southern puppy playing where he shouldn't. taylor wants to take him everywhere and see what he gets up to.

kristen's fingers curl around taylor's bicep, and he's afraid to leave dean, but the thought of not taking advantage of his given opportunities makes his stomach feel knotted up. "will you show me which room is yours?" she asks, her dark eyelashes fluttering up at him.

taylor could have bust right there.

"oh, i don't have a room here yet, honey," he drawls, his hand moving to trace his fingertips over her cheekbone, "but we can go test out all the beds. y'know, so i know which one i want when i do move in. how about that?"

dean audibly groans behind him. it's not taylor's fault that girls fall at his feet. who would he be to turn them away from what they want?

"go run off n' find your pretty little friend," taylor says, reaching up to pinch dean's cheek between his fingers, "cherry, right? go hang out with her and leave big daddy king to handle all your lovely new fans. as a favor for winning for us, yeah?"

dean doesn't blink, doesn't smile. his lips somehow flatten even more. taylor grins. "as a favor."

"you're welcome, by the way," taylor adds, letting himself be dragged through the sea of sticky people toward the staircase, "and tell cherry her friend's in great hands!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ────

maybe there was another frat party that night, and that's where you'd run off to. this may have been the biggest one, but maybe you didn't fuck with crowds either, like he didn't; picked one of the smaller houses blaring music and snuck inside.

dean was considering it.

every step he took, someone said something to him about the game, about his save, or tried to drag him away upstairs like kristen had with taylor. as appealing as the idea was, he was curious about where you'd gone, and wasn't about to give into his desires on the very first celebratory frat party.

you were always so easy to find.

you had this light about you that dean had yet to find in another person on campus. you, somehow, were always where the laughter came from, or just so happened to be the source of it.

and there you were, in the center of the expansive living space of phi kappa psi, like a red beacon.

it wasn't as graceful as taylor had been, shoving past the clustered student body to get to where he wanted. taylor was a big, tall guy, and people seemed to dip out of his way the moment they saw his head over of the crowd. dean was tall, too, but he didn't carry the same over-the-top attitude. there could only be one taylor king, after all.

he's two steps away from you when his pocket starts buzzing. dean's eyebrows furrow. all of the people he keeps in contact are here. he knows; has already spoken to them, and their friends, and their friends' friends. unless it's─

dread pools in his lower stomach. he's in the eye of the storm, about to drop out of it and back into the chaos, as the crowd shifts and squeezes around him. any moment, he'll get swept away from you. any moment, his phone will stop ringing.

he manages to pull it out without it being knocked out of his fingers, flipping it open to read the caller id. even more dread fills him. sammy.

"sam?" he asks once he presses the green answer button, though even he can barely hear his voice with the buzz of laughter and chatter, and the music blaring through the speakers pressed straight ahead against the wall. "sammy?"

impatience and frustration flutter through his stomach. he can't hear shit on the other side of the line. he clicks the volume button up as high as he can, and still nothing.

dean's eyes catch on yours, and his heart pangs at the beginnings of concern etched into your expression. "hang on, sammy, let me get outside─"

he turns his back to you. it's even harder now to get out of the house with how full it'd gotten since dean and taylor showed up, the rest of the football team and cheer team and whoever else having made their way over.

breaking out of the crowd and finding the front door is a breath of fresh air all of in itself. finally, he can hear something on the other side of the line.

"are you at a party?" sammy's voice still sounds weak. the cell reception was the problem this time, not the overstimulation of sounds. dean takes a couple of steps down the sidewalk leading up to the house, in the direction of the mailbox planted by the winding road. "sorry, you can go back, i'll─"

"shut up, sammy," dean says without any malice behind it. "i haven't talked to you in a week. you're not interruptin' anything."

"i just wanted to know how it was going."

dean smiles a little despite himself. he wishes more than anything that he could drive the twenty seven hours back home and bring him back with him, even if sam was still just a sophomore in high school.

"there was a football game today," dean says, resting his elbow on the bricked in mailbox, "and, uh, we were losing. not by a lot, but it was tense. the quarterback, his name's cameron wyatt, he... he got injured, and i─"

sammy's line cuts in again. "─what was that? i don't think dad paid the phone bill again, i think my minutes are about─"

the line goes dead. in his ear instead of sam's voice is the incessant beep of a dropped call.

dean tries to ignore the pang in his chest. he doesn't move the phone from his ear yet, as if his sheer will could force the call to go through again. "i won, sammy. i got put in and i won it for us."

us. for the team. for himself. for sam. even if sam wasn't capable of being there.

dean sighs, scrubbing one hand over his face as the other shoves his phone back into the pocket of his sweatpants.

"the connection's really shitty out here."

dean blinks in surprise, glancing over his shoulder to find you there. the moon highlights the vibrant red of your dress, and the jewelry around your neck. his eyes trace over you in your entirety, his bad mood slipping away like water through his fingertips.

"sorry, didn't mean to..." you trail off, your arms wrapping around your chest, fingertips tapping along your inner elbows. "interrupt. i just wanted to see if... if you were okay. you looked a little─"

"i'm good," dean cuts you off, forcing an easy smile onto his mouth. "just... my brother called, is all. call dropped."

you look like you don't believe him, and your lingering silence only adds onto that theory. dean doesn't know if he hates you for it, or wants you to stick around.

"like i said," you say finally on a short, dramatic sigh, "this area's got the worst cell connection. i guess that's why every room, basically, in alpha phi─"

"no way," dean interjects again, this time with a laugh. "you joined a sorority?"

to your credit, it takes you a few seconds to blush. under the pale moonlight and the golden streetlight, you look the same color as your dress. his smile widens. "i just wanna know the whole college experience, you know?"

"hm." dean shoves both hands in the deep middle pocket of his hoodie. "i figured frat parties, microwave dinners, and failing exams was the college experience. not that i'm judging, of course."

you laugh then, too. "sounds a little like you are," you hum, and then your face twists up in some sort of recognition, eyes glimmering, "i told you i was rushing sororities! why do you sound so surprised? think i wouldn't get in?"

dean rolls his eyes, his expression warm, his heart feeling lighter already. "no. i figured you'd get in."

"oh, so you just forgot?" you tsk, starting to walk the sidewalk up to him. "fame's already gotten to your head."

"fame─" dean gives you the same flat look he'd given taylor earlier. "there's no fame. and i didn't forget. don't be ridiculous. i can't forget anything about you."

again, the silence afterwards feels heavy, this time with something other than disbelief. then, you nod toward the street behind him. "hopefully you aren't too distracted with college popularity to walk me home?"

dean watches you for a few seconds. the wind tossles your bouncy hair, gloss glitters on your mouth, your heels tap against your arm. he hadn't even realized you weren't wearing them. maybe he should have. you were back to being a good bit shorter than him.

"sure," dean concedes, reaching out to steal the heels out of your hand by their straps, "after you, cherry red."

you scoff, but don't say anything back for a while. the silence isn't awkward, at least to dean. it feels peaceful, almost. the wind whistles through the scattering leaves, making your hair flutter behind you as you walk, and you look utterly enchanting because of it.

"it's just a couple of houses down," you say eventually, lifting a red-nailed finger to point at one of the big buildings.

dean nods. "thought there'd be pink bows all around it. or flowers. both."

"don't be ridiculous," your eyes roll, the corners of your mouth tilting up when your gaze is back on him, "they're inside."

dean lifts his hands in surrender, your heels bouncing off of his forearms. "rookie mistake."

your laugh is like music to his ears. he can't take his eyes off of you. it's only when you slow to a stop that he realizes you've reached your destination. the prickling on his skin from your gaze is almost enough to make him flush.

"thank you, 67," you say with noticeable sincerity. "i know it probably took time out of your busy schedule to fit walking me home in, but─"

"please," dean shakes his head, holding his hand up to stop you, "don't bring it up. i swear to god. taylor's already gotten it in his head i'm some campus celebrity now."

your fingers close around his as you take your shoes from his hand. "just don't forget about me when everyone else starts to realize you're a pretty cool guy, okay?"

dean shakes his head, his smile soft and molten, and somehow a little sad, too. that you could think you were so easy to forget was a joke in of itself. "promise i won't." he nods toward the building behind you. "get some sleep. it's late."

you start down the sidewalk, and dean's seconds from taking a step back to walk back to his dorm building when you speak again. "goodnight, 67. you were great tonight."

dean had endured a lot of flattery that night. none of it felt on the same level as those few simple words you'd said to him did. didn't even come close. "goodnight, cherry," he calls back to you, and doesn't look back again, because he doesn't think he'd leave if he did, and that was a dangerous thought.

always such dangerous, ridiculous thoughts when it came to you.

the walk back to his dorm room is quiet. the wind doesn't sound the same when it's not whistling through your hair, flipping the strands around your face.

he should call taylor, make sure he was alright, even if dean knew in his heart that he was doing as he promised and making sure all of the girls looking to celebrate that night were getting taken care of. he should message sam, see if everything was alright.

and he will. but for some reason, he's drawn to the boxy computer monitor on one end of his and taylor's shared room. he wiggles the mouse to pull it out of sleep mode, and realizes why he felt the need to look.

tens of hundreds of friend requests to his aol account, probably because of the win he'd secured. and right at the very top, the newest one, was cherrypie.

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#──★ dahlia's jrnl #──★ number 67 #stanford!dean #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fic #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #spn fic

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foone · 19 hours ago

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I need to watch more Star Trek: The Original Series. Despite, you know, everything about me, I've only actually seen like a third of it. I never was a big fan as a kid and I never went back to watch it.

The slightly embarrassing reason why I need to watch it is that I've been developing this headcanon about Bones where he's got a complex and somewhat destructive relationship with death and I honestly don't know if it's backed up by canon and I don't want to keep talking about it (in the same ways, at least) if it's not really canon-compatible.

So I wanna re-watch/watch TOS just so I can see if my Bones characterization makes any sense or if it's solidly an alternate take on the character, like "what if bones was a depressed perfectionist with substance abuse issues?"

Like, I know he's often the smilies and jokiest of the crew, but that always read as, like... "clown happiness", for lack of a better term. It's smiling and joking as an act, because you don't want to look and sound as miserable as you are.

I think McCoy is a man who wants to save everyone and despite the wonders of his future technology, he knows he can't win. No matter how many miracles he pulls off, it's just a matter of time before they come back from a mission with something he can't fix, and they die on his medibed or in his arms on a mission. This is, of course, not helped by his two closest friends being Kirk and Spock, who are always willing to die to save each other, the crew, the mission, strangers, alien rocks with laser eyes, the concept of hatred itself, whatever.

He's "happy" and "jokey" but in a M*A*S*H sense: you're saving lives but sometimes it hits a little too hard that you're saving soldiers who are just going to go back out there and get shot or blown up or whatever damn foolish way. And he drinks a lot more than he should to not have to face those facts sober. And to forget, even if only for a moment, all the faces of those he failed to save.

Spocks got an eidetic memory from his green-blooded heritage, but Bones doesn't need one to be sure he remembers that young ensign who was grabbed by a plasma macrobe and had all his red blood cells turned to dust. There's one of those every day, it seems. Different reasons, different situations, different faces dying in front of him and he never stops feeling like a failure when it happens. But he goes on, because if he gives up that'll just mean more deaths and pain and sickness.

He knows he's gonna lose this war in the end. But that's no reason to stop fighting. He drags himself to the sickbay every morning, happy and chipper, because if he doesn't do this he can't live with himself, and you've he's got to put on a good show for the patients, nurses, officers. They're counting on him, and they need his wholesome bedside manner.

But you can see it when he gets angry. How pissed he gets when people die for no reason, are sick for no reason, are denied treatment for no reason, and how much he hates all this space malarkey. His anger sounds like a man who has been hurting for a very long time and is finally letting some of it out.

#Bones #star trek tos

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genderqueerdykes · 3 days ago

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Honestly seeing your posts about trans masculinity made us back track and reevaluate our trans-ness and realize-realize that we are a trans guy(or well partially).

For around 1 year we identified as transmasc and it was wonderful , until we started getting self conscious , we had friends who would constantly hate on men and would be like “ oh but not you though your a good one “ and we also had friends who dropped us after we started transitioning / not shaving our hair anymore because they said we were “ becoming the enemy “ and that “ we were betraying all women “ which stuck with us , we felt that by us being transmasc that would make us a threat to our loved ones and we then completely rejected our masculinity up until like 3-4 months ago. so like seeing your posts about trans men and masculine folks has helped us a lot so thank you so much.

-Sincerely a intersex transmasc system :3

that's actually so sad that people responded to you like that. why do people think it's okay to say this to others? like they just blurt it out without thinking or caring about how it will make the other person feel. even "joking" or being "sarcastic" about it is screwed up.

when people tell me i don't know what rad feminism is, i point to experiences like yours. this is exactly what they do and say

"you're becoming the enemy" "you're betraying all women/womanhood"

i need people to seriously analyze this verbiage. why are men and women supposed to be enemies? if we are trying to teach men that men and women are not enemies, why are we letting women who haven't grasped this concept get away with it, too? this is gender essentialism at its peak. men are not a threat to women. a "woman" becoming a man is not a betrayal to women and womanhood. you're not failing womanhood. you're not a woman. it doesn't apply to you. you can't fail a group you don't occupy just by being honest about your own identity

is becoming a woman betraying men? is becoming a woman "becoming the enemy"?

no?

okay, then realize how fucked up it is to say this to trans men. you have to care. trans men are people. you don't get to hurt us just because someone else hurt you. it's not going to solve anything. that's perpetuating the cycle of abuse.

#asks #answers #transmasculine #transmasc #trans man #trans men #transandrophobia #antimasculism #examples of transandrophobia #examples of radfeminism

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nicoleshifting · 3 days ago

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persisting in your assumptions

after finally sitting down and reading more of the power of awareness by neville goddard tonight, one section really stood out to me in terms of being related to shifting.

"if you would change your life, you must begin at the very source with your own basic concept of self. outer change, becoming part of organizations, political bodies, religious bodies, is not enough. the cause goes deeper. the essential change must take place in yourself, in your own concept of self. you must assume that you are what you want to be and continue therin, for the reality of your assumption has its being in complete independence of objective fact, and will clothes itself in flesh if you persist in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. when you know that assumptions, if persisted in, harden into facts, then events which seem to be the uninitiated mere accidents will be understood by you to be the logical and inevitable effects of your assumption.

the important thing to bear in mind is that you have infinite free will in choosing your assumptions, but no power to determine conditions and events. you can create nothing, but your assumption determines what portion of creation you will experience."

let me break this down some to how I interpreted this to relate to shifting. to shift, all you essentially have to do is assume the state of the wish fulfilled, i.e. being fully aware of your dr and in your dr body. but since people, including myself, tend to overcomplicate shifting, we get too caught up in external aspects of shifting. for example, perfecting your script, worrying about how the timelines of events will go, waiting for the 'perfect time' to shift, thinking there needs to be some sort of shifting routine. nothing besides yourself is going to help you shift. drinking tea and taking a bath and having a pretty script and making a viral shifttok video is doing nothing to actually further your shifting journey. it's fun to do, don't get me wrong, but at it's core it is not necessarily helping you shift to your dr. (having fun with shifting, however, is always encouraged by me!!)

"you can create nothing, but your assumption determines what portion of creation you will experience." this!! you didn't create your dr, as we know, these places already existed. your assumption and belief that you are already in your dr, that this place exists and events are happening and you are there doing stuff as you read this, and believing that you will shift there. that is what you need to shift. literally just persist and believe that you are there and you will be there. it is inevitable.

your concept of self determines your reality. if you deep down don't think you are capable of shifting, then you probably won't shift. but if you change your self concept, you change your reality. persist. persist. persist. it may take some inner work and time to change your self concept, but once you realize that's what is holding you back, you are truly capable of doing anything. if you're like me, and you have realized you have been deep down resisting shifting since you found about it, maybe do some soul searching as to why... (I know I am).

#law of assumption #loa #manifesting #reality shifting #shifting #shiftblr #shifting community #shifting blog #shiftingrealities #nicoleshifting

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e-vay · 2 days ago

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Hi!! First of all, I'm a BIG fan of yours and I love your work! My question is, do you still have your first reference sheet or your first design ideas for Aurora? Or maybe the names you have thought to give her? I'd love to know more about our girl!

Thank you so very much! I really appreciate that 🥰

A long time ago I posted a compilation of Aurora's designs throughout the years. She started out pink, then she was purple, then powder blue, then back to pink haha.

I'll give you the full rundown of Aurora's history but it's not all sunshine and rainbows, so buckle up!

When I very first started drawing her, her personality and background were COMPLETELY different. She was more of a reflection of all the shit I was going through at the time and she was my coping mechanism (🎶childhood trauma🎶). She was from a mechanoid, dystopian future and she was orphaned at a young age, so she was a very jaded character. She ended up traveling back in time and actually getting to meet Sonic and Amy (during the time we see them in the games), but she was really bitter and resentful towards them. I only have this one scan of a drawing from that era, I lost everything else:

I really do not know when this was drawn, but based on the art style and trying to recall what my living situation was like at the time, I am guessing this was probably around 2001.

Then between 2004-2006, things in my life started to drastically change again and so I don’t know, I guess I decided to reevaluate things? I don’t remember a lot from this time —again, childhood trauma—so I don’t remember exactly what sparked the change. But I think I was like "Wait a minute, Sonic and Amy and Aurora don't deserve this. I’ve been making this all about me. Let me try again." So then I rebuilt Aurora the proper way, thinking about what traits she’d inherit from her parents and the way they would raise her, and thinking about just how fun a family the three of them would be (because the ideals of “fun” and “adventure” are so important to both Sonic and Amy so of course they would make for a fun family). So that’s where her personality and relationship with Sonic and Amy became what you know it as today.

I fell out of the Sonic phase for awhile and was focused on other interests for several years, and then around 2014 I came back to Aurora and that’s where I ended up with her current design. Even then I was experimenting with her interests and motivations, and this is when I gave her the power of light. It just seemed to really suit her and I thought both Sonic and Amy are just such pure sources of light and love that it made sense for it to physically manifest as a power in her.

The one thing that's never changed was her name. She was always named Aurora, even from the very beginning.

I know this was a LOT of personal info about my own life, but my history played a huge part in the initial concept of Aurora which is so insanely different from the Aurora you all know, so that’s why I figured I’d explain.

#ask me #evayQA #aurora the hedgehog #my life #personal #trauma #childhood trauma #tmi #angst #drama #sonic trash #long post

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inez-winchester-cameron · 2 days ago

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his (dark!rafe x fem!reader)

cw: murder, probably some psychological things, reader is scared of rafe, dark!rafe, technically imprisonment, manipulation

notes: i have a second idea/concept that follows this so if anyone would like more feel free to let me know!

rafe has always been a little off in the head, you knew, his friends knew it, his family knew it, hell he knew it. but you never anticipated he would take it this far.

you had a horrible day. you hadn't slept well, you received a horrible grade on a test, had a ton of homework and on top of that your dad screamed at you over leaving your laundry in the dryer a little too long. you were sobbing and in need of comfort and just like always — rafe was there. it was one of the reasons you were able to put up with the horrible way he treats others.

you sit wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, your favorite show playing on the tv. rafe got you all cozied up in his shirt and one of his gigantic fuzzy blankets before leaving and promising to bring back your favorite meal.

he returns home an hour and a half after he originally left, happy to see you're focused on the show. the sound of his boots hitting the tile is enough for you to turn and your face immediately falls, horrified.

standing near the door, wiping his boots off, is rafe. his soft brown hair is soaked, you weren't sure if it was with sweat or rain. his jacket is opened, revealing a shirt covered in blood stains and blood is splattered all over his face and neck.

"hey dolly," he greets you casually, slipping his boots off and coming in. he leans over the back of the couch and gently kisses your forehead, a stark contrast to his appearance, "how's my girl? i brought your food and i got myself something too so you wouldn't feel out of place or anything." he sets the food on the table and then moves away to slip his jacket off, "you okay? you're quiet."

"what the— rafe, what the hell. you're covered in blood."

"right. sorry." he chuckles casually, "i'll go get cleaned up and join you in fifteen, alright?"

"no," you blurt out, not entirely finishing your thought and not entirely sure what you're going to say, "can you-" you pause and take a deep breath, "can you please explain to me why you are covered in blood?"

it's not as if similar situations haven't happened before. rafe was always spontaneous and getting into trouble but it was so odd for him to come home this late at night, covered in blood. additionally, he was completely nonchalant about it.

he pauses and thinks for a moment, trying to contain his anger, "i just took care of some business tonight."

"what business?"

"nothing you should concern yourself with, doll. i'll go clean up and join you in a bit and-"

"rafe!" you raise your voice, and he turns to you pissed and exasperated.

"what?"

"you need to explain and talk to me. you're worrying me and-"

he cuts you off, "i had a talk with your father, okay? nothing you should concern your pretty little head with."

"rafe what are you talking about..?" you ask, rather quietly, "where did the blood come from?"

a short chuckle leaves his lips and he looks at you in slight disbelief, "come on, doll. you're a smart girl. what do you think happened?"

you freeze and simply stare at him, "rafe..no.." fear fills your face and you slowly stand, making your way to the exit, "i think i need to go...i need to go uh check on my dad."

"doll, what are you doing? come back, don't overreact."

"no i think i really need to go i'll just, uh, i'll go." you say, turning to exit. rafe makes a few quick strides and grabs your wrist before you can open the door. a small gasp leaves your lips.

"don't be dramatic, sweetheart. come sit down, we'll talk this out." he mutters, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your ear. you flinch, and anger filled his face, "don't flinch from me. you know i ain't gonna hurt you. come on, let's go sit." he moves back and gently tugs on your wrist, trying to get you to the couch.

tears fill your eyes, filled with fear, "no i should go. i don't wanna be here, rafe. i wanna go home." you don't budge as he attempts to tug you towards the couch.

"sweetheart, you're starting to piss me off. go sit. now."

"no-" you start but rafe interrupts you by harshly grabbing your upper arms, staring down at you.

"go. sit. now."

tears start to fall down your face and you shake a bit as you sit down on the couch. rafe sits beside you and wraps an arm around your waist, resting that hand on your upper thigh. he places a gentle kiss beside your ear and mutters, "just relax, doll. i'd never hurt you, y'know that right?"

all you could focus on was the hand resting on your thigh. the hands that you used to adore and love to be touched by were covered in blood. blood that you speculated belonged to your own father.

the hand on your thigh gives a tight squeeze and he speaks again, "asked you a question, doll."

"yes sir." your small voice comes out.

"good, because you belong to me whether you like it or not. you're mine, always." he responds, a small smirk on his lips.

that's when it hit you. you could try to run and leave, you could try to get the law involved, you could beg rafe to let you go but it was all no use. he had claimed you as his and no matter what, he was keeping you. whether you were willing or not.

#rafe fic #rafe #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe smut #obx #outerbanks #outerbanks fanfiction #outer banks

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yiangchen · 9 hours ago

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as much as i love bellarke, i think a kiss (on the lips) would have been too much in the s2 finale. clarke had already been forced to mercy kill finn and lexa had just betrayed her. and then bellarke committed genocide. all in the same season. girl was going THROUGH it. i also think the cheek kiss is fitting. and that much more heartbreaking somehow. it’s like. i am too broken to offer anything to you. all i can offer is this short-lived moment of intimacy, and then i have to go. you deserve so much more than me. you know that’s what she was thinking despite his pleas for her to stay.

now, i could see an au where he convinces her to stay, but only if they don’t stay in arkadia but go somewhere new. there are so many post s2 au fics where t100 and bellarke settle by the sea and i absolutely ADORE that concept. in a world where they were going to be cancelled after two seasons and knew about it, i could see this happening and there’s a montage implying everyone lives happily ever after and bellarke gets together eventually.

season 3 is a tricky one. because that season is A Lot…as we all know lmao. they were definitely being set up in the first few episodes. however, gina’s and lexa’s deaths very quickly make things kinda complicated. i love the idea of bellarke happening during hakeldama (all of the emotions were coming out and that kneeled down hand hold was insanely romantic), but only in a universe where bellamy and gina either weren’t together or she didn’t die. i honestly think gina wasn’t going to exist originally and that s2 set up bellarke to happen in s3, but then lexa’s popularity caught the writers off guard, and they decided to go the c/lexa route briefly. so then gina was added in. and things very quickly became a kind of love square (bellamy’s jealousy/hurt over clarke working with lexa and raven telling bellamy “too bad you were never that devoted to gina”). it’s honestly wild looking back at how blatant that was. before the bellamy, clarke and echo triangle, there was the bellamy, clarke, lexa and gina square (and before that there was the bellamy, clarke, finn and raven square…but that’s a discussion for another day!)

anyway, moving on to s4. i do agree that they probably considered clarke making it to space or bellamy staying on earth, but only in a universe where they were going to be cancelled. bellarke never spent a significant time in the same place off screen. i think that was intentional. we were never meant to miss any of bellarke’s story. and if they had gotten together over a time jump, we would have missed so much. i do think it works in the case of a cancellation though. i can see it so clearly. when clarke comes back and sees that he didn’t leave, she’s furious, asking him why, and he’d probably say something sappy yet sarcastic about how it’s kinda hard to listen to his head when his heart is telling him he’s in love with the girl he’s supposed to leave behind. idk who kisses who, but let me tell you, this would have been the KISS we had been waiting for. and then! cue montage of bellamy and clarke surviving together and meeting madi and becoming a family and then five years later reuniting with everyone in space and in the bunker.

on a side note, it absolutely kills me that we will never know what bellamy was going to say in 4x06. you are so right though. the writers know and they never went anywhere with that. just like the radio calls. absolutely tragic…

speaking of the radio calls, i would just love to know what was running through their brains with that one. oh to have been in the writers room during that discussion…

it's still so fascinating to me that bellarke was supposed to happen in 6x10/6x11, bob was informed of this, but then he received the script and it didn't happen. that's just so sketch. truly what was going on behind the scenes. it's just so WEIRD the more you think about it. also makes me wonder if that was the first time that had happened. i mean, we already know that there were changes to the 1x08 script to get rid of the line where bellamy asks clarke to run away with him, so i don't think it's that far outside the realm of possibility to think that there were other romantic lines/scenes that were cut throughout the series. i honestly think every season they probably toyed with the idea of them happening, wrote a first kiss or a confession or maybe an almost kiss, decided against it and thought hey actually let's push this to next season, drag it out a little longer.

#i love talking about this shit #i have missed this fandom so much!#bellarke #t100 #its been long enough that it no longer hurts #its fun to reminisce

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scrollonso · 2 days ago

Text

Cinnamon — Strollonso (1) (Prologue)

Lance sat at the same round table in the campus café, nursing yet another iced coffee, but this time, his nerves were frayed. His mind kept replaying the interaction with Dr. Alonso from the day before — the way his gaze had lingered, the way his voice had softened when he said Lance’s name.

“Earth to Lance.”

Jessica’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She, Esteban, Charles, and Zhou were all gathered around him again, but this time, they looked like they were dying to know what was going on inside his head.

“So?” Charles prompted, leaning in eagerly. “What’s the plan? Are you gonna talk to him again?”

"Are you going to suck him off?" Somehow, Zhou always knew what to say to get Charles to try and knock some sense into him.

Lance groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I don’t have a plan. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Esteban snorted. “You’re definitely flirting with him.”

“I’m not—”

Jessica cut him off with a knowing grin. “Oh, you are. And he’s flirting back.”

Lance peeked at her through his fingers. “You really think so?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Yes, Lance. We all think so. The only question is: what are you gonna do about it?”

Before Lance could answer, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced down, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the email notification:

From: [email protected]

Subject: Office Hours

Lance tapped the screen, opening the email.

Mr. Stroll,

I noticed you seemed uncertain during yesterday’s lecture. If you’d like to discuss the reading further, I’ll be holding office hours this afternoon at 2 PM.

Dr. Fernando Alonso

Lance stared at the message, his mind racing.

Jessica grabbed his phone out of his hand. “Oh my God. He totally wants you to come see him.”

Zhou whistled. “Office hours. That’s classic professor code for ‘I want to see you alone.’”

Lance snatched his phone back. “It’s not—” He stopped, rereading the email. “Okay… maybe it is.”

Esteban grinned. “You’re going, right?”

“I don’t know,” Lance muttered, his fingers twitching over his phone. “What if I’m wrong? What if he’s just being nice?”

Charles shook his head. “Nice professors don’t stare at their students like they’re dessert, Lance. Go.”

Jessica smirked. “Besides, don’t you want to see him? You’ve been drooling over his forearms for weeks.”

Lance flushed. “Fine. I’ll go.”

At 2 PM sharp, Lance stood outside Dr. Alonso’s office door, his palms sweaty again. He raised his hand to knock but hesitated.

Before he could talk himself out of it, the door opened.

Dr. Alonso stood there, impeccably dressed as always, his expression calm but unreadable.

“Mr. Stroll,” he greeted, stepping aside to let Lance in. “I’m glad you came.”

Lance swallowed hard and stepped inside, his heart pounding in his chest.

Dr. Alonso closed the door behind him, the soft click of the lock sounding far louder than it should have.

“I thought we could go over the reading in more detail,” Dr. Alonso said, motioning for Lance to take a seat. "it's not often you struggle in my class so i'd rather eliminate any possible confusion before you get behind."

Lance sat down, trying not to fidget as Dr. Alonso moved to sit across from him. The desk between them felt like a flimsy barrier, one that could easily be crossed.

“So,” Dr. Alonso began, his gaze steady. “Power dynamics. You seemed particularly interested in that topic yesterday.”

Lance cleared his throat, struggling to find his voice as he pursed his lips into a fine line. “Yeah, um… it’s an interesting concept.”

Dr. Alonso tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile. “It is. Especially when applied to… certain relationships.”

Lance’s breath caught.

“Tell me,” Dr. Alonso continued, his voice dropping just slightly, “what do you think happens when one person holds more power in a relationship? How does it affect… let's say, attraction?”

Lance’s heart was racing now. Was this still about ethics?

“I think…” Lance hesitated, meeting Dr. Alonso’s gaze. “I think it depends on whether the power is mutual.”

Dr. Alonso leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. “And do you think it can be?”

Lance nodded slowly. “Yeah. If both people are willing to… share it.”

Dr. Alonso’s smile deepened. “A wise answer.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them crackled with tension, unspoken words hanging heavily in the silence.

Finally, Dr. Alonso stood, walking around the desk until he was standing just in front of Lance.

Lance looked up — he hadn't felt this small in god knows how long — his pulse thundering in his ears.

“You’re not just any student, Mr. Stroll,” Dr. Alonso said softly, his eyes never leaving Lance’s. “You’ve… caught my attention.”

Lance’s breath hitched. “I have?”

Dr. Alonso nodded, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from Lance’s forehead.

“Yes,” he murmured. “And I find myself… wanting to know more.”

Lance’s heart nearly exploded. Holy shit. This is actually happening.

“And you?” Dr. Alonso asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you feel the same?”

Lance swallowed hard, then nodded. “Oh, Yea— Yeah… I do.”

Dr. Alonso’s hand lingered for a moment before he pulled away, stepping back.

“We’ll need to be careful,” he said, his tone serious. “But if you’re willing to take the ri—”

Lance stood, closing the distance between them. “I am.”

Their eyes met once more, and this time, neither of them looked away.

Dr. Alonso’s lips curved into a smile. “Good.”

For a moment, the world outside the office ceased to exist. Lance could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat in his ears, his gaze locked on Dr. Alonso’s — no, Fernando’s — dark, intense eyes.

Fernando leaned against the desk, his posture casual yet commanding. “You’re certain?” he asked, his voice low and deliberate.

Lance nodded again, more confident this time. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

A flicker of something passed through Fernando’s gaze — surprise, maybe even amusement. He crossed his arms, the muscles in his forearms flexing under his rolled-up sleeves.

“You realize this… complicates things,” Fernando said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

Lance couldn’t help but grin back. “I’ve never really been one to go for simple.” He figured that much was obvious considering he was a double major and had managed to take one of Fernando's classes two years in a row now.

Fernando chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Of course you haven’t.”

The tension between them hung in the air, thicker now, charged with anticipation. Lance shifted his weight from one foot to the other, resisting the urge to close the remaining space between them again.

Fernando tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “There’s a fine line, you know, between temptation and consequence.”

Lance quirked an eyebrow. “Which side are we on right now?”

Fernando’s smile deepened. “That depends on how far you’re willing to go.”

Lance took a slow step forward, his voice steady. “I told you — I’m all in.”

The room felt smaller now, the distance between them shrinking with each breath. Fernando watched Lance carefully, his expression unreadable, but there was no denying the spark in his eyes.

“I could lose everything,” Fernando murmured, almost to himself.

“And so could I,” Lance countered, his tone gentle but firm.

For a long moment, Fernando said nothing. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached out, his fingers brushing Lance’s cheek. The touch was light, tentative, as if testing the boundaries of what they were about to cross.

“You’re dangerous, Mr. Stroll,” Fernando whispered, his thumb grazing Lance’s jaw.

Lance smiled, leaning into the touch. “Maybe you like it.”

Fernando chuckled again, his hand slipping to the back of Lance’s neck, pulling him just a fraction closer.

“Perhaps I do,” he murmured, before finally — finally — closing the distance between them.

The kiss started soft, almost cautious, as if both of them were testing the waters. But the moment Fernando’s hand slid to the back of Lance’s neck, pulling him closer, the tension that had been simmering between them exploded.

Lance’s hands gripped Fernando’s shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t holding back anymore — neither of them were. Fernando's lips moved with purpose, deepening the kiss until it became all-consuming, leaving Lance breathless. Their mouths melded together in a frantic rhythm, desperate and hungry.

Fernando backed Lance up against the desk, his hands traveling down to Lance’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. Lance gasped into the kiss, his fingers sliding into Fernando’s hair, tugging just enough to earn a soft groan from the older man. It sent a shiver down Lance’s spine.

“Fuck,” Lance whispered against Fernando’s lips, his voice shaky.

Fernando chuckled, his breath warm on Lance’s skin. “Language, Mr. Stroll.”

Lance laughed softly, tilting his head to capture Fernando’s mouth again, more eagerly this time. Their kisses grew messier, more fervent, teeth clashing and tongues tangling. Fernando’s hand slipped under the hem of Lance’s shirt, fingers tracing over his hipbones, and Lance arched into the touch.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” Fernando murmured, his voice low and strained.

Lance bit his lip, his cheeks flushed. “I think I’m starting to.”

Fernando’s lips found Lance’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw and down to his collarbone. Lance tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut as Fernando nipped at his skin, leaving faint marks.

“You’re driving me insane,” Fernando muttered, his grip tightening on Lance’s waist.

“Good,” Lance breathed out, pulling Fernando even closer. His heart was pounding, every nerve in his body alight with desire. “I want to.”

Fernando pulled back just enough to meet Lance’s gaze, his eyes dark with want. “Careful,” he said, voice rough. “You don’t know what you’re starting.”

Lance smiled, his lips swollen and his hair a mess. “Maybe I do.”

“I’ve wanted to do this for longer than I care to admit,” Fernando confessed, his voice rough with emotion.

Lance laughed softly, brushing his fingers through Fernando’s hair. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

The moment was perfect — until a sharp knock on the door shattered the silence.

Fernando pulled back quickly, straightening his posture and smoothing down his shirt. Lance stepped back as well, his heart still racing.

“Come in,” Fernando called, his voice calm and composed, as if nothing had happened.

The door creaked open, revealing Jessica standing there with a smug grin on her face.

“Lance, you’re late for our study session,” she said, her tone dripping with amusement. Her eyes flicked to Fernando briefly before returning to Lance, a knowing look in her gaze.

Lance cleared his throat, grabbing his bag. “Right. Study session.”

Jessica smirked, stepping aside to let Lance out. “See you in class, Dr. Alonso.”

Fernando nodded, his expression perfectly professional. “See you, Ms. Hawkins.”

As they walked down the hallway, Jessica glanced at Lance. “So… how was your ‘context’ conversation?”

Lance groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t start.”

Jessica laughed. “Oh, I won’t. But Charles and Esteban? Good luck.”

Lance couldn’t help but smile, his mind still lingering on the kiss — the kisses.

“Worth it,” he muttered under his breath.

Jessica raised an eyebrow at him as they walked. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Lance said quickly, but the grin tugging at his lips gave him away.

Jessica looped her arm through his. “You’re glowing, Stroll. I’ve never seen you like this. I mean, I know Dr. Alonso is… well, ridiculously hot — but damn. I didn’t expect you to actually do something about it.”

Lance’s cheeks turned pink, and he tried to hide his face by looking straight ahead. “It wasn’t planned.”

“Oh, clearly,” Jessica teased. “You just happened to make out with your ethics professor during office hours. Totally normal.”

Lance groaned. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’ve been crushing on him for a while.”

Jessica stopped in her tracks, forcing Lance to do the same. “You think?”

Before he could answer, the sound of familiar voices echoed down the hallway. Charles and Esteban were leaning against the wall outside the study lounge, deep in conversation.

When they spotted Lance and Jessica approaching, Esteban’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Where the hell have you been?”

Charles crossed his arms, a smirk already forming on his lips. “Wait. Don’t tell me. Were you—”

Jessica cut him off, grinning wickedly. “Let’s just say someone got a little distracted.”

Lance shot her a warning look. “Don’t.”

But Esteban was already piecing it together. His jaw dropped. “No way. No fucking way. You and Alonso?”

Charles barked out a laugh. “You absolute madman.”

“Guys, seriously—” Lance started, but it was no use.

“Holy shit,” Esteban said, his eyes wide. “This is like… forbidden romance. Teacher-student. Secret meetings. Do you know how scandalous this is?”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “It’s not a soap opera, Esteban.”

Charles leaned in, his grin smug. “So… was it good?”

Lance flushed, glaring at his friends. “I hate all of you.”

“Come on, tell us,” Charles pushed. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who does anything halfway.”

Lance groaned again, rubbing his temples. “I’m not discussing my love life with you two.”

“Love life?” Esteban repeated, eyes wide. “You’re calling it a love life already?”

“God, you’re all insufferable,” Lance muttered, but he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face. His thoughts kept drifting back to Fernando’s touch, his kiss, the way he’d looked at him like Lance was the only person in the world.

Jessica patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Lance. We’re just jealous. None of our professors look like that.”

“Or kiss like that,” Charles added with a wink.

“Shut up,” Lance hissed, though he couldn’t help laughing.

As they finally settled into the study lounge, Esteban leaned over, whispering conspiratorially, “So… what happens now?”

Lance’s smile softened. “Now? I guess… we figure it out.”

And, deep down, he already knew he was willing to take the risk — because something told him that whatever he and Fernando had started was only the beginning.

#wrote this while my hair air dried #good morning #f1 #formula 1 #lance stroll #aston martin #ls18 #fernando alonso #fa14 #strollonso #kats f1 blurbs!#i need to make a masterlist #student/teacher #au #fanfic #fic #ao3 #they kiss 👅👅

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