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cherienymphe · 2 days ago

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Teenage Dirtbag XVI

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, mentions of violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, semi public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

“Am I a joke to you? Huh?”

Despite how unserious Rafe’s words were, his attitude and tone were anything but. The past few months had been…okay—as okay as they could be considering the circumstances, you supposed—and while the look on Rafe’s face was far from unfamiliar, it was also a look you hadn’t seen in a while. Most notably the night of his birthday.

The memory of his hand around your throat was fresh, his voice in your ear as he threatened to kill you if you ever tried to leave him again. The violent memory immediately had you on edge, and you absentmindedly touched your neck, worriedly eyeing Rafe just as he strode over to you.

“You think I didn’t see that bullshit at The Wreck?”

His hand was digging into your arm, and you flinched at the painful grip, eyeing him in a mixture of confusion and fear. Rafe’s blue eyes were cold as he stared you down, a sneer on his lips as he leaned in.

“All it takes is a smile and you’re batting those lashes-.”

“...what are you talking about?” you finally spoke, noticing too late that you were knee deep in another fight without even realizing it.

“I’m talking about JJ, that’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” Rafr spat at you, fingers pressing into your skin even harder.

It took you too long to realize just who he was talking about, and when you did, your lips parted in disbelief. You thought to yourself that Rafe couldn’t be serious, there was just no way, but as you looked between his eyes, you slowly—and fearfully—realized that he was indeed very serious.

The food that you'd brought back from The Wreck was sitting on the counter, and you recalled the blond teenager who’d given it to you with a friendly smile, and you recalled that you’d smiled back. Not only was it just the polite thing to do, but it was second nature to you—harmless. Yet, here Rafe was treating it like the highest form of infidelity there was.

“Rafe…be serious.”

You were so in disbelief that you didn’t quite register the danger of the words you were whispering. You were that much in shock—that thrown—that Rafe was starting something over something as simple and harmless as a smile to the guy behind the counter. Your response only made him angrier, and you swore you felt your bones straining under his hold.

“Do I seem anything but serious, right now?”

You couldn’t hold in your pained gasp as your knees buckled, your free hand reaching up to try and make him let go.

“Do you even consider me and my feelings when you pull this shit? Huh?”

His nose brushed against your cheek as you fought to stand, pulling at his hand with tears in your eyes.

“If it’s not you ‘falling’ into Topper’s lap then it’s you trying to break up with me—and on my birthday, no less! Now you just expect me to stand by and watch you make googly eyes at any guy who looks your way? You be serious,” he bit out, shoving you so hard that your back hit the nearest wall.

Your arm was throbbing, now, the blood rushing back to where Rafe’s hand had just been. Your heart was going crazy in your chest, and when you looked up, you did so just in time to see the expensive vase coming your way. The scream that escaped your lips hurt your throat, and you slid to the floor just as the sound of breaking glass reached your ears. The shards went everywhere, and you briefly noted the faint sting on your feet.

You felt paralyzed as you looked up at Rafe.

“Is this…is this another attempt to leave me? Hmm?” he wondered, fingers grazing his chest as he frowned at you. “You think if you piss me off enough, I’ll just wash my hands of you? Is that it?”

You couldn’t stop shaking, and your voice caught in your throat, your brain unable to comprehend how you wound up in this position. Your silence seemed to only make him angrier, and when he took a step towards you, you were finally able to spring to your feet, completely unsure of what he was about to do next.

“Huh? Is that what you’re trying to pull?”

You frantically shook your head.

“N-no. Rafe, no, I don’t-”

“No?” he asked, almost incredulously.

A bitter chuckle left his lips, and Rafe shook his head, blowing out a breath as he kept his eyes on you.

“You sure could’ve fooled me.”

You looked around, chest heaving as you ran different scenarios over in your mind. You went back and forth between trying to talk him down and just making a run for it. The last time Rafe had been this angry, he’d almost choked you to death while verbally promising to do just that if you ever drove him to it. Your perusal did not go unnoticed, and Rafe was suddenly moving closer.

“Wh-where do you think you’re going?” he mockingly asked, holding your gaze, now. “You think we’re done?”

“Rafe…” you pleaded, holding your hands out.

“You think I’m done with you? You think-.”

Rafe cut himself off, reaching for you and cursing when you slipped from his grasp. His hand caught onto your shirt, twisting it, and you stumbled back when he yanked you closer. His other hand circled around your throat, and anything that you were going to say or do was immediately cut short by the feel of metal against your lips.

The scream that caught in your throat was accompanied by the feel of tears kissing your eyes, and your hands immediately wrapped around your boyfriend’s wrist. Rafe’s own eyes were glazed as he stared at you, and a sob bubbled within your chest.

“This is the only way you’re ever going to leave me. Do you understand?”

You were barely listening to a word he said, tears spilling over as you stumbled back with every step he took. The gun had been an 18th birthday gift from Ward, something you’d seen once or twice since you and Rafe started dating. You hadn’t ever given it much thought. After all, you were in North Carolina, and it was the kind of place where kids learned to shoot from the age of twelve.

You hadn’t thought about it when he’d slapped you and not even when he’d threatened your life. Yet here you were…faced with the real possibility that Rafe would use it to kill you. Your tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and your gaze was terrified and pleading. You didn’t even think you were pleading to Rafe—you were just pleading for something. A knock at the door, a car in the yard, the ring of his phone. You were pleading for anything to happen to stop this because in this moment…you weren’t so sure that Rafe would stop on his own.

The blond tilted his head at you, the light glinting off of his blue gaze.

“Hmm?”

You gave a shaky nod, your nails digging into his wrist, and Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time. His hand was on the gun and your hand was on him and neither one of you were moving. The moment he finally pulled his hand back, you were shoving your hand against his face. Your sudden fight took him by surprise, and you didn’t spare him another glance as you bolted for the stairs.

You flinched when your name echoed off of the walls, Rafe’s footsteps in time with yours. Your tearful gaze made it hard to see, and your shoulder knocked into the corner of the wall as you stumbled straight towards the bathroom. Rafe’s voice was loud and angry as he yelled for you, and you didn’t hesitate to slam the bathroom door shut behind you, locking it just moments before Rafe’s hand met the knob.

Your uneven breathing was all you could hear as you fumbled around in your pocket for your phone, and your lashes fluttered from the feel of the door hitting your back from every kick Rafe dealt to it. You felt so disconnected from yourself as you dialed 911, the severity of Rafe’s actions fully washing over you. You couldn’t stop crying as a voice greeted you from the other line, mentally telling yourself that you couldn’t do this anymore.

You had to get out.

You had to.

You couldn’t live like this, you wouldn’t survive it, and as terrifying as it would be to tell the world just who Rafe Cameron really was, the thought of enduring this forever was even scarier.

“What’ya thinking about?”

Rafe’s lips brushed against your temple as he whispered the question, and you only shook your head before turning to look up at him with a small smile.

“Nothing…”

Topper and Kelce were playing poker in the living room, Rafe long abandoning the game to snuggle beside you instead. Today was a good day, but then again, the past few weeks had been full of good days. The disastrous night that was Midsummers was weeks ago, and the morning after—when you’d been applying makeup to your discolored cheek—you had the realization that even if some small part of you had hope that you could get out of this relationship one day, you needed to survive to actually see that happen.

Sneaking around with JJ had brought just as much harm as it did good.

Sure, you were seeing someone who actually cared about you and who didn’t absolutely terrify you. You were reminded of what it was like to be touched by someone without flinching, but on the flip side…you were reminded of what it was like to be touched by someone without flinching.

Your relationship with JJ—if you could even call it that—also served to put into perspective just how bad things had become with Rafe. There was a time when you’d gotten so used to the abuse, so accustomed to the way he talked to you and held you and treated you. The constant reminder of how much better things could be made you act out in ways that you hadn’t in a long time.

Your behavior as of late had given Rafe the perfect excuse to show you just how awful he could really be.

Things were good when you were good, and being good entailed acting as the perfect girlfriend that Rafe wanted. Smiling when he looked at you, standing beside him and looking pretty when he was with his friends, placating him no matter how much in the wrong he was, and eagerly opening your legs for him whenever he wanted. After all, deep down, that’s what it was really about.

Rafe just wanted someone to always be in his corner and to be ever loyal to him.

It didn’t matter that he had to force it.

All Rafe wanted was for someone to kiss him on the cheek at the end of the day and choose him. You would find it sad if said behavior wasn’t actively ruining your life. Playing such a role had long driven you into depression, but it wasn’t so bad, now when you had something else to look forward to. As much as it pained you, you slipped back into that role of the agreeable and enabling girlfriend, content with the temporary relief from it that JJ brought to you.

“You’re always thinking about something,” Rafe murmured, a humorous lilt in his voice that didn’t fool you.

You knew that if Rafe could wish for anything, it would be to see inside of your head. The fact that he could control every aspect of your life except your thoughts was something that bothered him greatly. That was one thing he’d never have access to, and it absolutely ate him up inside.

He was right though.

As you looked at him, you were reminded of his face staring back at you from inside of that cop car. It seemed like so long ago—a lifetime—but nothing had hardly changed. You’d been so sure that day that things would be different. You’d been so scared, so tired, so…defeated. You remembered how determined you were to put a stop to this and start moving on from Rafe Cameron once and for all…but then Ward had gotten into your head and scared you even more with the reality of what would happen.

You wondered if Rafe thought about that day too, if he thought about how if it weren’t for Ward, then things would be very different right now. Rafe had a lot to thank Ward for, you supposed, but you didn’t say any of that. You didn’t dare.

“Just thinking that I’m going to miss you,” you quietly told him.

Ward was going away for the weekend to deal with some business, and Rafe was going with him. The trips had become more frequent over the past year, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before Rafe was fully brought into the family business…and once that was done, it wouldn’t be long before Rafe decided it was time to tie you to him forever. Rafe wanted to have it all, you’d always known that, and once his place by Ward was official, he would start checking things off the list one by one.

Rafe hummed at your response, reaching up and gently taking your chin between his fingers.

“You have been so good lately,” he murmured, leaning in. “I think you really will miss me.”

He pressed his lips to yours, and you kissed him back, closing your eyes and eagerly moving your mouth against his like you used to before JJ. While it was still second nature to you, you had never had to give it so much thought before. Behaving like Rafe’s dream girl was just something you did, something ingrained in you, but lately you had to remind yourself that you wanted things to be easy—smooth sailing.

It didn’t hurt to remember that Rafe noticed the way JJ acted about you these days. Rafe thinking that JJ harbored a crush on you was one thing, but if he even suspected the opposite then you were as good as dead. He thought it was funny, something to laugh about—the thought of JJ Maybank thinking he had a chance with his girlfriend—but the thought that you might be soft on the other blond wasn’t as amusing.

You recalled the way he looked at you as he threatened you that night, driving it into your head that he didn’t want you ever defending ‘that Pogue’ again. It didn’t matter how many times you told him you were just trying to be nice and mature, he didn’t want to hear it. You hadn’t missed the glint in his eyes, and it was then that you told yourself you needed to get it together.

JJ Maynank was messing with your head, rubbing off on you, and sometimes that was good, but there were also times where it wasn’t. He was so headstrong, so impulsive, and while you liked that about him, he was always going to be on the receiving end of Rafe’s wrath if he kept it up, and that was what you told him later that night after Rafe had dropped you off at home with a gentle kiss.

The younger blond huffed, and you watched him run his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I know,” he reluctantly agreed. “I just don’t think you understand how angry he makes me. Downright murderous if we’re being honest.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, hating when JJ talked like that, but you knew that it was all talk. Rafe was home and packing to leave with his father in the morning, and JJ was sitting on the edge of your bed, reaching for you and pulling you closer by your waist. Moments like this made the farce with Rafe worth it, and you placed your hand on the other man’s shoulders.

“You’re used to this, used to him,” he sadly pointed out, gaze soft as he looked up at you. “I’m not, and I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

Your shoulders sagged at that, silently agreeing with him. It did seem a little unfair to expect JJ to fall in line so quickly with something that had taken you years to perfect. The two of you had only been seeing each other for some months.

“You’re right…but do you get how it makes me feel to see him just tear into you because you can’t keep your mouth shut?”

JJ’s lips quirked up at that, and you lightly hit his shoulder.

“It’s not funny,” you told him, letting out a light chuckle anyway. “Unlike you, I’m good at this. He’ll never suspect me, but he has no problem with punching you in the face for just looking at me too long, and I know how much you love fighting Rafe, but it gives me a mini heart attack every time.”

The blond didn’t respond right away at that, and he eventually sighed before leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. When he tilted his head back, he looked up at you from beneath his lashes.

“For the sake of your heart…I’ll be better. I promise.”

The tension in your body eased a bit, but it didn't last long as you watched JJ push the end of your shirt up your torso.

“Now enough about Rafe,” he whispered into your skin. “I have you all to myself this weekend.”

You shuddered at the feel of JJ’s tongue against your stomach, and his fingers wasted no time in searching for the waist of your skirt.

With your parents just down the hall, you were hyper aware of every noise you made under JJ’s careful ministrations. Lying underneath him felt more like a real relationship than any moment you’d ever had with Rafe. JJ was gentle with every touch he gave to you, and you couldn’t stop your stomach from flipping every time he let himself lose control, frantically shaking your head whenever he asked if he was hurting you.

It was a good kind of hurt.

That was something you thought you’d never say. The blond was careful in leaving you blemish free for obvious reasons, but on the off chance that you woke up with a slight bruise or a mark on your chest, it didn’t feel like it did when you looked at Rafe’s marks in the mirror. You’d stare at them with the strangest desire for more, wanting JJ to keep marking you.

One of his hands massaged your breast while the other was being stroked by his tongue, shaky moans escaping your lips in your dark room. You’d grown addicted to the way his cock stretched you out, eagerly opening your legs for him every time he crawled between them. Sex with JJ was fun and good, and it never not ended with you begging him to come inside of you.

You absentmindedly talked with Sarah while you waited for your food. She was telling you about some trip they planned on going with the Twinkie, but you had to be honest with yourself in admitting that you were hardly listening. JJ and Pope were on the other side of the restaurant, and the blond kept catching your eye no matter how much you tried to pretend like you couldn’t feel the heat of his gaze.

It was only a few hours ago that he’d been climbing out of your bedroom with promises to see you tonight. Heat settled in the pit of your stomach at the memory of his fingers on you and in you, and you reminded yourself to savor this because Rafe would be returning in 24 hours and who knew how long it would be before you saw JJ again in the manner you preferred.

“...and believe it or not, JJ is claiming he can’t make it that weekend. What could he possibly have to do,” Sarah scoffed, and you finally looked at her again.

You suspected why in your head, but naturally you kept it to yourself.

“Hey, do you wanna come over tonight? With Rafe gone with our dad, I can actually invite my friends over without apologizing on behalf of him every thirty minutes.”

Her proposal came the same time Kiara brought your food out, and you struggled to turn her down.

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” you sadly told her, hating the way her face fell. “I have some things to take care of at my house.”

The blonde eyed you, and you took your food with a smile thrown Kie’s way.

“Is that for real? Or is this about Rafe? I swear this time it’ll just be us girls, and they miss hanging out with you. Right?”

She looked to the brunette behind the counter, and when you glanced at her too, Kie was sending you a small smile.

“Yeah, you should come.”

Her tone and gaze was welcome enough, but there was something about the way Kie looked at you that felt off. You sighed, hating to turn them down.

“I really have something to do,” you assured them. “I have no doubt that Rafe will be going out of town with Ward again, so next time. I promise.”

You gave Sarah a hug, squeezing her extra tight as an apology, and you waved Kie goodbye. You left without another glance at JJ no matter how much you wanted to, and you were almost to your car when you heard your name being called. The sound of Kie’s voice was surprising, but you turned to face her nonetheless.

Like inside, you couldn't place the expression on her face.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Her tone was light, and nothing on her face contradicted that, but something about her question sparked worry in you. You blinked, a bit thrown—because what could Kiara possibly want to talk to you about—but you gave her a nod.

“Yeah, sure,” you said with a shrug.

She almost looked like she hadn’t expected you to say yes, and you understood it. You guys weren’t exactly close. Friendly, but not quite friends. You watched her tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear, lips parting as she seemed to be struggling with how to start.

“I…don’t even know if I should be doing this,” she breathed, and at that, you frowned.

She swiped her tongue between her lips.

“...but JJ is my best friend and…”

At that, your heart sank, doubly unsure and worried for what she was about to say. Kie swallowed, gaze soft as her eyes met yours.

“I don’t know what exactly is going on between you two…” you felt your blood run cold. “...and I don’t know exactly how long it’s been going on…but it’s not fair to him.”

At first, you thought the him in question was Rafe, but the longer you stared at each other, understanding filled you. Your chest felt tight as you looked away, softly exhaling.

“Look, there’s no need to freak out because I’m 100% positive I’m the only one who knows,” she assured you. “...and that’s only because I’m the only one JJ talks to about you.”

You knew that. She’d told you at Midsummers, after all.

“I see the look in his eyes when he talks about you,” she whispered. “I hear what he sounds like when he talks about you—I see the way he looks at you, and it’s only because of that that I see the way you look at him.”

You finally met her gaze again.

“...but you’re never going to leave Rafe.”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut…because they were true. Truer than she even knew.

“...and JJ’s so…” her words trailed off with a light scoff. “You took him by surprise. You’re sweet and polite and the complete opposite of Rafe, and I know what he’s thinking.”

Kie shrugged.

“...because I’ve thought it myself. JJ would be so much better for you. He’d be really good for you…but you’re never going to leave him. Are you?” she asked after some time.

When you blinked, you were surprised to feel a few tears skip down your cheeks, and you avoided her gaze.

“Kie it’s…it’s complicated,” you finally choked out, wrapping your arm around yourself.

“I don’t doubt that,” she laughed. “Trust, I believe that a relationship with Rafe Cameron is every bit as complicated as you say it is, but that doesn’t make this any more fair for JJ.”

An uncharacteristic stab of anger tore through you, and you stared her down, jaw clenching.

“Why aren’t you having this conversation with JJ? Why me?”

She looked at you like it was supposed to be obvious, a frown between her brows.

“...because he’s never going to leave you.”

You sharply inhaled at that.

“Despite how unfair this is to him and despite the fact that he’s forever going to be some dirty little secret and despite the fact that Rafe would probably run him down if he found out, JJ’s not leaving you. We both know that,” she sadly told you.

You didn’t have anything to say to that, and you struggled to swallow. Everything that Kie was saying was right…and you absolutely hated it. Sneaking around with JJ was fun and dreaming of a future with him was fun, but realistically? The small sliver of hope that you had about getting out of this relationship with Rafe was dwindling by the minute. Suppose you did get out unscathed…it wouldn’t remain that way.

The moment you even thought of stepping out with JJ would be the end of both you and him, and it suddenly hit you that you couldn’t even fathom making JJ go through that. The only way you’d ever be truly free of Rafe was if he were behind bars, and with daddy’s money, the only chance of that happening was if he ever killed someone.

…and that someone was likely to be you.

“Look, I’m not saying all of this to be a bitch, and you probably think I am a bitch, right now, but I like you, Y/N. I really do, and I like you for JJ…but this isn’t fair to him, and you know it.”

You turned away from her with a heaving chest, and more tears spilled over just as a familiar voice reached you both. JJ said something to her that you didn’t catch, too busy staring off into the distance as the gravity of her words hit you. When JJ called your name, you didn’t answer.

You only noticed that Kie was making her way back inside when he forced you to look at him. With one look at your face, his entire expression dropped.

“Hey,” JJ softly said to you. “What’s wrong? Is it Rafe?”

You could only shake your head.

When he reached for your face, you backed away from him, your back grazing your car. Your eyes kept roaming around, your throat and chest feeling so tight. When JJ reached for the keys in your hand, you tightened your hold.

“Let me drive you back home. I’m coming over anyway-.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you mumbled.

There was a brief pause.

“You can’t drive like this-.”

“No, I don’t think…I don’t think you should come over,” you forced out.

It was some time before you looked at JJ again, and when you did, he was only staring at you with a frown. His lips opened and closed, seemingly struggling to put his thoughts into words before his face went blank altogether. He stared at you for a few seconds before his gaze found The Wreck and back. When he spoke again, his voice was hard, tone icy.

“What did Kie say to you?”

You shook your head, silently crying.

“Nothing that wasn’t true.”

JJ grabbed your arms, and you pushed him away.

“Y/N-.”

“I have to go,” you choked out, hurrying to the driver’s side with JJ on your heels.

You ignored him every time he said your name, and when you slid into your car, he prevented you from closing the door.

“I’m going to call you. Alright? I know Kie probably said some things to you that you think you need to take seriously, but she doesn’t know the whole story, you have to remember that,” he firmly told you, his hand on your cheek.

JJ made you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lip.

“She doesn’t know the truth, she doesn’t understand. Do not listen to her. Okay…?”

JJ was pleading with you, his gaze crazed and desperate, and despite the nod you gave him, you knew in your heart that you already were.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron #obx imagine #jj maybank imagine #rafe cameron imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks imagine

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pbaz7 · 8 hours ago

Text

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART TWELVE

paige x azzi

warning: suggestive content

word count: 6.6k

A/N: Here’s the awaited bet outcome that everyone was looking for 😭. Also don’t kill me for the end I didn’t wanna go into too much detail because that’ll be happening a bit next chapter.

—————————————————————————

The room was shrouded in complete darkness, the curtains drawn tight against the morning light. Azzi was draped over Paige, her head tucked into the crook of her neck as they slept soundly, the blankets tangled around them. The only sound was the occasional soft hum of the heater in the corner of the room.

A faint buzzing broke the silence, growing louder as Azzi stirred. Her phone vibrated insistently on the dresser, pulling her reluctantly from sleep. Groaning softly, Azzi tried to peel herself away from Paige, who let out a sleepy grumble at the disruption.

The roads outside of campus had been bad enough to warrant canceling classes for the day, leaving the two of them with no obligations for the day and every reason to sleep in. Paige, who rarely let herself enjoy lazy mornings, had been dead to the world since last night.

Azzi reached for the phone blindly, barely opening her eyes as she brought it to her ear. Without glancing at the screen, she answered, her voice thick with sleep. “Hello?”

Paige shifted beneath her, burrowing closer into the warmth of the blankets. “Az,” she mumbled, her voice muffled. “Turn it off.”

Azzi rubbed her face with her free hand, blinking blearily. “M’sorry baby,” she whispered into the phone, her other hand moving to gently stroke Paige’s hair in an attempt to soothe her.

From the other end of the line, Elle’s cheery voice replied, “Good morning, Azzi.”

Azzi blinked again, her brain sluggishly connecting the voice to a face. “Oh, hey,” she said, her tone still groggy but polite as she adjusted her position. Carefully, she shifted Paige so she was resting on Azzi’s chest, her fingers threading through Paige’s messy blonde hair.

Paige hummed softly at the touch, her grumpiness fading as she relaxed against Azzi.

“I know we talked about meeting in the library after class,” Elle began, her tone light but hopeful. “But with classes canceled, I wanted to check in and see what time you’d like to meet up instead to finish the project?”

Azzi tried to keep her voice low, whispering in response. “Uh… I think maybe… around two?”

“What was that?” Elle asked, her voice apologetic but curious. “I didn’t catch it.”

Azzi sighed softly, glancing down at Paige, whose steady breathing indicated she was teetering on the edge of sleep again. “Sorry,” Azzi said, still whispering. “Pai…my girlfriend is asleep, and I don’t want to wake her up. I’ll just text you.”

There was a slight pause before Elle answered, a hint of disappointment in her tone. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

“Thanks,” Azzi said quickly, her voice kind but clipped as she ended the call. She put the phone back on the dresser, careful not to let it vibrate again as she put it on do not disturb.

Her hand returned to Paige’s hair, her fingers moving in slow, calming strokes. Paige sighed contentedly, her body sinking deeper into Azzi’s hold.

“See? All good,” Azzi murmured softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Paige’s head.

Paige mumbled something incoherent in response, already drifting back to sleep. Azzi smiled, her own eyes fluttering shut as the quiet of the room settled around them once more.

…

Later that day, after they’d woken up, brushed their teeth, and taken a long, warm shower together, they’d ended up right back in bed. The morning had melted into the early afternoon as they laid around, playfully rolling across the sheets, teasing each other, play fighting and stealing kisses in between laughs.

Azzi finally reached for her phone again, feeling Paige’s weight against her back as she stretched across the bed to grab it from the dresser. The screen lit up with a string of notifications, all from Elle.

Azzi groaned softly as she fell back onto the mattress, letting her phone rest on her chest. Paige, who had been half-draped over her, raised an eyebrow at the sound. “What’s all that about?” she asked, a smile already tugging at her lips.

Azzi didn’t answer right away, scrolling through the messages. All of them were about the project, each more enthusiastic than the last.

Elle (Comms Class): Hey, just checking in!

Elle (Comms Class) Let me know what time works for you.

Elle (Comms Class): I thought of some new angles we could take!

Elle (Comms Class): We can even work through it together later if that’s easier for you :)

Azzi groaned again, tossing the phone onto the bed and dramatically flopping over to bury her face in Paige’s stomach.

Paige laughed, her fingers immediately threading through Azzi’s hair. “What’s up with you?” she teased, looking a little too smug.

Without lifting her head, Azzi mumbled against her skin, “You’re gonna win the bet.”

Paige blinked, then broke into a wide grin. “Oh, am I?” she asked, her tone delightful. “She cracking already?”

Azzi sighed, finally looking up at Paige, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and resignation. “She sent me like… five messages. All about the project. And she’s way too enthusiastic for someone who’s supposed to just want to work.”

Paige leaned back, her grin growing. “I told you! Puppy with a bone.”

Azzi groaned, dropping her head back onto Paige’s lap. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered.

Paige hummed, pretending to think. “Ridiculous? Or predictable? You’re gorgeous Az can’t really blame her.”

“Ridiculous,” Azzi insisted, though her voice lacked conviction. She peeked up at Paige, whose smirk had only grown.

“Well,” Paige said, her voice dripping with mischief. “At least now I get to put her in her place.”

Azzi sat up immediately, shaking her head. “Noo, Paige.”

“Oh, come on,” Paige whined, scooting closer. “I’ll be subtle. Just a little something to remind her that you’re taken.”

Azzi gave her an exasperated look. “Your version of ‘subtle’ isn’t subtle at all.”

Paige shrugged, clearly unfazed. “You didn’t say I couldn’t have fun with it.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you love it and me,” Paige said back, leaning in to steal a quick kiss before Azzi could respond.

Azzi tried to look annoyed, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re lucky I do,” she murmured, shaking her head as Paige grinned victoriously.

A little later, around 2 PM, Azzi and Paige were driving toward the library. Well, Paige was driving. Azzi had somehow convinced her, claiming she didn’t have gas in her car.

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” Paige had said when Azzi first brought it up. “I filled it up last time I drove it.”

Azzi shrugged with a sheepish grin, leaning against the doorframe of Paige’s room. “Okay, but I don’t feel like driving today.”

Despite the obvious fib, Paige had rolled her eyes and grabbed her keys, muttering, “You owe me,” before heading for the door.

Now, as they pulled up in front of the library, Paige slowed the car to a stop, catching sight of Elle standing outside near the entrance. She was bundled up in a coat, shifting on her feet and clearly scanning the parking lot.

Paige let out a laugh, leaning back in her seat. “Oh, no way. She’s actually waiting out here for you?”

Azzi groaned, reaching over to punch Paige lightly on the arm. “Shut up,” she muttered, though her cheeks were already beginning to flush.

Paige raised an eyebrow, her smirk smug as ever. “I mean, I knew she was into you, but this? This is dedication. It’s freezing out there.”

“Paige,” Azzi warned, though her voice lacked bite.

Paige leaned over the center console, still grinning. “Should I wait out here to, you know, make sure she doesn’t steal you away?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but instead of answering, she leaned closer, brushing a quick kiss to Paige’s lips. “No need. You’re stuck with me,” she said, her tone playful.

Paige smiled against the kiss, her fingers brushing over Azzi’s hand for a fleeting second. “Good,” she murmured, her voice low.

Azzi smirked as she pulled back and reached for the door handle. “You’re still annoying,” she muttered before stepping out.

“I love you too beautiful,” Paige called after her, still grinning.

As Azzi shut the door, Paige caught the flush on her cheeks, and when Elle beamed brightly, waving enthusiastically, Paige chuckled to herself, murmuring under her breath, “Puppy with a bone.”

…

As they settled into a quiet corner of the library, Azzi quickly pulled out her laptop and project notes, trying to set a professional tone from the start. She hated losing bets to Paige, and even more, she hated uncomfortable situations like this one—Elle clearly had an agenda.

The two of them worked diligently for a while, not making much small talk but eventually that wasn’t enough for Elle.

“So,” Elle began, scooting her chair slightly closer to Azzi, “you mentioned your girlfriend yesterday. What’s she like?”

Azzi didn’t look up from her screen. “She’s amazing,” she replied simply, keeping her focus on the document in front of her.

Elle tilted her head, her smile curious. “Amazing how? Like, what does she do? What’s she into?”

Azzi sighed internally, but her tone remained polite. “Um she’s talented, smart, funny. She’s into a lot of random things—sports mostly.”

Elle nodded, as if absorbing the information, before leaning forward slightly. “And what does she look like? Is she as tall as you? Blonde? Brunette?”

Azzi paused, her fingers hovering over her keyboard. “Why do you want to know?” she asked lightly, glancing up at Elle.

“Oh, I’m just curious,” Elle brushed off the question with a laugh, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “You’re so private, Azzi. Being your friend is like a little mystery, and I’m just trying to put the pieces together.”

Azzi chuckled softly, hoping to deflect. “She’s beautiful, that’s all you really need to know.”

Elle raised an eyebrow, clearly dissatisfied with the vague answer. “You’re not giving me much to work with here,” she teased, her tone playful.

Azzi smiled but didn’t respond, turning her attention back to the project. She could feel Elle’s eyes on her, but she refused to engage further.

“So,” Elle said after a brief moment, her voice dropping slightly, “does she ever get jealous? You know, with how much time you spend with Paige?”

Azzi stiffened but kept her expression neutral. “No, she doesn’t.” She replied, her tone firm but calm.

Elle leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing slightly as if assessing Azzi’s vague answer. “That’s good. Trust is important. But, I mean… Paige is Paige Bueckers. Gotta be a little intimidating. She’s gorgeous, funny, kinda has this natural charm and the two of you are, like, always together. Doesn’t she ever… wonder?”

Azzi clenched her jaw but forced herself to stay composed. “She doesn’t have to wonder,” she said evenly.

Elle didn’t seem deterred, her smile turning a little sly. “Hmm. That’s good to hear. I mean, if I were your girlfriend, I’d definitely be keeping an eye on Paige. She’s… a lot of competition.”

Azzi laughed lightly at this comment, shaking her head at the irony. “Paige isn’t competition. She’s just Paige.”

Elle leaned forward again, resting her chin on her hand. “Well, your girlfriend’s a lucky woman. I’m sure she knows that.”

Azzi ignored Elle clearly trying to flirt instead focusing on her notes. “Thanks,” she said curtly, hoping to steer the conversation back to their work with her short answer.

Elle didn’t seem to get the hint. “So, what about Paige?” she asked, shifting gears. “What’s she like? You two seem so close—I mean, it’s like you can read each other’s minds or something.”

Azzi hesitated, glancing at Elle before replying. “Paige is just Paige. She’s a great person.”

“And does your girlfriend like her?” Elle asked, her tone casual but probing.

Azzi’s patience was wearing thin. “She doesn’t mind Paige,” she said, her voice clipped.

Elle tilted her head, her smile turning almost a little weird. “That’s surprising. I’d definitely be a little… territorial.”

Azzi finally set her pen down, meeting Elle’s gaze directly. “Elle,” she said firmly, “I really appreciate your interest, but I’d rather not talk about my personal life anymore. Let’s just focus on the project.”

Elle blinked, looking momentarily taken aback. “Oh,” she said, her tone quieter now. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I was just curious, that’s all. Just trying to get to know you.”

“It’s fine,” Azzi said, softening her tone slightly to ease the tension. “Let’s just get this done.”

Elle nodded, but the energy between them had shifted. Azzi could feel the tension lingering as they worked in relative silence, though Elle still stole a glance at her every now and then.

Elle's attempts to push boundaries had slowed as the project progressed, but her curiosity hadn't completely dissipated. As Azzi suggested changes to their presentation, Elle’s eyes lingered on her, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

“You’re really good at this,” Elle remarked, her voice light, but there was an edge of something else in her tone. “I can see why someone would… want to be around you all the time.”

Azzi glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly. “Thanks…”

Elle shrugged, her gaze still focused on Azzi, though her smile remained playful. “Just… you’re easy to talk to. You have this calm vibe, you know? Your girlfriend’s lucky to have you.”

Azzi paused for a second, her thoughts flashing to Paige. She couldn’t deny that she had let her guard down a little more in this moment thinking Elle stopped her questioning, but she quickly regained her focus, her smile polite. “I’m sure she’d say the same.”

Elle leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she continued, “You know, you’re really different than I thought. I thought you’d be... harder to approach. You know basketball player and all but you’re actually kind of fun to be around.”

Azzi responds to the compliment in a neutral tone, “Thanks I appreciate the compliment.”

Elle beamed at Azzi's words, but her smile lingered a little too long, almost too eager. “I’m glad you noticed,” she said, her voice dropping slightly. “I feel like I’ve been trying to get you to notice my compliments for weeks..”

Azzi blinked, her stomach tightening as Elle moved a little closer, leaning in with an expression that was far too intense for comfort. Azzi's heart rate quickened, and she immediately leaned back in her chair, her hands raised defensively.

“What the hell are you doing?” Azzi’s voice came out more curt than she intended, her tone laced with a tinge of irritation.

Elle froze, caught off guard by Azzi’s sudden withdrawal. Her face faltered for just a moment before she quickly composed herself, her voice softening. “I’m sorry... I thought—I thought maybe I was picking up on a vibe. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Azzi let out a sharp breath, running a hand through her hair. She could feel her frustration rising. “Elle, I have a girlfriend,” she said, her voice firmer than before, but still holding some restraint. “I’m not interested in... whatever that was. I love my girlfriend very much and I’m sorry if I maybe gave you the wrong idea.”

Elle’s face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. “I really didn’t mean to overstep. I just... I guess I got carried away,” Elle admitted, her voice quieter now. “I respect you, Azzi. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Azzi could see the sincerity in Elle’s eyes, but it didn’t make her feel any less upset. She sighed, rubbing her temples before shifting to the opposite side of the table, putting more space between them. “We’re here to work on this project. Nothing more. Let’s just focus on that,” she said, her tone softer but still firm.

Elle nodded quickly, retreating into herself as she sat back in her chair, clearly feeling the weight of the moment. Azzi, on the other hand, needed something to distract her from the awkward tension. So she grabbed her phone and sent a text to Paige.

💗: Hey can you come to the library?

💗: Not done yet, but I might need you to come sit here while we finish.

Azzi stared at the message she’d just sent, her phone still in her hand as she waited for Paige’s response.

A second later, her phone buzzed, Paige’s name flashing across the screen.

P 💗: Yeah of course

P 💗: You good?

Azzi smiled at the message, feeling a rush of warmth in her chest.

💗: I’m good

💗: Just miss you

It didn’t take long for Paige’s reply to come through.

💗P : I miss you too baby

💗P: Something’s wrong though I can tell

💗P: What happened Az?

She paused, chewing her lip slightly as she typed the next message. She knew Paige wasn’t going to be as cordial with Elle attempting to move past a little flirting. Still Azzi typed out the message with a small sigh.

💗: You won.

Paige’s reply came almost immediately, full of curiosity.

P💗: How?

Azzi leaned back in her chair, briefly glancing over at Elle, who was seemingly working not making eye contact with Azzi.

💗: She tried to kiss me

She sent the message and stared at her phone, feeling a mix of annoyance and discomfort at the memory. A slight pause followed as she waited for Paige's response and she waited anxiously for the reply knowing how Paige could be.

Then, finally, Paige's reply popped up.

P 💗: I’m omw

Azzi smiled a little, her mood lifting at the thought of Paige coming. But she also knew Paige wasn’t going to be happy when she walked in so she tried to silently prepare for that as she got back to work.

…

When Paige walked into the library, the tension in the air was still thick. Elle quickly pieced together that she’d made a mistake when she saw Paige. The moment her eyes met Paige's, a tightness settled between them.

Paige greeted her with a stiff not, her body language showing she wasn’t happy. "Wassup," she said, her voice cold.

Paige moved towards Azzi, her body language shifting completely as she closed the distance between them. With a soft laugh in her voice, she bent down to Azzi’s ear, her breath warm against her skin as she whispered, “Hey, pretty girl.” The words lingered between them for a moment, the intimacy clear. Paige’s lips brushed Azzi's ear for a split second before she pulled back, handing Azzi a green smoothie she got for her.

Azzi smiled softly, her heart fluttering at the simple gesture, the kindness in Paige’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm with affection.

Paige’s eyes softened in return, but there was an undeniable edge to her smile—a quiet assertion of possessiveness, perhaps, but also a deep sense of care. As she straightened up, Paige’s eyes flicked toward Elle, and though her face remained calm, the faintest hint of warning was evident. She moved to the chair next to Azzi, sitting much closer than usual, their thighs touching. The library was empty aside from the three of them, and the space felt more intimate, charged with a quiet tension.

Paige pulled out her phone, her arm casually draping over the back of Azzi’s chair. The move was on purpose, a light weight that signaled her presence and her claim over the space around them. She didn’t even give a fuck about the bet anymore, she just didn’t want Azzi around Elle and was more upset about her audacity than anything.

About 15 minutes later, Azzi and Elle continued working, only exchanging words here and there when necessary.

Azzi shivered slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. Paige immediately noticed and glanced over. Without a word, she pulled off her hoodie and handed it to Azzi, leaving herself in a snug-fitting black t-shirt that clung to her toned frame and her silver cross glistening from the light.

“Here,” Paige said simply, smirking as she caught the way Azzi’s eyes lingered on her arms and shoulders. Azzi’s gaze flicked to Paige’s neck too, where marks still lingered from the night before. Azzi swallowed hard, her cheeks turning pink as her eyes darted back to the project in front of her.

“Thanks,” Azzi murmured, slipping the hoodie over her head. It was one of Paige’s oversized hoodies and Paige had to bite back a grin at how adorable she looked in it.

Elle, on the other hand, hadn’t missed the exchange. Her eyes flicked between the two of them, narrowing slightly when Paige casually draped her arm over the back of Azzi’s chair again, her smirk growing more pronounced.

“Everything okay over there?” Paige asked, her tone light but with an edge that made Elle’s shoulders stiffen.

Azzi shot Paige a look, her expression both amused and exasperated. She leaned closer and whispered teasingly, “You’re enjoying this too much.”

Paige’s smirk widened. “I haven’t even started,” she whispered back, low enough that only Azzi could hear.

Elle cleared her throat again, awkwardly shifting in her seat. “We should probably move on to the next section,” she said, trying to regain some control over the situation.

“Good idea,” Azzi replied, pulling her focus back to the project. But the way her fingers absently toyed with the hem of Paige’s hoodie gave away just how much the interaction had flustered her.

Paige leaned back in her chair, clearly satisfied, and caught Elle sneaking another glance at her. Paige raised a brow silently challenging her to say something.

…

As soon as Elle disappeared to the bathroom, Paige turned her full attention to Azzi, having an idea on how to make this fun for herself. She leaned over, her hand slipping under Azzi’s chin to gently tilt her head up, forcing her to look into her blue eyes. Once Azzi was looking at her, she wrapped her hand firmly around her neck. Not tightly, but enough to make her intentions clear. Azzi’s breath hitched at the surprising contact but she leaned into the touch, her eyes lowering a little.

“Azzi you got me sitting here, playing nice with somebody who tried to kiss you,” Paige said, her voice low and brimming with a little possessiveness. Her thumb brushed against Azzi’s throat as she leaned closer, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s.

“P-Paige, I—” Azzi started, but her words died as Paige pressed her thumb a little firmer against her pulse point, her gaze a little dark.

“Shh,” Paige cut her off, her voice dangerously soft now. “You’re lucky I love you. I’m calm right now but I promise imma deal with you for all this later.” Her lips curled into a smirk as she added, “You’ll be lucky if you can even walk to practice tomorrow.”

Azzi’s body betrayed her completely, her cheeks flushing and a soft whimper escaping her lips at this side of her girlfriend. Paige tilted her head, taking in every inch of Azzi’s reaction, savoring the way her girlfriend’s chest rose and fell with uneven breaths just from her talking to her.

“Look at you,” Paige murmured, her voice thick with teasing satisfaction. “You like this, don’t you? Knowing I’m upset, knowing exactly what I’ll do about it later.”

Azzi nodded slightly, biting her lip, unable to meet Paige’s gaze as her body reacted instinctively. Paige’s smirk deepened as she dipped her head, brushing her lips against Azzi’s ear.

“I’ll make sure everybody can hear who you belong to,” Paige whispered, her teeth grazing Azzi’s earlobe before pulling back slightly.

Before Azzi could fully process what Paige had said, the blonde captured her lips in a deep kiss. Paige’s tongue slid against Azzi’s, and she bit gently at her lower lip, tugging it before pulling back slightly. Azzi let out a soft, involuntary sound, her hands gripping Paige’s biceps.

“You like that, don’t you baby?” Paige murmured, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she spoke. Azzi immediately nodded, biting her lip.

“Mm I know you do.” She leaned back just enough to smirk at Azzi, licking her lips as if savoring the moment.

Azzi’s hands tightened their grip on Paige’s arm, and her gaze darkened with desire.

Azzi whimpered again when Paige abruptly released her neck, the sudden loss of contact making her feel unsteady. She immediately crossed her legs, her thighs pressing together as her need for Paige became overwhelming. “P-Paige baby…” she started, her voice barely audible.

Paige leaned back in her seat, cool and composed, a smug smirk playing on her lips as she watched Azzi squirm. “You look good in my clothes,” Paige said casually, grabbing her phone as if nothing had happened, though the satisfied glint in her eyes told a different story.

Elle returned seconds later and she froze briefly, immediately sensing the shift in the room. Azzi was flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and her movements jittery as she tried to focus on her computer. Paige, however, sat back confidently, her arm thrown over the back of Azzi’s chair.

Every time Elle glanced at Paige, she was met with an icy stare that made her shrink in her seat. Meanwhile, Paige occasionally leaned into Azzi, brushing her fingers along her arm or muttering something low in her ear that made Azzi blush even more.

Azzi couldn’t stop herself. She was practically glued to Paige now, leaning into her touch and craving every bit of her attention. Her hand rested on Paige’s thigh, fingers playing with the string of her sweats. Paige smirked, leaning down to whisper something softly into Azzi’s ear, her warm breath tickling her skin.

“You’re so obvious, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice low and teasing. “She can see how desperate you are for me.”

Azzi bit her lip, her cheeks burning as her hand instinctively tightened on Paige’s thigh. Paige didn’t stop there, sliding her fingers along the back of Azzi’s neck, letting her nails lightly graze the skin. “Careful, Az,” Paige whispered again, her blue eyes locking with Elle’s as she spoke. “You don’t wanna struggle too much in front of company.”

Elle, who had been trying to focus on the laptop in front of her, couldn’t miss the way Azzi seemed to melt under Paige’s touch. Every time Paige leaned in, Azzi’s body instinctively tilted toward her, and her breath hitched just slightly.

At one point, Azzi’s gaze drifted to Paige’s neck, her eyes locking on the simple silver cross necklace that rested against her collarbone. She barely registered the conversation happening around her as her mind wandered, imagining the necklace dangling above her, its chain brushing against her skin as Paige—

“Azzi?”

Elle’s voice startled her out of her daydream, and Azzi blinked, sitting up straighter. “Huh?” she asked, flustered.

Elle raised an eyebrow and gestured to the laptop. “I was asking if you liked the second-to-last slide.”

Azzi blinked again, her mind scrambling to catch up. “Oh, um, yeah. Looks good,” she said quickly, her voice slightly shaky.

Paige smirked beside her, clearly amused. “Distracted, Az?” she asked teasingly, her fingers now brushing along the inside of Azzi’s wrist.

Azzi shot her a look, equal parts pleading and frustrated, but Paige was relentless. She leaned in again, her lips barely brushing Azzi’s ear. “I know what you were thinking about,” Paige whispered. “And you’re not subtle at all.”

Azzi sighed softly, shifting in her seat. Paige chuckled, sitting back and glancing at Elle, whose expression was a mixture of confusion and discomfort. It was impossible to miss the way Azzi was practically falling apart under Paige’s touch.

“You okay, Azzi?” Elle asked, her tone cautious.

“Fine,” Azzi managed, her voice slightly breathless as she tried to focus on the laptop.

Paige smirked again, resting her hand on Azzi’s lower back, her thumb brushing in soothing circles. “She’s fine,” Paige said smoothly, though her satisfied smirk told a different story.

Elle, at this point, didn’t need any more hints. The dynamic between Paige and Azzi was painfully obvious, and the tension in the room was suffocating for her.

…

Finally, Elle and Azzi were wrapping up the last details of their project. Azzi was practically in Paige's lap, her body angled toward the blonde, legs crossed tightly. Paige, meanwhile, looked completely at ease, scrolling casually on her phone with one arm draped across the back of Azzi's chair. Her fingers traced lazy circles against Azzi’s neck, the intimate gesture sending shivers down her spine.

“Azzi,” Elle said, trying to sound neutral, “do you want to come over here so we can go through the final slides together?”

Azzi hesitated, glancing up at Paige. Her lips parted as if she was about to speak, but Paige’s hand subtly tightened around the back of her neck, the slight pressure sending a clear message. Paige didn’t even bother looking up from her phone, her grip firm yet calm, as if she was entirely in control of the situation.

That was all the answer Azzi needed. She smiled politely at Elle. “You can just come around to this side,” she said softly, her voice warm but decisive.

Elle hesitated but reluctantly stood, pulling her chair around to their side of the table. From this angle, she could see just how close they were: Paige’s fingers never leaving Azzi’s neck, Azzi’s posture subtly leaning into Paige.

Elle swallowed hard, her discomfort growing at her earlier actions as she slid her chair to the edge of the table. She placed her laptop down awkwardly, her eyes darting between the screen and the two women in front of her. Azzi, who was usually confident and self-assured, seemed softer now, her entire demeanor more pliant in Paige’s presence.

Paige finally glanced up, her blue eyes meeting Elle’s with a flicker of amusement before returning to her phone. The unspoken dominance in her gaze made Elle’s stomach knot, and she quickly focused back on the laptop, pretending not to notice the way Azzi shifted even closer to Paige as if seeking more of her touch.

“So, um, this is the final draft,” Elle said, clearing her throat as she pointed to the screen. “We can tweak the layout a bit if you think it’s necessary.”

Azzi nodded, her attention split between the project and the way Paige’s thumb started brushing slow strokes against the nape of her neck.

“It looks good,” Azzi replied, her voice soft and slightly distracted.

Paige smiled faintly, her eyes flickering toward Azzi for a brief moment before she leaned back in her chair, Elle, trying to keep her focus, couldn’t shake the feeling that she had stepped into a space where she didn’t belong.

Paige’s hand, which had been resting comfortably on Azzi’s neck, began to drift downward. Without breaking her relaxed demeanor, Paige let her hand trail along Azzi’s arm and then down to her thigh. The movement was deliberate, her fingers brushing just high enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch slightly. Azzi instinctively placed her hand over Paige’s, gripping it tightly as if to plead her to not move.

Elle caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, her gaze dropping briefly to where Paige’s hand rested. Her face flushed deeply, but she quickly looked away, pretending to refocus on the laptop in front of her.

As the project wrapped up and Azzi began gathering her things, she reached for the hem of Paige’s hoodie. “Here,” Azzi said softly, tugging at the fabric. “Take this back. I don’t want you to get cold.”

Paige gave her a look, standing up and brushing off the concern with ease. “It’s fine, Az. We’re just walking to the car,” she said. Her eyes warm as she glanced down at Azzi.

Azzi hesitated for a moment, but the softness of Paige’s gaze was enough to make her relent. She tugged the hoodie closer around her instead, smiling shyly.

Elle cleared her throat awkwardly, standing up from her chair and adjusting her bag. She glanced at Azzi, then at Paige, who was now fully aware of her presence.

“I just...” Elle started, her voice faltering slightly. She shifted her weight nervously. “I didn’t know. About the two of you, together…I mean.” She looked between them again, her gaze lingering on Paige’s calm but intimidating posture. “I never would’ve tried anything if I knew it was you Paige. I’m sorry.”

Paige didn’t say anything, her sharp blue eyes just looking at Elle. The corner of her mouth twitched, almost as if she was considering a response, but she chose instead to look at Azzi, who nodded slightly in acknowledgment of the apology.

“It’s fine,” Azzi said simply, her tone soft but firm enough to close the conversation. She just wanted to get the hell out of this library.

With that, they packed up the rest of their things. As they exited the library, Paige reached for Azzi’s bag, taking it off her shoulder with ease and slinging it over her own as she threw her free arm around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her into her side as they walked out together. Azzi leaned into Paige naturally, her body relaxed against her as they made their way to the car.

…

As soon as they stepped into Azzi’s room, the door barely clicked shut before Azzi grabbed Paige by the shirt, pushing her firmly against it. Her lips crashed against Paige’s, her kiss full of pent-up frustration and desire.

Paige chuckled softly against Azzi’s mouth, the sound infuriatingly relaxed, as if she had all the time in the world. She kissed Azzi back lazily, her hands resting on Azzi’s hips.

Azzi huffed, breaking the kiss with a glare. She turned, grabbing the nearest pillow, and launched it at Paige. “What you did wasn’t funny.”

Paige caught the pillow effortlessly, her expression smug as she leaned back against the door. “I thought it was.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, her frustration only growing. “I’ve wanted to rip your clothes off for the past hour,” she snapped, her voice low and breathy.

Paige’s smirk deepened. She pushed off the door and crossed the room to the bed, flopping onto it nonchalantly. She propped herself up on her elbows, throwing her arms lazily behind her head. “Then do it,” she said, her tone a simple challenge, her blue eyes gleaming.

Azzi froze for a moment, her breath hitching as she took in the sheer audacity of Paige’s composure. The blonde looked entirely unbothered, her sharp gaze fixed on Azzi as if she were testing her.

That was all it took to push Azzi over the edge. Her steps were deliberate as she moved toward the bed. Paige calmly sat up and tugged her black shirt over her head, revealing the toned frame that had been teasing Azzi all afternoon.

Azzi climbed onto the bed, straddling Paige’s hips as her hand found their way to the blonde’s neck, her thumb brushing along Paige’s skin.

But Paige didn’t falter. She didn’t react beyond the faintest quirk of her lips, her eyes steady and challenging as she gazed up at Azzi. Her relaxed posture, combined with the way her gaze seemed to expect more, was maddening.

“I’ll let you go first,” Paige said smoothly, her voice low and dripping with confidence. “Because I promise, Az, you won’t be able to move when I’m done.”

The words sent a flush of warmth through Azzi, but she refused to outwardly react, instead taking them as a challenge. Her hand tightened slightly around Paige’s neck, her nails grazing her skin. Paige’s jaw tensed in response, the faintest crack in her nonchalance. Yet, she held her ground, her gaze locked on Azzi with a quiet, unyielding intensity.

Azzi leaned closer, her voice dropping to a soft whisper as she murmured, “Paige, baby,” drawing out the last word just enough to hit Paige’s sweet spot.

A flicker of something deeper crossed Paige’s features, her lips parting slightly as she let out a low, “Hmm.” The faint sound was both a reaction and a challenge in itself, as her body eased slightly, her grip on her control loosening just enough to give Azzi what she wanted.

Azzi leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Paige’s neck, whispering words that she knew would melt through her. "You looked so good in there," she murmured, her voice tender and warm. "You always make me feel so safe... so warm." Each word was accompanied by a gentle kiss to Paige’s skin, her lips tracing a path that left a faint heat in their wake.

"I love you so much, baby," Azzi whispered, her tone laced with affection, her fingers lightly trailing along Paige’s jaw. "You love me right?” she added, her voice soft.

Paige’s eyes fluttered closed as Azzi’s words washed over her. The tension in her shoulders softened, her body responding instinctively to Azzi’s gentle persistence. Her usual control wavered, replaced by something tender as her lips curved faintly. "Of course I love you," Paige murmured back, her voice soft and sweet, a glimpse of the softness she reserved only for Azzi breaking through.

Azzi smiled against Paige’s skin, knowing she had found the cracks in her armor, and whispered, "Let me take care of you first then." Paige's lips quirked slightly, her eyes opening halfway, a glint of both affection and challenge in them. "Okay baby," she replied, her tone soft.

Azzi kissed her again, deeper this time, her hands cupping Paige’s face as she felt the last of Paige’s tension slip away. Paige let herself relax completely letting Azzi have this moment, her hands finding their way to Azzi’s waist to pull her closer.

Azzi tightened her grip on Paige’s neck, the subtle shift in her hold making Paige’s jaw flex slightly, her breath hitching in response. Azzi could feel the shift, the balance of power tilting in her favor now that she knew she had control of the situation.

She began rolling her hips into Paige’s, each movement drawing a low groan from Paige’s throat. Azzi leaned in, her lips trailing down Paige’s chest as she peppered soft kisses, teasing licks, and the occasional bite against her skin. Each touch sent sparks through Paige, her hands finding Azzi’s waist and gripping tightly, her fingers digging in as she tried to pull Azzi harder against herself.

"Azzi," Paige groaned, her voice deep and laced with frustration as her hips shifted upward, chasing more contact.

Azzi smiled against Paige’s skin, her breath warm as she murmured, "Be patient, baby."

Paige’s head tilted back against the pillows, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Azzi, "Fuck patient."

Azzi chuckled softly, the sound low as she pressed a kiss just below Paige’s collarbone, her teeth grazing the sensitive spot. "I love it when you’re like this," she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she tightened her grip on Paige’s neck once more, testing how far she would let her go.

Paige’s breath hitched, her voice coming out in a low, breathy tone. "Like what?"

Azzi looked up at her through her lashes. She licked her lips deliberately, her eyes dark with intent. "Needy," she murmured, the word hanging heavy in the air as her free hand dragged lazily down Paige’s side, sending a shiver through her.

Paige’s jaw tightened, her gaze holding Azzi’s with defiance. "I’m not going to beg," she said, her tone steady despite the flush creeping up her neck.

Azzi’s smirk widened, her grip on Paige’s neck softening as she leaned in closer. Her lips brushed against Paige’s ear, her voice a soft purr. "I won’t make you this time, baby," she whispered, her breath warm against Paige’s skin.

Without waiting for a response, Azzi began to move lower, her lips and hands tracing a path down Paige’s body, her touch lingering just enough to keep Paige on edge. Paige’s control wavered, her breathing quickening as she clenched the sheets beneath her.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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insidekatmind · 1 day ago

Text

A Return~Virgil Van Dijk

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The sun was setting behind the hills, turning the sky orange as you and your daughter sat on the couch. The little girl, with her brown curls loose, giggled as you stroked her hair, but inside you felt a knot in your stomach. Virgil was thirty minutes late. It wasn’t new, but it infuriated you every time.

“When’s daddy coming?” your daughter asked, looking up at you with those big, innocent eyes.

“Soon, honey,” you lied softly.

As you tried to hide your frustration, a sharp knock on the door made you jump. It wasn’t the gentle sound of someone knocking politely. It was a firm knock, almost impatient. You stood up, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, and went to answer the door.

Virgil Van Dijk was there, with that imposing presence and charm that had once made you lose your mind. His dark eyes were studying you, but they were cold, distant. He was wearing a black leather jacket, and his familiar scent, a mix of wood and spice, hit you like a punch in the gut.

"Hey," he said, barely a whisper. No apology. No explanation.

Behind him, a red Mustang convertible gleamed in the sunset light.

You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You're late, Virgil."

He raised an eyebrow, as if it didn't concern him in the slightest.

"It's not a problem, is it?" he said in that calm, almost mocking voice.

"It is when our daughter waits for you for half an hour."

Virgil's eyes moved past you, to the little girl who was watching from the doorway with a confused expression.

"Hi, baby," he said, smiling slightly.

The little girl ran up to him eagerly. "Daddy!"

The sight broke your heart. How could he be so cold to you, but so sweet to her?

He picked her up in his arms and kissed her cheek, then turned to you.

"Can I carry her now?"

"love go to the kitchen for a second I have to talk to your father" you say to the little girl and she nods

"Okay mommy", he said happily, leaving you alone. He lets out another smirk as he looks down on you.

"What?" he said, his arms still crossed over his chest.

you walk closer to him "don't give me that look you know what I want to say"

he responds with a chuckle, his smirk not fading from his face.

"yeah I know." he said, his voice lowering slightly as you walked closer to him. "what do you want?"

"stop acting like that and take responsibility" you say angrily

he rolls his eyes, annoyed.

"here we go again", he said, leaning against the door frame. "it's always the same with you. And what exactly am I supposed to take responsibility for?"

you look at him in shock and move closer to him "are you seriously asking me that?" you ask angrily

his smirk fades with your answer. His irritation is now written all over his face. He lets out a huff as he looks at you.

"Of course I'm asking. I've done a lot more than you ever have." he snapped, towering over you.

you look at him in shock "oh really? and what would you have done?"

he looks at you with narrowed eyes, leaning in closer. His chest is inches away from touching you.

"I was the only one who took care of our daughter. Since we got divorced, all you did was-" he pauses, taking a breath and calming down. "I was the only one who supported her financially while you were away partying somewhere."

you look at him in shock "Don't make me look like something I'm not" you whisper angrily as you lean closer to him and you were so close

he stiffens as you get closer to him, your bodies almost touching. His gaze darkens as you get closer.

"Oh really? So tell me, what did you do then?" he said softly, lowering his head to bring his face closer to yours.

you glare at him "I take care of her, I feed her, I comfort her which you don't do" you raise your toes to get closer to his face to throw these things back at him

His jaw tightens, he clearly doesn't like what you're saying about him. He leaned in too, his breathing getting heavier as his eyes flashed.

"Bullshit. I take care of her," he snapped, his hands clenched into fists. Suddenly he put his hands on your waist, squeezing them tightly. "But at least I was the one who was actually there for her. You were too busy with parties and men to even worry about her."

"oh now I'm the one who attends the parties?" you look at him and Virgil looks at your lips

He looks down at your hands resting on his chest, as he moves even closer to you. He swallows, trying to hold it in.

“It felt like you were in on it. Especially with that bartender last week,” he says, conjuring up an old memory and holding you tighter.

“We broke up before,” you whisper, and he leans in to your lips.

“Not officially,” he says, still not letting go of the memory so easily.

He leans his face closer to yours, stopping with his lips inches from yours.

“You were mine.” He says, his voice barely a whisper. “At least you were then.”

You look at him, trying not to give in, but Virgil kisses you and picks you up, carrying you to the couch. The kiss was fiery, passionate, and held all the feelings you’ve left unsaid.

He lifts you up and places you on the couch, balanced on top of you. He leans down, hands on either side of your head as he looks down on you.

He takes a moment, admiring the view from above. He smirks, shaking his head slightly.

"God, you look so good like this," he said softly, his eyes wandering over your body.

Virgil begins to kiss your neck as you lift your dress and remove your panties. "Always so sexy," Virgil murmurs near your neck. He kisses it softly, before biting and sucking on it. He moans, and the feeling of your soft skin under his lips sends shivers down his spine.

"You're killing me, you know. This damn dress." he says, his hand stroking your bare thigh.

You moan and watch as he pulls down his jeans and boxers and enters you. You both moan as he adjusts his thick cock inside you.

"Always so fucking tight," he moans softly and pushes hard, not caring about going slow.

He moans when he feels you around him, closing his eyes and gripping your hips tightly with his hands. He lowers his head, resting it in the crook of your neck. He takes a moment, trying to calm himself.

"God, you feel so good. I've missed you so much." he murmurs and starts to push himself hard inside you again making you moan loudly.

"Virgil" you moan as you scratch his back and he moans loudly pushing himself animalistically inside you.

"Look at how you take your ex's cock, you like it yes, she was always good for me" he murmurs nibbling on your neck and you moan.

He lifts his head and looks down at you. He watches you intently, his eyes filled with desire and need.

“Holy shit, I won’t last long here,” he said, a chuckle escaping his lips as he looked down between the two of you. “You’re too damn good.”

You moan and arch up before cupping his face and kissing it. It was a sloppy kiss with tongues clashing. You moaned into the kiss as Virgil pushed himself deeper into you.

His hands grip your hips, moving you in time with his thrusts. He breaks the kiss, panting against your lips.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He said, his face scrunched up in the overwhelming pleasure.

You moan and cling to him. “Me too, baby,” you whisper, moaning.

He moans at your words, his hips now moving sporadically, the pleasure becoming too much.

"F-Fuck. Baby, I'm gonna-" he cuts himself off, throwing his head back and letting out a loud moan as he pushes his hips harder, pounding into you and you moan, cumming all over his cock.

He groans at the way you're squeezing his cock and cums inside you. Virgil rides his release, his body tensing against you. He rests his head against your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"You're going to be the death of me," he says, lifting his head to look at you. He lifts a hand to caress your face and his eyes scan your twitching body.

"I love you so much, do you know that?" he whispers. You sigh and caress his face, "yes."

He leans into your touch, smiling as you caress his face. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off you and laying next to you. He places an arm over your waist and pulls you closer to him.

“let's give it another chance” you whisper and Virgil smiled.

He looks down at you, a small, hopeful smile on his lips. "You mean that?" he said, still not entirely believing it.

He brings one of his hands up to move a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gentle against your skin.

You nod.He grins in response, the smile growing wider."I'm gonna do this right this time. I promise." he says, pulling you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you.

Hearing his words you smile and hug him. He holds you against his chest, relishing in the feeling of you in his arms.

He rests his chin atop your head, a content sigh leaving his lips. "I missed this. I missed having you in my arms." he said, pulling you closer.

“me too,” you whisper softly.

He smiles, running a hand through your hair. "I'm really sorry for how I acted before. I was an idiot. I should've tried to fix things instead of just blowing them away." he said, leaning a bit down to look at you.

“it’s ok” you whisper caressing his back. "now you're here."He smiles, his eyes closing as he feels your fingers run along his back.

"Yeah, I'm here." he said, holding you tighter against his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. I swear."

A comfortable silence wrapped around the two of you like a warm blanket, his steady heartbeat syncing with yours as you lay together. His arms, strong and protective, held you as if afraid you'd slip away, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe him.

Your fingers traced lazy patterns along his back, lingering on old scars and familiar curves. Each touch was a quiet reassurance — a promise spoken without words.

"You don’t have to swear," you murmured, your voice soft but sure. "I believe you."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. But all he found was trust — fragile, yes, but real. His lips curved into a tender smile, one that melted the walls you had built.

"I missed you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible."

You nodded, your forehead resting against his. "I missed you too. But you’re here now. That’s all that matters."

He kissed you then — slow, deliberate, and full of everything words couldn’t express. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was an unspoken vow. A promise of forever.

As he settled back into the embrace, holding you close like you were his entire world, you closed your eyes and let yourself breathe. The storm was over.

He was home.

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halorvic · 11 hours ago

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December 30, 2024

Arijit Chakravarty: “Learn to live with it,” for other diseases doesn’t mean the same thing as we have applied to COVID. When we say we must learn to live with leprosy, we don’t mean let’s make sure everybody has leprosy. When we say we must learn to live with malaria, we don’t mean let’s make sure everyone gets malaria as often as possible, let’s keep mosquitoes lurking in our tanks outside our house. No one says you must learn to live with tuberculosis. Let’s let it spread as much as possible and see how that goes. No, we suppress those diseases every step along the way. We suppress dengue. We suppress tuberculosis. This whole idea that learning to live with the disease means permitting and encouraging its rampant spread and rapid evolution is just so many levels of stupidity that I don’t have a word for it.

Benjamin Mateus: I’d like to know your thoughts on Trump and RFK Jr., his choice for secretary of health? RFK Jr. has been at the head of vaccine disinformation and anti-public health policies. They are calling for ending any cooperation with the World Health Organization. These will have immense consequences for public health globally. These are political questions, but often I hear scientists do not want to engage in political questions and feel uncomfortable about it. Can we avoid the political implications?

AC: Look, it’s not that I don’t want to get political. It’s that if I was going to get political, I don’t know who to hold up as an example. There’s not a government in the world that has handled this correctly. There’s not a party in this world that’s handled it correctly. It’s all different flavors of stupid. Pick your poison. The Democrats went out of their way to normalize mass infection. They went out of their way to lie about the vaccines and say, “If you’re vaccinated, the pandemic was over.” That was completely unnecessary. It was completely at odds with science. Then you have Trump in the first Trump administration saying, “Why don’t you drink some bleach?” It would be a comedy if the consequences weren’t so grave. Frankly, wherever you go it’s like this. You look at Canada’s Bonnie Henry (Canadian epidemiologist and physician) in British Columbia. On day one she insisted that the kids wouldn’t get infected. Then she went and published a paper, put her own name on it, bragging about how herd immunity has been achieved because 90 percent of Canadian kids have been infected. In the UK you had the hearings on the public health response by the UK government. They noted that the government failed to act quickly. There was no clear policy approach, and they even abandoned contact tracing in mid-March of 2020. They even said that masks don’t help stop the spread and the virus wasn’t airborne. It’s a disgrace. Politicians worldwide have decided that they can brazen out their way through this. And the reason for this is they’ve been advised by a certain set of scientists, a relatively small number of scientists, who have essentially sold out. There are tens of thousands of papers, if not hundreds of thousands of papers, on the risks of COVID. You could literally find thousands of scientists who would be willing to go up in front of the House of Representatives and testify that getting COVID repeatedly is bad for you. Where are those scientists? Nobody’s listening to them. They’re listening to the scientists who whisper in their ears and say that everything will be okay. Ryan Gregory and I wrote a Substack blog post a while back called Calm Mongering where we talk about this—that people have weaponized the logic of science in the service of propaganda by saying, “that’s just a hypothesis.” As soon as you bring up a risk, these “experts” shut down the conversation about the risk by saying we’re not sure that’ll happen. But in fact, that’s an inversion of the precautionary principle. And it’s a lot of the tactics that were used by the merchants of doubt during the tobacco era. The merchants of doubt were a subset of a very small number of corrupt, well-connected and well-funded scientists who went out of their way to make public statements that were at odds with the body of literature that was coming out on lung cancer and tobacco. And we are seeing the exact same thing again. Big tobacco sponsored a bunch of corrupt scientists to create a counter-narrative to reality. This time around, who’s playing the role of big tobacco? It’s the politicians and governments. But the exact same thing is playing out. That nexus between this group of corrupt scientists and politicians who are actively funding their work is a global phenomenon. Unfortunately, I hate to say this, but it’s going to take reality breaking through to solve this. They’ve been very effective at convincing people that this is not a problem you need to worry about.

#''it's all different flavours of stupid'' 💯#sars cov 2 #articles

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dulcescorderitas · 1 day ago

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Hey, how are you? I've a request for Clark Kent, where the reader is jealous and insecure about Lana, the reader is Clark's girlfriend, but she knows about the crush Clark had on Lana and the reader is jealous, and she gets a little clingy with Clark when Lana is around? Please, no smut, if you don't want to write, that's fine, I love your writing 🤍

author's note: hiii anonie! this is my first request on this account so i hope you like it!

lana's voice carries over the quiet hum of the conversation around you, light and melodic. she’s talking about her time away, the places she’s been, the things she’s seen, and you can’t help but notice how clark is leaning in, his usual polite interest written all over his face. it’s not that he’s ignoring you—not intentionally. he’s just... caught up in the moment. in her.

and that’s when the familiar prick of jealousy bubbles up again, hot and insistent. you shift closer to him, your hand slipping from where it rests in his and trailing up to his shoulder, fingers smoothing over the fabric of his shirt. you let them wander to the back of his neck, brushing gently against the skin there, right where you know he’s sensitive. the subtle contact has always been enough to get a reaction from him.

he stiffens slightly at the touch, just for a second, before relaxing into it. he glances down at you, a flicker of confusion mingled with warmth in his gaze, but you offer him a soft smile, pretending like you’re simply enjoying being close to him. which, you are. of course you are. but this isn’t just about closeness.

as lana continues to speak, oblivious to the silent exchange between you and clark, your fingers trace slow, lazy circles at the nape of his neck. you know exactly how he likes it, how your touch there can unravel him just enough. you can see it working now—the subtle way his breathing shifts, the almost imperceptible twitch of his fingers around yours.

but you don’t stop there.

your other hand, still resting on his arm, begins a slow, deliberate motion up and down his back. you press in closer, your body molding to his side like a second skin. it’s a silent declaration, one that you hope he feels as much as you do: he’s mine.

clark clears his throat, the sound soft but noticeable, his attention faltering just slightly from lana’s story. “sorry,” he mumbles, shifting on his feet. “you were saying?”

“oh, it’s nothing,” lana says with a light laugh, brushing it off like it’s no big deal. but the way her eyes flick between the two of you doesn’t go unnoticed. she sees it, doesn’t she? the way you’re clinging to him, the subtle possessiveness in your touch. does she pity you for it? or worse—does she find it amusing?

you don’t care. or at least, you tell yourself you don’t. your fingers slide up into clark’s hair now, tangling in the soft strands and scratching lightly at his scalp. it’s a familiar gesture, one that always melts away his tension, one that he’s always leaned into with a quiet, contented sigh.

and just as expected, you feel his body shift under your touch, his stance softening, his shoulders relaxing. he leans into you, just a little, just enough for you to feel the heat of him. his hand finds its way to your waist, resting there like it’s second nature, like it’s where it belongs.

“you okay?” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear, his breath warm against your temple.

you nod, the soft smile still playing on your lips. “just... felt like being close,” you whisper back, your voice sweet, almost innocent.

his lips press into a faint smile, and you can see the tension flicker in his eyes—caught between the easy conversation with lana and the magnetic pull of your touch. you’re making him nervous, you can tell. but not in a bad way. no, this is the kind of nervous that sends little sparks of awareness through him, the kind that makes his heart beat just a little faster.

“yeah,” he says, his voice rougher than before. “me too.”

lana pauses mid-sentence, glancing at the two of you with a polite smile, but there’s a curiosity in her eyes now. “you two seem really close,” she observes, her tone light but probing.

you don’t miss a beat. your hand tightens ever so slightly around clark’s, your other hand still lost in his hair. “we are,” you reply, your voice soft but firm, the implication clear.

clark’s gaze dips to you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before he turns back to lana, offering a quick smile. “yeah, we are.”

the words hang in the air between the three of you, a subtle tension building that you don’t bother to smooth over. instead, you continue your slow, methodical ministrations, your touch a constant reminder of your presence, your claim. clark might not say it outright, but his body language speaks volumes—leaning into you, grounding himself in your touch, his fingers absently tracing circles against your waist.

and lana? she watches for a moment longer, her smile unwavering, but there’s something there—an understanding, maybe even a hint of envy. but she says nothing more, simply nodding and shifting the conversation elsewhere.

as the conversation flows on, you stay there, pressed against clark, your touch lingering, your heart pounding. every subtle movement, every gentle caress, is a silent reminder to him, to her, and most importantly, to yourself.

he’s yours. and you’re not letting go.

#lamy garden #clark kent #clark kent smallville imagine #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman comics #clark kent x female reader #smallville #superman #tom welling x reader #tom welling x you #tom welling x y/n #t #tom welling #smallville clark kent #clark

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potionsformaya · 2 days ago

Text

𓏵 ˖ ⋮ emily davis headcanons. . ֹ ₊

❝ often a lack of confidence manifests itself as over confidence. . ❞

this is part 1 of my emily headcanons, because she’s my angel and yet I never gush about her on here (smallest piece of angst somewhere in the mix but it’s like a: “must’ve been the wind” sort of thing.)

Emily isn’t exactly the biggest animal lover. She doesn’t like being around dogs (Sam’s dog likes to chase her when she’s comes over. Now she demands it gets put outside when she visits.), and cats are more tame (Ashley’s cat falls asleep in her lap, and she awkwardly pets it) but she wouldn’t want one as a pet. She does, however, have a soft spot for rabbits.

HATES losing. The sorest loser you’ll ever meet. Falling second place is enough to make her go crazy. It doesn’t even have to be anything academic or sporty. Losing to someone in a game can also ruin her day.

Being a mathlete, she sticks out like a sore thumb when grouped together with the other mathletes because most of them are on the geekier side. But despite her sour attitude, she’s managed to befriend a handful of them.

Even when she and Jessica were friends, she always felt like she had to be better than her in some way. Jessica being more out there and popular because of her brash and extroverted attitude, Emily felt as if she couldn’t keep it. While everyone was drooling over Miss Homecoming Queen, it was always a hit or miss with how people felt about Emily. It was always “she’s too bitchy” or “she’s okay”, no in between.

When Emily started dating Matt, she put on this flirty, suggestive persona just in case there was a chance of him leaving her for the same reason Mike dumped her. Being “too frigid”. However, Emily is still insecure about her performance in the bedroom due to Mike making it pretty clear she wasn’t his best experience.

Emily can be a bit bitter, but she’s never been all that serious. The smallest things are enough to tickle her, including her own jokes.

When around adults or authority figures, Emily is a completely different person. Very respectful and and well mannered. The first time she visit Ashley’s house, she went from ranting to Ashley outside the door, to having a polite conversation with Ashley’s mother in the living room.

Emily did in fact feel guilty for the prank they pulled on Hannah, and had zero intentions on going back up to the lodge. After a talk with Matt and thinking about how much it probably meant to Josh, she caved in.

Emily realized her eyesight was getting a tiny bit bad when she was only two seats away from the board and still couldn’t exactly make out what it said. If then became concerning when she was beginning to have a hard time reading up close, Sam told her she was going to have to get glasses sooner or later, but Em kept putting it off because she felt glasses would make her look dorky. She secretly ordered some online, and the prescription glasses were a little chunky and thick. She only wears them in the comfort of her own home.

She actually loves giving gifts on special occasions. And she’s loaded so her gifts usually aren’t that casual. She likes spending money on her friends to see their faces when they open up whatever she got them.

She doesn’t exactly have a fear of roller coasters or rides, they just make her sick every single time. And if you’re not fast enough, or you’re unlucky enough (like Chris), you’ll end up in the spray zone.

She topped Chris’s high score in DDR.

Emily got stuck in an art class as an elective. She hated every minute of it and she’s great at everything, but her art skills, not so much..

Ironically, Emily can be one of the most sensitive people you’ll ever meet.

She loves teasing and messing with her friends, but when it’s done back to her, she’s thrown off completely.

#emily davis #until dawn #supermassive games #until dawn headcanons #until dawn remake #until dawn remaster #until dawn emily #emily until dawn

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scintillyyy · 15 hours ago

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Hi. I love every second of your blog going "Fuck Chuck Dixon. All my homies hate Chuck Dixon." concurrent with "Dixon could often be remarkably competent as a writer with legit interesting ideas." Please never stop writing metas.

listennnnnn i hate dixon he's awful. he's also written stuff i really enjoy despite the many glaring faults.

the thing with dixon that i'm always trying to suss out tho. like, i think because current day dixon has been radicalized in a truly awful and horrendous way, there's a lot of desire to place his current day radical beliefs onto every aspect of his past works and blame everything on him and him alone as this one terrible writer who ruined all characters for ever and ever just because he's a conservative. but like. i think that because he's an awful person it's easy to place blame on him retroactively for some things that weren't necessarily solely a product of his conservatism or his fault alone.

and mmm. i never ever deny the conservatism present in his works. it's present in his robin book with tim, it's present in his nightwing book with dick, and it's present in his batman books with bruce. but people sometimes act as if he was working in a batoffice that had the current day issues it does where writers are given a carte blance to do whatever they want with all characters with little regards to continuity or character growth. that did not happen during his tim under denny in the 90s--denny o'neil was known for running a fairly tight ship (i can't find the interview but there's an interesting retrospective interview he does wrt jason where he talks about his failures as an editor and how he was too hands off and not firm enough allowing writers to do what they pleased which led him to become a much stricter and firm editor following jason's death because he learned from the experience). dixon in that interview i posted made it clear that o'neil wouldn't even let dixon touch the joker until dixon had demonstrated to o'neil he had a grasp on the character that o'neil approved of. dixon would not have been allowed to do whatever he wanted with characters like robin/tim. without o'neil putting a stop to it if he had gone too far. and for the record, o'neil was a big old bleeding heart liberal that, at the time at least, dixon is noted to have gotten along with very well despite their political opinion differences even at that time. dixon says he was an avid read of grant's work on batman. he's awful now, but at one point he was probably younger and a bit more willing to entertain ideas that weren't his own too.

so when i look back on his work as a historical work, i'm always trying to tease out the following - is this representive of dixon's brand of conservative views in particular or is it representative of a different, overall more conservative time era. and there's a lot of things that fall under the second umbrella that get attributed to the first tbh. listen i love no man's land and understand that despite my love it is full of copaganda and downright conservative ideals by today's standards. but NML wasn't written solely by dixon to push a uniquely conservative pro-cop view--o'neil approved of the story and was the editor of the office at the time. rucka was a huge player in helping tell this super pro-cop story (he even wrote the novelization!!) and nobody ever really puts blame on him for these things the way they do dixon afaik. NML being written in a 'democrats trying to be tough on crime' era absolutely means it's not solely the fault of dixon and his evil conservatism, but he often gets the flack as if it were despite the fact that he was getting these stories okayed by people on different ends of the political spectrum than him + these stories were not his evil conservative brainchild alone.

so these are the things i'm thinking when i read through his works. and maybe that gives me a rosier view than it should, but a lot of my thoughts come from "what can reasonably actually be attributed to showcasing what dixon's views actually are" vs "what might actually not be his fault and his fault alone".

and when i say that tim generally isn't the one who showcases his personal views, i'm not trying to minimize the fact that there is inherent conservatism baked in to his character along with everyone else written by dixon, i'm saying that we need to be realistic and realize that dixon did not have as much freedom to do with tim what he had freedom to do with tim's side characters. tim, after all, had to ultimately fit in o'neil's batbible framework of what he was supposed to be because tim was ultimately an IP character who was part of a batman and robin mythos that o'neil was very, very protective of in the 90s given his previous failures to maintain control of the ship. so when you consider dixon's particular conservatism in tim's books you need to consider that the vast majority of it came from the characters surrounding tim (such as his dad, dana, steph, etc) because dixon had more freedom with those sorts of characters, rather than tim himself who often doesn't have any particular opionion of his own--he's just reacting to all the different opinions being presented to him. and that's not to say that those character should be evil conservatives forever and ever--in fact, i personally think they shouldn't. but take the racist and classist inner city kids are bringing guns to school storyline in robin #25-26. as a whole it's a conservative story. o'neil allowed dixon to do the story in the first place when he could have said no. in the story tim wanders around not knowing what to do about karl bringing a gun to school--which is why he has to go to his dad and dana, who represent "go to the cops/don't be a narc options"--his dad is the one who tries to talk to karl's dad--karl is the conservative one who thinks that they need to protect themselves from inner city kids compared to tim who thinks that guns shouldn't be in school. but tim also thinks that they shouldn't go to the cops and wants his dad to handle it by himself, but eventually comes to the realization that he should have gone to school administration to begin with. in these issues, steph is also the one who dixon uses to link karl's shooting to the inner city kids who are getting bused in to the suburban schools--we talk about that panel of steph declaring herself the protector of the suburbs, but also that panel in context is within the confines of the story--steph is essentially saying "maybe the suburbs need a spoiler (to protect themselves from the inner city people coming to bring crime out to them)" which absolutely is a conservative dixonism that you can pinpoint to his particular kind politics in comparison to the milquetoast of tim's "i don't know what to do/talk to a trusted adult to get help before tragedy happens PSA/overall conservativeness" that happens. that the story itself that exists in tim's book is conservative, yes, and i won't deny that tim also has a few conservative dialogue here but to me the difference is that o'neil would not let dixon use tim drake to go on any overtly political rants or represent any specific ideology *himself* that could make him controversial with readers of the time given how protective o'neil was of not repeating his previous mistakes. you're generally going to find the more egregious dixonisms outside of tim. like "robin 1993 is a conservative book that has a pro-life storyline" (true) =/= "tim goes on an anti-abortion rant" (not true, literally never happened). tim shares blame because ultimately it is his book that presents a conservative worldview but tim as a character tends to exist as a more moderate (not completely, but more) character to have other characters present options and opinions to him rather than he himself saying he has those opinions. robin cannot take sides like that. o'neil wouldn't have let that happen.

and like. when discussing dixon my goal is never to completely absolve tim of dixon's writing. i just don't often see a need to completely rehash the tim-conservatism points because it's been discussed already over and over again to the point there's a pretty widespread misconception that tim is the ultimate dixon conservative mouthpiece who is solely at fault for all of robin 93's conservatism when actually there's a lot of other interesting places dixon's conservatism presents that are almost never discussed in comparison. my goal is not to be "tim's not at fault" or anything but it is to seriously consider and think about where i see dixon's personal opinions shining through more overtly based on what i know of the conservative mindset (as much as i don't agree with it). dissecting dixon and how he writes in consideration of his beliefs is fascinating and fun to me.

anyways he's awful.

#scintilly ask tag #mirrorfalls #anyways you will see dixon blamed for everything as if he was the sole arbiter of 90s comics #and like i blame him for so much #but to act if he's solely culpable for everything ignores who all else was involved in okay-ing the things he chose to write

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sanskari-kanya · 2 days ago

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Recorder Scandal in my room

We three — Bubbles, Blossom and I (wow so original Kanya) were roommates. We were literally ‘the girl gang’, we were so well bonded together. I still miss that girl gang feeling. One day, an argument broke between the Bubbles & Blossom. By the end of the evening, they had sorted it out and everything was fine yeah?

Bubbles told us she is gonna go out. And while going, she left her spare phone in the room with the recorder on to see what we would do and talk in her absence 😀

And like she predicted, Blossom opened up to me about how she felt about the whole fight that happened in the morning and that she thought the apology wasn’t genuine. Then she added how she dislikes the way Bubbles talks with her mother in a very demeaning and disrespectful manner and how controlling and orthodox her family is (she mentioned they are going to get Bubbles married in 3rd or 4th year of med school)

And I hummed in agreement BECAUSE I WAS CONCERNED. Although it wasn’t of any my business, as a friend, I really wanted Bubbles to talk respectfully with her mother. Irdc about their dynamics but ordering and demeaning her mom to not wear a dress but to wear a fully covered saree and a ghungat in 2023 was concerning to me 😭

Yeah so I agreered and the conversation ended there. Bubbles came back relatively early. Picked up the spare phone and started listening the recording. Wrote a long ass message to both of us saying how she hates us and nada nada and started weeping.

Now truly speaking, meri fatt ke 4 ho gai. As a girl, realising you were fucking recorded in your own fucking room is scary as hell. I called my mom, she was speechless. She told me to sort things out and get better of it. I did that. Despite not even being 10% as wrong as anyone involved, I tried to apologise and make the matter better but nah. She and her family started abusing Me and Blossom

So I was like, okay bitch. You wanna do it the dirty way. Next day, we called the hostel authorities and I told Bubbles that I will sue her for a breach of Privacy in a foreign country and get the passport detained 😊

Now what do you think was the reaction? Bubbles said her family has political influence (meri wapas fatt gai bhai) and her brother threatened to behead me with a sword. I was like HUH⁉️ She also got a few of my super seniors to wrongly accuse me of something I didn’t do.

Enter my bf with an even bigger political influence (what the actual fuck?) 😙 Told me to threaten them back with his name and made the super seniors apologise to me (i love life)

So yeah, this is how it ended. We changed rooms and my petty ass told the entire college about how Bubbles put a recorder in the room so nobody talks to them really. My head is fine, nobody tried to behead it (for now).

#desiblr #desi memes #wild i know #i never thought someone would threaten to behead me #my mom said tu talwar leke aaega aur mai haath fold karke baithungi kya 🤣🤣😭#also that brother of hers he failed in 12th std ka english so fuck off dude #peak example of papa ka kala paise aur do bigdi aulaade #next semester Bubbles ko Retake laga and she had to repeat a first sem subject #kanya in med school

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qqueenofhades · 7 months ago

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Is it foolish of me to sympathize with how marginalized people on the far-left are incredibly frustrated that the Democratic establishment isn't as scared of/desperate to please them as the Republican establishment are toward the MAGA fringe? I guess from their perspective, voting feels like begging - most of the people who hear you won't even glance at you, let alone drop you a coin. But you still have to do it, or else you (or worse, your family) are *guaranteed* to starve.

Okay, a few thoughts here. Note: for you and the other people who have recently sent politics asks, I have been very deliberately NOT talking about it for the last few months. I had to break it yesterday because of the Orange Menace finally getting fucking convicted, but I do want to go back to not doing that (at least for the next few weeks/months/until whatever else stupid happens). So while I will answer this, I am generally not going to answer others and my apologies for that, but yeah. It's just so much and I have GOT to keep myself sane until November somehow. (Or God forbid, afterward, but you know.)

First off, most members of the American far left aren't actually marginalized people, or at least not marginalized enough that their personal well-being seems in any way likely to be affected by their loud and ceaseless campaign to tell other people not to vote. Actual marginalized people who have lived in America for any length of time are *well* aware of how the government and the state can be weaponized against them; witness how black community organizers will voice well-deserved criticisms of the Democratic establishment or other aspects of American party politics that are frustrating for everyone, but they will still always tell people to vote. Black people are also extremely aware that earning the right to vote was an incredibly long, difficult, and bloody battle that they were never given it for free, and the white power establishment fought them having it at every turn. They are thus far more aware than your average white online leftist that voting matters, because they had to work so hard to get it (and still to defend it as various red states launch openly racist assaults on voting rights, especially aimed at disenfranchising people of color). Witness how Bernie also got literally zero traction with African American voters, despite being the darling of the (white) online left.

Hispanic people are also (rightfully) frustrated at how both American parties can use Latino immigrants as a political football, but they're still backing Biden by 30-point margins. We hear a lot of chatter about Trump supposedly gaining ground with voters of color -- maybe he has, though I doubt it, but that's still incremental gains from the massive holes he was in before, and where he generally remains. Arab Americans are (rightfully) angry with Biden over Gaza, but even in the much-hyped Michigan primary, he got roughly the same amount of "uncommitted" voters as Obama did as an uncontested incumbent in 2012, and most of them have said they'll grit their teeth and vote for him in the general election anyway. Yes, a few of them have decided not to, but they are not the size of the Black and Latino populations in America insofar as electoral power, and many of them have grudgingly decided that as bad as Biden might be on this particular issue (though far less so than the social media groupthink would paint him) the alternative (i.e. Trump openly promising to deport everybody who's not white and crack down on pro-Palestinian protests and anything else) is much, much worse.

And yet, white leftists seem utterly incapable of making these same calculations. Frankly, I'm not sure they actually care about Gaza, let alone anything else they say, because if so, they wouldn't be slavering at the mouth to let Trump back in there to "teach a lesson" to Biden, Democrats, and everyone else who was not Smart And Clever Enough to sanctimoniously sit on their hands and let the fascists take over. I know this because they spent all their time lying about Biden and distorting his record and insisting people not vote even before October of last year, and then it only got ten thousand times worse. I'm not saying that all leftist or leftist-identified people are white, but they are disproportionately predominant in leftist spaces and in pushing the idea that there's "no difference" between the parties and somehow Trump and Biden are morally equivalent or will have the same amount of impact on what will happen after one of them is elected. That is, yes, because they are white and they have the privilege of assuming that a weaponized fascist government will not go after them for that reason (even though Trump and his surrogates are now claiming that "everyone" who opposes Trump has to be "dealt with.") As such, when you say that marginalized far-left people are frustrated with the Democrats, I'm... not entirely sure that's true. Marginalized people AND the far left are both frustrated with the Democrats, but one of those groups has generally still decided not to voluntarily disenfranchise themselves, and the other is pumping out Vladimir Putin-wet-dream anti-voting propaganda at every chance they get.

There is also the fact that America is not a left-wing country in any sense of the word, and that while it's easy for the MAGA Republicans to go ever further far-right and promise to be even more outrageously cruel and stupid and fascist than ever before, but that's not an actual policy or a plan. It is also a strategy of diminishing returns; witness the fact that for all the cruelty and stupidity Republicans have pumped into the public arena since 2016, they haven't actually been that good at winning elections, and most of their major successes have come from Trump winning in 2016 and thus being able to stack SCOTUS and the district and circuit courts with hand-picked right-wing nut jobs, who are functioning exactly as they were designed to do. (Which Hillary Clinton warned about, along with everyone else, and yet she was taken out by the exact same dirtbag leftist disinformation moral purity machine that is working overtime to handicap Biden for the exact same reasons.) Mainstream Democrats warned about this before the 2016 election and were scorned and laughed off. Indeed, the entire Online Left continues to resolutely deny that the extremist SCOTUS is responsible for anything (It's Biden's Fault) and thus are likewise identical to Trumpies. And since they also want Trump to get back in there and teach a lesson to the Democrats, they're just as anti-democratic, dangerous, stupid, and deliberately short-sighted as actual MAGATs, and can by no means be considered allies to the singular movement of keeping fascists out of power. That is our only present goal.

If Democrats bent over to everything the far left asks for (which is often a combination of tankie gobbledygook, various vague ideas about Communism utopia where capitalism magically vanishes with no consequences, half-baked revolution cosplays, and other stuff that is functionally equivalent to the wildest lunacies of MAGA) they would never win an election again, and that would be exactly what the fascists want. Witness how they struggled when they were branded "defunders of the police" and "socialists" and other effective responses to the mildest milquetoast efforts for reform or accountability. And the political climate right now is just far too dangerous to throw everything to the wind and prance out some pipe-dream perfect-utopia plan. I'm sure you've heard about Project 2025 and how the far-right Heritage Foundation is planning to systematically implement fascism at all levels of the country, the instant they have a compliant Republican president and congress. I would take all these people crying about Biden even a fraction more seriously if they weren't openly jonesing for something that is so unbelievably, incredibly worse.

For example: I currently have major beefs with literally the entire foreign policy of the Biden administration right now. I think they're being too hard on Ukraine (forbidding them to strike targets on Russian soil with American weapons, which would end the war faster) and, despite some promising signs and open displeasure, still far too easy on Israel. They looked foolish after insisting that Rafah was a red line and then essentially making up an excuse that what's going on now is not a "major operation." Secretary of State Blinken floating the idea of helping Congress censure or neuter the International Criminal Court arrest warrants issued for Netanyahu and co. was also one of the fucking stupidest things I've heard from a serious (i.e. non-Trumpist) American diplomat in a long time. So we respect the ICC when it issues warrants for tyrants we don't like (Putin), but when it issues one for tyrants we still do, apparently (Netanyahu), then bingo, it's back to the bad old habit of ignoring international law like we're special and it doesn't apply to us, and allows all the other bad actors around the world to do the same by pointing at America and correctly pointing out that we ignore it when it doesn't suit our purposes. I think this is wrong and I don't agree. So? What am I going to do?

Well, you see. I'm going to vote for Biden and I am going to give him money and I am going to remind everyone I know that they have no moral option but to do the same. I do this because I am aware that despite my disagreements, Biden is acting from a cautious anti-interventionist standpoint and does not want to throw American military might around recklessly or dangerously like good ol' George Dubya or Trump or even Obama and the drones. He is listening to sober mainstream advisors who have (however incorrect and useless) ideas about "avoiding escalation" and trying to bring conflict to a managed end. He is doing this with a realistic appraisal of the power of the office of American presidency and he's not going to capriciously end democracy and become a full-blown fascist dictator on day one, as Trump has openly and repeatedly promised to do. Yes, if there was a viable option apart from Biden, maybe I would think about voting for them, but there is not, and literally everyone who does not actively vote for him is helping Trump. I do not care about any other contrived and disingenuous online squealing. I know that Biden does not want the war in Gaza to go on for no reason and for maximum carnage; Netanyahu and Trump both do. That is just to name one thing.

So: yes. I absolutely understand being frustrated with the Democrats and wishing they would push harder and etc. But I am also aware that they can be pushed, that they are the only option right now, and the people who huff and puff and whine and groan about how it's such a moral imposition to vote for them are literally doing the fascists' work for them, and that is not acceptable. If they want a better system or a better world that isn't just useless internet fantasies about magical end-of-days Raptures fixing everything, also a la the crazy fundamentalists, they will have to get off their ass, do the work, and create that change. I will be happy to vote for that candidate when or if they arrive. In the meantime, I will continue to do my damndest to ensure that we even have a chance to get there. So yeah.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #okay back to Not Talking About Politics i go

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