#puzzle for senior

[cgsjav]

16x16 SUDOKU LARGE PRINT Puzzle Book For Adults: (Very Easy to Hard)

16x16 SUDOKU LARGE PRINT Puzzle Book For Adults: (Very Easy to Hard) https://a.co/d/iKlLfzt

[sincaraz]

1., 5. and 14. for the off-season tennisblr ask game 😊

1. how did you get into tennis?

My parents! They always had tennis on at home and I did tennis summer camps as a kid but never joined a team or anything. I got more obsessive about watching it my senior year of college when I lived alone for the first time and could watch whatever I wanted while working on jigsaw puzzles

5. are you superstitious when it comes to tennis?

I don’t think so? But I absolutely believe in daniil’s no repeat curse because why not

14. a player you've changed your opinion on?

that would also be daniil. before I found tennisblr I didn’t think his fits were funny and I was really bothered by one where he started (lightly) kicking a camera on court after he had run into it because he stands stupid far back on the court. Now it’s mostly just amusing

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO but also the tags DUDE

Reverse Robin au but the ages aren't changed. Just adoption order.

[social-growth-assist]

In this ebook, you will discover the topics about history and development of Sudoku, be a Sudoku solver and exercise your brain, the math behind Sudoku, rules of playing Sudoku, the easiest way to play Sudoku, Sudoku puzzle tips, tricks and tips for Sudoku puzzles, Sudoku tips and killer moves, 7 careful steps on how to solve Sudoku, facts you need to know about having a printable Sudoku, the best part playing the Sudoku online and so much more!

Click Here

[lennylenski]

IF YOU ARE A _____, THIS book IS FOR YOU!

[birdmankickedmyass]

i do miss high school sometimes i was miserable but it was a routine expected miserable

[dostoyevsky-official]

The Elite College Students Who Can’t Read Books

Nicholas Dames has taught Literature Humanities, Columbia University’s required great-books course, since 1998. He loves the job, but it has changed. Over the past decade, students have become overwhelmed by the reading. College kids have never read everything they’re assigned, of course, but this feels different. Dames’s students now seem bewildered by the thought of finishing multiple books a semester. His colleagues have noticed the same problem. Many students no longer arrive at college—even at highly selective, elite colleges—prepared to read books.

This development puzzled Dames until one day during the fall 2022 semester, when a first-year student came to his office hours to share how challenging she had found the early assignments. Lit Hum often requires students to read a book, sometimes a very long and dense one, in just a week or two. But the student told Dames that, at her public high school, she had never been required to read an entire book. She had been assigned excerpts, poetry, and news articles, but not a single book cover to cover.

[...] Twenty years ago, Dames’s classes had no problem engaging in sophisticated discussions of Pride and Prejudice one week and Crime and Punishment the next. Now his students tell him up front that the reading load feels impossible. It’s not just the frenetic pace; they struggle to attend to small details while keeping track of the overall plot.

No comprehensive data exist on this trend, but the majority of the 33 professors I spoke with relayed similar experiences. Many had discussed the change at faculty meetings and in conversations with fellow instructors. [...] Daniel Shore, the chair of Georgetown’s English department, told me that his students have trouble staying focused on even a sonnet.

Failing to complete a 14-line poem without succumbing to distraction suggests one familiar explanation for the decline in reading aptitude: smartphones. Teenagers are constantly tempted by their devices, which inhibits their preparation for the rigors of college coursework—then they get to college, and the distractions keep flowing. “It’s changed expectations about what’s worthy of attention,” Daniel Willingham, a psychologist at UVA, told me. “Being bored has become unnatural.” Reading books, even for pleasure, can’t compete with TikTok, Instagram, YouTube. In 1976, about 40 percent of high-school seniors said they had read at least six books for fun in the previous year, compared with 11.5 percent who hadn’t read any. By 2022, those percentages had flipped.

[...] Mike Szkolka, a teacher and an administrator who has spent almost two decades in Boston and New York schools, told me that excerpts have replaced books across grade levels. “There’s no testing skill that can be related to … Can you sit down and read Tolstoy? ” he said. And if a skill is not easily measured, instructors and district leaders have little incentive to teach it. [...] The pandemic, which scrambled syllabi and moved coursework online, accelerated the shift away from teaching complete works.

[...] But it’s not clear that instructors can foster a love of reading by thinning out the syllabus. Some experts I spoke with attributed the decline of book reading to a shift in values rather than in skill sets. Students can still read books, they argue—they’re just choosing not to. Students today are far more concerned about their job prospects than they were in the past. Every year, they tell Howley that, despite enjoying what they learned in Lit Hum, they plan to instead get a degree in something more useful for their career.

[...] For years, Dames has asked his first-years about their favorite book. In the past, they cited books such as Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre. Now, he says, almost half of them cite young-adult books. Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series seems to be a particular favorite.

[bevanne46]

[cgsjav]

Mothers Day Word Search with Answers: Puzzle Book

Check this out! https://a.co/d/5rhy1Cc

[elevationhomecareinc]

Brain Exercises for Seniors with Dementia

While scientists are still conducting research on whether brain exercises help prevent or slow down the effects of dementia, it is still important for seniors to keep their minds healthy and active for as long as they can. As a caregiver provider, you can help seniors do these simple and easy brain exercises.

[hoe4hotchner]

Hi there! Can you write some HotchxColonelReader?! Like the Team comes by morging and sees Hotch, Strauss, Rossi and a woman from the army discussing something at Hotch's office about a case. Then, then discovery that THAT is the Hotchs' wife?! Sorry about my english. :) And Thank yoouuuuuuu!! I love all your work!!!

Absolutely!!! This was so much fun to write, and such a different prompt to what I usually get 🫶 Don't worry about your english ;) i'm not a native speaker 💕😘

Reverence | [A.H]

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘈𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘞: 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮��𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘱, 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘞𝘊: 1𝘬

           The early morning haze clung to the bullpen, and the rhythmic hum of coffee machines mixed with the muffled clicks of keyboards as the team settled into their desks. The quiet lull of routine was only broken by Morgan’s curious gaze as he caught a glimpse of Hotch’s office from across the room. The blinds were open, revealing an unusual scene - Hotch, Strauss, Rossi, and an unfamiliar woman standing together in what could only be described as a tense, closed-door meeting. The three agents looked on edge compared to her.

           “Hey,” Morgan called out quietly, his voice low with intrigue as he nodded toward the glass window. “What’s going on in there?”

           JJ glanced over from her desk, noticing the woman in uniform standing alongside the senior agents. Her sharp, tailored military attire contrasted starkly against the office's corporate formality. The woman exuded authority; her posture was stiff, shoulders back, chin raised with the kind of self-assurance that comes from years of commanding subordinates.

           “Who is she?” JJ whispered, leaning forward. “She looks like she’s ready to bark out several orders any second now.”

           Morgan folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Definitely military or marines. Look at that posture. You don’t stand like that out of free will unless you’ve seen action.”

           Reid, already drawn into the mystery woman, was fidgeting with the edge of his sweater trying to piece the puzzle together. “Maybe she’s part of an interagency collaboration? It could be something related to national security.”

           As the team watched, the woman turned slightly, her profile sharp and no-nonsense. Her movements were measured, and deliberate - every inch of her seemed to be about precision and control. Even though they were observing her through glass, it felt like her presence dominated the entire office.

           They didn’t have long to speculate before the door to Hotch’s office clicked open. Strauss emerged first, her usual expression in place as she nodded to the agents, followed by Rossi, who sported his signature knowing grin with a quick wink. But it was the woman who truly commanded attention as she stepped into the bullpen. The clack of her polished boots against the floor was precise, each step purposeful and calculated. Her uniform gleamed under the fluorescent lights, the medals and badges catching the glint of rays from the morning sun through the windows. She held her head high, her gaze sweeping the room like a hawk surveying its territory.

           Morgan straightened in his chair as she walked past, eyes wide with respect. “She’s definitely not here for pleasantries.”

           Before anyone could add another word, the woman stopped, her sharp gaze locking onto the team. It wasn’t just a glance - it was the kind of stare that felt like being x-rayed. The whispers, the subtle looks, the quiet gossip - they hadn’t gone unnoticed. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and with a swift motion, she crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze narrowing.

           The air in the room shifted instantly as she addressed them. Her voice, though calm, carried the unmistakable weight of authority. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

           The team froze. Her tone wasn’t loud, but it was firm, resonating with the controlled power of someone who was used to giving orders. It sliced through the air like a knife, leaving a lingering tension in its wake. JJ’s mouth opened slightly, Morgan leaned forward, and even Reid looked uncharacteristically startled.

           “No, ma’am,” they responded in unison, almost instinctively. The words tumbled out, a reflex to the command in her voice. It was as if, for a brief moment, they were recruits in boot camp being called to attention.

           Her eyes lingered on them for a moment, assessing, before a flicker of amusement danced across her features. Her posture remained as strict as before, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. She nodded once, satisfied with their response, then turned her attention back to Hotch, who stood quietly in the doorway of his office.

           “I’ll be returning to base,” she said, her voice noticeably softer, though still firm. She gave Hotch a look that lingered just a fraction too long for it to be strictly professional.

           “Thank you for coming by,” Hotch replied, his tone warm but restrained. There was something different about the way he spoke to her - his usual clipped authority was replaced by an almost imperceptible tenderness.

           “Of course,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. Then, her voice dropped into something far more intimate. “Aaron.”

           The use of his first name hung in the air, so casual, so familiar, yet it sent shockwaves through the team.

           JJ’s eyes widened. “Did she just call him Aaron?”

           Morgan’s jaw nearly dropped. “Hold up. Did she just—?”

           The woman didn’t wait for their reactions. With a brisk turn, she walked out of the office, her boots echoing down the hallway as she left, her military bearing never faltering. It was only after the door had swung shut behind her that Rossi, who had been watching the whole thing with barely concealed amusement, let out a chuckle.

           “Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” Rossi said, crossing his arms as he leaned against a desk in the bullpen. “That, ladies and gentlemen, is Hotch’s wife.”

           The team stared at him, slack-jawed.

           “His wife?” JJ managed, her voice unbelieving.

           “Colonel actually,” Rossi clarified, eyes twinkling with mischief. “She’s been in the army for years. Taught Hotch everything he knows about being strict.”

           “She’s tougher than Hotch,” Morgan added, still trying to wrap his head around the revelation.

           “Way tougher,” Rossi said, winking at the team.

           “That was… something else.” Emily managed to say through her disbelief.

           They turned to look at Hotch, before he returned to his office, his expression unreadable as he resumed his work. For a brief second, though, as his gaze flicked toward the team, they could see the faintest smile - a private, almost imperceptible curve of his lips.

           “You never asked,” he said simply, allowing a rare smile to tug at the corners of his lips before turning his attention back to his office and paperwork, leaving the team still gaping.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel’s Real Name

Now, you know how Freddy’s called Junior? Yeah, let’s take that a little bit further.

Billy and Freddy are bickering in one of the computer rooms of the Watchtower. Of course, they’re in their Marvel forms. Batman’s on one of the nearby computers.

Marvel and Junior: *whisper yelling at each other about god knows what*

Marvel: *louder* “Oh my gods! Freddy shut u-” *cuts himself off with an ‘I fucked up’ face*

Junior: *appalled*

Marvel and Junior: *slowly look over to Batman*

Batman: *staring right at them because he had originally turned around to tell them to quiet down since they were getting louder*

Marvel and Junior: *share a look and walk out of the room and to the zetas in complete silence*

Batman: *immediately pulls up both Marvel and Junior’s files because now he actually has a name for a face, or rather maybe faces?*

Back in Fawcett…

Freddy and Billy: *Both detransformed and now on a bench*

Freddy: “Dude, what is the matter with you?!” *shaking Billy by the shoulders*

Billy: “I said I was sorry!”

Freddy: “Sorry doesn’t cut it! You can’t just name drop me in front of Batman of all people!”

Billy: “I’m sorry!” *says more desperately this time* *still being shaken by Freddy* “Maybe he won’t find out!”

Freddy: “Of course he’ll find out! He’s Batman!”

Freddy then proceeded to continue to shaking Billy until the Batson vomited on the sidewalk after getting too dizzy.

The next day…

Marvel: *doing a jigsaw puzzle in the same rec room as yesterday sitting crisscross applesauce on the floor*

Hal Jordan: *walked into rec room to watch tv. He sees Marvel* “Hey, Fred.”

Marvel: *doesn’t respond, still hyper focused on his puzzle*

Hal Jordan: “Cap? Buddy?” *leans on Marvel, looking at the puzzle*

Marvel: “Yeah?” *looks away from puzzle to Hal*

Hal Jordan: “Huh.”

Marvel: “Huh what?”

Hal Jordan: “You’re good at the whole not responding to your name thing.”

Marvel: “Huh??? What’re you talking about?”

Hal Jordan: “Well, I heard through the grapevine, aka Spooky told Supes, Flash overheard, he told Hawkgirl, she told John, and he told me.”

Marvel: “Oh…!” *now scared cause he thinks they know his name now*

Hal Jordan: “And now that I think about it, your name honestly suits you. You look like a Freddy.”

Marvel: *now dumbfounded* “What? My name isn’t Freddy.”

Hal Jordan: “Uh yeah it is dude. If Junior is a junior, you’re senior. Freddy Senior.”

After that, Marvel just let them call him Fred, and Junior Freddy. He never corrected them which made them assume they were correct, but they didn’t know that Billy was just going with the flow.

Like a week later…

Billy and Freddy: *eating some sandwiches on the curb as their normal forms*

Freddy: “By the way, dude. You totally bogarted my name.”

Billy: “What? No I didn’t. They just assumed it was mine and I just went with it.” *takes another bite of his sandwich*

Freddy: “Still bogarting, bro.”

Billy: “Would you rather they know my name is Billy?”

Freddy: *takes another bite of his sandwich and talks while chewing* “No.”

Billy: “Then zip it, lock it and put it in your pocket, man.”

Freddy: *uses good leg to kick Billy in the shin*

Billy: “Ow!” *rubs the shin that got hit* “What was that for??”

Freddy: “That was me politely telling you to not use the kindergarten way of telling me to shut up.”

[wandasaura]

YOU CAN HEAR IT IN THE SILENCE

summary — as you navigate this new season of love with wanda and natasha, you make the time to fall into soft moments of comfortable silence, even as the world prepares to challenge you as the semester begins

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, domestic fluff, very light elements of dom/sub dynamics, alludes to mommy kink if you squint, oral fixation, just soft girlfriends wandanat and their little duckling

authors note — a little blurb inspired by this ask

The love you held so tenderly in your heart for Natasha had somehow grown to include Wanda as the months came and passed and the weather changed just as quickly. You’d gone through seasons of scarves, of thin jackets and long layers, of bikinis and designer sunglasses. This new season was softer, sweeter, and you cherished where it would lead you as the leaves changed and the breeze carried a welcomed chill. Throughout the seasons of your love, there were things that had never grown on you despite the weight they held in your relationship. You’d still not found a love for gardening despite seeing Wanda through a plethora of projects and renovations since the barren ground of winter had become plush with moisture and sunlight, and you still couldn’t tolerate the sitcoms that she’d roped Natasha into adoring just as equally. You could compromise, find entertainment in their joy, but some things had remained only theirs throughout your relationship, and you’d find genuine peace with that. Still, there were nights where you tried to fit into their puzzle for two, attempted to merge the sliver of separation that harmed no one, but could feel quite isolating when all you desired was their silent company. 

As you laid across Natasha, your head cradled between soft thighs in her lap, her fingers weaved into your hair that had been washed and blow dried affectionately just an hour earlier, you found a gentle peace in the laugh track that filled the living room with a delicate buzz and the lightness of the sound stages that brought forth an incandescent glow which turned soft colored eyes that you’d memorized since that first season of love where scarves had been wrapped around necks into dazzling specs of precious priceless gemstones. You hummed every so often, when her nails scratched at your scalp just right, but other than your soft noises of contentment, nobody spoke. 

You’d only gone back to classes last week, and while the introduction period was calm as it always had been, the buzz of academic anticipation had exhausted you tremendously. Your senior year was here, firmly upon you whether you were ready to dive into it or not. This would truly be the turning point that would irreversibly contribute to your future, and the stress of coming out on top felt debilitating before it had even truly begun. Wanda and Natasha had simultaneously taken a plunge into organized chaos within the last seven days, now back in the office full time, although Natasha still prioritized working from home. Your routine had shifted since the season of bikinis and designed sunglasses, now filled with long sleeves and cozy shorts that didn’t dig into your belly during lectures, but there was something to look forward to in this new stage of navigating your relationship. 

You were up earlier now most days – sparing Wednesdays which fortunately provided you a break – needing to be to campus by nine, having to leave at eight to ensure traffic didn’t set back your ambitious attempt to live off campus during the semester, which meant that you had a couple of soft, tender minutes to steal with Natasha before you really did have to start getting ready at seven. She never did come downstairs before you left for school, preferring to milk the absolute most out of her quiet mornings before she headed into the office across the hall, but you could count on stealing a kiss from Wanda who left within the same ten minutes of you, most times in the kitchen, after you’ve stolen a sip of her coffee that was always poured into the same stainless steel travel mug, but sometimes your departures aligned, and she’d walk you to the car with a gentle hand on the center of your back, and she’d kiss you sweetly before seeing you out of the driveway with an enthusiastic wave of encouragement. It was different, less entangled, but their soft company guided you through the mornings where it felt impossible to leave their side. 

Saturdays had an unspoken promise to them now. Where Wanda had once prioritized not working so intensely on Fridays, wanting to spend that day with you and Natasha at home, she’d rearranged her schedule to assure that any leftover assignments were delegated between trusted employees that could handle and meet the standard of which their company strived to uphold. You’d done nothing short of nothing all day, starting with a cheap breakfast of frozen pancakes and strawberries that weren’t quite in season anymore, leading into a dip in the pool beneath wind rustling leaves, although you quickly realized that fall temperatures were not as appealing as summer, and despite the use of the heater that Natasha had cracked up to a mid-ninety, you scrambled out within minutes and cocooned yourself in a fluffy bath towel that provided more protection than a beach towel could. You’d ordered takeout for lunch, ate those leftovers for dinner, and soaked up every moment of company you could in between meals at the dining room table, knowing that eventually, you’d have deadlines to meet and they’d have cases to work even if you’d silently vowed to spend as much time as you could reconnecting on Saturdays. 

When Natasha shifted beneath you, gently picking your head up from where it had rested in her lap for the last hour, you whined in discontentment, struggling against her tender hold to reclaim your position against her. She laughed softly in response, leaning down to lay a sweet kiss against your temple, before she slid out from beneath you entirely, stretching her arms above her head and revealing the milky skin of her belly that you couldn’t resist reaching out to poke. Without her fingers tangled into your hair, keeping you calm and stimulated against her warmth, the echoing laughter that played from the speakers scratched at your brain annoyingly. You sat up fully with a huff, criss crossing your legs as you looked at her glumly, unable to conceal your betrayal. 

“Oh, I’m so mean, aren’t I?” She cooed softly, cupping your face to lay her lips against yours, leaving you with the taste of her chapstick against your tongue before she slipped away into the kitchen. The sounds of her filling up three different cups of water told you all that you needed to know, and begrudgingly you attempted to rise to your feet and follow her, wanting to help complete the routine she’d set for herself when you’d first moved in, but Wanda grabbing at your waist kept you confined to the living room and her presence alone. 

“Nu uh, we’re not playing duckling tonight.” She teased softly, her fingers adorned with glimmering silver rings slipping beneath the shirt you’d stolen from her closet after you’d showered off the salted pool water that tarnished your softness, her blunt nails raking trails down your skin as she held you, keeping you from seeking out Natasha like you’d sought out to do. “You gonna come cuddle with me? Or am I not as good as Natty?” There was a wrinkle of lightness in her tone, a clear indication that she found great amusement in your clinginess that had been directed at her through the past season of bikinis and designer sunglasses. 

“Not as good.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, although you melted into her within the same breath that you turned down her proposition, which prompted an affectionate chuckle and a kiss to be laid against your head. “Want Natty.” You grumbled, mindlessly grabbing at the hand that laid draped against your lap, keeping you pinned against her chest. 

“Natty’s coming back. You’re stuck with me in the meantime.” She laughed, humming softly when you lifted her hand to your lips and kissed at each glimmering knuckle, the cool metal against your lips a refreshing addition of stimulation, although that quickly found a way to become a reason for you to wrap your tongue around her pointer finger and give an experimental suckle. “Ah, so that’s your problem. My sitcoms still boring you, detka?” Wanda teased, playfully pressing down against your tongue, startling you as you gagged softly in response, wide eyes flittering upward to meet hers. 

You nodded softly, a crinkle in your nose an amusing sight as you sat entangled with her limbs, teeth nibbling affectionately on her pointer finger, not willing to let it go. “Well, let's fix that then, hm?” You whined softly when she removed her finger from your possessive hold, but sank two in place of the one that you’d clung to, pacifying your restlessness. “There we go, that’s better isn’t it, moya lyubov?” 

You nodded softly, sinking further into Wanda, mindlessly watching whatever sitcom had stolen both her and Natasha’s interest as you suckled and chewed on her fingers. When Natasha came back, you hardly noticed, too entranced with the sensation of cold metal against your tongue. 

“It sucks not having you both home with me, but I can get used to this.” She sighed softly, her hand coming to rest on your thigh, keeping you pinned between their bodies equally. 

[asapeveryday]

Breath Me In

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Warnings: Smut (Fingering), weed, alcohol

Summary: Uconn’s end of summer party brings you all sorts of highs.

A/n: can you tell I like party settings??? Anyways. We need more fics of Paige receiving instead of always giving pls!! Someone please this girl!

Summer is coming to a close. Long August days turn to colder September nights, and the students of Uconn have mostly moved in for the new semester. A new year of college calls for a party.

Uconns annual end-of-summer party was an absolute staple to attend for seniors, richer students who lived in housing nearby often responsible for hosting. Summery rap and pop blasting, coolers and twisted tea by the gallons, string lights in big green backyards, patio furniture overrun by couples making out or slowly sobering up. It was a sight to behold, and you relished in the feeling of this, the beginning of the end of school.

When you make your way throughout the house, various people stop to talk to you, including the hostess herself.

Stella DeSantos is a trust fund girl who’s in her senior year for sports marketing, and this years lucky party organizer. She has the means, obviously, because the house is massive.

“So… gonna start the year off with some dick or what?” She laughs, already tipsy.

You just smile and shake your head. “I’m chill right now.” Is your reply. Honestly you just didn’t want to pull the ‘id rather have pussy’ card on her.

The girl swings an arm around you. “I could set you up with some really athletic guys if that’s your thing.” She hiccups. “Want a drink?”

She thrusts a mango white claw into your hand and you take it reluctantly. As much as you loved getting wasted the party was a bit too rowdy to feel comfortable. You were desperately searching for someone you knew well enough to hang out with that wasn’t already drunk, with no luck.

You stick by Stella for a while, standing by as she greets people and gets drunker by the minute. You’re still holding the same White-claw, though it’s mostly empty.

You’re scoping out the scene yourself, the house is filled with kids you’ve been in school with for the past years. Your gaze stops in the kitchen, where two girls reside. One tall with dark skin, hair slicked back and clothes baggy. You’d had classes with Aubrey Griffin before, she was intimidating but attractive.

The other girl was paler and slightly shorter, blonde hair tied back into a bun and glasses on her face.

“Paige!” Stella calls out, as if sensing your thoughts. She makes her way over to the two girls and you awkwardly follow behind. Everyone knows Paige Bueckers. She’s one of those students, everyone mostly likes her and she’s friends with all the right people. It puzzled you how someone so gay still attracted so many guys.

Stella talks to Aubrey and Paige, and they politely engage despite obviously being thrown off by how drunk she is. Their shared looks almost make you laugh. You take this as a chance to get a good look at Paige. She mostly stayed out of trouble or tough rumours, and kept to her main group of friends, so aside from her talent on the court you knew almost nothing.

You let yourself stare at her, noting her blue eyes, long lashes and wide smile. She carried herself confidently, but looked uncomfortable.

Finally she turns to meet your eye, and when her tongue flashes out to wet her lips you physically feel something in your stomach drop.

“You her babysitter or something?” She smirks.

“You’d think she knows how much she can handle by now.” You scoff. Stella barely notices, fully talking to Aubrey.

Paige’s eyes dart to the drink in your hand. “Good luck finding a ride home tonight.”

Before you can respond, maybe by telling her your name or sparking better conversation, Stella’s attention is drawn somewhere else and she starts to drag you away.

You turn to get one last look at Paige, and internally celebrate when your eyes meet.

-

As the summer sun finally began to set, it got a little too cold for everyone to be outside. The inside of the house was absolutely packed, the music was louder and the air was thicker. The smell of smoke and sound of people was starting to irritate you, but for whatever reason you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Stella was nowhere to be found and you were sitting on the kitchen counter next to some other girls, quietly sipping some drink while listening in to conversations. The original plan of staying mostly sober was ruined by your boredom, and though you weren’t drunk you felt significantly warmer and a little more confident.

“Oh, it’s you again.” A voice says. You turn to see it’s Paige and your heart skips a beat.

“I have a name.” You reply, not caring if you come off rude. She doesn’t seem to care either, just raising her eyebrows at you. “And it is?”

You tell her your name and she repeats it to herself with a smile. “I’m Paige.”

“I figured.” You laugh. The alcohol was making everything seem like less of a deal, had you talked to her more before you probably wouldn’t have been so casual.

“You drunk?” She asks, leaning against the counter across from you. At this angle you’re pretty much looking down at her, she looks cuter with her eyes wide and head tilted slightly upwards. You almost let your imagination get ahead of you.

“Getting there. You?”

Paige shakes her head no. “You don’t seem like much of a drinker.”

With a shrug, you say “This party is less fun than I thought it would be.”

“I’m gonna head outside if you’re tryna come.” She shrugs back.

You hop off of the counter and are reminded of the fact that Paige isn’t short. She seems happy that she’s not looking up at you anymore.

“Sure, why not.” You smile.

She leads you to the backyard and the sudden quiet is surprising. The music is muffled and the air is fresher, it’s a beautiful night and the yard is empty for the two of you. Paige heads straight for the pool, sitting down by the edge of the deep end and taking off her shoes, letting her legs dangle in the water. You join her and do the same.

“So you came to a party and you’re not drinking or getting high?” You ask her.

“Ah ah,” she smirks. “I’m getting high for sure, jus had to be a little sneaky. You can keep a secret, right?” Paige tilts her head at you, and you almost melt right there and then.

“I’m great at keeping secrets.” You eye her, tilting your head like she does. “But can all those people?” You gesture to the kids inside the house.

“Everyone in there is gonna be too drunk to remember me sneaking out for a blunt with a girl.” She finally breaks eye contact, reaching into her pocket for a tin of pre-rolled blunts.

She said ‘with a girl’ like her being with you could be a topic of conversation. The thought makes your mind race.

When Paige lights up and gets the first hit, her whole composure loosens.

The blue from the pool water reflecting onto her face, the slight glow of the blunt against her lips, the way she blows the smoke afterwards. It’s driving you insane.

You stare at your legs in the water, her pale ones next to yours. The night is beautiful. She’s beautiful. You wonder if she’ll remember anything tomorrow.

“Want sum?” Paige interrupts your thoughts, holding out the blunt. You know you shouldn’t mix weed with alcohol, but your heart is buzzing and her lips had already been on it, so you can’t say no.

Taking it from her nimble fingers (which you cursed yourself for even noticing) you inhale, letting the smoke fill you up before letting out a long breath, trying to ignore her sharp eyes on you.

“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you around before.” She says, taking back the blunt. You let the statement linger in the air. For every hit you take, she takes three. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are already slightly pink.

“Are you not the noticing type?” You ask.

Paige’s eyes meet yours. “Are you?”

You laugh and take the blunt from her, holding the smoke in before tilting your head back and blowing it into the night sky.

“I notice a lot of things.” you say, glancing at her lips before meeting her eyes again.

“Oh yeah?” She says quietly, analyzing your features. If it weren’t for the drinks and the weed, you would’ve felt like prey under her watch.

“Yeah.” You match her tone.

She’s closer than you remember her being. The air smells like weed and chlorine, but she smells like summer.

Nobody says anything, you just keep passing the blunt.

“What was your first time getting high like?” You ask her.

“Freshman year, me and some other girls on my team decided we were gonna do it together.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Don’t know why we started with edibles, but we were still high the next morning.”

“Oh shit.” You laugh.

“Yeah,” she huffs “and we had practice that afternoon, must’ve gone through like 3 bottles of eye drops each. What about you?”

“Senior year of high school.” You cringe and she smiles at your expression. “My girlfriend- at the time, was kind of addicted. Didn’t seem like a big deal then, but she begged me to smoke and I did. It was whatever.”

“Girlfriend?” She asks.

“You’re surprised?” You chuckle. “Shit, you really don’t notice anything.”

“Shut up.” She flicks your shoulder. “Any girlfriend now?”

“Fuck no.”

“I feel that.” She blows smoke into the crisp air. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, you looking into the water and her looking at you, before she finally says “Can I try something?”

“Like what?” You ask.

You can tell her thinking is slightly hazy, she’s moving slower and her eyes are tired, it’s attractive.

“Lemme jus show you…don’t freak.”

Paige takes a hit, then leans into you. In an instance her lips are on yours, prying you open and exhaling smoke into your mouth, then she pulls away. You resist the urge to choke, but manage to exhale smoothly. Your lips tingle where she made contact with you, and you feel your face get red at her expression. Paige is practically entranced.

“Little warning would’ve been better next time.” You cough.

“We can try again if you want.” She smirks, and you roll your eyes.

Once again Paige takes a hit then leans into you, this time placing her hand on your face. She huffs the smoke inside your mouth and you gladly take it, now knowing what to expect. When she pulls away you don’t turn your head, you just blow out the smoke, letting it cloud both your vision and hers. When it clears she’s staring dead at your lips.

Her lips meet yours again, this time without any weed. She’s taking her time with you, tongue exploring your mouth attentively, one hand still on your face while the other finds your thigh.

Her hands are calloused and controlled against your skin, her glasses bump your face as you kiss her. Her lips are soft.

You let your hands wander too, dancing under her black t-shirt and gripping her waist. You can feel her abs, toned from her athletic lifestyle. You can only imagine the things you could do with her abs alone.

Her hand leaves your thigh and meets yours under her shirt, gripping your wrist she guides you to her sports bra, letting you get under it and feel her breasts.

She sighs into your mouth when you lightly pinch her nipples, her usually confident voice now almost needy.

Paige’s kisses trail down to your neck, licking and biting into your soft skin. You let your fingers ghost against her until they reach the waistband of her sweatshorts.

“Can I?” You whisper, eager to feel her.

“Fuck, yes.” She murmurs against you, sucking beautifully painted hickeys from your neck to your collarbone.

When your fingers rub her through her boxers you can hear her breathing change, and it’s doing things to you. Rubbing slow circles on her clit, you feel yourself getting wet.

“You let every girl down your pants, Paige?” You mumble. She stares up at you, eyes wide and bloodshot.

You relish in the way she bites her lip when your pace quickens, you can feel her slick through the boxer briefs and you can’t help but tease her. “So wet already…”

Finally you let your hand slip into her briefs, finding her entrance and teasing around her hole. Her hips jerk upwards, giving you room to move, offering herself to you. “Stop talking.” She grumbles, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

You connect with her lips again as your fingers finally dip inside of her, causing her to let a soft moan out. You realize suddenly that anyone inside the house could come outside and see you two, but with all the weed and alcohol you couldn’t care less, you couldn’t stop now, not when Paige was grinding against your fingers and letting out sweet whimpers into your mouth, her hands feeling you all over.

Breaking the kiss is the best decision you make, because you can actually see her. Her face is perfect, hair falling out of her bun, glasses sliding down her nose, her expression a sexy, needy pout, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of her and grinning as her whimpers get a little louder. The noise of her slick, her voice, the crickets outside and the muffled music is almost magical to you. Her blue eyes shining and glossy from the weed and the reflection of the water.

“Fuck.” She murmurs, covering her mouth. “Oh, fuck.”

Her hips are violently bucking now as you curl your fingers inside of her and use your thumb to apply pressure to her clit. Her eyes are screwed shut now, and you can tell she’s close.

“Gonna cum for me Paige? Cmon baby, let it out.”

She calls out your name, legs open and pussy throbbing against your fingers. Finally she loosens around you, reaching her orgasm.

She’s still clinging to your body and catching her breath when you pull your hand out from her shorts, licking your fingers like you’ve just finished a meal. Paige’s eyes are trained on your lips wrapped around the same digits that were just inside of her.

You just smile at her staring. “You good?” You ask her. She just chuckles and takes off her shirt. “I’m good. Might needa cool down though.” Paige eyes you as she slips into the pool.

You laugh and take your shirt off too, slipping into the cold water with her.

It’s a good night, filling your lungs with her, breathing Paige in.

[lennylenski]

Would you like to have a book that transports you back in time?