#rambled so MUCH. sorry. but if you understand you understand
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pbaz7 · 1 day ago
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ONE SHOT: IN HER ORBIT
paige x azzk
warnings: drinking, sexual content, cheating
word count: 14.9k
A/N: Alright this combined like a hundred prompts ngl 😭 so i’m so sorry if it’s a little all over the place but I think it’s pretty ok. It’s definitely not as toxic as some of you wanted but it’s still there 🫣. Let me know what you think and leave like reacts if you can! Happy game day!!
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Azzi hadn’t thought much about how far she and Amber had drifted until recently. They’d been together since her junior year of high school, the perfect couple that everyone envied. Amber was there for every game, every late-night phone call about college recruitment, and every post-game celebratory hug. When they both got into UConn, and Amber told Azzi she was going to go with her, Azzi thought it was a sign—proof that they were meant to keep building their lives together.
But somewhere along the way, things started to change. Amber was preoccupied with her own career goals, diving headfirst into internships, networking events, and her demanding course load. What used to be excitement about Azzi’s basketball career had faded into indifference and a lot of times, criticism.
“You’re stressing too much over practice,” Amber had said a few weeks ago when Azzi mentioned staying late to work on her shot. “It’s just basketball. A literal game. You’re already starting anyway, just come help me study.”
It was little comments like that, each one slicing a bit deeper than the last, that made Azzi feel like Amber didn’t really understand what this meant to her. What this meant for her career. Basketball wasn’t just a sport or a game, it was Azzi’s entire livelihood, her entire future.
That’s when Paige came into the picture.
Azzi didn’t expect to find comfort in Paige—at least not at first. Paige was composed in a way that made her seem untouchable, like she had the entire world figured out. As the face of the team, Paige carried herself with a quiet confidence that made her magnetic, always pulling people into her orbit naturally, whether she was in the locker room, on the court, or just walking across campus. People noticed her and they wanted to be noticed by her.
But Paige wasn’t just a star. She noticed things, little things, like how Azzi’s shooting percentages dipped slightly during stressful weeks or how her shoulders would slump after a particularly bad day. Paige stepped in without making a big show of it, offering help that felt more like a genuine friendship than obligation.
“You good, freshie?” Paige would always ask after practice, tossing a towel over her shoulder as she lingered by Azzi’s side. The question was always casual, but her tone portrayed something genuine—something that told Azzi she didn’t have to be fine if she wasn’t because Paige was genuinely asking about her well being.
It started with extra shooting sessions after practice. Paige would stay behind, helping Azzi find her rhythm again when her mechanics felt off.
“Don’t force it,” Paige would say, gently adjusting Azzi’s elbow. “You’re one of the best shooters in the world. You know the motion. Just let it flow naturally.”
Azzi felt like she could let her guard down around Paige. There was never any judgment, no criticism—just unwavering support. And when practice was over and the rest of the team had left, Paige didn’t rush off either.
“Wanna grab something to eat?” Paige asked one day after they’d spent an hour running through plays together.
Azzi hesitated, but Paige’s smile was disarming. “My treat. Call it payment for all the extra work I’ve been putting you through.”
They ended up at a nearby diner, talking about everything from basketball to their childhood and dreams. Paige was funny and unfiltered in a way that made Azzi laugh harder than she had in her entire life.
What started as casual basketball texts here and there quickly turned into long, rambling late-night conversations. Paige had a way of keeping Azzi on her phone for hours, their texts bouncing from lighthearted banter to deeply personal confessions every night.
11:34 PM
Freshie: I swear Geno’s trying to kill me with all these plays. My brain is mush
Paige: Mush isn’t good. Should I start bringing you flashcards?
Freshie: Flashcards? Really?
Paige: I’m trying to be supportive here Azzi. Don’t knock it till you try it
Freshie: Fine. But if I mess up this week, it’s on you
Paige: Deal. But you won’t
12:52 AM
Freshie: Okay, real question this time. Did you always know basketball would be your life?
Paige: I pretty much knew the moment I picked up a ball. Why?
Freshie: I don’t know. Lately, I feel like I’m just losing myself in it. Like… is this all I’m good for? Dribbling an orange ball lol.
Paige: You’re not just “good” for it. You’re great at it. But you know you’re more than that too. You just have too much going on to see it right now.
2:14 AM
Freshie: Do you ever feel like you’re failing at everything outside of basketball?
Paige: Lol every day.
Freshie: How do you deal with it?
Paige: I remind myself why I started. And then I text you and distract myself with your constant overthinking or rambling
Freshie: So I’m a distraction now?
Paige: Yeah, but a cute one so it’s ok
Azzi stared at the text longer than she should have, biting her lip before replying. Whenever Paige flirted it was always subtle, just enough to make Azzi’s heart pick up, but not so much that she couldn’t dismiss them as harmless jokes.
By the time Azzi finally fell asleep, her phone still clutched in her hand, Paige’s words about basketball echoing in her mind.
The first time Azzi showed up at Paige’s dorm late at night, it wasn’t planned. She and Amber had just had one of their worst arguments yet—Amber accusing Azzi of putting a “stupid game” above their relationship, and Azzi firing back that Amber didn’t even try to understand what she was going through before it ended in a shouting match and Azzi leaving her own room.
Paige opened the door in sweats and a hoodie, her hair still wet from the shower she just took.
“You okay?” Paige asked, stepping aside to let her in.
Azzi nodded, even though her red-rimmed eyes told a different story. She dropped onto Paige’s bed without waiting for an invitation, staring at the ceiling.
Paige didn’t press much. Just handed Azzi a bottle of water and laid beside her, their shoulders almost touching.
“Girl troubles?” Paige finally asked.
Azzi sighed, covering her face with her hands. “She just… doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get me anymore. It’s tiring”
Paige hesitated, then looked over at Azzi saying. “For what it’s worth, I get you. And there’s these ten other girls known as our teammates that get you. So I promise you’re not as alone as you think.”
The words hung in the air for some time, heavy with something Azzi couldn’t name but felt deep in her chest as she laid there with Paige.
After some time passed, Paige, wanting to cheer Azzi up, let out a dramatic grumble as she sat up. “Alright, fine. We can watch Frozen,” she said.
Azzi laughed instantly as she grabbed a nearby pillow and tossed it at Paige.
Paige caught the pillow midair with ease, narrowing her eyes playfully as she held it up. “Don’t be rude,” she deadpanned, throwing the pillow back on the bed before turning toward the dresser for the remote.
When she turned back around, she caught Azzi pouting, her bottom lip jutting out dramatically. Paige froze for a second before shaking her head, chuckling softly. “You’re annoying,” she muttered, though the fondness in her voice betrayed her words.
Azzi’s pout turned into a grin as Paige climbed back into bed, remote in hand. Their shoulders brushed as Paige settled beside her, pretending to scroll through the streaming options with exaggerated effort. “Happy now?” Paige asked.
“Very,” Azzi said, leaning slightly into Paige’s side, her smile lingering as she watched Paige pretend to grumble under her breath.
This became a pattern. The more drifted from Amber, the more they argued and Amber hurled insults at Azzi. The closer she found herself to Paige. They started spending more time together outside of practice whenever they could. Paige would go to Azzi’s room to watch movies, always teasing her about her terrible taste in romcoms. Azzi would show up at Paige’s room whenever she wanted, sinking into Paige’s beanbag chair as they talked endlessly.
There was a lightness to being with Paige that Azzi hadn’t felt in a long time. Amber always seemed to expect something from her—more time, more effort, more of herself. But Paige just… let her be.
For Paige, the shift came suddenly and without warning. She didn’t realize how deep her feelings ran until one night when Azzi showed up at her door after another fight with Amber.
Azzi’s eyes were puffy, her hair a mess, but Paige thought she’d never looked more beautiful.
“What happened?” Paige asked, ushering her in.
Azzi shook her head, collapsing onto the bed. “It’s the same thing. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get me.”
Paige sat beside her, not saying anything at first. She just listened as Azzi vented, her words tumbling out in frustration.
“You’re amazing, Azzi,” Paige said softly when she finished. “If Amber can’t see that… it’s her loss.”
Azzi’s breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Paige could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the air between them heavy with something unspoken.
That night, as Azzi curled up in Paige’s bed and drifted off to sleep, Paige lay awake, staring at the ceiling and grappling with the truth: she was in love with Azzi.
For Azzi, the realization crept in slowly but hit her all at once. It wasn’t until she caught Paige looking at her during practice—really looking at her, with those dark, intent eyes—that she felt it.
Paige wanted her.
And the moment Azzi’s brain registered that, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting Paige too. It wasn’t just the way Paige made her feel seen, or the way her presence steadied Azzi in a way Amber never could. It was everything about her—the quiet strength, the soft encouragement, the way her lips curled into a knowing smile whenever Azzi said something sarcastic.
But she was still with Amber.
The guilt gnawed at her, but it didn’t stop her from staying up late to text Paige, or from seeking her out after practice, or from craving the way Paige made her feel. It was wrong, and messy, and complicated, but Azzi couldn’t help herself.
And the more Paige let her feelings slip—through lingering touches, teasing words, and the way her eyes softened whenever they were alone—the harder it was for Azzi to pull away.
The First Slip Up
It was supposed to be a fun, carefree night—a random house party off campus that some of the team decided to attend. Azzi hadn’t been in the mood to go, not really, but Amber insisted. She liked these kinds of things, the big crowds, the chance to “network” with people Azzi didn’t care to meet. And maybe Azzi would’ve said no, but Amber had a way of making her feel guilty for turning things down.
“Bruh come on, Azzi,” Amber said with a heavy sigh as they were getting ready. “You literally never wanna do anything I wanna do. You can’t just be about basketball all the time.”
So Azzi went, pulling on a long-sleeve shirt she hoped would keep her warm in the brisk Connecticut air as Amber rushed her out of the door.
By the time they approached the house, the coldness of the evening had already sunk into her bones. Azzi hugged her arms tightly against herself, glancing sideways at Amber who had on two sweaters.
“I’m freezing,” Azzi said, hoping Amber might offer a solution.
Amber glanced at her briefly, shrugging. “You should’ve brought a jacket.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t warm either. It was dismissive, like the problem was Azzi’s and not something Amber needed to worry about.
Azzi’s stomach twisted, but she didn’t push the issue, not wanting to argue anymore tonight. They stepped inside and the music was loud and the air was warmer than outside. Before Azzi could say anything, Amber spotted a group of girls she knew and disappeared into the crowd without so much as a glance.
Azzi exhaled and scanned the room looking for the team knowing at least one of them would stand out.
When she spotted Paige near the kitchen, surrounded by a few of their teammates, something in her chest loosened. Paige stood out in any room she was in, tall and composed, carrying herself with a natural ease that made people gravitate toward her. When Azzi made her way over, Paige looked up immediately, her eyes lighting up in a way that made Azzi feel like the only person in the room.
“Heyy, there’s the freshie,” Paige teased, her smile widening as Azzi came closer. But then her expression changed, her brows knitting together as she tilted her head. “You cold?”
Azzi blinked, startled. “What?”
“You’re shivering like crazy,” Paige said simply.
“No, I’ll be fine soon,” Azzi protested quickly, though her body betrayed her as another shiver ran through her.
Paige didn’t argue. She just pulled off her jacket—a soft, worn-in zip up that smelled like her soap and shampoo—and handed it to Azzi.
“Here,” Paige said, holding it out.
“Paige, you don’t have to—”
“Azzi,” Paige interrupted, “just take it.”
Azzi hesitated for a moment before reluctantly slipping it on. It was warm, the sleeves long enough to cover her hands that were still freezing, and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Paige grinned, satisfied.
But even with the jacket, the chill didn’t seem to fully leave Azzi’s body yet. Paige must’ve noticed, because before Azzi could protest, Paige stepped closer, wrapping her arms around her.
The hug was casual enough on the surface—just a friend warming up another friend—but it felt like more. Paige’s hands rubbed slow circles on Azzi’s back and Azzi felt herself relax against her. Her head tipped slightly, resting on Paige’s shoulder, and for a moment, the noise and chaos of the party faded into the background.
“You’re freezing. You need to put on a jacket next time,” Paige murmured, her breath warm against Azzi’s hair.
“Amber was rushing me so I couldn’t,” Azzi said quietly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Paige stiffened slightly but didn’t say anything. Her hands kept moving, rubbing against Azzi’s back to warm her up, and after a moment, she spoke.
��Well,” Paige said, her voice soft but edged with something Azzi couldn’t quite place, “you have mine now so you’ll be fine.”
Azzi pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Paige, and the way Paige was looking at her—it made Azzi’s breath catch. There was something unspoken in Paige’s gaze, something Azzi wasn’t sure she was ready to name.
“Thank you,” Azzi whispered
Paige smiled again, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course.”
The moment passed quickly—someone yelling Paige’s name from across the room, and she stepped away, though not before giving Azzi’s arm a quick squeeze and saying “I’ll find you later.”
Azzi wasn’t much of a drinker. She didn’t like how it dulled her mind or left her body sluggish, but tonight, after Amber’s repeated dismissals and her own growing frustration, she’d let herself indulge a little. Just enough to take the edge off.
Amber hadn’t noticed.
Azzi sighed again, watching as Amber laughed with a group of girls across the room. She had tried to hang around her girlfriend, to ease the tension that had settled between them for a while. Slipping her hand into Amber’s or leaning close during the conversation. But each time, Amber had pulled away or brushed her off.
“Azzi, not right now,” Amber said at one point with an edge of annoyance in her voice. “I’m trying to talk to them. You’re clingy when you’re drunk.”
The words stung more than Azzi cared to admit, and she found herself retreating, stepping back as Amber turned her attention fully to her friends.
She sighed again, deciding to walk away. But the house was packed, bodies pressed together in every corner, and Azzi quickly found herself a little stuck, barely able to navigate through the crowded room.
That’s when she felt a steady, warm hand resting lightly on her back.
“You good?” Paige’s familiar voice cut through the loud noise.
Azzi turned her head slightly, relief flooding through her as she saw Paige beside her. She nodded, not trusting her voice in the moment.
“Come on,” Paige said simply. As she guided Azzi with ease, her hand never left Azzi’s back as they weaved through the chaos. Paige moved like she was born to lead, her presence cutting through the crowd effortlessly, and Azzi found herself leaning into it, letting Paige take control.
When they finally emerged into a quieter corner of the house, Paige spotted an open spot on the couch and steered them toward it. They sank into the cushions together, and Azzi felt her shoulders relax for the first time all night.
“You good?” Paige asked again, her eyes scanning Azzi’s face.
Azzi nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for... that. It was getting a little overwhelming in there.”
“Yeah, I could tell,” Paige said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You looked like you were about to elbow somebody out of the way.”
Azzi laughed softly. “I was definitely close,” she admitted.
They settled into their usual rhythm easily, the conversation flowing like it always did. They talked about everything and nothing. Azzi found herself laughing more than she had all night, the tension in her chest easing with every word. Paige had a way of making her forget everything else going on in her head, of making her feel seen in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
At one point, someone came over to talk to Paige, pulling her attention away for a moment. Azzi instinctively shifted, as she was about to get up to give Paige space and go talk to the rest of the team, but Paige’s arm shot out, draping casually over the back of the couch, her hand resting near Azzi’s shoulder.
“Stay,” Paige said, glancing at her. The word wasn’t a command, but it held weight, a quiet reassurance that Paige didn’t want her to go anywhere.
Azzi froze for a moment, the warmth of Paige’s arm so close making her chest tighten. She nodded, staying right where she was, even as Paige turned to answer the person who’d approached.
When the conversation ended, Paige turned back to Azzi, a small grin on her face. “You need anything? Water? Soda? Something stronger?”
Azzi hesitated for a second before shrugging. “Water’s fine,” she said, grateful Paige even thought to ask.
“I’ll be right back,” Paige said, standing and weaving her way through the room towards the kitchen.
Azzi watched her go, the space beside her feeling oddly empty without Paige there. She fiddled with the hem of Paige’s sweater, her mind wandering back to Amber—wherever she was in this house—and the sharp contrast between her and Paige.
When Paige came back, she handed Azzi a bottle of water before settling back on the couch, her body angled slightly toward Azzi.
“Thanks,” Azzi said, cracking the bottle open and taking a sip.
“No problem.” Paige studied her for a moment before tilting her head slightly. “You look like you’re over this party.”
Azzi chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. “It’s not really my scene honestly,” she admitted. “Too loud. Too crowded. I don’t know half the people here, and the one person I came with...” She trailed off, shaking her head.
Paige frowned slightly but didn’t press her for more. Instead, she just sat there as she thought for a moment. Then, as if deciding something, she turned back to Azzi and reached out her hand.
“Come on,” Paige said.
Azzi blinked, looking down at Paige’s outstretched hand. “What?”
“Let’s go,” Paige said simply, her fingers wiggling slightly as if to prompt Azzi to take her hand.
Azzi hesitated for a moment longer before setting the water bottle down on the floor and slipping her hand into Paige’s. Paige’s fingers interlaced with hers immediately, her grip warm as she tugged Azzi up from the couch.
“Where are we going?” Azzi asked.
Paige glanced at her with a small smile, her hand still holding Azzi’s tightly. “Somewhere better,” she said.
Azzi followed her without question, though her mind buzzed with curiosity. Paige led her through the crowded house, their intertwined hands drawing a few curious glances but nothing that lingered for two long. They climbed a narrow staircase, Azzi stumbling slightly on the last step, but Paige steadied her with a soft laugh, her hand tightening around Azzi’s.
When they reached the top, Paige guided her down a hallway and pushed open a door. Azzi blinked in surprise as the cool night air hit her face. They were on a small outdoor balcony, completely empty and tucked away from the noise and chaos of the party below. String lights hung lazily along the edge of the railing, casting a warm glow over the space.
Azzi let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The air was crisp but refreshing, and she was still warm from the drinks and the faint buzz of Paige’s presence. Paige’s jacket hung loosely around her shoulders, and though the cold nipped at her face, she didn’t mind.
Paige let go of her hand but didn’t step far, turning to lean her back against the railing and taking in the view. “Better, right?” she asked softly, her voice almost swallowed by the hum of the party below.
Azzi nodded, moving to the railing and resting her forearms on it. “Yeah. Way better,” she murmured, looking out at the dark yard below. She felt Paige’s eyes on her but didn’t turn, letting the comfortable silence settle between them for a moment.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Paige said after a beat.
Azzi tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint smile. “You noticed?”
Paige scoffed softly, shifting to face her fully. “Of course I noticed, I’m me. Plus you’re not exactly the type to fade into the background but it feels like you kinda just been drifting tonight. Not as confident as usual.”
Azzi chuckled, her fingers playing with the hem of the jacket. “I don’t know. I guess... this just isn’t my scene,” she admitted. “I came because Amber wanted to….” She trailed off, shrugging slightly.
Paige’s gaze hardened a little, her jaw tightening at the mention of Amber, but she pushed the feeling aside. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here,” Paige said.
Azzi finally turned to look at her, her eyes searching Paige’s face. There was something about the way Paige was looking at her—intense but soft, like she was seeing every piece of her. It made Azzi’s stomach flip in a way she wasn’t ready to unpack.
“You are?” Azzi asked, her voice quiet but tinged with curiosity.
“Yeah,” Paige said, stepping closer now. Her voice dropped slightly.. “You’re the only one worth talking to here.”
Azzi’s heart stuttered in her chest, and she swallowed hard, glancing away briefly to compose herself. When she looked back, Paige had moved closer, so close that Azzi could feel the faint warmth radiating from her despite the cool night air.
Azzi leaned back against the railing, her hands gripping the edge lightly as she tilted her head to look at Paige. “You’re really sweet, you know that?” she teased, her tone light but her eyes giving away something deeper.
Paige arched a brow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Me? Sweet? Who would’ve guessed.”
Azzi smiled, her confidence sparking to life in the safety of their banter. “You make everything seem so effortless,” she said, her voice dipping slightly.
Paige let out a soft laugh, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s. “I could say the same about you,” she murmured, her tone quieter now..
The space between them felt incredibly small, and Azzi wasn’t sure if it was the drinks or the way Paige was looking at her, but she felt a pull, an ache between her legs that was as exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
Paige leaned in slightly, her hands coming to rest on the railing on both sides of Azzi, effectively boxing her in. She wasn’t touching her, not quite, but the proximity sent a shiver through Azzi’s body.
“You warm enough?” Paige asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Azzi nodded, her breath catching slightly. “Yeah. Your jacket’s helping,” she said, her fingers brushing the fabric lightly.
Paige’s eyes flicked down to the movement, then back up to Azzi’s face. “Good,” she said, her voice a little rougher now, her gaze holding Azzi’s.
For a moment, the noise of the party below faded completely, and it was just them, the night air, and the soft glow of the lights. Azzi felt her resolve slipping, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t fully control.
Paige tilted her head slightly, her face inches from Azzi’s now. “You’ve got that look again,” Paige said softly, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile.
“What look?” Azzi asked, her voice barely audible.
“The one that says you’re overthinking,” Paige teased.
Azzi let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head slightly. “Maybe I am,” she admitted.
Paige’s smile softened, and she reached up, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from Azzi’s face. “Don’t,” she said simply.
Azzi didn’t know how to respond or how to react, so she didn’t. She just held Paige’s gaze, the space between them filled with an unspoken tension. For a moment, neither of them said anything, the soft hum of the night enveloping them.
Finally, Azzi broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper. “Thank you.”
Paige’s brow furrowed slightly, and she smiled softly. “For what?”
Azzi hesitated for a second, her eyes flickering down to the jacket she was still wearing, then back to Paige’s face. “For everything,” she said simply, her tone almost vulnerable.
Paige’s expression softened even further, her lips curving into a gentle smile. “Don’t mention it.”
She raised her red cup to her lips, intending to finish off the rest of the drink, but before she could finish it completely, Azzi tilted her head slightly, her voice cutting through the stillness. “Can I have some?”
Paige blinked, then grinned, holding the cup out toward her. “You can kill the rest,” she said casually, her fingers brushing Azzi’s as she handed it over.
Azzi took the cup, the faintest smile tugging at her lips as she tipped it back, finishing the drink in a few quick swallows. The warmth from the alcohol spread through her chest, but it wasn’t nearly as strong as the warmth radiating from Paige, who stood just inches away. Azzi set the empty cup down on the railing behind her.
Azzi set the empty cup down on the railing, her fingers brushing over the smooth surface before she turned back to face Paige. She hadn’t realized how close Paige had gotten, her arms still braced on either side of the railing.
“You look good in my jacket,” Paige said, the compliment coming out smoothly. Her eyes scanned Azzi, lingering for just a second longer than they probably should have as she took her in.
Azzi felt a blush creep up her neck, but she masked it with a soft laugh. “Yeah? Guess I’m doing you a favor, making it look better.”
Paige smirked, her hand sliding casually to rest on Azzi’s hip, her touch light but deliberate. “Exactly,” she murmured, tilting her head as her gaze locked on Azzi’s. “You make it look better.”
Azzi’s breath caught for a moment, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the warmth of Paige’s hand on her or the way Paige was looking at her, like she was undressing her with her eyes. “You’re bold tonight,” she managed, her voice softer than she intended.
Paige’s smirk deepened, her thumb brushing over the fabric of the jacket. “Just telling the truth,” she said. “You look... really pretty tonight, Az.”
Azzi blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Paige’s tone. It wasn’t the first time someone had called her pretty, but the way Paige said it made her feel different. “You’ve had a few drinks,” Azzi said lightly, trying to deflect.
Paige leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it gorgeous.”
Azzi swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She should’ve stepped back, should’ve said something to lighten the moment, but instead, she stayed rooted to the spot, her body betraying her. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Paige chuckled softly, her hand still resting on Azzi’s hip as her gaze flickered down to Azzi’s lips for the briefest of moments before returning to her eyes. “Only if you want me to be,” she replied.
Azzi raised an eyebrow, shaking her head slightly. “You’re too good for that,” she said softly.
Paige leaned in just a little closer, her voice barely a whisper as she teased, “What do you mean?”
Azzi exhaled a quiet laugh, trying to brush it off, but the moment felt too heavy to laugh it off. “You’re a good person Paige,” Azzi said, her voice softening at the admission.
Paige smiled, a slow, satisfied grin pulling at her lips. “I am,” she said, a hint of pride in her tone.
Azzi didn’t respond immediately, her heart beating just a little faster as she glanced at Paige, the warmth from their closeness making her skin tingle. “So you’re not going to let me cheat tonight,” Azzi murmured, a little unsure why the words slipped out.
Paige didn’t pull away, though. Her hand remained on Azzi’s hip, her body still close enough that Azzi could feel the heat radiating between them. She just looked at Azzi for a beat too long, her eyes locked onto hers, saying nothing.
For a second, everything hung in the balance. Azzi felt herself holding her breath, her body unsure of what to do next. But before she could make up her mind, a voice interrupted the moment.
“Ahem.”
The sound was unmistakable—clear, direct, and too familiar. Azzi’s stomach dropped as she turned her head slightly, glancing over Paige’s shoulder.
Amber stood a few feet away, her eyes narrowed, her arms crossed over her chest. The discomfort was clear, but at that moment, Azzi didn’t jerk away. She didn’t pull back.
Instead, she stayed rooted to the spot, holding Paige’s gaze. For a heartbeat, she let herself savor the closeness, the pull of something real between her and Paige. Then, she finally glanced back at Amber—seeing the look on her face—and it hit Azzi with a quiet, unsettling clarity.
This was probably when Azzi should’ve ended things with Amber. The realization hit her harder than she expected, but it didn’t feel like a mistake—it felt like the truth.
Azzi didn’t break the moment quickly, though. Instead, she smiled softly at Paige, a small, genuine smile that conveyed more than words ever could. Paige’s expression softened in response, her eyes warm with something almost like understanding, even though she said nothing.
Azzi pushed gently against Paige’s waist, a quiet movement that separated them just enough to give her space to breathe. “I should go,” Azzi said, her voice soft but steady, as she stepped away from the railing.
Paige smiled at her, a gentle, almost wistful curve of her lips. “Get home safe, Azzi,” she said, her voice carrying an underlying warmth.
Azzi returned the smile. “I’ll text you,” she murmured, before turning toward the hallway. She couldn’t quite look back, not with that lingering tension between them.
As Azzi made her way down the stairs, she noticed Amber already ahead of her, walking with purpose, the distance between them increasing by the second. Azzi’s steps purposely slowed, her mind still racing with everything that had just happened—what she had almost let happen.
When they finally stepped outside, the crisp night air hit her, making her pull Paige’s jacket closer around herself. Amber, who had been silent up until now, suddenly stopped walking and turned sharply to face Azzi, her jaw set.
“What the hell was that?” Amber’s voice was low but heated, frustration clear in every word.
Azzi blinked at her, not breaking her stride as she pulled the zipper on the jacket higher, securing it snugly against the cold. “Nothing,” she said flatly, keeping her tone calm.
Amber’s eyes flicked down to the jacket, her brow furrowing as if noticing it for the first time. “Whose jacket is that?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Azzi replied, her eyes focused ahead as she kept walking.
“It does matter,” Amber shot back, quickening her steps to keep up with her. “You’ve got some random person’s jacket on like it’s normal or something.”
Azzi chuckled under her breath, the sound humorless. She finally glanced at Amber, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s literally a jacket, Amber. You’re being childish.”
Amber stopped in her tracks, her hands balling into fists at her sides as she stared after Azzi. “Childish?” she repeated, her voice rising slightly. “You’re walking around in someone else’s clothes, and I’m supposed to just ignore that?!”
Azzi sighed, exasperated, as she turned around to face her. “It’s really not that deep. I was cold and you wouldn’t give me yours so…”
Amber’s face twisted in disbelief, her frustration clear, but Azzi didn’t wait for her to say anything else. She turned back around, her hands burying themselves in the jacket’s pockets, and started walking toward the dorms again, leaving Amber standing there in silence.
The Second Slip Up
The night at Ted’s was supposed to be a break—a chance for everyone to unwind after a long stretch of games and practice. The team had been looking forward to it all week, and Azzi, too, had been excited to just let loose for a while. But everything had been sour before she even left. Her argument with Amber had been heated—one that nearly turned into a screaming match—but it was the same pattern as always. Amber had wanted Azzi to drop everything and come to the DMV for a week, something about an interview, but Azzi told her she couldn’t just throw her responsibilities aside. She had two games, practices, and meetings. Amber didn’t understand, once again insulting Azzi and it led to another fight.
Still, despite the tension, Azzi wanted to go out. Amber, always aggressive when she didn’t get her way, was all over Azzi the moment they walked into Ted’s even though Azzi wasn’t interested. She tried to pull Azzi into a dance, dragging her by the hand, her lips kissing at Azzi’s neck, whispering promises Azzi wasn’t sure she could still believe in.
Paige, on the other hand, was across the room, surrounded by a few of the girls from the team, laughing and “dancing” with a random girl who was at the bar. Azzi tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest when her eyes found Paige's across the crowded room. She couldn’t help herself—there was something magnetic about her, something that called to Azzi even from a distance.
The moment they locked eyes, Azzi felt everything inside her still. Amber’s hand was on her waist, pulling her into the chaotic rhythm of the music, but Azzi wasn’t moving, she couldn’t focus on anything except the way Paige was looking at her. Her usually bright blue eyes were darker than usual, her gaze intense as she sipped her drink, not blinking, as if she were daring Azzi to look away first. And for a moment, Azzi forgot how to breathe.
The world seemed to slow down. Amber was still murmuring into Azzi's ear, but Azzi couldn’t hear her. Her words were drowned out by the music and the rapid beat of her heart. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Paige. It felt like a secret shared between them, even though they hadn’t said a word.
Paige’s gaze never wavered, and Azzi could feel everything between them, like the entire room had been reduced to just the two of them. Amber, oblivious to the tension building, continued to cling to Azzi, her whispers falling on deaf ears. Azzi barely even registered what Amber was saying.
Azzi’s chest tightened as the girl dancing on Paige didn’t back off. Instead, she leaned in closer, her body grinding against Paige's as she ran her acrylics slowly down Paige's jaw, tracing the curve of her face and lips. Azzi watched the movement, her stomach twisting as Paige barely reacted. Her eyes were locked on Azzi, unmoving, unblinking, as if nothing else in the room mattered, not even the girl trying to press herself closer to Paige.
Azzi could feel the heat creeping up her neck, the possessiveness bubbling inside her, even though she had no right to feel it. Amber's hand was still on Azzi's waist, trying to pull her into the rhythm of the music, but Azzi couldn’t bring herself to care. Not while Paige’s gaze was still locked on her.
The girl on Paige’s body kept dancing, but Paige’s focus was unwavering. Paige smirked slightly as the girl's hands ran over her neck, as if she knew Azzi wouldn’t like it. Still, her eyes never leave Azzi’s.
It was like a silent challenge, a dare to Azzi to make a move, to step in and claim what could be hers, but Azzi was frozen. She was stuck, caught between the familiarity of Amber and the pull she felt toward Paige, the way Paige's eyes seemed to tug at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain.
Amber, noticing Azzi's lingering stare, tugged her closer, leaning into her ear. “Babyyy, you’re not even paying attention,” she said, but Azzi still barely heard her. All she could focus on was the way Paige’s gaze had deepened, how there was something raw and magnetic about the way she looked at her.
As Paige slowly took another sip from her drink, Azzi noticed how the girl's hand slid down Paige's side to her hips, and for a brief moment, Azzi wanted to rip her hand off. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She was still stuck in Amber’s grip, still trying to hold onto something that was slipping through her fingers.
"Who are you looking at like that?" Amber's voice cut through the haze, and Azzi blinked, tearing her eyes away from Paige to look at Amber, but the heat between her and Paige still lingered, like a flame Azzi couldn’t put out.
Azzi hadn’t planned on doing anything that night. She was determined to be respectful, to keep her distance from Paige and stay respectful to her relationship, like she always had. She’d made up her mind to stay out of the way, to avoid any of the tension that had been building between her and Paige. She thought if she could just make it through tonight without any issues, everything would be fine. But then after a few drinks Amber had to go and make everything complicated.
Amber wasn’t just rude that night. She was worse—she was dismissive, condescending, and cruel in a way Azzi hadn’t seen in a long time. It was though all the frustrations Amber had been bottling up for weeks finally exploded, and Azzi was the target. Amber fully snapped at Azzi when she pushed her off gently and tried to suggest they grab a drink instead of dancing. She accused Azzi of ignoring her all night, accused her of being self-absorbed, accusing her of not wasting her time playing a game rather than trying to better their relationship and so much more.. Each comment felt like a jab, cutting deeper than the last.
Azzi tried to brush it off at first, telling herself it was just the alcohol or a bad mood, but it didn’t stop. Amber’s insults, her passive-aggressive remarks, and the way she treated Azzi like she was nothing more than an accessory to her life—it all piled up.
The quiet argument had escalated quickly, spiraling out of control before Azzi even had a chance to process it. “Call me when you’re done being so fucking self-centered,” Amber spat. She didn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and storming out of Ted’s.
Azzi stood there for a moment, watching the door swing shut behind Amber. A sigh left her lips, but she didn’t let herself dwell on it, she honestly didn’t feel bad about it. The tension in her chest loosened as she turned back to the team, who, like her, were already a few drinks in, their mood carefree and light. It was easy to slip back into their energy, letting the music and laughter fill the space Amber had left.
The drinks flowed freely, and with each one, Azzi felt herself relax more. She didn’t have to force anything; the team’s energy was infectious, and before long, she found herself genuinely enjoying everything. Paige was initially on the other side of the room, laughing with Evina and Olivia, but like a magnet, they naturally drifted toward each other. Neither of them said anything as their proximity closed; it was unspoken, almost instinctual, like gravity pulling them together.
Paige didn’t even realize how close she had gotten until Azzi reached out, her hand finding Paige’s wrist and gently tugging her closer. The tug wasn’t rushed or eager—it was simple and confident, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Paige felt her pulse quicken, but she didn’t hesitate. She let herself fall into the moment, her hands sliding around Azzi’s waist as the music guided them.
They started swaying to the beat, bodies pressed together as neither one of them said anything. Paige’s arms tightened slightly around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer. Their movements grew more fluid as Azzi wrapped her arm around Paige’s shoulder, her hands coming together to rest on her head. Neither spoke a word, but their silence was filled with a quiet understanding, the tension between them growing.
Azzi’s eyes flicked to Paige’s lips, and Paige caught the movement, making her instinctually lick them. The air between them continues to grow heavier, their gazes dancing between each other’s lips and eyes, silently asking questions neither of them said out loud.
Azzi, trying her best to keep her composure, let her head dip down, resting lightly on Paige’s shoulder. Her breath fanning across Paige’s neck, the simple warmth of it making Paige clench her jaw. Azzi’s lips hovered tantalizingly close to Paige’s skin, not quite touching but close enough that Paige could feel the ghost of them. Paige’s fingers tightened slightly on Azzi’s waist, her own breaths shallow as she tried to steady herself.
Their dancing grew needier, the space between them nonexistent. It wasn’t just the physical closeness; it was the way they seemed to be silently communicating through every glance, every brush of skin. Paige closed her eyes for a brief moment, soaking in the sensation, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure Azzi could hear it.
Without warning, Azzi crossed the line between hovering and touching.
Her lips ghosted over Paige’s neck, softly. It wasn’t aggressive or rushed—just featherlight kisses that sent sparks racing through Paige’s veins. Paige sighed audibly, her jaw tightening as she fought to keep her composure. Her fingers dug into Azzi’s hips reflexively, grounding herself so she didn’t lose it entirely in the middle of the bar.
Azzi noticed the way Paige’s body tensed under her touch, and it only fueled her. As she let her lips linger a moment longer, the pressure slightly firmer now in a few spots, before pulling back just enough to murmur into Paige’s ear.
“Meet me in the bathroom.”
Paige’s eyes opened, her grip on Azzi’s waist faltering as her heart raced. Before she could respond, Azzi was already stepping back, her touch slipping away like sand through Paige’s fingers.
Azzi didn’t look back as she walked toward the bathroom. Paige stood there for a moment, frozen, the ghost of Azzi’s touch and the warmth of her lips still lingering on her skin.
The music continued around her, the chatter and laughter of the team and other patrons filling the space, but it all felt distant now. Paige’s focus was entirely on the retreating figure of Azzi, her heart pounding as she weighed her next move.
Her lips curved into a subtle, almost involuntary smirk as she exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself. There was no real decision to make—her body had already made it for her. With one last glance around the bar, Paige slipped through the crowd, following the same path Azzi had taken moments earlier.
When Paige stepped into the dimly lit bathroom, her gaze locked onto Azzi, who was leaning casually against the sink. Azzi’s eyes flicked up to meet Paige’s, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
Paige didn’t say a word as she turned and locked the door behind her with a click, the sound echoing in the space. Her hand lingered on the lock for a second longer than necessary, steadying herself as she exhaled, before slowly facing Azzi again.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them thick. Azzi’s smirk faltered slightly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she studied Paige’s expression. It wasn’t playful or hesitant—Paige’s eyes burned with something Azzi couldn’t place, her chest rising and falling as though she was barely holding herself back.
The silence was broken when Azzi took two quick steps forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. Without warning, her hands gripped the front of Paige’s shirt, pushing her back until Paige’s shoulders hit the cool wall with a thud. Azzi’s lips were on hers immediately, the kiss urgent and messy, tongues battling one another as they fought for control.
Paige’s hands instinctively went to Azzi’s waist, her fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt as she pulled her even closer. Azzi pressed against her fully, her grip tightening on Paige’s shirt, but it was clear neither one of them was willing to give up control.
Then, in a quick movement that left Azzi momentarily stunned, Paige flipped their positions, slamming Azzi’s back against the wall with a force that made her gasp. Azzi’s head tilted back slightly from the impact, her lips parting in surprise, but her body instantly responded to the dominance radiating from Paige.
The heat coursed through Azzi, her breath hitching as she met Paige’s gaze. No one had ever handled her like this before—there was a certainty, a confidence in Paige’s actions that excited Azzi.
Paige didn’t give her much time to process, her lips crashing back onto Azzi’s with the same fervor as before. Her hands slid down Azzi’s sides, gripping her hips firmly as she pressed her body against Azzi’s, pinning her to the wall. Azzi let out a soft moan against Paige’s lips, her own hands tangling in Paige’s hair as she pulled her even closer, the world outside that bathroom disappearing entirely.
The two of them stayed locked in that rhythm, bodies pressed impossibly close, lips and hands moving with an urgency that neither seemed able—or willing—to control. Paige’s grip on Azzi’s hips remained firm, holding her in place every time Azzi tried to shift, a silent but undeniable reflection of her dominance.
As their kisses deepened, Paige’s lips began trailing down Azzi’s jaw. She kissed and sucked softly along the curve, her movements careful not to leave any marks. Azzi’s head tilted instinctively, giving Paige better access even as her mind began to catch up to her body.
The thought of Paige leaving marks on her skin—of something so visible, so undeniably real—triggered a sudden flicker of realization. Azzi’s heart pounded in her chest, her breathing shallow as she tried to fight the pull of Paige’s lips, her touch, her everything.
“Paige…” Azzi’s voice came out barely above a whisper, shaky and uncertain, her resolve faltering even as the word left her lips. Paige didn’t seem to hear her—or maybe she did and thought Azzi was whispering her name for other reasons—because she continued, her lips sucking against the sensitive spot just below Azzi’s ear, drawing a sharp inhale from her.
Azzi squeezed her eyes shut, pulling every ounce of willpower she could muster. This time, she took a deep, steadying breath and whispered more firmly, “Paige stop.” She gently pushed at Paige’s shoulders, just enough to create a space between them.
Paige stilled immediately, her hands falling away from Azzi’s hips, her hazy eyes snapping up to meet Azzi’s. The awe and unfiltered admiration written across Paige’s face made Azzi’s chest ache, her throat tightening painfully as she tried to find the right words.
“We can’t,” Azzi said softly, the words catching in her throat as her hands lingered on Paige’s shoulders, not wanting to completely let go yet.
Pain flickered in Paige’s eyes briefly but she quickly masked it as she reached out, her hand gently cupping Azzi’s cheek slowly. “It’s okay,” she said softly, forcing her voice to sound understanding.
“I…Um... I should go,” Azzi said quietly, her voice barely audible over the thundering in her chest. She turned to leave, but Paige’s voice stopped her.
“Get home safe Az,” Paige said softly.
Azzi didn’t turn back as she walked out, her mind a storm of emotions, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on her chest. She couldn’t look at Paige again. Not right now.
Later that night Azzi finally mustered the courage to go talk to Paige. She needed to explain, or at least some kind of resolution to everything swirling between them. The night’s events—especially the kiss in the bathroom—kept replaying in her mind, and she couldn't get rid of the knot in her stomach. She knew she couldn’t just let things sit unresolved between them. But she didn’t know what to expect when she knocked on Paige’s dorm door.
As she walked down the hall toward Paige’s room, Azzi felt her heart pound in her chest. Her hand hovered over the door, and for a moment, she paused, wondering if this was the right thing to do. But before she could knock, she heard something from inside Paige’s room—a sound that made her blood run cold.
“Paige! Oh my god, Fuck Paige.” A girl’s voice, excited and a little too loud for the quiet of the dorms.
Azzi’s stomach dropped. She froze, her hand still in the air. The sound of the girl calling Paige’s name echoed in her ears, and Azzi could feel a wave of nausea rise in her throat. Her pulse quickened, and her breath caught in her chest.
It hurt, even though Azzi couldn’t explain why. She wanted to shake it off, to remind herself that she wasn’t with Paige and that she had no claim on her, but the sting wouldn’t go away.
She stood there for a long moment, paralyzed by the sick feeling in her stomach. She couldn’t even bring herself to knock on the door anymore. Instead, she backed away, feeling like she couldn’t catch her breath. The feeling of walking into Paige’s room and finding that girl with her—that girl whose name she didn’t even know but who had already made Azzi feel small—was too much.
Azzi turned and walked quickly down the hallway, away from Paige’s room, her heart racing in her chest.
For the next few weeks, Paige and Azzi kept things friendly, almost as if that night at Ted's had never happened. They didn’t bring it up once—no awkward glances, no mention of the kiss. They were good at pretending. To anyone else, they were just two friends hanging out, enjoying the occasional late-night talk, laughing at inside jokes, and sharing glances across the room. And for a while, that worked. They kept it light and uncomplicated. But Azzi knew, deep down, that something had changed.
It wasn’t until they found themselves at another party that the cracks started to show again. Clearly alcohol was their biggest enemy. This time, it was more of a low-key kickback in someone’s suite—still loud and filled with the hum of music and chatter, but less crowded than a full on party. Azzi was grateful for that; she didn’t want to deal with the crowds of people that had made everything feel so messy the last time.
Amber hadn’t so much as glanced at her all night, spending the majority of her time with some girl from her law class who kept trailing after her, whispering in her ear, and laughing like they were in their own little world. Azzi didn’t mind. In fact, it was a relief. She didn’t want to deal with Amber tonight. She just wanted to get through the evening without any drama—something she knew she was starting to crave, especially when it came to Paige.
Paige was there too, of course, as she always was. She wasn’t exactly the life of the party, but she was still fun to be around. Her usual carefree energy, though, was tempered by something tonight. Azzi couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something in the way Paige held herself, the way she lingered a little too long in Azzi’s space when they shared a laugh, or the way their hands brushed as they passed each other in the small crowd.
For a while, Azzi managed to focus on other things—laughing at jokes, chatting with some of their teammates, and even dancing a little. But it wasn’t long before Paige’s presence became undeniable again. Every time she looked in Paige’s direction, there was something magnetic about her. She found herself gravitating back toward her, unable to resist the pull.
And then, of course, the alcohol kicked in. The drinks kept flowing, and just like the last time, the line between friendly and something more began to blur. Azzi caught herself looking at Paige longer than necessary, noticing the way the light hit her face or how her lips curled into a smile when she said something funny. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own, responding to the subtle cues, the closeness they shared.
The night seemed to slip into a haze after a few too many drinks. The music was louder, the air warmer with the scent of alcohol and bodies pressed together. Azzi, already feeling the effects of the alcohol, found herself near Paige again. Azzi tried to focus on something else—anything else—so her eyes flickered back to Amber, still deep in conversation with the same girl from her law class.
Azzi wasn’t even upset, she was just curious about the situation, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Paige followed her line of sight, eyes narrowing slightly as she saw the same thing Azzi did. Amber was leaning in, her lips too close to the other girl’s ear, her body language clearly more than friendly. For a moment, Paige didn’t know what came over her, but she felt a spark of something, something protective that pushed her forward. Before she had a chance to second-guess it, she stood from her spot and pulled Azzi gently but firmly onto her lap on the couch, wrapping her arms around her waist.
The sudden proximity caught Azzi off guard. She could feel Paige’s heartbeat against her back, the warmth of her body pressing against hers, and the weight of Paige’s arms as they tightened around her. Azzi tensed slightly, not sure how to react to the intensity of the moment. But then Paige’s voice, soft and soothing, brushed against her ear.
“Just relax,” Paige whispered, her breath warm on Azzi’s skin. It was as if the simple words unlocked something inside Azzi. She felt her body hum, a subtle tension easing as Paige’s words settled in her mind. She leaned back slightly, her head resting against Paige’s chest, the solid thump of her heartbeat grounding her.
Paige’s voice was soft against Azzi’s ear as she whispered, "You know you're much prettier than whoever she's talking to." Azzi couldn’t help the hum that escaped her lips, the sound almost a mixture of appreciation and something else.
Paige’s voice dipped lower. “I would never do you like that.”
Azzi stayed still for a moment, leaning comfortably against Paige’s chest, but her words came out without hesitation. “You did.”
Paige froze for a second, confused, her arms tightening around Azzi instinctively. "Whatchu mean?"
Azzi let out a breath, her heart racing with the weight of the conversation, and she turned her head just enough to rest her cheek against Paige’s chest. “That night after Ted’s… I came to talk to you.”
Paige stiffened, her jaw clenching slightly. She didn’t need to hear more. She already knew exactly what Azzi was talking about. The air between them shifted, the lightness of their previous banter now replaced by an unspoken tension.
She tightened her grip around Azzi, not out of force but to keep her close, to prevent the moment from slipping out of her control. "I was drunk," Paige said quietly, though her tone betrayed a hint of guilt.
Azzi didn’t say anything for a long moment. Her chest felt tight, not just from the closeness, but from Paige’s words. She didn’t know why it hurt more to hear that it had been a moment of drunken weakness than if Paige had just admitted it had been something more. But she swallowed hard, pushing the sting of it down.
“Yeah, well.” Azzi finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between them, as cutting as the silence that followed.
Paige let out a frustrated breath, but instead of getting defensive, she spoke with more restraint. “You wanna know something?” Her voice was quieter now.
Azzi nodded her head gently against Paige’s chest, her heart pounding in anticipation. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at Paige just yet, not wanting to see what might be written on her face.
Paige’s lips brushed against Azzi’s ear as she spoke, lowering her voice even more, making Azzi shiver. “Your name slipped out.”
Azzi’s breath hitched at that, her body instinctively turning, as if the words had unlocked something inside her. She was trying to turn to face Paige, to process what had just been said, but Paige’s grip on her tightened, keeping her in place, pressing her body flush against hers.
“Don’t. Just listen,” Paige murmured. Azzi felt the heat of Paige’s breath against her neck, and despite the knot in her stomach, she couldn’t pull away. Paige’s arms were like anchors, steadying her in the midst of the storm inside her.
Amber’s gaze shifted across the room, her eyes narrowing when she spotted the two of them. She had been too distracted by the girl from her law class, but now that she was looking, it was impossible to ignore the way Azzi and Paige were practically wrapped around each other. Paige’s arm was snugly around Azzi’s waist, their heads tilted toward each other, too close. Amber felt a surge of anger rise within her as she watched Paige’s lips move near Azzi’s ear, whispering something she couldn’t hear but could certainly imagine as Azzi’s eyes fluttered closed and she crossed her legs.
Amber’s grip on her drink tightened, and her pulse quickened. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Azzi was lost in the moment, but then, out of the corner of her eye she felt Amber’s gaze. The air seemed to thicken, and Azzi could feel the tension spike instantly, even before Paige noticed.
Amber’s eyes were locked on her and Paige, and the fury in her gaze was clear. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her posture was rigid. Azzi knew Amber well enough to see the storm brewing in her eyes, but for the first time, it didn’t feel like it was directed solely at Azzi. It was as if Amber was furious with Paige too.
Paige, however, seemed to enjoy the spectacle once she noticed. Her smirk widening as she notices Amber staring at them. She didn’t break eye contact with Amber. Instead, she leaned in closer to Azzi, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper that sent an involuntary shiver through her.
"You want me to let go?"
Azzi’s eyes flickered toward Amber, still standing across the room, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. Azzi paused, her heart racing as she considered Paige’s question.
She knew Amber was watching. And yet, as her mind spun with uncertainty, her body couldn’t help but answer for her. She shook her head softly, her voice barely a whisper as she responded, "No."
Paige’s smile was slow and full of satisfaction, a gleam of triumph in her eyes as she tightened her hold on Azzi, pulling her impossibly closer. Azzi felt the pressure of Paige’s arms wrapping around her, keeping her in place as Paige’s lips descended on her neck, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss against the sensitive skin there.
Azzi's breath caught in her throat, her body trembling slightly from the gentle caress as she bit her lip. Paige made sure to angle her head just enough so that Amber could see every move, every touch. The kiss lingered for a moment longer than necessary, the intimacy of it undeniable.
Paige pulled away just slightly, her gaze flicking over to Amber, locking eyes with her again in an almost mocking way. She knew Amber was furious, but it seemed like the moment only fueled Paige’s smirk, her confidence growing as she deliberately pressed closer to Azzi, the whole scene laid out in front of Amber’s watchful eyes.
Azzi, still caught in the feeling of Paige’s touch, swallowed hard, trying to focus on the situation at hand. But Paige had effectively shifted the focus back to Amber, making sure that whatever was happening—whatever was about to happen—Amber couldn’t look away.
Paige kissed Azzi’s neck a few more times, each press of her lips making Azzi’s pulse quicken.
The soft, lingering touches felt like they were meant for no one but her, and for a moment, everything else faded. Azzi’s breath became shallow, her body leaning into Paige’s embrace, her mind clouded completely by the heat of the moment.
But then, the spell was broken.
Amber, whose eyes blazing with a mix of rage and intoxication, stormed across the room. Her movements were unsteady. Without hesitation, Amber yanked Azzi off of Paige, the movement more forceful than necessary.
Azzi stumbled slightly, the abruptness of the action catching her off guard, but before she could even regain her balance, Paige was standing up quickly, her posture stiff, her jaw clenching with anger. She stepped in front of Azzi, putting herself between them, her eyes flashing as she looked Amber up and down.
“Don’t fucking touch her like that,” Paige’s voice was low but still controlled enough.
Amber, still fuming, sneered at Paige.. “I can touch her however the fuck I want to,” she spat, her voice slurred just enough to reflect how drunk she was. She took a step toward Azzi, her hand reaching out again as if to make her point as she tried to grab Azzit.
Paige stepped between them before she could get any closer. “Yo, you needa chill,” Paige said.
Amber ignored her and reached for Azzi again, but Paige’s hand shot out, stopping her in her tracks. “Bro, she’s not going with you. You’re crashing out,” Paige said. Her eyes locked on Amber’s with a mix of warning and restraint.
Amber let out a bitter chuckle, her drunkenness masking the anger simmering beneath. “I promise you haven’t seen that yet,” she snapped.
Paige didn’t flinch. She didn’t step back. Instead, she moved closer, her jaw clenching even tighter. The air between them was thick and for a moment, it felt like the room had gone silent, everyone holding their breath to see what would happen next.
Just as the situation was about to tip over the edge, Evina appeared out of nowhere, throwing her arm around Paige’s shoulders casually.. “Yo, you good, P?” she asked, her voice light but carrying enough weight to cut through the tension.
Paige didn’t take her eyes off Amber, their gaze still locked. “Yeah, I’m good E.”
Evina, still sensing the storm brewing, gently started nudging Paige back, her arm firm around her shoulders. “Alright, then. Let’s keep it that way,” she said, her tone calm as she tried to defuse the situation before it exploded.
Paige let it happen, allowing Evina to put some space between her and Amber, though her eyes never left Amber’s face. The message was clear.
Amber’s voice cut through the heavy silence.. “Azzi this is bullshit, let’s go.”.
Azzi didn’t move from her position near Paige, her body tense, clearly caught in an internal battle. Her eyes flicked between Amber and Paige, knowing her answer but unsure of what to say. How to say it.
Amber’s frustration turned to disbelief as she took a step forward, her movements aggressive. “Azzi, are you fucking serious right now?” she snapped, her voice rising. She tried to get closer to Azzi, but Paige was there again, stepping in and blocking her path.
“She clearly doesn’t wanna go with you, just let it go,” Paige said.
Amber scoffed, glaring at Paige like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “She can speak for herself. She’s not a fucking toddler,” she shot back, her anger bubbling over.
The words seemed to snap Azzi out of her internal battle. She straightened her posture, inhaling deeply as she finally found her voice. “I’m just gonna stay with Paige tonight.”
Amber froze, her expression shifting from anger to shock as the weight of Azzi’s words sunk in. “What the fuck do you mean you’re staying with Paige tonight?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly, the disbelief clear.
Azzi’s gaze didn’t falter as she replied, her voice a little firmer this time. “You can go be with whoever you want from law class and I’m going to stay with Paige.”
The room seemed to still, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. Azzi didn’t need to elaborate further. The implication in her words was clear, and Amber understood exactly what she meant.
Amber let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked between Azzi and Paige. “Wow,” she muttered. “Almost three years of my life down the fucking drain.”
For a moment, Amber stood there, her chest rising and falling as if she wanted to say more, but no words came. With a sharp turn, she stormed toward the counter. Grabbing an empty glass, she poured herself a hefty drink, the sound of liquid hitting glass cutting through the tense silence.
Azzi exhaled shakily, her shoulders slumping as the weight of the moment settled over her. She stared at the floor, processing everything, her mind racing with emotions she couldn’t untangle.
Paige noticed. She stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Azzi’s back to draw her attention. Azzi glanced at her, her watery eyes betraying the calm facade she was trying to keep.
“You good?” Paige asked softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.
Azzi gave her a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine,” she murmured, but the slight tremor in her voice told another story.
Paige studied her carefully, reading every detail—the tenseness of her shoulders, the glossiness of her pretty brown eyes, the way her hands fidgeted. She saw it all: the hurt, the relief, and the overwhelming weight of the decision Azzi had just made.
After a moment, Paige leaned in slightly. “You wanna get outta here?”
Azzi blinked quickly, trying to chase away the tears that were trying to spill over. She looked at Paige, the question hanging in the air like an open door, a perfect escape that she desperately needed. With a small nod, she said.
“Yes. Please.”
Without another word, Paige slid her arm around Azzi’s shoulders and Azzi melted into her side, leaning her head slightly against Paige's as they made their way to the door.
Some people in the room seemed to register the moment. Heads turned the weight of their departure together a little more serious.
After that, it was like the universe conspired to give Azzi small, quiet signs the rest of the night, reassuring her that she’d made the right decision.
The first came in the form of Paige when they got back to the room. She didn’t push or pry for information or what this meant for them; she simply held Azzi, her arms wrapped securely around her while silent tears slipped down Azzi’s face. It wasn’t dramatic or loud—just a quiet release as Azzi processed the reality of what had happened. She wasn’t exactly sad, but the weight of ending a nearly three-year relationship pressed on her chest.
Paige didn’t say anything. She didn’t try to fill the silence with platitudes or ask if Azzi wanted to talk. She just stayed there, letting Azzi’s tears fall against her chest, dampening her chest.
That was the first sign—because Azzi didn’t know anyone else, besides sweet and gentle Paige, who would hold the girl they were in love with while she cried over her ex. It was a selfless love that Azzi hadn’t experienced before, the kind of quiet genuine love that didn’t demand gratitude or expect anything in return.
Eventually, the tears slowed, Azzi’s body growing heavier in Paige’s arms. Her breathing evened out, her exhaustion catching up to her.
Paige didn’t move, didn’t let go, even as Azzi drifted to sleep against her chest, her tears drying where they’d fallen.
The next moment the universe seemed to confirm Azzi had made the right choice came later that night. Paige hadn’t fully let herself fall asleep yet. She was hovering in that space between wakefulness and rest, a part of her instinctively still alert because she knew what might happen.
Hours later, Azzi began to stir, soft murmurs turning into restless movements as her breathing changed. The effects of a bad dream pulled her out of sleep, and she woke with a slight panic.
But Paige was there.
Within seconds, Paige tightened her arms around Azzi, pulling her back down to the mattress, whispering groggily, “It’s just a dream, Az.” Her voice was a little raspy from sleep, barely above a murmur, but it anchored Azzi.
Azzi stayed still, her breath shaky as she tried to gather herself. Paige, still half-asleep, spooned her tightly, her hold warm and reassuring, her presence a contrast for Azzi’s frayed nerves. They didn’t say anything for a while, letting the silence stretch out between them as Paige’s coconut-and-vanilla scent surrounded Azzi.
Azzi lay there, her mind racing as she processed everything—where she finally was, who she was with, and how different it felt. Finally, she whispered, “Are you awake?”
Paige squeezed her tighter, pulling her closer into the spooning position, and hummed in response, the sound low in Azzi’s ear.
After a moment, Paige’s voice, still thick with sleep, asked, “You wanna talk about your dream?”
Azzi hesitated before asking, “How’d you know it was a bad dream?”
Even in the dark, Paige smiled, though Azzi couldn’t see it. “I noticed on a few road games,” she said softly, “you tend to have nightmares when you’ve had a lot of sugar that day.” Her voice carried a teasing warmth as she continued, “Almost like your mind needs to burn off all the extra energy or something.”
Azzi couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh, her heart feeling lighter in a way she hadn’t expected. The way Paige noticed things like that—small, seemingly inconsequential details—made Azzi’s chest ache in the best way.
In that moment, Azzi allowed herself to fully confirm what she’d known for a while: Paige was the right one for her. She pressed herself further into Paige, her back snug against Paige’s chest, and interlaced their fingers, her palm pressing against the back of Paige’s hand.
Paige felt the shift and whispered, “You good?”
Azzi nodded, humming her confirmation, but Paige wasn’t fully convinced. “You can’t sleep anymore?” she asked gently, her thumb brushing over Azzi’s knuckles.
“No,” Azzi admitted quietly.
Paige tilted her head slightly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s hair as she murmured, “What do you need? I can make you some tea or something.”
Azzi hesitated, her mind swirling. The weight of the day, the relief of being held by Paige, and the pull of something deeper. Finally, after a long moment, she shifted closer to Paige—though there was hardly any space left between them—and guided Paige’s hand lower, resting over her waistband, silently telling her what she wanted.
Paige stilled for a moment, processing Azzi’s request. Then, her fingers tightened slightly around Azzi’s hand. “Are you sure?” Paige whispered, making sure Azzi was fully in control of what she wanted.
Azzi turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting Paige’s in the faint light spilling in through the blinds. “Yeah,” she whispered back, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her gaze.
Paige leaned forward, pressing a soft lingering kiss to Azzi’s lips. She then trailed a few more kisses down Azzi’s neck, her movements slow, giving Azzi time to change her mind if she wanted to. Paige’s breath brushed against Azzi’s ear as she murmured, “Are you sure, Azzi?”
She nodded softly against Paige, her lips curving into the faintest smile. “Yes I’m sure,” she whispered.
Paige searched her face for another moment, wanting to be absolutely certain. When she found nothing but certainty in Azzi’s expression, she smiled back, her features softening. Her free hand brushed a strand of hair from Azzi’s face as she murmured, “Okay.”
She leaned in again, her lips trailing along Azzi’s jawline, her lips filled with nothing but care. Paige moved slowly, wanting to savor every moment and make sure Azzi felt safe after everything from earlier that night. After her lips have traced every part of Azzis neck, Paige softly grabs her jaw pulling her towards into a soft kiss. Their lips and tongues dance with one another perfectly as Paige leads them.
The kiss grew more urgent, both of them succumbing to the warmth spreading through their bodies and the slight alcohol still in their system. It was the kind of heat that made the air feel heavier, the kind that drew them closer despite the impossibleness of closing the already nonexistent gap between them.
Paige let out a low groan when Azzi nipped at her bottom lip, sending a shiver down her spine that she felt all the way to her toes. Azzi smirked against Paige’s lips at the sound, emboldened by how easily she could unravel her.
Trying to turn in Paige’s arms to face her fully, Azzi shifted, but Paige tightened her hold, her hands firm as they kept Azzi in place. “Stay like this,” Paige murmured against her lips, her voice rough and breathless.
Azzi sighed softly at the words, her body relaxing into Paige’s as she allowed herself to be guided, her hands coming up to rest on top of Paige’s that were trailing up Azzi’s stomach to palm her breast under her sports bra. Making Azzi moan quietly.
Her head tilting slightly to give Paige more space, their lips meeting again in a kiss that was softer this time but no less consuming.
The world outside their little bubble ceased to exist. There was nothing but the sound of their uneven breaths and the muffled sounds of their kisses filling the 3 a.m. silence. Paige squeezed Azzi’s chest slightly, her palm warm as it anchored Azz here and there, Azzi couldn’t help the way her chest rose and fell a little quicker, her heart racing each time Paige palmed her breast or circling her fingers, as she surrendered to the moment.
The air between them is a little sticky with heat, the silence punctuated only by the occasional gasp or hum of pleasure as Paige's hand explores more boldly. Azzi's breath hitches when Paige's lips trail lower again, brushing against the soft skin of her neck, as she sucks softly here and there. A warmth spreads through Azzi and she tilts her head to give Paige more room, her body quickly reacting in ways she hadn't expected. It usually took her so much longer.
Paige is completely lost in the moment too, her fingers grazing over Azzi's skin, exploring the curves of her body with a gentle urgency.
She can feel the quick rhythm of Azzi's heartbeat beneath her touch and the slight tremor in her movements every time she takes a deep breath. It's a silent conversation between them, that speaks of trust and longing, of desires barely held in check.
Paige pauses just for a moment, her lips hovering over Azzi's skin. "Can I leave marks?" she whispers again, her voice still soft but filled with a hint of need. Azzi reaches back as her fingers curl into Paige's hair, tugging her down to meet her lips for a moment. "Just make sure it’s below my jersey," she murmurs.
Paige nods at this as she goes back to sucking on Azzi’s neck, only sucking harshly when she angled herself enough to be near her chest. This made Azzi hum quietly each time as she grew more needy.
The tension between them thickens as Azzi, unable to hold herself back, pushes herself back against Paige with more urgency.
Paige doesn't hesitate, sensing her need, and her hand slides into Azzi’s shorts down to where Azzi's body is calling out for more. The touch alone causes a soft whimper to escape Azzi’s as Paige drags her fingers through her wetness.
Azzi's whimpers, her body reacting immediately to the feeling. Paige smiles to herself, the sound of Azzi's breathless response sending a rush of heat through her.
"How do you like it, pretty girl?" Paige whispers, her voice low and teasing Azzi a little as she continues rubbing against her, brushing her lips along Azzi's neck.
Azzi barely manages to catch her breath, her eyes fluttering closed. It's almost too much for her to process, her body demanding more but her mind clouded with desire that she never wants to end. She struggles to find her voice, a soft tremble in her response. "I don’t know... I haven’t done a lot," she breathes, her words catching.
Paige chuckles softly, her lips gently tracing the outline of Azzi's jaw, coaxing her to speak. "You still gotta tell me what you want," she murmurs, her thumb brushing Azzi's lips.
Azzi, breath hitching, whines quietly in response, the word spilling out of her before she even fully realizes it. "Rough."
A slow hum escapes Paige at the confession. There's a slight pause, a moment where she evaluates, making sure Azzi is sure. "You wanna try it?" she asks.
Azzi nods, eyes half-lidded, her voice almost a whisper. "Just a little for now."
Paige nods with a small, satisfied smile.
"Mm. Okay." She adjusts so she can tangle her fingers in Azzi’s hair to tug slightly, pulling her head back just enough to expose more of her neck. Her other hand continues its journey, her movements deliberate as she works Azzi up, feeling Azzi's pulse quicken beneath her touch.
Azzi immediately gasps as Paige yanks her hair back again and inserts her fingers at the same time. Paige keeping Azzi close as she works her fingers in and out.
Azzi, who has always prided herself on her composure, found herself straining to stay silent. Every brush of Paige’s lips, every gentle tug of her hands in Azzi’s hair and the way she was moving in and out of her with ease, sent shockwaves through Azzi that begged for release in the form of a sound. But she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, refusing to let the smallest escape.
Their situation was far too complicated for anyone to find out like this, especially not their teammates. Azzi’s mind flickered briefly to how disastrous it would be if someone heard them, but even that thought wasn’t enough to fully pull her back from the haze of desire Paige had her in.
Paige noticed the tension in Azzi’s body and the shallow rise and fall of her chest. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she trailed kisses and bites along the column of Azzi’s neck, testing just how far she could push her.
“Struggling, huh?” Paige whispered, her lips brushing the shell of Azzi’s ear.
Azzi shivered but didn’t respond, her nails digging slightly into Paige’s arm definitely leaving nail marks. She bit her lip harder, trying to focus on anything other than the way Paige’s mouth was wreaking havoc on her self-control.
Paige chuckled softly at her silence, the sound vibrating against Azzi’s skin and making it even harder for her to stay quiet. “Relax,” Paige murmured, her voice softer now, her lips pressing a kiss just below Azzi’s ear. “I’ll make sure you stay quiet.”
The reassurance helped, only a little, but it was still a battle for Azzi to keep her composure. Her heart raced as she nodded faintly, leaning back into Paige, trusting her to keep them both grounded.
They stayed just like that for some time. Paige whispering in Azzi’s ear as she worked in and out of her and Azzi biting her lip or pushing her face into the pillow to try to muffle some of the sounds slipping out of her.
Eventually Azzi starts pushing herself further into Paige trying to match her rhythm as Paige's grip tightens in Azzi's hair, pulling her head back just enough for her lips to brush against Azzi's ear. Her voice a little rough, full of her restrained desire as she mumbled, “You feel so fucking good.”
Azzi whimpered at the words, her breathing unsteady as she said, “It’s so hard to stay quiet.” Her voice cracked slightly, her desperation evident, and it made Paige’s chest tighten in the best way.
“I know,” Paige chuckled softly, her tone laced with amusement. “I can tell.” Her lips grazed Azzi’s jawline before she whispered, “You’re doing so good.”
The praise sent heat through Azzi’s legs, and before she could stop herself, she was desperately reaching back to grab Paige's head and pulling her into a desperate kiss. It was the only way she could think to quiet herself, to channel everything she was feeling without letting any more sounds escape.
Paige groaned softly into her kiss, her hands sinking deeper into Azzi, her other hand still tangled in her hair as she held her firmly in place. She met Azzi’s need with her own, kissing her deeply, almost possessively. Azzi whimpered again at the new angle, and Paige swallowed the sound, her lips and tongue moving against Azzi’s in a way that made the world around them disappear.
Azzi’s neediness grew, her hands clutching at Paige as if letting go would shatter her. The kiss deepened further, their breaths mingling as Azzi melted into Paige, unable to think of anything but the way her body responded to Paige as if it had never been touched before.
Paige pulled back just enough to murmur against Azzi’s lips, her voice breathless but teasing. “You still good on being quiet?”
Azzi’s eyes fluttered open, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed as she whispered, “Not if you keep fucking me like this.”
Paige chuckles before leaning back down to pull Assi into a kiss as she continues working her fingers in and out of Azzi. She wants to do so much more to her but she’s taking it slow for Azzi who is less experienced. Not long after, Azzi's legs are squeezing around Paige's hand as she starts to chase her release.
Paige senses Azzi's growing struggle to stay quiet, knowing just how difficult it’s going to be. So she brings her free arm under Azzi, guiding her hand to Azzi’s lips. “Bite down,” Paige whispers, her voice low.
Azzi hesitates for a moment, confusion flashing across her face before the pressure builds as Paige starts curling her fingers perfectly as she adds her thumb to Azzi’s clit. Feeling overwhelmed by this she does exactly as Paige instructed. Her teeth sinking into Paige’s hand, a sharp, almost desperate grip as her body starts trembling. Her legs squeezing Paige’s hand impossibly tight as she finishes all over her hand.
The sensation sends a wave of heat through Paige, but the bite is harsh, almost painful, as Azzi fights to stay silent. Paige, feeling the intensity of the bite, clenches her jaw but when that's not enough she quickly presses her lips to Azzi's shoulder, the sting of her own discomfort igniting a need to counter it. Her teeth graze Azzi's skin, just enough to distract from the sharp bite, as both of them are caught in the tension of the moment as Paige coaxes Azzi through her release.
As Azzi’s breathing finally began to slow, still uneven but no longer shaky as Paige pressed soft kisses to her shoulder and the back of her neck. Grounding Azzi as she murmured against her skin, “You’re so beautiful... so perfect Azzi….” Her voice was a soothing balm, wrapping Azzi in warmth.
Azzi felt herself going limp against Paige, her body almost like dead weight, but Paige didn’t let go. She held her firmly.
After some time, Azzi shifted, turning to face Paige. Her brown eyes were hazy, her lips slightly parted as she tried to process the moment. Paige reached up, her wet fingers brushing Azzi’s lips gently.
“Open,” Paige whispered, her voice soft but commanding.
Still in a daze, Azzi obeyed without hesitation, parting her lips as Paige slid her fingers into Azzi’s mouth letting her taste herself. Azzi instinctively wrapped her lips around them, her eyes fluttering as she felt the intimacy of the gesture. Paige’s eyes softened, a quiet smile gracing her lips as she watched Azzi experience something new, her thumb of her free hand brushing over Azzi’s cheek.
Paige slowly withdrew her fingers, leaning in to kiss Azzi tenderly. Their lips met in a slow kiss that felt like a question and an answer all at once. When they finally broke apart, Paige cupped Azzi’s face, her thumb grazing her jawline.
“You okay?” Paige asked, her blue eyes searching Azzi’s for any hint of hesitation or regret.
Azzi nodded, her eyes hooded, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, “Yeah... I’m more than okay.”
"Come here," Paige whispered softly, as she tugged Azzi closer. Azzi let herself be pulled, settling onto Paige’s chest with ease. Her head rested just over Paige’s heart, and the steady, rhythmic sound filled her ears. It wasn’t completely calm, though—it was hammering in her chest, quick and unsteady, a stark contrast to the soothing hand Paige had resting on her back.
Azzi tilted her head slightly, her voice quiet. “Your heart’s beating fast.”
Paige let out a soft chuckle, the vibrations against Azzi’s cheek. “Of course it is,” she admitted, but she didn’t offer any further explanation. She didn’t need to—Azzi already knew what it meant.
Azzi opened her mouth to say something, to ask if Paige was sure about all of this, but before she could, Paige leaned down and caught her lips in another kiss. It wasn’t rushed or full of heat like the others they’d shared tonight—it was grounding, a soft reassurance.
When they broke apart, Paige murmured, “Just relax Az. We can talk about it later.”
Azzi nodded, settling back into Paige’s chest as her breathing evened out. She reached down to intertwine their hands, wanting the simple connection, but she froze when her fingers brushed against Paige’s hand. Her eyes widened slightly as she felt the harsh indentations there.
She gasped softly. “Oh my God,” Azzi whispered, realizing she’d left marks.
Paige chuckled again, her tone more playful this time. “Yeah… I don’t know what the hell you’re going to do when I start doing everything else.”
Azzi rolled her eyes, letting out a small laugh as she tucked herself back against Paige’s chest. The teasing didn’t faze her at all because she knew it was lighthearted. Instead, she focused on the comforting rhythm of Paige’s heartbeat, the sound lulling her further into a state of peace she hasn’t felt in a while.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Azzi allowed herself to sink into the moment fully. As she listened to Paige’s heartbeat, soothing her to sleep, the truth she’d been fighting hard to ignore surfaced in her mind. She was in love with Paige. Completely and irrevocably.
And for once, she didn’t feel the need to push it away as she kissed Paige’s neck softly before drifting in her arms.
288 notes · View notes
gh0stsp1d3r · 2 days ago
Note
hiii! i was wondering if you could do the salesman / gong yoo but make him a professor at a prestigious university, and his student is struggling. but there’s plenty of tension between them, so he invites her over hehe. i’d love to see your take!
key words: older man/younger woman, praise kink, some bdsm, hair pulling, dom! gong yoo, sub! reader, sexual tension, body worship, creampie (maybe), aftercare
professor
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MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI
A /N: ADORE THIS. Sorry it took a while ):
WARNINGS: age gap, p in v, professor x student (ALL OF ARE AGE), Sir kink, praise kink, professor kink, bondage (tying up hands w/ rope), unprotected sex, creampies
MASTERLIST
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Every day, like clockwork, you sat in the same exact front seat, directly in front of him. You batted your eyelashes at him innocently, biting on the tip of your pencil and creasing your eyebrows in that adorable way when you were confused.
You’ve always been one of his favorite students. You were smart, you were kind, respectful, but fuck, you were hot, too. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Not when you stared at him at like that. Not when you looked so perfect to ruin.
And when you came up to him after class, pleading for help and tutoring from him, well, he felt like it was all falling into his lap.
“Miss Y/N.” He spoke when you stood in front of his desk, small smile making its way onto his face. He ran a hand through his hair, subtly looking you up and down before leaning back in his chair. “What can I do for you?”
“Sir,” you nodded your head, giving him a polite smile as well. “I was wondering if you would help me with something… I’m not sure I quite understood what we were talking about today,” you spoke, pausing and looking at him.
“Go on.” He nodded, interest piquing by the second.
“Well, I was thinking, could you perhaps better explain the subject to me after school, or something like that? It would be very beneficial, I think, to hear it from you rather than a student.”
“You’re asking for tutoring?” He asked you with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, sir.” You nodded, and he thought for a moment. What better opportunity would he have?
“Alright. Sure.” He agreed, and you found yourself smirking to yourself as he began to write down his address on a piece of paper, before handing it to you. His next class of students began to fill in, and you took that as a cue to leave.
“Thank you very much, professor!” You spoke as you left, giving him a wave. He gave you a smile and small wave back, turning to his new class, clearing his throat. He couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he began to teach his next class.
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Later, you pulled up to the address on the note. Your nerves were jumping every step you took closer to his house.
He could have invited you into his office, he could have invited you anywhere on campus, but, no. He invited you to his house. He knew what you wanted, and you knew what he wanted.
You bundled your hand up into a fist, raising it and rapping at the door quietly. It wasn’t long before he opened it, peeking out before opening it fully, inviting you in with a warm smile, cup of coffee in hand.
“Miss y/n.”
You gave him a smile back, taking off your shoes as you entered. He sat in his sofa, motioning for you to follow and do the same. You sat next to him, sitting up straight with your hands in your lap.
“So,” he leaned down to the table in front of him, putting his cup down and flipping the pages of a textbook. “Where would you like to start?” He asked you, turning to you.
You began to ramble on, about some subjects you could start with, about subjects you didn’t understand completely.
He listened, nodding as he flipped to the proper pages, and opened it to what you were talking about.
“You wanna go ahead and read that for me, sweetheart?”
The nickname caused your cheeks to warm up and your eyes to widen slightly. You blinked rapidly, before stammering out.
“U-uhm, yeah, yeah- sure.” You nodded dumbly, and he couldn’t help the small smirk that made its way onto his face.
“Just read the page.” He told you, you nodding and moving, grabbing the pages and reading them in your head before he let out a ‘tsk.’
You paused, looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.
“Out loud.”
You stared at him for a moment, before turning around, squirming where you sat when you felt the denim of his jeans rub against your bare thighs. The couch was small, so you thought nothing of it, at least, not until he slowly moved his hand to your leg, placing it on your knee as you spoke out loud.
You began to stutter through the words, feeling your cheeks heating up. It felt as if though every single touch you felt from him was electric.
“Uhm- this leads to the- to the…” you trailed off, breath hitching when you felt his hand trail further up, testing the waters until they reached the underneath of your skirt.
He looked back at you, watching your reaction as his hand paused at your panties, a small smile on his face.
Fuck it.
You leaned in closer to the man, book now completely forgotten as his lips were against yours. Everything that told you this was wrong, screaming at you that this wasn’t allowed, was completely erased from your brain.
You put your hands across his chest, his hands going to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your tongues danced together, the soft moans falling from his mouth sounding heavenly to you.
You both parted for a moment, catching your breath, both of you staring at each other.
He wordlessly stood up, and you followed him to his bedroom. The door was barely shut behind you before he threw you down onto the bed, you letting out a soft giggle when he crawled on top of you. He leaned down again, his lips hovering against yours as he murmured softly to you.
“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He told you, soft pants falling from his mouth.
You stared up at him, wide eyed, with a look that made him want to destroy you.
He was the one to take your shorts off, a small grin forming on his face at the sight of your cute lace pink panties. You could feel the heat going to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you.
“These are cute.” He mumbled, tinge of amusement in his voice.
“Stop!” You whined out, him letting out a chuckle. He could see the way you subtly clenched your thighs, trying to get some sort of friction.
“So impatient, hmm?” He teased.
“Please, professor.” You spoke with a pout on your face.
His eyes widened now, swallowing thickly at the name. He darted his tongue out, licking his lips and another grin appearing on his face. He liked that.
He lowered himself down so that he was face to face with your glistening pussy, smile on his face as he ran his fingers through your folds.
His thick finger found your hole, looking up at you before pushing two of them in, causing you to throw your head back against the pillow, which caused him to grin to himself as he pushed his fingers further into your walls.
He curled them up, grin remaining on his face as he scissored them, and thrusted them in and out of you, feeling you clench down on his digits.
His thumb moved to press on your clit, pressing down on the delicate button, causing you to let out a whine. He swirled his thumb in a circle, all while still thrusting his fingers in and out of you.
“Professor-“
“Mhm…cum for me, sweetheart.” He told you, knowing what you were going to say before you could. He coaxed the first orgasm out of you, still circling his thumb on your clit as you rid out your high, your legs spasming as you came around his fingers.
He slowly removed his hands from your walls, smile on his face as he looked up at you, sticking his fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits, sucking off the wetness that came from you.
You watched in awe, jaw slightly dropping at the sight in front of you.
He cracked a smile at your reaction, moving up to give you one more quick kiss on your lips before moving back.
He moved to unbutton and take off his pants, you watching him curiously. Fuck, he was built, you thought as your eyes shamelessly scanned his abs.
He now was only in his boxers, before eventually, he threw both of those off as well, discarding them in the room while you took your shirt off as well, arching your back to reach for the back of your bra and unclipping it.
While you were doing that, he moved to the side of his bed and began to rummage through his drawer, pulling out a bundle of rope.
“Sir-“ you began, but were cut off when he grabbed your wrists, putting them to the headboard, and began tying them together to his headboard expertly. He was quick and precise, tightening it around you. You looked up at him, confused, but he just smiled down at you.
He wasted no more time to slap the tip of his cock onto your folds, a gasp escaping your mouth as he began to slowly inch his length into your hole.
You wanted to touch him, to wrap your arms around his neck, but you couldn’t. He stared down at you, watching you struggle against the restraints with an amused expression on his face. He was enjoying this.
“Fuck, such a good girl.” He rasped out, his voice making your head spin.
The voices in your head, the ones that told you that this was wrong, suddenly disappeared as soon as you felt him bottom out into your cunt. His hand went to the headboard, holding it for stability as he dragged his cock out of you, before harshly thrusting back in.
Your mouth opened to form an ‘o’ shape as he snapped his hips against yours, a moan falling from your lips.
The groans that came from him and the cries coming from you reverberated in the room. With every snap of his hips, you grew needier. His hand that wasn’t on the headboard moved to your pussy, and began to rub on your clit, rubbing circles fastly.
“C’mon, cum for me, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”
That was all you needed, you letting out a louder cry as you came around his cock, this triggering his own orgasm. He let out a raspy groan, mumbling “shit,” to himself as he painted your walls.
He watched as his seed mixed with yours and it fell down to your legs, an idea popping into his head as he pulled out for a moment, before stuffing his cock back into your entrance, pushing the leaky cum back into you, smearing it all over your pussy with a proud smile on his face.
“What?” He asked as if he was innocent when you let out another whine at the feeling. He pulled out once more, looking down at you.
Your body was completely spent, your wrists aching and your clit puffy from the stimulation. He may have been older, but fuck, he knew what he was doing.
He looked back at the restraints on your wrist, moving over towards them, undoing them easily. You let out a sigh of relief, going to massage your wrists.
“You alright?” He asked you, posture straightening as he stood up, beginning to put his boxers on.
“Mhm.” You spoke with a dazed look in your eyes, and a soft smile on your face.
He let out a chuckle, and looked around for a moment, deciding whether or not he should even be doing this. He decided that he’d already crossed that line, and that at this point, it didn’t matter:
“I’m gonna go run a bath for you.” He told you, before leaving you in the room, you hearing the faucet in the bathroom run.
Your mind was racing with thoughts. You just fucked your professor. Your very hot professor who you’ve had a crush on for months. Holy shit. Was this even real? He just came in you. Maybe you should-
Your thoughts were interrupted when he picked you up bridal style up off of the bed, his touch surprisingly gentle as a contrast to his movements before.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lowered you down into the tub, the warm water underneath causing your body to calm down. You nestled deeper into the water, glancing at him.
He sat at the side of the tub, a bottle of body wash in his hands, and he looked at you, tilting his head slightly, silently asking if it was okay.
This was different. It felt so much more intimate. But you didn’t mind.
You gave him a small nod, and he stood up, moving to wash your shoulders, massaging them gently. before moving down to the rest of your body. His caresses were gentle and soft, as if you would break like glass if he did it any harder.
None of it was sexual, none of it had any lustful intentions. You found yourself smiling at him again, him giving you a soft smile back.
You had a thing for your teacher, and sure, maybe it was wrong, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.
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sassy-radio-hazbin-queen · 2 days ago
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Ok I am going to talk about something that's been on my mind recently.
Major warning ⚠️ might get deep.
Also ADHD RAMBLING SORRY IN ADVANCE 😔
Regarding Alastor and the Seven year absence. Ok so I see how In some recent posts people say Alastor must feel forgotten by the Hasbin crew, cause When Sir Pentious and Dazzle died they got a portrait and a statue. While Alastor got nothing. And Charlie thought he had died too.
But while that is true I'm surprised no one talks about how Alastor already felt Forgotten long before the fight. I'm talking about when he finally got home after 7 years disappearance.
My boy didn't get a Welcome home,( although he did get one from Carmilla later on)or a " Hey are you ok". Nothing. What does he get. Pushed around, Judged ( though it's quite understandable it's still wrong) and even told that he basically didn't matter. Remember the scene between Carmilla and Alastor. Alastor was basically asking her " Hey while I was gone, Did you at least think about me"?. And Carmilla response was definitely " Eh Not Really, But welcome back in any case".
Sure he looked pissed but if I was in his place I'd feel very hurt. I kinda noticed how everyone treats Alastor as if he is the worst thing in hell. When there so much worse * cough Valentino cough*
From what I understand he only targeted those that hurt others. Maybe Hell was pissed because in a way he was saving other souls. Taking them from their abusive owners. Which is fucked up but it's hell. What do you expect?
I firmly believe Alastor grew up in a abusive household and definitely witnessed his mother getting abused which definitely affected his psyche. Maybe his father killed his mother and after killing his father he vowed no one will ever go through what he went through.
So he targeted awful people and offed them. When he got to hell. I think he felt his work wasn't done yet and now he is in the land of abusers and monsters. Maybe deep down. He was the one SCARED 😨.
Maybe he killed so he could feel safe in a twisted way. He ended up selling his soul cause he was scared. His owner who i headcanon is like Mother Gothel definitely didn't help. She manipulated him into thinking she is keeping him safe. When In reality she was using him for his powers.
I also headcanon that ( now this is going to sound crazy) His owner forces him to dress and act the way he does. She wants to be the only one who can play with her toy. His owner definitely doesn't share. So she will try to make him look in her eyes unappealing. We all know this doesn't work though. As Vox had fallen in love with him.
Now I don't believe Vox ever hurt Alastor and as much as I love stories where he gets 😳 obsessed. I actually would be happy if they become best friends again and hope it was just a giant misunderstanding just like Fizz and Blitz.
Still something happened That hurt Alastor deeply that he now hates anything to do with television. My Headcanon is cause Vox started to spend more time with Valentino and accidentally leaving Alastor in the dark. Alastor enjoyed spending time with Vox. Going dancing at a club, listening to radio shows. Even cuddling in a blanket watching a movie. But I think the main reason he enjoyed Vox's company is cause, His owner couldn't touch him. She couldn't hurt him in any way.
Kinda like how a person wants there friend over so there abuser doesn't hurt them. The abuser won't cause they rather do their evil deed in secret.
In other words Alastor felt safe around Vox and when he started spending time with Valentino and less with him. His owner would hurt him.
But no one knew this cause Alastor always had a smile on his face. Always seemed sure and confident of himself. This is a perfect representation of " You don't know what happens behind closed doors". I think this was a learned habit from childhood too. Maybe after his father abused him or/and his mother he would threaten to kill them if they told or even showed any signs of abuse.
His owner definitely has that power. If she has the power to give him power then she has the power to erase Alastor from existence. I think she threatened his afterlife multiple times.
Anyway eventually Vox and Alastor have a big fight which pissed the owner off. And she took him away for seven years. Personally I am among those that think she TORTURED him during that time.
I think she let him out and told him to watch the princess and make sure no one gets redeemed. She sews a smile on his face so everyone thinks he is happy and fine. Again reference to what I said earlier.
Alastor goes back home and everything has changed. Probably a culture shock to him. He goes to the hotel and had to pretend everything is ok. Maybe he was all touchy feely with everyone cause he wants to feel safe and secure. Like he is finally home and not hallucinating. When he is pushed away he acts like it doesn't matter but I think it does. I think it hurts him deeply but because of the abuse he endured in childhood and his afterlife he puts up a front as a defense mechanism.
As Alastor told Charlie
" Just because you see a Smile, don't think you know what's going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool my dear. It inspires your friends, Keeps your enemies Guessing and says no matter what comes your way, Your the one in control".
In a roundabout way he was basically calling for help without saying he needs help. Remember he can't tell her or anyone about what he went through. Of course In a way it means he is still a prisoner. His owner can take him away at any time and this definitely scares him. So he will do anything he can to prevent this from happening. Even making a deal with the princess of hell.
Anyway So while after the battle I think he felt Forgotten, I think he already felt that way. Like he doesn't matter and he wants to matter. His owner and father probably told him that he is worth nothing and no one will miss him while he is gone.
Well he was gone twice and NO ONE missed him.
That's very sad when you think about it and I'm surprised no one had brought it up yet.
Once again I apologize for my rambling thank you for reading
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i-dared-myself · 3 days ago
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ATEEZ x Ninth Member Headcanons
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ATEEZ x reader
Slightly NSFW for but not so much so that I’m marking this 18+
Requested by anonymous: OMG YOU TAKE REQUESTS???? YOUR BLOG IS SO PERFECT Ahem- sorry, I got excited !!! Could I please request an ATEEZ 9th member au headcanons??? I've seen the skz one and now you made me want to see the idea with Ateez too!
Ahhh I’m so sorry to people who made requests before this one! I promise I'm still working on those ones, I just got really excited about ATEEZ!!!
•Hongjoon welcomes you to the group with a warm smile. He leads you to meet the others, and you know it will be chaos when you see them.
•You never feel out of place for a moment. They all make you feel welcome, and you try your very best to return that enthusiasm as you settle into the group.
•Your room is off from the others. Sometimes you like it that way, other times you don’t. It really depends.
•You like it on days where San is looking for someone to bother and Seonghwa isn’t around. You son’t like it on the nights that you have terrible dreams thay leave you sobbing into your pillows when you wake.
•When that happens, you push your door open and wander down the dark hallways. Wooyoung is always ready to comfort you, usually by using his body warmth to soothe you to sleep. And he’s not going to say anything if he gets a free cuddle out of it.
•Jongho stays up with you. You don’t mention what happened in the dreams, and he doesn’t press for an answer. Eventually you fall asleep and he doesn’t risk waking you, instead leaving you in his bed.
•Yeosang is always a bit unsure of himself. But then he remembers there’s no cameras around and you need him. So he mutters words of assurance to you and awkwardly pats your back.
•Hongjoon brings you to the kitchen with him. He either makes you a hot chocolate or a tea, depending on your mood. He lets you snuggle up to his side on the couch as you drink it, telling you about his day.
•Seonghwa immediately tugs you into his bed. He covers you in his blankets and coos about how brave you are. Sure it’s a bit ridiculous to be coddled at your age, but you soak up the love regardless.
Yunho listens as you blabber on about whatever it is. You cry into his shoulder as he rubs circles on your back. Eventually you can’t even remember what it is that woke you and doze away in his grasp.
•San groans as you poke him until he wakes up, but is fast to sit up. His brain is too foggy with sleep to really understand what’s happening, but he tosses you over his shoulder before depositing you in your bed and returning back to sleep right there on the floor. It’s the thought that counts, and that helps you.
•Mingi mutters about how he can take your nightmares in a fight, which makes you giggle. He rambles nonsense about how he’s tougher than whatever it is you’re kept up by. He’s silly and makes you laugh when you need it most.
•When your birthday comes around, you barely make it out with your life. You do your live as you were supposed to, and it goes by smoothly. No hiccups or cakes being smushed into faces.
•Then Yeosang calls you into the kitchen, and you’re awestruck by the pile of gifts on the counter, next to the worst cake you’ve ever seen.
•It’s hideous. Your name is scrawled out messily across the top in a colour that absolutely doesn’t match the frosting on the rest of it. There’s a huge crack down the centre, and you’re pretty sure you’re about to cry.
•“I told you it was fucking ugly!” Wooyoung hisses to Yunho, smacking his arm.
•You whisper that you love it, much to their surprise. Hongjoon cuts you a slice before putting it out in front of you. They sing happy birthday to you before you take a bite.
•You’re the only one to eat any of the dessert, because apparently they already ate two entire cakes. They screwed up the others even worse than the one they presented to you and didn’t know how else to discard of the evidence.
•They apologize for not just buying you a cake, and you ban them from ever buying you one. It becomes a yearly tradition for them to bake you one from scratch, and each cake gets better than the last.
•Probably because the first one gives you food poisoning. They apologize numerous times from your hospital bed, but you assure them that you’re fine.
•Your water bottle is covered with stickers. Whenever you travel in the world for a tour, Wooyoung buys you a sticker to remember it. You cry when you lose the bottle, and Hongjoon purchases you a new one.
•The rest of them pitch in to get you a bunch more stickers, until your water bottle is unrecognizable.
•Your room itself was plain when you moved in. The walls were white, the closet was empty, and the curtains were a depressing beige.
•Now, everything is slathered with your favourite colours. Mingi and San help hang the new curtains, while Yeosang and Seonghwa paint the walls. Jongho whines as he pinches his finger putting your new bed together with Hongjoon, and Yunho proudly displays glowing stars on your wall.
•It feels like home in a way you can’t describe, especially when Wooyoung trips and puts a hole in the plaster of your room. Everyone yells at him, and you don’t repair the dent.
•The day Mingi finds a bloody pad in the bathroom garbage is perhaps the most stressful day of your life. Even more so than your auditions and exams.
•He sprints into the living room, waving his arms around. He (thankfully) left it in the bathroom and didn’t touch it. “Someone here is dying!”
Hongjoon jumps to his feet, eyebrows pulling together in concern. He demands to know which member of the group has a deadly disease/alien parasite living inside them.
•You quietly admit it’s your period, and they all freeze. In all their time living with you, it hadn’t occurred to them that you went through cycles. Logically you did, but they never put two and two together.
•Seonghwa (again) coos about what a poor thing you are. You just want to curl up and die as he lifts you onto his lap and announces to the others that you’re so strong and brave.
•To which you tell him you’re not a child and stomp away to your room, slamming the door shut.
•The irony does not escape you.
•They all knock on your door, murmuring about how Seonghwa is an idiot. They promise to make him cook dinner, and anything you desire. Waffles do sound pretty good, so you open your door.
•Seonghwa is shoved closer and says how deeply sorry he is for offending you. San scratches his head and adds that you are so brave and strong.
•They all grown as you slam the door in their faces. They scold him insistently, before Seonghwa and San defend themselves.
•“I’m just saying I would be terrified to find blood coming out of me one day!” San exclaims. Seonghwa murmurs agreement. You peek out of your room hesitantly. He continues, “And having to just go on with your normal life? Yikes.”
•So you forgive them. The waffles you eat that night are fluffy and delicious.
•It’s well-known that ATEEZ is… freaky. They’re wholesome and sweet, but they’re a bunch of nasty freaks (Endearing term). You were shocked the first time Mingi used a microphone as a pretend-dick and jerked it off. That first time San kissed Wooyoung on the lips? You were horrified.
•You’ve grown used to it. You don’t even bat an eye when Jongho thrusts into the air. You’re not quite up to their level, but your face doesn’t heat up at their lewd actions, anymore.
•Although you do get flustered when they drag you into it. You cover your eyes with your hands as Seonghwa’s eyes roll back from where he’s straddled beneath you. You shriek as Yeosang slaps a hand on the wall next to your head, and nearly pass out when Hongjoon’s fingers curl around your throat.
•All of this is part of skits (You’re fairly certain of this, at least) and carefully thought out and planned ahead of time. For the days afterwards, you stay off of social media and ignore your mom’s calls.
•The time you nearly drown is a harrowing event. You take a short walk near the site you’re filming a vlog. You promise Yunho you’ll take security with you before you grab a jacket and follow a trail.
•You’re standing at the edge of a river when you realize your personal guard went on a lunch break. You sigh and turn to return to the group, not wanting to be out without protection.
•Then the dirt beneath your heel crumbles as you tumble into the rushing waters. A scream is ripped from your throat as everything is turned upside down and sideways and-
•You’re pulled onto the riverbank and gasp for air. Your eyes struggle to open, and you hear the panicked cries of the other members.
•“Who’s giving her mouth to mouth?” Yeosang shouts. The others fall into an eerie silence as you try and gather the words to tell them to back the fuck off.
•You manage to peel your eyes open, just in time to prevent San’s mouth from lowering to yours. You push him away before vomiting to the side.
•Hongjoon refuses to do any other filming that day, and brings you back home. Seonghwa cocoons you in blankets and curls up on the couch next to you. Mingi makes you a warm drink while Wooyoung runs his fingers through your hair.
•Jungho is the one to turn a movie on to distract you from your racing thoughts. Yunho dumps a bag of chips into a bowl and places it in front of you, but you’re arms are wrapped up too tightly for you too eat them.
•So Yeosang is the selfless hero who consumes the snack, telling you about how bad they taste and not to worry. When you point out that he could just feed them to you, he conveniently goes deaf from San yelling in his ear.
•And when you have nightmares that night from almost dying, you know you have plenty of people to go to.
Taglist:
@velvetmoonlght
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fuck-customers · 2 days ago
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I am actually pretty glad that the company that has treated me horribly and fucked me over and over is (most likely) being shut down. There's a 50/50 chance that the company will be bought out by Buyer A who will keep the stores running and revamp the company (or so we're told) or be bought out by Buyer B who will liquidate. (I don't want to give too much info at risk of exposing myself, but I think this is probably enough to figure out what I'm talking about. It's almost definitely obvious to ither employees of Company) I feel almost equally about either option, but I kinda want Buyer B because of some immature part of me that's going "haha yeah fuck you, that's what you get for being such a garbage company that treats your employees (and customers) like shit. You're a waste of retail space" but also I recognize that the satisfaction will last for like 5 minutes, max, before I'm like "well now I'm fucked and out of a job, so..."
Idk where I'm going with this. It's just kind of a rambly vent. I absolutely hate job hunting (as does everyone) and this is actually my first "real" job, as my previous job was a short-term seasonal gig, so I'm very nervous on a personal level because I do not feel confident that I have enough work experience nor enough job hunting experience to be able to get another job. Especially since it is after the holidays but before the summer season. Aka: the dead zone of hiring times. Hopefully I'll be able to fall back on filing for unemployment if I have to.
But I'm trying to focus on all of the fucked up moments at this job as a kind of admittedly bizarre inspiration tactic. Kind of like "hey maybe my next job won't have management that makes fun of me for my disability" and "maybe I won't have a manager that yells at me and treats me like I'm stupid in front of customers and causes me to cry in the bathroom and then the other manager who wasn't even there that day piles on the bullying by essentially saying (I'm paraphrasing) that the first manager is justified in yelling at me because I am stupid"
Idk honestly I'm the type that could perform really, really well if I am just shown how to do my tasks and then left alone to do them. That's it. I don't need to be micromanaged. I know how to and will ask for help if needed. But unfortunately, I do not have qualifications, so I most likely will end up at another retail job, which is just the same thing in a different packaging.
I am sorry you may be losing your job and I really hope you find a better one that treats you right.
But for the life of me I can't figure out what company is and what company A & B are. would you be willing to send an anon ask with that and I promise I won't publish it. But if not I understand.
-Rodney
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cripplecharacters · 4 hours ago
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Hi, 
So, I have written expression disorder and dysgraphia, which means this might be a bit rambly or unclear but I’ll try my best to stay on as clear and as brief as I can. 
I’m currently writing a fanfiction for Wynonna Earp as a way to improve my writing skills without needing to stress about it. Background on the show: It’s a supernatural show based around a descendant of Wyatt Earp who was a legal officer in the wild west and got involved in a massive feud. It also has his friend Doc Holliday becoming immortal and being a love interest for the main character. The primary reason I’m doing this is because I dislike how they portrayed Doc Holliday in the series (often outright the opposite of the reality) and also because they just left out the fact he was disabled completely. Due to a gunshot wound when he was fairly young, probably along with weakness due to having tuberculosis for most of his adult life, which did eventually kill him, he used a cane part time. He also had a cleft lip and palate that was surgically corrected and he got surgery for it as an infant and had speech therapy, which doesn’t really seem to have impacted his adult life much in what I’m writing.
 I do have chronic pain due to an injury which was pretty bad when I was younger, so having a character who’s portrayed as dealing with that and continuing to be brave and selfless would have meant the whole world to me at that point in my life and still will. But as I was doing research I ran into a few things I knew very little about. 
My own disabilities are invisible, which means that I don’t have much experience with how people respond to seeing mobility aids. It would be interesting to show people’s responses, especially since he pretty famously took offense easily and didn’t leave things alone. There’s a fun scene there but I’m not sure what a common response to set it off would be. The biggest problem I have, that I haven’t been able to find a lot about: according to a medical article I read even when it’s cured people who had tuberculosis typically have some lung damage. I haven’t been able to find a lot on how that would impact someone day to day. He was cured of it magically but the idea of there still being damage makes sense based on the in universe rules and also someone being magically cured is generally considered not good. So how would it impact someone on a daily basis?
There’s some things in the research I did that make me think he was autistic (namely literal thinking to the point where he almost killed someone due to not understanding that a duel was meant to be a joke as a teen). Or maybe I’m just projecting because I am. Any ideas for how somebody who grew up in a time where nuerodivergence just wasn’t known would accommodate himself and be helped by friends? How would they understand it at that time?
How in general do friends respond to disabilities and try to help now?
There’s a few other things but they’re mainly just me being a beginner writer who doesn’t honestly. Thank you so much for reading through this even if you don’t end up responding!
[part 2] clarification: I meant the cleft palate wouldn't come up in what I'm writing because he's an adult and it didn't seem to have huge bearing on his adult life. I'm so sorry I left out part of that sentence in my ask bc I have a learning disability! didn't mean to! I'm so sorry and thank you again!
Hello!
People respond in many ways. In the modern west a lot of it involves random strangers being intrusive as shit ("what happened to you??") but in historical times I think it would be more of avoidance, especially if he has visible symptoms of tuberculosis. People still think that "visibly disabled person coughing = plague". If you're going for historical accuracy, it wouldn't really surprise me if strangers didn't want to sit next to him.
Long tuberculosis (affecting 25% of those who had TB) seems to be very similar to COPD, so the main day-to-day effect would probably be fatigue, being out of breath after physical exertion, etc. COPD is an incredibly common disability so you should be able to find a lot of info about it and how it can be managed.
Friends will also respond in many ways, and it also depends a lot on the disabled person. This guy sounds like the "hyper-independent physically disabled man" type and in my experience most of them don't talk about their needs much, especially not with the boys. In this case the accommodation is often just silently agreed on after spending some time together (e.g., after a few times going out they can see how annoyed he gets when they suddenly change plans so they learn to tell him as soon as they know, if he drops something they pick it up for him without saying anything since they know it's tiring for him to get up, etc.). If they know him well enough to know he takes offense easily they probably wouldn't bring up his inability to do something to not upset him and try to work around it instead.
I don't have enough historical knowledge to answer the second question, so I'll leave it to other mods. But I think it'd make sense if they just thought he was eccentric or weird rather than having a medical condition.
Hope this helps,
mod Sasza
Hello, thank you for your ask! In regards to the second question, it would depend on his symptoms, how well/if he could mask, and how other people view(ed) him.
I'm assuming he's level 1 / low support needs, as you don't mention him having a caretaker or difficulty doing tasks. Some of the examples include specific autistic traits that he may or may not have/used to have, they're mostly there to be examples. These are also assuming you're writing him as an adult only, if you want some info on how it would be like growing up during this time let us know!
Without good knowledge of autism, most people would think he's very strange if he cannot [fully] mask. Flat affect, lack of social understanding and other symptoms would make most allistic people uncomfortable, with responses ranging from thinking he's just weird [and would want to avoid him] to believing he's angry at them specifically [and would either want to avoid him or get aggressive themselves]. Most people will probably just see it as character quirks rather than symptoms of anything, or even think he's choosing to act the way he does. His friends would most likely be other neurodivergent people who either experience the same symptoms or don't have enough of a social understanding to realize he's not acting 'correctly' if he doesn't mask.
Unless his friends/family experience similar symptoms to him, they probably wouldn't understand why he does/reacts the way he does. This isn't to say they wouldn't try to accommodate him still, that moreso depends on the individual, but those who don't understand might try to push him to 'get over it' more than someone who gets it. Like Sasza said, over time his friends would be able to accommodate him by noticing what makes him upset/happy and how to help. 'Doc likes to keep his hands busy so I gave him my butterfly knife to spin' or ' the yelling in the hall was bothering him so I asked if he wanted to go to outside with me' could be ways of accommodating him without realizing, basically seeing his symptoms and trying to find an easy solution to help, wether or not they understand them. They could also give him unhelpful solutions while trying to accommodate, which would probably just further stress Doc if given in a stressful situation. Essentially unless he knows what helps and tells them it would be a guessing game for them [if he does that or his friend[s] respect it depends on them]. Try to think of his symptoms and what might be available at the time to help [like stim toys didn't exist back then but butterfly knives did, and ear defenders weren't a thing but he could walk away if needed].
As to how he'd accommodate himself, he wouldn't know words like 'stim' or 'overstimulated,' but if he doesn't care about/understand social norms he would be more likley to 'move in odd ways' or exit an upsetting area. A more socially conscious person might try to hide it, like using small tactile stims [i.e. rubbing a cloth or tapping his foot] or making excuses to leave an upsetting area. He might also be able to mask and try to just bear it, only unmasking around friends or in private.
Also the wiki said he was born in 1851 but died in 2020, and although autism would be named during his lifetime I'm not sure he would identify with it. The first medical documentation of autism was in 1877, and at the time it was called developmental [r-slur]. I doubt he'd want to identify with that, and even later on autism was only ever studied in children, and of course was not thought of well. It was thought to be caused by cold parenting or a form of psychosis/schizophrenia exclusive to children in the early to mid 1900's. For many, many years the only idea of autism he'd have would essentially be that. Because most studies at the time thought autism could be 'grown out of' [with exception to higher support needs people] he'd have lived most of his life at that point believing it was a child only disease. Even if he hadn't heard about autism until the late 1900's-early 2000's, it was still thought of as a stigmatized childhood disease by the public until recently [even by people today, hence the blog's existence]. If he's the type of character to be less set in his opinions at an old age then maybe later he could read on modern autism and identify with it, but I find older people tend to prefer dismissing disability for the sake of avoiding any change.
I hope this was at all helpful!
Mod Rot
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uselessmoonlight · 1 day ago
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Stranger part 11
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Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother.
Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.
Previous / series masterlist / character sheet / next
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Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.
Ónoma literally means name in Greek, at least according to google translate. View this as the y/n of this fic.
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“You know what, I wasn’t gonna go into town today, but I need to cool off. I’ll see you in a bit.” Peach exclaimed, still shocked at the man’s audacity.
“Did I get you that hot and bothered? Wait you’re really going to leave me here? At least get me inside!” He demanded, but Ónoma only kept walking. “Please?” He called out in desperation. “Oh, come on I said please didn’t I?"
“Wretched woman. Can’t even have any fun around here.” He grumbled. He could crawl back to the house, but he was too proud for that. He could remain seated here, but he’d be vulnerable, for as far as a God could be. He could try and stand, but he’d probably only injure himself more. Poseidon groaned, what had he gotten himself into? Maybe she’d treat him better if she knew he was a God, but then again, he was injured.
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Of course, Agathe had to be the one to open the door. Peach really wasn’t in the mood to interact with the priestess, but Agathe seemed to sense as much and called for her younger sister. Irene was bathing, so she’d have to wait a bit. As she sat at the table with Agathe, she could only think about the comment.
The comment was bold and demeaning, but she also couldn’t help but feel flattered. The man in question was exceedingly beautiful, but he was still a man. Men would fuck a rock if it had a hole, stop it. She cursed herself.
“You seem a bit flustered, I don’t think it’s because of me, but if it is.” Agathe inhaled, then continued. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, it mustn’t  be nice to be in a position where you’d have to stop a person from doing that. I’ve spoken with and apologised to Arete, if it makes you feel any better, and I’m extremely grateful for your discretion about the situation. I feel so ashamed of what I could’ve done.” She rambled.
“Agathe, you stopped the moment I stepped in. Sure, you should’ve stopped when she told you to, but maybe you didn’t hear her. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and you’ve showed remorse. I’m not upset with you, anymore, it’s something else. Don’t worry, alright.”
“I know we’ve never really been friends, but my sister cares about you, so by extension, I care about you. At least a little bit. I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
“Thank you, Agathe. The same goes for you, though now is not really good time, but if it’s something urgent-”
“Thank you.” Agathe interrupted, giving her an understanding nod. “You’ve got your own things to worry about right now.” She smiled softly at the younger girl.
☆☆☆
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Irene questioned her friend.
“I needed to clear my head, walk with me?”
“And you came to me, instead of Telemachus? I’m honoured, you usually go to him with your dilemmas. Wait, is it about him?” Irene interrogated.
“No, it’s not about Tele, and I talk to you about plenty of stuff, he’s just a bit more serious than you are.”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Her friend snorted. “I shouldn’t laugh, I’m sure if I had to grow up around those pigs I’d be the same.”
“You’d probably be ogling them, Renebug.”
“You offend me, I’d never go for such dogs.” Irene said in mock offense. “No, you’re right I’d definitely appreciate looking at some of them. From afar! I wouldn’t dare go near them. It’s such a pity when the handsome ones are so…” She paused.
“Misogynistic? Beastly? Repulsive, personality wise? Abrasive? Arrogant?- ” Ónoma listed.
“All of the above?” Irene suggested. The two giggled at their own antics.
“This is exactly what I meant, by the way.”
“Yeah, I’m way less serious, I get it. So, what did you want to talk about, if it wasn’t your other half?”
“There’s this man-”
“By the Gods! You? Thinking about a man? I never thought I’d live to see the day!” Irene exclaimed, pretending to faint in her friends arms. “Fan me, Peach, I think I’m in shock.”
“Gods Irene, get up.” Ónoma giggled, pushing her dramatic friend away. “You don’t even know what I want to say.” She sputtered out between laughter.
“Well go on then, I want to know everything. Is he handsome?”
“Ethereal, but it doesn’t matter, he’s a pain in my ass, that’s what he is.” Irene was taken aback, she’d never heard her friend describe a man as attractive, much less ethereal. She’d have to see it for herself one day.
“I found him, stranded on the beach, more injury than man. I’ve been taking care of him, but he’s… He’s like if the suitors were all bark no bite.” Irene’s eyes widened.
“He’s that bad, huh? Maybe you can get your little prince to kick him out.” Irene calling her friend that did not offend her. Perhaps she was biased, though not unfounded, or perhaps the context and the tone mattered. Irene hadn’t meant for it to be derogatory, she actually got along nicely with the prince, not that their paths crossed often.
“I wouldn’t want him to piss off Zeus, from what the king told me they don’t have a great track record with him.”
“Wait, hold on, you spoke with the king? When was this?” Irene exclaimed.
“I had dinner at the palace yesterday, as a thank you for protecting Queen Penelope. Don’t think it earned me any favour with the royals, if anything it did the opposite. I don’t really want to talk about it.” While Irene was a massive gossip, she knew that she could trust her with this. Her friend would never share the secrets Ónoma told her.
“I could come by, then we could be so annoying that he’d want to leave without kicking him out.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” Peach laughed. “No, I’d feel bad about him leaving before he’s healed properly.”
“Ever the saint.” Irene rolled her eyes, smiling. Then in a more serious tone she continued. “Your mother would be proud. She taught you well, you could still become a healer if all of your ‘helping out’ ever gets to be too much.”
“I’ve been considering it more and more recently, but I’m not ready to step away from everything else just yet.” Ónoma muttered, softly.
☆☆☆
When Ónoma returned to her house, she was a lot calmer, that was until she saw Perikles. The man had gotten halfway to her house by pushing the mat he was sat on through the sand with his legs, but had seemingly given up. Now, he sat in the middle of the sand, glaring at the girl who was doubled over in laughter. The construction workers had finished up and had already left. She imagined he’d waited for them to leave, before he attempted to do whatever it is he did.
“Alright, let’s get you inside.” Peach said, still snickering. The man was still glaring at her, but didn’t protest as she helped him up.
Next.
☆☆☆
Taglist:
@apollos-dodgeball-target
@barrythestrawberry041
@doodle-with-rhy
@isla-finke-blog
@suckerforblondies
@trashcannotbealive
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lampochkaart · 1 day ago
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1, 2, 3, 7, 8, 18, 19 and 20 for Kokichi for the character ask??? (Sorry if that's too many haha)
Woah, so many! Okay, okay, I don't mind👀
1. Why do you like or dislike this character?
I love him so much!! I really love how complex he is, how incredible charismatic and fun he is, how fucking smart he is... And I also love how flawed and biased he is. And how cynical and stubborn he is.
I absolutely LOVE the characters that are right and wrong at the same time. Kokichi often says something that is technically right, but at the same time his judgement is very flawed so it's impossible to completely agree with him. Or he's trying to do something good but the way he's doing it is... not great. Or has a good intentions but is being a complete asshole about it.
Like, for example, the situation with Maki. Yes, it's a good thing that he warned everyone about an assassin since they're in a killing game. But also he was trying to separate her from the group and kept needling her even when she wasn't showing any agression to others (and also she had plenty oportunities to kill, but made no move to do it). Only willing to see her as a threat.
And, of course, he's also a very tragic character. What's even worse is that most of it is self inflicted. He isolates, he turns people against himself, he cuts off every possible friendly connection he had. He spends so much time investigating, coming up with plans. And dies in a horrible painful way for the sake of a plan. The plan that didn't work. And he lied to such an extent that people doubted even the sincerity of his last words. Absolutely soul crushing (and body crushing SORRY)
10/10 angst, my heart is in pieces💔
He's both funny and entertaining and also very tragic and I love him for it
2. Favorite canon thing about this character?
Hmm... Hard to only choose one
Probably his insane acting abilities. How much he's able to control his emotions, how fast can he switch from one to another. How he's able to keep his face no matter how he feels
3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?
Difficult question, because I really like him. Even (especially) with his flaws
Uhhh... His bad CGs maybe? It's more of a problem with V3 in general (although some CGs from other games also have problems). But I'm just thinking about those ones from after trial 4 and they... look very weird. It might be becuase V3's production was rushed, but still
Other that that it's what I'm talking about in 19th question
7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?
8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?
I'm gonna answer these two questions in a different ask since it would probably be pretty long answer and this post is already long enough
18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?
Oh, I'll take this as an invitation to ramble about Kokichi and Kaito!! >:]
I think Kaito and Kokichi's relationship is probably the most interesting in the game. They are polar opposites. They are two sides of the same coin. The are narrative foils.
It's so facinating to see their opposite ideologies clash. Kaito is an idealistic optimist, who wants to play the role of a hero, who values emotions over logic, who's willing to believe at someone simply because he wants to. Kokichi is a cynical pessimist, who likes playing the villain, who values logic over emotion, and who would rather lie, than let people get close to him.
Because of that they constantly get into arguements. And they're totally baffled by each other. Before they never met anyone like that, probably haven't even considered people like this real. How could someone be so cynical and distrusting? How could someone be so naive and trusting? They just can't understand each other's point of view because it's so different from their own. And that's just so fun to watch
But at the same time... They are very similar. Both of them are liars. Both of them are upholding an image, presenting themselves stronger than they are. Both are social, like to be around people. Both like to have fun. Both like to tell crazy stories. Both sometimes act "immature".
And also I like this little fact that a lot of Kaito's loved items are Kokichi's liked items and a lot of Kokichi's loved items are Kaito's liked items. So they even have a lot of shared interests!
It's very entertaining to watch them get into conflicts with each other. And it's because of all their antagonism throughout the game, that it's so cool to see them work together in Ch.5.
They're forced in a fucked up hopeless situation and they do their best to make the most use of it. They have a common goal: to end the killing game. So they put aside their differences and work together. They see each other in their most vulnerable moments. They hate it, but there's no way to avoid it. They put their trust in eachother. They switch roles. But at the same time the roles don't change. Kaito becomes a liar (but he was always one). Kokichi becomes a martyr (but he was always going to do that).
I love 5th case because it's not a murder out of malice, not a murder to get our and not an accident. It's an act of trust. They both put trust in each other. Even though they were pretty much enemies for a good part of the game! They both know they're dying. They both know that there's a high risk of the plan failing. But they still choose to do it. For a small chance of success. For a small chance of a happy ending. Not for themselves, but for their friends.
In my opinion Kaito and Kokichi have one of the most interesting relationships in DR. And I firmly believe that to understand one of them, you have to understand the other. Only then it's possible to see the full picture.
19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?
Kokichi's relationship with Kiibo. He's just constantly picking on him for no reason. The bit quickly becomes too repetetive and just unnecessary mean. Also to me it feels that a lot of things Kokichi does should have some kind of meaning behind them (sometimes even several layers of meaning). So I would've kinda expected that since Kokichi's doing this so persistently, he's trying to do something. Like maybe he's somehow trying to push Kiibo to accept his unique abilities and powers. And while that maaaybe kinda can be interpreted like Kokichi is doing it in the most weird awkward way possible. But still, it's a pretty big stretch. Without any actual payoff it's just Kokichi being mean to Kiibo and that's it. Just bullying the poor robot who wants to be treated normally
They could be friends if Kokichi was nicer to Kiibo. And I would really like them to be friends...
20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?
GONTA!!!
Kokichi's friendship with Gonta is so so important to me!!
I don't know, I just think it would be so nice if Kokichi would hang out with Gonta and listen to him talk about bugs even though he hates bugs. And if Gonta would participate in Kokichi's pranks. I just like to think they would have fun together. They could've been such an cool duo if they weren't in a shitty stressful situation.
I like Kokichi being friends with Miu and potentially with Rantaro and with Kaito, but Kokichi's friendship with Gonta holds a special place in my heart<3
Thank you for the ask!!<333
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whatremained · 1 day ago
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actually keep writing reactions i love reading them
and sorry for responding again. i really like this musical and ... just like talking about it when i can.
with you saying that me reading connor as autistic is a real take, i giggle. i mean i believe it, but i haven't heard many other people read him that way, and it's nice to see someone who agrees. and i do also argue a lot the cast is neurodivergent, and i would say... the main three characters we NEED to be focusing on and thinking about throughout the story (evan, zoe, connor), are all autistic.
though the authors grossly say that evan isn't autistic because "he wants friends…" obviously they don't know what autism is. most autistic people WANT friends, just like how most PEOPLE want friends. we're no different. evan… quite literally is read as autistic, not only to neurotypical people, but also neurodivergent people. (so much so that when i attended the show with my brother who had never seen it before, he turned to me after act one and directly asked if evan was autistic. he is neurodivergent, and it wasn’t an insult by the way he worded it and the way he expressed it. 😭) it REALLY sucks that the writers of the show said shit like that, but it doesn’t change how most of the audience perceives evan.
zoe just reads as autistic to me because of her very set mind and how she views the world. also... zoe can come off as bratty at times! and how she acts can be mistaken for genuine brattiness when she's just... trying to make a point, or say something. ex. her sounding pissed when evan was in connor's room, asking him why he was there. she wasn't hurt or anything, she just wanted to know. but it comes off as very sharp and harsh. she definitely does not understand tone and… i also don’t so yk! zoe's potential autistic-coded being so ignored messes me up. "women getting ignored in the mental health field" quota filled with this musical/book's fandom i guess. good lord, zoe is genuinely such an interesting character, and it pains me that she’s just… ignored all the time. it’s the fact that she’s so obviously a main character. i mean in the playbill, at least the one i have… the way the actors are listed, assumably, is by their status as characters, as in… main lead, and leads. and then supporting cast (as well as understudies & such).
(photo evidence of the listed cast lol)
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(touring cast of this year. michael fabisch plays evan, hatty ryan king plays zoe, bre cade plays heidi, caitlin sams plays cynthia, alex pharo plays connor, jeff banks plays larry, gabriel vernon nunag plays jared, makena jackson plays alana… the rest are understudies & the voices we hear when social media posts appear. this… order objectively makes sense for character appearances imo. zoe is… in a bunch of the story and is a very important character. just rambling here though.)
zoe is a character that has a huge story in the show and… she’s ignored because??? idk? she’s a woman? and people in this fandom don’t care about women it seems!
i could go on for HOURS about connor because his symptoms really replicate mine, and it's VERY easy for me to point out, but i'll give my small little rant. from the very start, described by evan in the book, he knew connor from previous classes as children. obviously they were never close, but he saw him in grade school. he describes just knowing connor as basically the kid who… cried a lot. now crying a ton isn’t a neurotypical vs neurodivergent thing. it happens to both kinds of people. but the reason for crying may lead to the realization of “oh! this character might be autistic!”. for connor, as a younger child, we see the cause in one story for why connor may have cried a lot in school. this is the infamous “mrs g” story mentioned in the musical. he cried and got angry because he wasn’t line leader that day, mostly because of the fact he WAS supposed to be line leader that day, and the fact he wasn’t subverted his expectations. for a lot of autistic people, and for me, when things don’t go routinely, they tend to get upset. it’s smart to assume the crying would come from that, feeling overwhelmed day after day.
honest to god; i was going to type a lot more after this but i have about no energy to. my shortest explanation is read the book, connor’s parts. explains a LOT on why i think he’s autistic. i could probably tell you more later but i don’t want this ramble to sit in my drafts for five weeks so.
i also see how people could argue that alana & jared are autistic, but there’s the fact that we don’t really get to hear from them as characters all that much, so we can’t full determine it from there.
but alana i will go out and say, yes, she probably has autism. like her character really reads as autistic person trying their hardest to mask but kind of just… failing somewhat?
jared…? idk. he’s… i could care less man. i don’t want to analyze that asshole more than i have to. i can see the point people try and make with jared, and i can go “sure! yeah!” but. i don’t want to talk about him. he’s the bane of my existence i swear.
anyways yeah that was my little autism ramble i. am so sick and tired of typing rn 🙏
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worshipfulmercy · 8 months ago
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i have so many thoughts about his gender and how he's kind of textually a woman and/or abinary (read tags if interested)
#i dont stand for cis rust cohle. that's not real. come on...#like... super dissociated from his body and his desires. and he has to keep a tenuous hold on his identity via various forms of self control#('contemplating the idea of allowing his own crucifixion'#being sexless#being able to compartmentalize his identity to fit a need)#says himself that relationships between men and women don't work and are only fit to procreate#says his daughter's death spared him from the sin of being a father#the act of being a man or being a woman are two extremes that are too harshly defined for him#edges drawn too sharply and not allowing for any flexibility which he needs#to be a man is to be the executioner and to be a woman is to be predestined to be the martyr that is what he believes#these are choices too difficult for him to make so he leaves them unmade vague up in the air for other people to stare sneer and interrogate#and it's worse yet when his body is equal parts weapon and a stress relief mechanism to others#gets his bodily autonomy stripped so often it's second nature to him. uses barbiturates like a 50's housewife#he cleans up real fuckin' pretty— hisself and the messes he's roughly shoved into#he's tired of talking to other people like a human being— he speaks another language entirely. one more visceral and raw#one that says the truth and nothing but.#if i think about the scene in episode six with maggie and what it means—#if the two of them are women#or if one of them is something that isn't exactly a man—#i think i will lose it#rust's looser swagger (or lack thereof) in contrast to marty's prevalent machismo btw... fascinating#his kind of deer-like charm. he Looks vulnerable only he's protected by an impermeable barrier#like don't fucking touch him. you can't#rambled so MUCH. sorry. but if you understand you understand#rust cohle#true detective#disasterpiece.png
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dizzybizz · 11 months ago
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"this is regrettably the best kiss of your life, you understand?"
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trixxedheart · 20 days ago
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It is amazing how the "people that love and uplift transwomen" website will instantly fucking maul a transwoman if she even remotely insinuate that using radfem rhetoric harms trans people
#this is about punkitt making a post literally just saying ''you shouldn't treat masculinity as a threat because it harms trans people''#and straight up getting death threats over it#how is it so hard for people to understand that treating masculinity as a threat directly harms transwomen#that it treats transwomen who show any sort of masculinity as a failure#it reminds me of trans people on 4chan because it enables so much self-loathing#you cannot argue ''men/masculinity are inherently evil'' and claim it's different from radfem/TERF rhetoric because you're trans#it just projects unrealistic body standards onto women#many women including cis women have masculine traits. I know women who have stubble and grow shittons of body hair#like—''biological sex'' is NOT a binary it is a social construct just like any other#and also only hyper focusing hate on masculinity because of patriarchy isn't an effective way of addressing patriarchy at all#hating a group of people based on their traits is not the same as being progressive. acknowledging—and more importantly. teaching people—#—and how it gives them certain privileges over others and to call it out and dismantle those systems is so fucking powerful you have no idea#also I'm going to be so for real with you. the vast majority of transmen do NOT have the privilege you think they do#it's the privilege of being able to pass more than anything. which any trans person would know thats really fucking hard!!!#I love rambling in the tags so much it's so great#sorry for this lol#queer discourse#also addendum: when I say 'women' it's all encompassing. if anyone gets pissy at me for saying 'women' and thinking I'm not including —#—transwomen in that then I'm killing you! you are the problem!
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lifenconcepts · 1 day ago
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honestly, as someone who is a wolf therian, and also interested in human and animal psychology, I must add that most people can be recognised for reverting to a more simple mental state when sick, I’m unsure if any study has been done on it but through my own experiences and of those I knew I can find that the mind just goes into a survival mode and turns off the more complicated functions to be able to focus on those which are needed for fighting whatever infection or harm the body is baring currently and to be able to sustain yourself enough to continue towards life, and it can be simple to paint it as your identity because when you’re so aware that you’re an animal (or any term or belief, at that) then you tend to subconsciously seek out proof of that, even if that would’ve otherwise gone unnoticed. Not denying you of yourself but just pointing out that it’s a phenomenon many experience, albeit usually seen as reverting to the state of a ‘child’ than animal- given that most of the more mature logic is shunned in favour of simple and coherent conclusions, it could be through behaviour that immediately work as this snappy “I don’t feel okay and so I must be in danger and so I must fight” when usually it comes through as “I feel a bit under the weather, I wonder what I had done to invoke this, perhaps my head hurts because I’ve spent a bit too long on this activity, then to rest up I’ll stop doing it and allow my body to recover, maybe even drink some water because I haven’t done so in a while”.. keep in mind that this often happens without even consideration! It’s these neural impulses within our mind that can snap around at something close to light speed and not always is worded out (hell, I don’t even have an internal monologue!) yet the understanding is still there. Okay but what I also wanted to say is that if bedridden, our silly instincts also come to play more loudly than when healthy, because there’s less of that conscious self that tries to stop us (we always tend to think of how we look and act, as it so happens, and hide or fake behaviour to come across as what we think others want of us), so even those who don’t identify as animals may find themselves speaking through noises, acting in ways they usually wouldn’t (staring, tilting head, etc), and presenting with things we usually associate with animals. If you look for it, there’s so much more we have in common with other species! Humans and creatures do have a lot of similarities after all! We also sometimes tend to seek our touch, like cats, or on the contrary change our minds and want our space and boundaries, also like cats. Or want to run around and spend time with a person we adore, like a dog.. we wish to fly - like the birds, and comfort in repetition is nearly a universal pattern. Basically I’m just sharing my little say on this, without any harm intended.
ah, sorry for the ramble.. I like writing and this just prompted me to share what I’ve learnt on this topic so far. Thanks for the opportunity but sorry for the response if you didn’t want it haha..
I’ve had a few of such encounters myself! Some times where I feel like an animal, usually a hound, and other times just like a weakened person. It can just come as a sharp realisation but usually for me came across just with ‘if you pay attention to it, you’ll find stuff that meet your beliefs’. Similar to how optimists often spot the good stuff and that proves their point and makes them like life more, while those with critical worldviews tend to ignore the good in favour of the negative and say ‘hey! See!? There is bad!! So I was right in thinking the world is awful!’ When in fact it can just be the same exact balance of situations to one another, but then again, each individual is made different and goes through life differently. Still! There are always occasional similarities that tie us closer and create bonds!!
I got really sick recently, to the point where I was bed ridden in so so much pain and something I found is that I revert to some of animal instincts a lot more then when I’m healthy.
For example I got so extremely productive of my den and pack member. To the point where I was basically growling at people who were being too friendly. My teeth where nearly always beared when in others presence and I was so worried that my home (friend included) was in danger.
I could also not stomach anything that wasn’t in a foxes diet (bread, certain meets) I was only eating fruit and chicken at one point.
Overall it was a very weird experience 😁
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thekittyokat · 9 months ago
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you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah
#sorry i got really into my feelings about mark hoffman again#the very specific version of him in my brain that i really really wish i had the time and energy to properly share with you guys#saw#well until i muster the energy to explode all of my feelings out into a fic. if you want to TRY and understand#know that my three biggest hoffman fic insps right now are as follows#your best kept secret hoffman. a series of mistakes hoffman. and rushed like a dreadful wind hoffman.#there is a very clear throughline just know i am extremely emotionally compromised rn#thinking about theee fics vs the canon path hoffman spirals down#something something the absolute tragedy of watching a man's descent into madness#the transformation of a man into a monster#and what could have saved him from himself and kramer's corruption#sorry i'm rambling so much oh my god i was just having such a crying fit out of nowhere about this#do you think he could feel it happening. do you think he was aware he was losing his mind.#the script version of him fucks with me so bad. the crazed rankings and the longer hair and him not being well kept anymore#it's impossible to think he didn't know he was deteriorating#fuuuck okay i need to either chill or write a whole longfic rn#i project on that guy so much i truly don't know if i could properly write my vision of him#until i do something more substantial the full extent of my hoffman exists for me and my boyfriend only. they get me like no one else#well ginny and jenna also get me. please read best kept secret and a series of mistakes Oh My God#where am i going with this. i like tag rambling actually this is a nice way to do it without forcing EVERYONE to read my delirium#anyways if you've read all of this i think i love you? feel free to dm me about hoffman and my very specific headcanons and aus#maybe soon i'll try and start writing my fics about this tragic man#i could never say any of this on twitter btw they'd string me up for my opinions on him as a sad wet beast who could have been fixed#if only he hadn't been weaponized first#god i'm too tired to even be as embarrassed about this as i should be. thought i unlearned cringe already#but i've been spending way too much time on twitter and they HAAATE hoffman there#rip. i know it's not that serious but i'm sensitive rn and hate feeling lonely in my thoughts#ok bye for real otherwise i'll never shut up. i might tag ramble more often bc this was therapeutic in a way i needed badly#cat chat
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flowercrowngods · 10 months ago
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It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.
Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.
It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.
Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.
Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.
It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.
It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.
Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.
They have a couch now. A sofa.
It's so fucking unreal.
He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.
And it feels really fucking big.
At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.
For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.
The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.
It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.
And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."
"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.
Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.
Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.
"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.
"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."
Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.
Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.
And it's so unreal.
"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."
Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.
"Why's it crazy, angel?"
He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.
"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."
Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.
"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."
"We've got a couch now."
Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.
"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."
Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."
And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.
But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.
And they have each other.
They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.
In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.
Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.
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cent-scratchnsniff · 11 days ago
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Please don't hurt yourself
#lobotomy corporation#lobcorp#library of ruina#hod#hod lobcorp#hod lobotomy corporation#hod library of ruina#erm... michelle. hii michelle. going to have to spoiler tag for you though baby#lobotomy corp spoilers#lobcorp spoilers#okay i think thats it#no shading because this made me want to KILL YMSELF#it looks fone w out it anyways. yay. thank you filter after effects for saving my ass this . hurt me so muchh to try to finish#nothing specific that had me make this. at least from lobcorp lor. its more of having more empathy towards my past self or when i was young#than me. right now. it feels as if the past is so devoid of my current self yet i know that its Me. its just so distant. to the point where#at times it feels as if the me of the past is devoid of the current me. im told im very empathetic? hard to tell. that im patient and kind#or more of understanding to everyone but Myself. so when i try to be kind to myself it feels impossible. but im able to do it to my past se#which makes a disconnect. please dont hurt youself. please dont hate youself. you dont need to do that. i know you want to live it hurts#i know. its alright to want to live. you dont need to apologize and feel Guilty. but never towards Myself. to console and wish to soothe bu#not to the current self. to pardon and accept but not to this Me. so i wanted to put it down kinda. felt most similar to hod ish.#its guilt for living. apologizing for existing. wanting to be accepted and pardoned. but also forgiving and accepting the self of before#not so much forgiving. forgive is a weird word. the hurt never leaves. and the guilt is there regardless. but. yknow. accept#sorry some random shit. yappin. who gaf abt that guy. who was that guy. anyways. hod <3 HODD!!!#just like to ramble abt what i think abt when i go to make pieces. since i uhh dont really have anyone to tell who would care. so. awkward.#god thats embarrassing actuallt migjt delete if im not lazy asf later. loser oversharing on the internet AHH 💥💥#uhmm back to the actual piece. the proportions and fhe coloring were having me feel like i was dging trying to get it right. almost#considered just gettinf rid of it and scrapping the whole piece. didnt though. wanted to have it done and finished. hod <3#the feeligns described arent what i would relate w hod? but closest chatacter towards the general thougut. so wanfed to draw her#i wanted to do more w ligjting and such as well. but it never ended up getting in. maybe later
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