#I’m just glad other people are not happy about this

[mywordstovictor]

Yeah I’ve thought I was safe talking about testosterone stuff with other trans people just to get told that it’s gross. Like ‘what about bottom growth though? What do you do about that?’ Not something I feel the need to do anything at all about actually. ‘And you want to get hairier?’ Yep. ‘Testosterone makes you smell bad though.’ It doesn’t stop you from showering, though. It doesn’t dematerialize all your deodorant, though. My happiness is worth the potential cost to your nose, though. "It’ll ruin your singing voice." One, you’ve never heard me sing, and there’s a reason for that, two, go listen to some trans guy singers because your blanket statement is wrong, three, you know that most cis guys have voice cracks for a couple years, right? "You won’t be able to have kids." Bold of you to assume I hold my genetic material in high enough regard that I want another human to have half of it. Also, not necessarily. Also, I could have frozen some eggs.

It’s not surprising from cis older relatives, but other trans people? I’m happy for you and the peace you’ve found in the body you landed in and I’m proud of you for staying true to yourself despite pressure to medically transition. That’s a wonderful thing. But I just wanted to talk about how happy my straggly little chin hairs make me because I thought you’d be happy for me, too.

Anyway let’s be nice to each other even if we don’t really understand each other’s needs and choices, okay? We can be confused about why other transes want or don’t want the things they want or don’t want and hold back our judgement to keep from dampening each other’s happiness. ‘I don’t personally understand how growing belly hair, of all things, could make you this happy but I’m really really glad you have the belly hair of your dreams’ is okay. ‘Why would you want that, that’s gross’ is not.

We’re not talking about thinking someone’s lunch looks unappealing (which most people still consider quite rude to point out), we’re talking about the bodies of actual human people. If you might hurt someone’s feelings saying it about their sandwich, don’t fucking say it about their body.

Anyway I’ve been told testosterone makes you gross enough times I wanna rub my somewhat oily man hair on someone out of spite.

everyone knows that cis people need to be less weird about trans bodies but trans people also need to be less weird about trans bodies. no one gaf if ur scared of bottom growth or thinks its weird. keep that shit to urself. ppl keep talking about normalising trans people who don't medically transition but like. don't normalise not wanting to medically transition to the point that medical transition is stigmatised bcs you guys r freaks about trans bodies. no one cares u think that either ftm or mtf bottom surgery is ugly or weird looking. keep that to urself

[rosemariiaa]

~Obsessed~

𐙚— pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚— rosie’s note: hi hi there! this is one is a little short only because i was struggling with the other fic that was supposed to be posted tonight :( , so spare me i’ll work on that and drop it asap so no worries! but enjoy p being obsessed (per usual), happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚—link: rosie’s bookshelf

𐙚— themes: fluff, obsession (kinda)

𐙚— taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @imaginespazzi @pbaz7 @bueckersbitch @ldapper @makethemhoesmad

Obsession gets a bad reputation.

People throw the word around like it’s some kind of sickness, like it’s something to be ashamed of. They make it sound desperate, unhealthy, like the person on the other end of it has no control over themselves. Like caring too much, or noticing too much, or wanting too much makes you weak.

People might see obsession as an expression of imbalance or weakness, as though the person experiencing it has lost their sense of self or become consumed in a way that’s unhealthy. It can be painted as a lack of boundaries, as if the person is so fixated that they can no longer think clearly or act rationally.

But I don’t see it that way.

Obsession doesn’t always have to be negative.

The truth is, the line between obsession and love or passion is often blurry. It’s about how you channel it, how you manage it. When you can let yourself feel deeply without losing yourself in it, obsession doesn’t need to be something to be ashamed of. Sometimes, it’s exactly that level of investment that makes things meaningful.

Being obsessed means you see the details—the things no one else notices. It means you care enough to memorize the way someone bites their lip when they’re thinking or the way their laugh changes depending on whether they actually find something funny or if they’re just being polite.

And when it comes to Azzi, yeah, maybe I’m obsessed.

Actually, not maybe. I am.

And I don’t care. I take pride in it.

I take pride in the fact that I can pick her voice out of a crowd before I even see her. That I know the difference between her real smile and the one she gives when she’s just trying to be nice. That I know she has a playlist for every mood, even though she always pretends she’s too busy to mess with that kind of stuff.

There’s something satisfying about knowing her like that—like I’m in on some big secret that no one else has figured out yet.

Take last week, for example. We were sitting on her couch after practice, both exhausted, the TV playing some rom com movie neither of us was paying attention to. Azzi was scrolling through her phone, her face soft in the glow of the screen. I wasn’t even watching the movie anymore. I was watching her. I always do.

The way her brow furrowed a little as she read something. The way she tucked her legs under herself like she was trying to make herself smaller, even though she already takes up so little space. The way she absentmindedly played with the drawstring of her hoodie, a tiny detail that no one else would’ve even noticed.

I couldn’t help it. I had to say something.

“What’re you thinking about?” I asked, my voice cutting through the quiet.

Azzi glanced up at me, her expression unreadable for a moment before she shrugged. “Nothing important.”

But I could tell by the way she said it that it was important—at least to her.

And that’s the thing. I don’t think anyone else would’ve caught that. No one else would’ve seen the way her lips twitched like she was holding back a smile or the way her eyes softened like she was glad someone had asked.

I don’t mind being obsessed with her because it means I get to see her like this. In moments when she’s not “Azzi the stud” or “Azzi the calm and collected one.” When she’s just… Azzi.

And yeah, I’ll admit it: I look at her like she’s the only person in the room. But can you blame me?

She has this way of pulling me in without even trying. Like everything else fades, and it’s just her—her laugh, her smile, the way her curls frame her face by themselves when she’s not paying attention.

If that makes me obsessed, then fine. I’ll own it.

Because I don’t think obsession is a bad thing. Not when it means loving someone like this. Not when it means knowing someone in a way that no one else does.

Not when it’s her.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 10 - vulnerability

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, fluff central

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you and rafe had spent the whole afternoon together and it had been everything and more. just like he had promised the other week, he was showing you around LA and never leaving your side.

the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange as you walked along venice beach, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that made your heart race.

"you know," rafe said with a smile, glancing over at you, "i’m glad we’re doing this. not just the tour thing, but... you and me, this."

his words hit differently now, sitting down on the beach to watch the gentle waves and the sky change colours.

you looked over at him, "me too," you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

he grinned back, his playful energy still present, but a hint of seriousness took over him. "i've never done this before." he admitted.

"done what?" you asked him.

"caught feelings like this." he spoke softly, almost scared to say the words out loud.

you reached out to touch his cheek, "me neither rafe." you held his gaze, "there's still so much we have to learn about each other."

"i know, and that's what i'm scared of."

"why?" you questioned.

"i'm scared you won't like the version of me you uncover. i'm not good with my words but, i didn't used to be a good person. i was addicted to drugs, i bought girls home every night to fill a void, i was so unhappy and treated people so badly. but this," he stuck his hands out and pointed between the two of you, "i've never experienced this."

his truth taking you by surprise, but making your heart swell that he was opening up to you this way. "i'm not scared rafe. the rafe i know now is a good guy. i've never met someone like you and i want to know all parts of you even those that you think i won't like."

rafe let out a soft, almost shaky breath at your words. it was as if you had taken a weight off his shoulders without even realising it. his eyes softened, and the air between you two stilled for a moment.

his eyes didn't leave yours, no response was needed, but he pulled you in for a soft kiss full of emotion.

he pulled away to stare at you for a moment, searching your face for any sign of doubt, but there was none.

"i’ve been thinking about you a lot," he admitted, almost too quietly. "more than i thought i would. i know we’re still figuring things out, but i can’t help but want to be around you. want to be better because of you."

your heart fluttered at the honesty in his words, the vulnerability making you weak, all laid out in front you.

"rafe, you’re already better. you’ve made it this far and the fact that you're here with me, saying this stuff, shows me just how far you've come. you don’t have to prove anything."

his lips parted as if he was going to say something, but instead, he just smiled. without another word, he reached out, carefully taking your hand into his, the touch gentle, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

after many hours had passed of gentle touches and soft conversation, you headed back to the hotel in time to join the others and pack before your flight back home tomorrow.

your chest was full of happiness, feeling ready for what was to come.

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a/n: why am i crying writing this they are so cute i hate them

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1 @amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld @blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @vcnillafairy @bambii1i @sammyrenae68

i will be taking people off taglist if that don't interact! just as more people want to be added and need to make it fair<3

[daycourtofficial]

Take a look at my girlfriend

Pairing: Nesta x reader | WC: 4k | warnings: smut, drinking, oral (f!receiving and giving)

Summary: Based on this request - Nesta runs into Cassian post break-up, accidentally calling you her girlfriend, leading to a night of confusion and revelations

Author’s note: this is for @sjmromanceweek !!! Happy first kiss (and more!). Also I’m retconning Nesta being sober just for her to be hot and tipsy okay she deserves it

Rita’s was packed tonight - the entire city of Velaris was in the club it seemed, nonstop ordering drinks.

It was the first warm day in ages - warm enough for fae to bask in the sunlight during the day, but the nights were still cold enough to need a coat.

Or, it seemed, enough alcohol to keep you warm on the walk home.

Nesta was four drinks in, her cheeks dusted with a light pink from the heat and the alcohol. She moved through the crowd, back to the table the two of you occupied with Gwyn and Emerie, a drink in each hand.

She moved through the fae quite easily, her tall frame easily navigating the crowd. She slid back into the booth next to you, pressing a little closer to you then necessary.

If she was asked, she would say the crowd pushed her a bit harder than she expected. But really the alcohol in her system just made her hold back less when it came to you.

“Thank you, thank you!” You pressed your lips to Nesta’s cheek in thanks, taking your drink from her. “I was too ambitious with these shoes - I’d never make it that far.” You giggled, leaning into her side as she settled in next to you. You looked past Nesta, looking at the crowd of people drunkenly dancing, and Nesta was grateful your attention was away from her warm cheeks. 

Nesta turned to face Emerie and Gwyn, the two friends making kissing faces at Nesta when you weren’t looking. She rolled her eyes at her friend’s antics, the two of them desperate for Nesta to make a move on you.

“She likes you, Nesta.”

Nesta had pushed past Gwyn, trying to avoid having this conversation again. Gwyn shot out a hand, stopping Nesta.

“The sooner you admit it to yourself, the happier you’ll be.”

For weeks now, her two best friends had done little else except reenact the conversations between you and Nesta, with overzealous touches and giggles galore.

Nesta missed not having friends.

She looked away, avoiding their antics, when a large body in the crowd caught her eye. 

Cassian.

His red siphons glowed faintly, one on each wrist glowing in the low light of Rita’s. Nesta ducked her head, hopeful to avoid the encounter, but it was too late. You prodded her side with your elbow, pointing her to Cassian’s wave across the bar.

“Go say hi.”

You nudged her out of the seat, and before she could comprehend, she was walking across the floor of Rita’s, her shoes sticking slightly to the floor with each step before stopping in front of Cassian.

He looked genuinely happy to see her, but Nesta knew that was just the kind of male Cassian was.

Cassian looked behind Nesta, seeing you at the booth talking to Emerie and Gwyn. He smiled, glad that Nesta hadn’t used the breakup as an excuse to hide away from her friends.

The breakup had been mostly amicable. A series of hookups had led to them dating for almost a year before realizing they weren’t that well-suited once they tried to live together. 

Nesta hadn’t minded him when they saw each other a few times a week, but their lifestyles were too incompatible for cohabitation. Nesta preferred quiet mornings so she could ride her Peloton, whereas Cassian woke up ready to chirp about anything and everything. Nesta preferred nightly baths to unwind from her workday, whereas Cassian preferred time together to unwind. Reason after reason piled up, causing resentment to build until eventually they just couldn’t make it work. 

She had been sad - she knew it was coming, but it didn’t hurt any less. She hadn’t seen him around much these past few months, having heard from Emerie that he was seeing someone new.

That tidbit hadn’t made her upset, but standing before him, the need to feel some kind of win over him took control of her mind, the stress of the last few weeks culminating in the biggest lie of Nesta’s life. 

“She’s my girlfriend.”

The words came tumbling out of Nesta’s mouth before her brain could register them. The alcohol flowing through her caused her to not even realize she hadn’t actually said hi to him.

Cassian’s eyebrows raised, nodding softly. “Uh, okay. Yeah, I can see that.” Nesta’s brain was short-circuiting at his words, unable to take in Cassian’s nonchalance at her lie.

“I didn’t even tell you who I was talking about.”

If Cassian noticed the edge to Nesta’s voice, he didn’t let on.  

“I always figured she had a crush on you. You two make sense.”

Nesta balked, “me?” This was a very convincing lie, she was sure of it. She quickly straightened her spine, adopting an air of confidence. “It’s just - new. She never told me she’s had a thing for me for that long.”

Her eyes met yours across the bar, your enthusiastic wave at her sending butterflies through her stomach.

“‘Course she did. I went drinking with her one night and she told me how lucky I was because you were..” He scratched his head as he trailed off, looking for the exact words you had used. “A sexy bitch who could step on her’ or something like that.”

Cassian took a sip from his drink, “glad to see you’re doing well.” He reached his arm out, wrapping his hand around Nesta’s bicep. “Especially glad to see you still work out! You look great, Nes.”

Cassian’s smile never faltered as he walked away, and Nesta could make out the top of Rhys’s head from the direction Cassian was headed. 

He seemed chipper. And sober.

Meaning he’d likely be here for the rest of the night.

Nesta slunk back to the booth as you moved to make room for her, but she reached out a hand and grabbed your wrist. 

“Can we talk somewhere private?”

Emerie and Gwyn sipped their drinks quietly, giggling to each other. When Nesta looked at the pair, they made kissy faces at her as you maneuvered out of the booth, ignoring the middle finger Nesta sent to them behind your back. 

“Is everything okay?”

The look of concern etched on your face made Nesta want to kiss the space between your brows. Your voice hushed as you asked, “did Cassian say something?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I- um.. I told him something.” You stared at her, your balance wobbly as she looked at you.

Shit. Nesta felt immediately bad about this idea. You were already drunk, having pregamed with a few shots of tequila with one of your friends before meeting up for girl’s night. Nesta looked down at her feet, ashamed of her silly lie.

“I told him we were dating. It just kinda slipped out, but I think he’s staying here so would you- could be my girlfriend for the night?”

Your mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape, and Nesta could tell your brain was trying very hard to figure out what she was saying.

“We’re dating tonight?” You laughed, and Nesta’s heart sank at the sound. “I had no idea, this is great!” 

“Really?” Nesta asked, not trying to mask the hopeful tone of her voice.

“Yeah!”

Before Nesta could do anything, you grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her down to your mouth. Nesta melted into the kiss, the way you pressed against her, blocking out the whoops and hollers from her friends.

Your hands settled on her hips as she held onto your neck, your tongue swiping into her mouth in a way that had heat pooling in her core. 

The places that tongue could go.

The kiss was all consuming, every hesitation Nesta had ever felt around you fell off like clothes at the end of the day. Another thing she wanted to see come true - you in her apartment, clothes slowly falling off. She didn’t really care what happened or where so long as you kept your mouth on hers.

A cough disrupted the two of you, but you didn’t jolt from Nesta’s arms. You pulled your lips away, Nesta’s own lips following after you. She was certain she’d hear about that from Gwyn and Emerie later.

Your head tucked itself into Nesta’s neck, giving off a bashful look to whoever disrupted you. As Nesta offered a withering stare to whoever interrupted, she only found a bored male watching the two of you. You grew bored very quickly and began nipping at her neck, your teeth unsatisfied with how pale her skin was. 

“You’re in the way.” Nesta’s stare deflated, her arm circling your waist to move you as the fae sidestepped the pair of you. She pulled you with her, back to the booth her friends were in, their faces were smug as they watched the two of you the rest of the night. Drink after drink, you didn’t let Nesta go, always touching some part of her. Every so often your hands would travel up her thighs, first just sitting there, until they began wandering further and further up.

Nesta’s breaking point had been when your hand dipped below the fabric of her dress, getting close to her underwear. She had to have some semblance of self control, otherwise she would let your fingers glide inside of her right here in front of everyone.

“We should get out of here, go to sleep.” Nesta stood quickly, nearly knocking the table of drinks over. She said a quick goodbye to your friends as she ushered you to the door.

“I wanna stay here and make out with my girlfriend.” Your shouts over the music gave Nesta pause before she grabbed your wrist, pulling you through the bar until the cold night air hit you both. She hadn’t realized how stifling the club was until now, the cool air a much needed balm to her skin.

You continued your clinginess, hands and arms desperate to touch every inch of Nesta as she tried to walk the two of you down the block that separated Rita’s and her apartment. It was every late night fantasy come true, but filled with an extra layer of annoyance.

“Stop it.” Her tone was harsher than she was going for, an admonishment while trying to get her keys into her door lock. She felt proud as the door swung open, safely getting the two of you back to her apartment. 

All pride deflated once she turned and saw the look on your face. Your face resembled that of a kicked puppy - wobbly lip, big, sad eyes. You were half turned away from her before she ran a hand down your arm, leading you inside.

“What’s wrong?” She shut the door behind you, guiding you to her couch before sitting down next to her.

“Do you not like me?”

It felt like a punch to Nesta’s stomach. Before she could explain, you were blabbering again, the words falling from your tongue too fast to stop.

“Because I thought- I thought you did and Gwyn was helping me. She got you that romance book with the females to see how you felt about it.”

Nesta wasn’t entirely certain what to make of Gwyn’s recommendation at the time, assuming it was her form of teasing Nesta for her little crush on you and how the cover had two women who resembled you and Nesta. She didn’t want to hear Gwyn gloat about how quickly Nesta read the story, or how it gave her new things to think about when she was alone at night. 

And how she’d reread certain scenes over and over again, imagining the two of you in place of the main characters.

“I do like you.” The words were hard for Nesta to get out - you had been looking up at her the same way you had looked at the paintings at the art gallery you two went to a few weeks ago and Nesta couldn’t take it. “A lot.”

Your squeal caused her to pull back from you, the sound a surprise to her ears. The space she had created between you two was enough for you to move your hands around Nesta’s hips, pulling her toward you before placing sloppy kisses on her neck. Nesta short-circuited at the feeling of your lips on her collarbones and she quickly grabbed your face as she felt your mouth moving lower over her sternum.

“Sweetheart, you’re drunk.”

“But you like me and you told Cassian you’re my hot girlfriend.”

Nesta’s knees buckled at how unwavering your voice was.

Hot girlfriend.

“Now’s not the time, pet.” Your hands wandered her body, leaving goosebumps as your eyes and hands focused on her breasts. Your fingers lightly pinched her nipples, causing Nesta to gasp lightly.

“I can be your little pet, just tell me how to please you, Nes.”

Your words were accented with you pushing your face directly into Nesta’s chest, kissing all of the exposed skin you could find. Her fingers threaded your hair momentarily before pulling your head back.

If Nesta had known how horny you got when you drank, she would have taken you out for drinks much sooner than she did.

“Sweetheart, let’s go to bed.”

Your eyes lit up at her words and she practically choked on the sweet aroma of your arousal.

“Not like that - let’s just cuddle for tonight, okay?”

You nodded enthusiastically, and before Nesta could blink you had your dress slid off, the fabric now lying in a pool on the floor. You had bent over to undo the clasps on your heels, nearly falling over before Nesta set you on the bed, kneeling down to take off your heels for you.

She made the mistake of looking up, seeing you in nothing but your underwear, the scent of your arousal finding her nose once more.

Mothers tits, were you making this difficult on her.

She got your shoes off before standing up, and you watched with wide eyes as she pulled her top off before undoing the ties on her pants, pulling them down over her muscular thighs. 

You were practically drooling at her toned body, and as Nesta turned to find a nightgown, you grabbed her hand, quickly pulling her to you. She looked surprised as you wrapped your arms around her, slowly trying to wrap your legs around her too.

“No, Nes. Why cover up such a beautiful body?” Your words were hard to discern as you had gotten preoccupied with her breasts halfway through, but Nesta could fill in the gaps where your words were muffled.

“Because I can’t go about naked.”

“Why not? Who would complain?”

Your tongue began swirling her nipple through her bra, the lace fabric doing very little to protect her from you. She gasped as you nibbled and sucked on her nipple, hands rubbing her breasts, a deep desire for more.

“I would, because all of this is just for you, pet.”

She wanted to laugh as you squealed at her flirting before pulling her down on the bed, flipping the two of you so you were on top.

“So I am your little pet!”

Your squeals of delight were amusing to Nesta, until you settled your hips on her stomach and she could feel just how wet you were.

For her.

She swallowed hard as you kept kissing her neck, the alcohol still moving through Nesta’s system to leave her just lucid enough to know she had to stop this.

“I have something very important for you to do.”

You pulled your hands back, sitting up to look at Nesta, her hair splayed out on the pillows like a crown.

“Anything for you, Nes.”

Nesta’s brows shot up, her drunken mind filing that away for later.

“I want you to lay right here and go to sleep.”

She watched as your brain stopped working.

“But I wanna please you.”

With your words, you rubbed against her, the scent of your arousal making her head spin. Her fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to push past your panties and feel just how truly wet you were.

“And I want you to lay right on top of this bed and go to sleep.”

You leaned forward with a sigh, your head fitting into the crook of Nesta’s neck. Nesta could feel the vibrations from your groaning. 

But you listened to her. You didn’t say anything, your breaths deepening until Nesta was certain you were asleep.

Nesta laid awake that night, your body weight both a sense of comfort and a source of extreme anxiety. You were half naked on top of her, for cauldron’s sake. You slept soundly through the night, tiny snores eventually lulling Nesta into a peaceful sleep.

-

You woke up the next morning, pulling the comforter higher over your head as the sunlight peaked in through your windows. You groaned, nuzzling deeper into your pillow, stopping when you realized it was someone’s chest you were snuggling into.

You opened your eyes, a big, beautiful breast covered by the delicate lace of a purple bra filling your eyeline. Before looking up at whoever’s bed you had stumbled into, you took stock of your position. 

Underwear on, your leg was propped up on their hip, arms around their torso.

You definitely had been sleep cuddling.

You slowly turn your head, finding Nesta sleeping peacefully underneath you. 

“Good morning, pet.”

Well, you thought she had been sleeping. The previous night was hazy, the taste of alcohol filling your mouth at her words. Things were confusing, having a dream like haze to them.

“Morning Nesta.”

You laid frozen on top of her, wanting the shame of the previous night to keep you weighed down. What was a dream and what was reality? Had you spent the evening making out with Nesta? Did you take a shot off her breasts? 

You groaned, holding your head in your hands. Realization hit you, your head whipping too fast, a wave of nausea hitting.

“You called me pet.”

“You said you’d just love to be my little pet, doing whatever I wanted of you.” Her words were slow and mocking, drowned out by your groans.

“I don’t know what I was saying, obviously.”

Her hand crept up your side, fingers slowly gliding over your waist. The motion made you shiver, and Nesta laughed at it.

“So you were lying when you said you wanted to be my girlfriend, wanted me naked?”

Nesta’s hands kept exploring, now cupping your breasts. 

“No.”

She slowly crawled on top of you, her hips settling on top of yours.

“So what is it? Do you want me? Or no?”

You nodded. “Yes, I want you.”

That’s all it took for Nesta to flip the two of you as her lips met yours, her hips grinding down onto your stomach. It was slower than the kisses from last night - more tender, more deliberate.

The smell of her was everywhere - in the sheets, the room, off of her. You wanted to die in this moment, certain it couldn’t get better.

Until Nesta’s fingers snapped the band of your underwear, the zing on your skin slightly painful.

“Do I have to ply you with alcohol to get you naked again? Or are you going to take your underwear off?” You moaned at her words, enjoying this more dominant side to her. You quickly shimmied off your underwear and bra, throwing them off to the side. Nesta pulled back, her eyes wandering the slopes and planes of your body in appreciation. 

Nesta’s fingers began closing in on your breasts, pinching and teasing that made your back arch.

“Beautiful creature.”

Something took over you, some drunken braziness left behind. You held onto Nesta, flipping the two of you over so you were straddling her now. You shimmied down her body, your head resting on one of her thighs. Your fingers trailed up her thighs, lazily drawing patterns on her panty line.

“Nes, it’s not fair how pretty you are when you first wake up. Or how good you smell.” You nosed at her covered cunt, lightly sticking your tongue out. One of her legs hooked around your head, keeping you in place. Your tongue brushed over the fabric, a soft moan coming from above you.

Your mouth hovered directly over her cunt, the fabric the only thing separating you.

“Can I have a taste? It’s only fair. You denied me last night.”

“That’s because you were drunk.”

“So were you.” Your words were mumbled and Nesta felt the vibrations straight to her core. She needed you to just slide the fabric over an inch.

Her hips began grinding on your face in anticipation.

“Yes, but you’re quite a horny drunk.”

You pressed your nose into her, slowly gliding up and down, enjoying her reactions.

“No, I have less inhibitions when I’m drunk. I’m just more honest.”

 Nesta hummed, only half listening as your nose continued its movements, hitting just the right spot.

“The last time we went to Rita’s and you couldn’t make it, Emerie and Gwyn got me drunk so they could question me about you.”

Trying to string together a thought was difficult as your fingers played with her waistband. She had you exactly where she wanted, where she thought about you being for months. 

“That was ages ago.”

“And?”

“You never said anything.”

It was quiet as you laid still, your position so tantalizing to Nesta.

“Please. Touch me. Please.” It was all the confirmation you needed before sliding her underwear over and diving your tongue through her wet folds. Nesta fisted the sheets, the pleasure coursing through her body immeasurable. Time seemed to stop as you continued exploring, changing speed, your tongue’s direction, anything to keep her on edge. She tasted divine, nearly getting lost in your head at some deep need to pleasure her.

“Can I touch you?” Nesta’s question was quiet, a shyness you hadn’t expected from her.

You removed your head from her, your tongue slowly crept up her stomach, pressing kisses all over her.

“Of course.” You flipped your body around, legs now straddling Nesta’s face, your face right back at her core. You dropped your hips onto her face, laughing as she bucked her hips up into your mouth at the action.

“Do you like that?” You did it once more, slowly grinding your hips across her face. Your fingers moved through her folds, your head held up just enough to talk. “Or would you prefer to explore on your own?”

Nesta’s hands wrapped around your thighs, bringing you down to her. Her tongue glided across you, nearly making your own movements stop. She was hesitant at first, testing the waters.

Then she dove in, her tongue moving so quickly and expertly you nearly forgot where you were.

She was a fast and eager learner. 

“It tastes better than I imagined.”  

Nesta’s words were almost your undoing, her words just as delightful as her tongue. All you could do was reciprocate, trying to match every movement of her tongue with your own. She moaned into your core, heat pooling in your gut. 

“Come on, Nesta. Cum for me. Want to taste it.”

You pushed your hips down, nearly suffocating her, the action pushing Nesta over that precipice. 

She continued working on you, her fingers circling your clit sending you spiraling over the edge. You collapsed on her, knees giving out to bliss as you tried to catch your breath.

The two of you laid there, motionless, breathing deeply. Eventually you peeled yourself off of her, slowly crawling back up to her. Your arms wrapped around her, delighting in what this means for the two of you. You began stroking her hair, lightly shushing her as she came down from her high. 

“Wow.”

You chuckled, kissing her forehead. Breathing and thinking were laborious, but it felt so easy to lay in Nesta’s arms.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-angst @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl @quiet-loser @thegreyjoyed @paankhaleyaaar @acoazlove

[wolveria]

I work at a sustainability company, and they recently announced internally that they want to start using AI for some of the entry level positions. When rightfully asked by employees how they’re going to offset the massive usage of resources used to power AI, they didn’t have a good answer.

So, that’s how that’s going.

[couthbbg]

living in my tumblr-only sports fan bubble that I curated myself is so fun bc no one says a (genuinely) bad word about my guys and we all hold hands and think they’re beautiful and talented and will live forever <3

[mycological-mariner]

The terrible thing about being into Cornish history is that your historical blorbos don’t even have so much as an etching of what they looked like and also just are not well known At All. I’m just here with Cpt. James Quick’s letters like I’m gonna get emotional reading these again HUH

But also it sucks because his wife’s maiden name is an excellent pun and their first child was born prematurely (side note: while it’s very possible the kid was conceived out of wedlock because the dates are INSANE it doesn’t really matter in any event since they appear to have lived pretty happy lives after the fact), James himself joked about their combined names and the premature baby. Harriet Quick’s maiden name was Dunn. They’re son was Dunn-Quick.

[fateofflames]

Megumi was a good person. Yuji knew that by now. Even if he didn’t outright say he cared for others, Yuji could see it in his actions. Sure, Megumi could be a little quiet, maybe a bit hard to get close to, but Yuji didn’t mind one bit. It was worth the wait—worth it to see Megumi slowly open up to him. But at the same time, wasn’t that selfish?

Yuji was fated to die, wasn’t he? Maybe he just wanted to enjoy what little time he had left with someone he liked, someone he cared for. But wouldn’t that be cruel? To make Megumi go through that again—to lose him again?

Yuji tried not to dwell on such dark thoughts, not when he had no control over them. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to defeat Sukuna without dying. He knew it was unlikely—probably impossible—but he had to try. He might not have his grandpa anymore, but there were still people who cared about him. He couldn’t just give up. Even if he was destined to die, didn’t he at least deserve to enjoy life while he could?

Things had never been easy for him. Not since he could remember. But Yuji didn’t think he had a bad life. Even now, after everything—even after dying—he still felt like he’d lived a pretty good life so far. And seeing what his sorcerer friends had been through only made him more certain. He just hoped he could ease their burdens, even if only a little. It was naïve, wishful thinking, but Yuji was going to try his best anyway.

“Huh? Really? So you don’t talk to them much?” Yuji asked, tilting his head. “You seem close, though. I mean, everyone seems comfortable with each other, you know? Well—except maybe Kugisaki. But you know how she is.”

He chuckled, thinking over what little he had gathered about the others. They all seemed nice enough. Then again, Yuji usually got along with most people. He just hoped they liked him enough to tolerate him—at the very least, since they’d probably be working together here and there. Not that he minded. He was perfectly happy working with Megumi and Nobara. The two of them were more than enough. But if anyone else ever needed him, he wouldn’t hesitate to help.

Yuji snapped out of his thoughts when Megumi suddenly commented on the food. Yuji blinked, then felt heat rush to his face. He blushed at the unexpected compliment before breaking into a wide smile. Cooking had always been fun for him, but what really made it special was making others happy with his food. If people enjoyed what he made, that was enough to bring him joy. And Megumi enjoying it? That made him especially happy. He’d gladly cook for Megumi again. Anytime.

“I’m glad you like it,” Yuji said, grinning. “Cooking’s fun for me, and it’s even better when people enjoy it.”

As he hummed in contentment, excitement suddenly lit up his face when Megumi’s black dog appeared out of nowhere. Without hesitation, Yuji tried to feed it some of his food while stuffing his own face at the same time.

Nervous. Nervous. And what for? It was breakfast just like any other day. Just like the past fifteen years of his life. Except he wasn't eating old rice with his sister or hiding away in his room in order to avoid certain people. He was having a genuine home-cooked breakfast with a boy who held the fate of jujutsu in his hands. More importantly, it was a boy who meant more to Megumi than he ever thought possible. If Yuji was a normal boy, it wouldn't matter.

In fact it would probably be easier for the both of them if Yuji was a normal boy still living merrily and without the pressure of... death. Imagine Yuji going to regular school, out in his school uniform playing sports, and Megumi standing outside the gate watching him. It was... creepy but Megumi's intentions were wholesome. If the young boy could make a wish that would actually come true, it would be for Yuji to have a death and stress free life away from jujutsu and curses.

He could watch him from afar and maybe hope the two would bump into each other. It was worth it so see the boy happy. Though as it turned out Yuji cooking breakfast was happy. So it seemed on the surface level. Megumi was in a world of darkness and jujutsu wasn't sprung up on him so late in life. Yuji continued to radiate warmth and kindness even with a death sentence over his head.

It sickened Megumi. Sickened him that anyone could wish harm on such a heroic and wonderful human. Megumi should have started breakfast instead he was putting it all on Yuji despite it being offered, so Megumi just tried to look busy. He cut up fruit for them at the very least and when one pan or dish was dirty, promptly cleaned and dried it. All the while he looked at Yuji.

“ It's fine... ”

He dressed in a hurry that pink hair was still wet. He wanted to get a towel and dry his hair... lean in close and smell his shampoo and soap. Picturing drying Yuji's hair in such a domestic way, Megumi began rubbing his hands on the kitchen towel. After a few moments, he caught himself and stopped so embarrassed. When he was sure Yuji wasn't looking, he hit his own leg and got his head on straight. Two tall glasses of water were set at the table for them both and then Yuji's question caught his attention. He thought about it for a few seconds but really, there wasn't much to say.

“ Quiet. Panda-senpai was the most talkative otherwise it's really quiet. Some days I'd forget people lived here. ”

It was boring but boring was Megumi's normal. Tokyo's jujutsu school had a beautiful campus but it was a little sad how dead it was. A country full of curses and so few sorcerers to do anything about it. The loudest and liveliest thing at school was Gojo and Megumi already had enough of that growing up. He disliked the loud and the flashy, but he liked Yuji. He wasn't necessarily loud but he was bright.

There was no missing when Itadori was around and Megumi... loved it that way. When all the food was done, the solemn boy sat down and glanced at all the food. It was perfect for teenage boys. Boys who were trained killers. He picked up his utensils and took the first bite of fluffy eggs. He felt Yuji's eyes on him, so Megumi kept his green eyes down cast to his plate.

“ It's delicious.... ”

He meant it but he was too NERVOUS to look Yuji in the eyes. His stomach was also tight with nerves but he pushed through to eat. If he didn't, he feared offending his friend. It really was delicious. With a mouth full of food like a squirrel, Megumi summoned his last Divine Dog to ease the pressure and attention away from him. As soon as the black shikigami appeared, it sat with a wagging tail at the end of the table, eyes darting between them both.

“ Thank you, Itadori. ”

[weezerlvr228]

do u want me 2 kill that guy @ ur bfs party 4 u. guy sounds like literally the worst an I will have no issues doing it 4 u

thank you anon. i would love nothing more 💗

[thebestusernamepossible]

Listen, I love the LGBTQ+ community as much as any other queer person. But we have got to stop ostracizing people in our community to fit in with cishetallo people.

Some of y’all really do go ‘these are the acceptable boxes for queer people and their definitions, anyone outside of these is actually not queer and making us look bad’ and act like that’s ok. Now that being queer is generally acceptable in online/progressive areas (as long as you are one of the ‘well known’ orientations), a big part of the community has started regulating what’s ‘acceptable’ of a queer person and how we should fit into society.

I’ll see people hating on trans people who don’t fit into the ‘normal’ expectation of ‘Trans girl, Trans boy, or Non-binary’ or use Neo pronouns because that’s how they feel the most comfortable. I’ll see people hating on queer people who don’t like labels ( or try to assign people one even if they don’t want it). Or people who use a label in a way they don’t like (bi people who mostly date the opposite sex, lesbians who use pronouns other than just she/her, gender non-conforming people who don’t identify as trans, obscure micro-labels, etc.)

And it’s so frustrating because we as LGBTQ+ are supposed to be better!!! We are supposed to empathize with the feeling of not fitting in with regular society and help others like us! But the community has become part of the oppressive ‘societal standard’ for some people.

Some people just can’t be put into a perfect little label box and a lot of y’all aren’t cool about that. And I can’t believe I have to tell my fellow queers this, but there is nothing wrong with denying societal standards in order to live in the way that is genuine to you and makes you happy. End of story. If you disagree with that, look inward at your internal biases and try and fix that. Get rid of the cop in your brain telling you that you have to police others self-expression.

[willgrahamismybabygirl]

Vent post lol

Fighting for my life out here

(Afraid everyone who loves me will not care about me anymore once I transition, I’ll go from relatively pretty girl to ugly freak, I have no idea how to be future me)

[bloogers-boogers]

THIS. I’m glad you’re feeling more free to discover new things about yourself! It feels nice to have control of your own path without someone dragging you to theirs. I discovered a lot of things about myself that I never consider having, happening or experiencing when I decided to stop listening. However I’m lucky I was never forced to be religious I was lightly encouraged to follow one if I wanted to however I was never put in schools or forced to go to church. It was all willingly, there was a point in my life that I went leaping into different religions (to find some sorta place to belong to, to feel understood?) until I felt comfortable in one (christianity) but as much as I felt comfortable in the church I was at, I never felt connected to the words of the bible. Or the belief of a god. But they’re moments I do question it, from the religions I’ve been, there certain things I kept following without much of a care. Just cause it doesn’t hurt to believe in something if it gives a good message? Makes you do good. This is the idea I followed most of my life when it came to religion. I may have a hard time believing in whats shared from different beliefs but I do believe in good faith. I no longer follow a religion however if I’m asked I would simply answer that I haven’t been connected to god in a while. Im not saying I stopped believing but im also saying im not really interested in talking about it. But that doesn’t stop that I was surrounded by people with conservatives views and opinions that affected the way I thought as a child. A reason to why im also careful in how I say I don’t believe in religion, MAYBE a god, but not religion. They’re people who’ll force it to you with corrupted ideals,beliefs or whatever (like fucked up people) which entirely goes against the whole message of god. Who are we to judge someone based on their race, gender or sexuality. If god were real I doubt he’d care, he loves all his children. Base on the church i was at I was told you’re only ready to be forgiven if you’re ready to accept god into your heart. Nothing else. I wasn’t pushed to accept him, to be there or to follow a way some pastor declare were the right things to do. There was no rules but to respect others, be kind, and spread the word of god to anyone who needed it. Everyone was welcomed there. The moment they changed pastor I immediately felt a different vibe from the previous, I felt pressured to speak about the lessons we were being taught about and I didn’t like how he’d preached. I wasn’t comfortable. It felt forceful. Religion felt like a joke and god felt so far away from me. So I bailed, I was already distancing myself from that church because of other problems and this just made it easier for me to leave.

And now I just follow what my heart wants to believe! I believe in whatever the afterlife takes me to, in the meantime I enjoy what life offers me. Or at-least try to. The moment someone uses god as an excuse to be an asshole I cringe so hard because fuck no. Those are beliefs from man, not god.

So yeah, I don’t care if it’s a sin to obsess about fictional characters (nswf drawings, smut fics, sexualizing a character, fantasying about said character, etc), not following a religion, to explore myself, be queer! Have no idea what the hell am I in gender terms. Call me weird, tell me I’m going to hell! I don’t care, it won’t change how I think or see the world. I feel comfortable in how things are currently within my thoughts of faith. That’s what matters.

I’m happy that you’re in better more comfortable place ❤️ sorry for the long ranting! I didn’t think I’d fall back into talking about my religion problem

Adamsapple has made more comfortable in exploring sex topics, be more comfortable in my body (explore it further), being more open to showing off some of my skin, not feeling ashamed in feeling sexy or wanting to, but also like made me more comfortable in drawing sex. Something I thought I’d never stop feeling ashamed or embarrassed on doing. If this ship has damaged my brain it also damaged my insecurities and conservative beliefs taught as a child that have only brought me unhappiness, shame and anxiety. I love you Lucifer and Adam 🥺❤️

[miss-morland]

i hope your partner isn’t more than a year older than you jeez together with the same person for 9 years as a 26 year old? you deserved to be in the club….

1) none of those facts is correct (at time of sending, i just turned 26 today) so i’m assuming this was to the wrong blog

2) we go to the club together

[favroitecrime]

twitter whacking that “i want it all” performance with kourtney and carlos & saying seb should’ve been ryan… maybe i don’t hate twitter

[cherrysnax]

@ anon sorry I accidentally deleted ur ask!! to answer ur question though, I think it’s a bad idea because.. i fear rejection i guess and I suppose what I fear more is the opposite

[sungtaro]

I love cooking for my sibling bc they give the most like . unusual but meaningful compliments