#also this experience happened while i was texting friend i have feelings for . its a sign

[unganseylike]

briefly fell in love w a farmers market man. after i left, i was sitting on a bench enjoying an empanada i bought when some random dude starts talking to me and asks me out. im like sorry youre not dream farmers market man. and you disrupted my peaceful empanada time.

[arlertwhore]

draft #1: sneaky link series, pt. 7

completed draft - not a part, a draft - meaning there is technically no pt 7. i have no issues with people taking it as pt 7though.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! “sneaky link” reader.

warning(s): angsty, argument / breakup, fluff, smut, scissoring, pussy eating, fingering, spitting, hair-pulling, unedited.

synopsis: Despite your admission of feelings, Paige still wants to keep you as her secret. However, as the threat of discovery looms and you grow close with someone else, she jealously realizes she doesn't want anyone to think you don't belong to her. Even if you remain a secret, you are undeniably hers.

word count: 7.1k (what happens when ana's creativity fights to not fight)

Author Note: first ever draft i'm dropping AH! i'm so weirded out that i'm leaving this series unfinished (for now) and posting something this trash, but i think its what best for me. like i said, this isn't an official pt . 7, it's just a draft, but i have no issue if i get an inbox we can talk about like its an off pt 7 yk?? you guys are also so free to leave ideas for pt. 8 and 7 in my dms, inbox, etc.. so if i return i can get back into the groove!

Paige, after a week of ghosting, suddenly texts: "Good News", and despite being frustrated with her, you're desperate for a study break in studying for your last exam of the year and some positivity, so you quickly respond: "?"

She tells you her old friend from Minnesota, Serena, is in town for the week at a hotel while her soccer team plays Connecticut, and she's allowing Paige to use the hotel room while she's away due to her losing a bet.

You respond with a terse "Cool", and Paige's response hangs in the air, marked by those ominous three dots. After an agonizing pause, her next text arrives: "See you by tomorrow night?"

And although you're betraying every emotion you've had at the frustration of paige ghosting you the whole week, you say, "yeah."

You felt like a total idiot for believing that perhaps now that she'd confessed, Paige would stop running from it. You should've been wiser, given your history with Paige, but the thrilling days that followed your vulnerable confession of feelings deceived you. They were a dizzying whirlwind of happiness, lulling you into a false sense of security, and masking the reality of her true intentions.

You and Paige had a fast romance, resembling a newlywed couple's bliss. You strolled hand-in-hand through the neighborhood, enjoyed family movie nights, and explored the mall together. She even surprised you with intimate gifts, like delicate lingerie, which she eagerly removed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those days were filled with laughter, love, and a sense of security, free from the fear of rejection that once plagued you. Your connection deepened so much that Paige even let you take her with her strap, a thrilling milestone in your relationship.

The experience was magical, but as the school week began, reality hit hard, and Paige, as she always did, resumed the cycle. She seemed to have perfected the art of creating distance. Her texts became short and infrequent, she stopped answering your calls, and just ghosted you.

You were crushed: you made it clear on the week she did ghost you that you hated when she did that, and the fact she ignored your pleas and chose to cowardly avoid everything was heartbreaking. But at least you had your new roommate, Maggie, to distract you. After growing up with a wayward sister, Maggie was your first taste of what a healthy sibling relationship could be like. She was everything you weren’t—energetic, popular, outgoing, and the life of every party—your polar opposite, and her presence brought a refreshing contrast to your life.

She filled your evenings with wild stories of campus drama and an endless supply of party interesting anecdotes. And also, piping hot gossip that you were more than amused by until one night, when Maggie stumbled into your room back from a party, reeking of alcohol and giggling uncontrollably.

"Paige Bueckers, aka Ms. Hollywood, is allegedly hooking up with some mysterious girl on campus who claims to be straight."

Your heart skipped a beat: you had never claimed to straight before. 

And also, both of your entire life's focus had been on your careers, and this rumor had potentially to be extremely damaging to your professional prospects. Especially for you — you had worked tirelessly to build a respectable image, and the thought of being linked to Paige's scandalous behavior was daunting.

You played it cool, dismissing the rumor with a nonchalant laugh: "Oh, really? People say crazy things." But inside, you were turmoil-stricken, unable to reveal the truth to Maggie due to Paige's strict secrecy and dislike of her for being a blabbermouth.

Maggie shrugged, "Well, Paige is in trouble; social media's onto her, and they're searching for her mystery girl. Apparently, they even go clubbing together." Your heart sank, knowing this was all too true. As exams approached, you pushed aside the rumors and pretended to be too busy to care, all while secretly suffering in silence, worried about the potential fallout on your career.

So, when you pulled up to "Serena's" hotel the next day, really Paige's place, you were exhausted, beaten down by her behavior, the looming rumors, and the fact that you had probably bombed your exam that night. You couldn't have been acting more out of character, bursting through the hotel door and pushing past Paige, who stood awaiting your acknowledgment in the foyer.

"Is there anything to drink? Maggie drank every last drop of alcohol in the house." you called out, voice laced with desperation and a hint of frustration, as if the scarcity of alcohol was the final straw in a long series of disappointments.

"Me?" she whispered softly as she crept up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around your waist with a gentle kiss to your neck. "Or Rose. In the fridge. You're lucky S I'm sharin'; S got it for us tonight." The warmth of her embrace and the sweetness of her kiss sent a buzz down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the fact she was everything wrong these days too.

"Oh, is that why you've been ignoring me? For Rose, Serena —because Paige, if we're being honest," you said, pulling away from her and striding over to the fridge to grab the coveted bottle, "I don't like sharing either."

There's a tense and awkward momentary silence as you stretch to reach the glass from up-top the shelf, and Paige approaches, her hand resting on your lower back, and her breath on your scalp. "We've both been busy - I'm not ignoring you, alright?" she says in a low, defensive murmur, her gentle touch sparking a flutter in your chest, making it hard to maintain your frustration.

Together, you manage to retrieve the glasses, but her gentle gesture  has already disarmed you, and the tension between you shifts, your  defenses slowly dropping, a fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her.

"I miss you even when we're together." you admit, looking up at her with a vulnerable gaze, your eyes locking onto hers as you bare your soul, the weight of your words conveying the constant fear of losing her, the ache of knowing that external pressures and expectations can tear you apart at any moment, and the desperation to hold on to her, even when she's right in front of you.

"I've had the worst fucking week, and- I spent most of my time in bed and not studying, thinking about why I could make you confess, but not... not stay with me." The pain in your voice as you reveal the turmoil that's been consuming you, and the desperate desire for her presence in your life is felt mutually.

"Okay," you whisper shakily, feeling tears prick at the way Paige looks at you, mutually, like she feels the same, but where you can see her resistance up still. And you know you'll never win. You have to stop thinking you can.

"I'll drink my feelings away, and then we're gonna fuck to get it off my mind, and we're never gonna bring this up again." your voice cracks as you surrender to the defeat, seeking temporary escape. 

You pour the rose in both your glasses, and Paige stands back watching, knowing that this is exactly what's happening. She's suppressing her inner fear and has no choice but to acquiesce, and not say anything because she told you her rules at the beginning, and fears if she says anything, it'll be from her heart because it hurts her as much as it hurts you.

She's trapped in her own emotions, unable to express her true feelings, and resigned to silently follow the script you've both agreed upon.

"Cheers," you say, raising your glass, and she looks confused, but reluctantly clinks your glasses together and watches through a slow sip as you down it and then pour yourself some more. The alcohol burns your throat, but you welcome the numbness, trying to dull the ache in your chest.

Paige's gaze lingers, melancholy, but more neutral, as she silently acknowledges the change in you, trying to read to lightheartedly conversate. 

"I see Maggie's introduced you to the lifestyle. You guys still getting close?'' her voice is subtly clad with a hint of detachment, an attempt to shift the focus away from the tension between you, and onto a more casual topic, but her underlying concern and curiosity are both still evident.

You nod, your eyes focalled on the alchol in your glass. "Yeah, she- we're thinking of doing a double date thing and I was gonna ask you before - y'know, but I guess it's pointless even though she already kinda knows."

You mention the fact - y'know - that you guys just suffered a breakup without even being together in a very odd manner, and that that is the weirdest thing ever. Well, to Paige, the second strangest thing of the night - the third is that how you broached the subject courageously in the first place, and the first: "Maggie knows?" she repeats, "Did you tell her?" a slight accusatory tone to her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sets her glass down, her gaze fixed intently on yours, as if searching for any sign of betrayal or deceit.

"Everything." you whisper, jokingly confessing and shaking your head at her ridiculous pissed face (that's also sorta hot). 

Paige glares back at you, serious and you furrow your brows, feeling the alcohol hitting you already. "Shit, what do they put in here?" you ask, checking the label for the alcohol volume, when Paige snatches it out of your reach and demands, "I'm serious, Y/N, what'd you-" 

"Nothing!" you interrupt, exploding, "Nothing, Paige, there is fucking nothing to tell Maggie because all of this," you notion back and forth between you two, face-to-face, "Is nothing! What would I tell her, huh? That you don't text me for days on end and shit like that?" Your words spill out in a frenzy, the alcohol fueling your emotional release in the opposite sense you wanted it to.

Paige hates how that's supposed to comfort her, but instead makes her feel belittled and trivialized as she processes, now reaching for her own glass to forget about what you just told her - that you guys are "nothing." The word stings, a harsh reminder of the boundaries she's set, and the apparent insignificance of their connection in your eyes. She takes a swig, the rose souring her throat, as she struggles to reconcile the conflicting emotions within her.

Pretty soon, because you guys are weird and perfect for each-other, you're in bed and dealing with your conflicting emotions in a thoroughly unproductive way.

Paige kisses down your neck, hands roaming over you with a fervor in her eyes like she had the day at the bar, but now, times ten, and mixed in with something new. As she's stripping off your pants and kissing down your legs, she's still doing that thing where she murmurs vague stuff she knows she can deny if you try to confront her later. "So pretty, baby," she whispers, spreading your legs apart and kissing your calf, "My pretty baby." If not for the desire you have to get fucked out of your own brain, you would probably tell Paige to stop entirely or just stop saying that, but you can't, especially because it at least feels good to pretend that all just didn't happen.

By now, you've had plenty of rose, a lot more than Paige has, and under the spell of alcohol, every sensation she evokes in you feels better than the last. The room spins, and your senses blur, but Paige's touch is the one thing that feels lucid, the one thing that makes sense in this haze of emotions and alcohol.

Before Paige can put her mouth to use on you, the bedroom door is bursted open, and the once muffled call of her name that you're too tipsy to register becomes audible. "Paige! Bro, practice is cancelled, let's go-" she suddenly crashes in, who you can only assume is Serena, and walks in on the compromising sight and exclaims, "Oh shit!" standing there in awe as Paige scrambles for your clothes to cover yourself, furious, "Get out!"

She storms, jumps out of bed and slams the door in her face. The sudden movement makes your head spin, and you wince, the loudness reeling in your head from the alcohol and the abrupt interruption.

When Paige sees you lying still, eyes shut in what looks like anguish, she rushes over to you, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, she's- she's obviously not supposed to be here as you just heard and-" - "It's fine." you interrupt, gathering your clothes hastily and getting out of bed. Once again, Paige has let you down, and it annoys the both of you equally. "Call me," you say, your tone indifferent, "Or don't."

You go to open the door and rush away before Paige can stop you, but Serena awaits on the other side, and you pause, dissecting her.

You were going to be jealous over this girl until you realize she's like Paige, just a little less tall, a lot less blonde, and skinnier. She isn't her type and she's masculine too, to your delight, and not because of Paige and her not being compatible, but at the fact its your type.

"Sorry," she says cheekily, "I thought she was here to take a break from the team." 

Serena smirks, amused. "I mean, I guess she was." and her eyes linger at the hickey on your neck. The implication is clear, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you try to brush it off, the alcohol still clouding your judgment.

"Y/N," you laugh, smiling, "I'm sorry, I- I drank all your rose tonight, and you just saw me kind of naked, so probably not a great way to start things off." you chuckle, trying to play off the awkwardness,  and she smiles, exposing pearly whites, and seeming to appreciate your honesty and humor.

"Oh trust me, I couldn't mind less." and you can't figure out which way she means it before she continues again, "But... if you had too much rose, I don't just wanna send you driving home with a stranger. And better yet,  by yourself. You're welcome to stay the night if you want to." her tone is genuine, and you hesitate for a moment, weighing your options, before nodding in agreement, grateful for her kindness.

Paige is forced to watch her Serena clearly court you over the night, dressing you in her oversized t-shirt and shorts, and giving you some cold water as you guys converse on the couch in the living room. She does need time to herself after the alcohol begins to wear off and she begins to think about the consequences of her actions, the weight of her emotions, and the reality of her situation with you, but she can't do that logically while hearing you giggle and laugh at everything Serena says.

When she emerges from the bedroom, realizing she can get a rise out of Serena too, you both glance at her like she's intruding once she plops down at the couch in the living room.  Serena laughs. "Yo, are you- you staying here tonight?" she asks, her tone playful, but also hinting at a sense of not wanting Paige too, as if she's making her rethink her choice, and maybe even staking a claim on you, much to Paige's dismay.

"Well, yeah, that's the plan for the week, S," she says, eyes darting between you two, "Unless you guys want the house all to yourselves." Paige's tone is laced with a hint of sarcasm and a dash of curiosity, as if she's testing the waters, gauging the dynamics between you and Serena, and perhaps even hoping to stir up a reaction from one or both of you.

"Maybe we do," you say, leaning back on your couch, and Serena smirks, Paige rolling her eyes. 

"Well, yeah, we're learning lots about each-other. She's a huge soccer fan, and I'm a soccer player." 

Paige scoffs, shaking her head and laughing, "You hate sports. You're a nerd, what do you mean you're a-" - "I am." you interject, "You just don't care enough to know that." you shoot back, Paige's expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if she can't fathom you pretending to be something you're not.

Serena glances at between you both, intrigued, and curious. "So, uhh...before I ask what I do, what are you guys?" she asks as if she's navigating a sensitive topic, and her eyes dart between you and Paige, seeking clarification on your relationship status.

"It's complicated," and "Nothing," you both say in simultaneously, and when Paige's eyes narrow and she falls silent, you learn that the word "nothing" triggers her. The air is thick with tension, and Serena's eyes widen, sensing the underlying dynamics at play.

"Nothing?" she raises an eyebrow at Paige. She pauses. "Uhh... well on that case, why don't all three of us go get dinner tomorrow? Paige can bring somebody!" she suggests, hoping by the proposal, it will soften the blow of tension. 

"And... And so can you, even though I'd prefer if you don't." You smile warmly at her attempt to flirt, and also, keep things equal. "What about my friend Maggie Bowman? She's practically my sister, I think you'll love her. She plays soccer too." You offer, trying to lighten the mood and include Maggie, finally, in your real life.

Paige realizes thats how you must've been able to keep up a sports conversation for so long. "Maggie? I mean, c'mon, I-" "I'd love that!" Serena exclaims, "Who're you bringin' Paige? Maybe another hot model girl?" she teases, referencing you, who does that stupid giggle again and it takes Paige all her might not to lash out as she calmly responds, "I don't know, Azzi maybe." 

Serena nods. "That'd work." and Paige grimaces at the fact she'd try for her best-friend too.

The rest of the night is a blur and you come down from the alcohol, all eventually falling asleep on the couches, yet you awaken in bed, next to Paige, like you had become used to as of a week ago. The familiarity of her presence, the scent of her skin, and the warmth of her body engulfing yours stir up a mix of emotions, from comfort to guilt, as you try to process the events of the previous night and the current state of your relationship.

Your body may crave the comfort of her closeness, but your mind knows that giving in to these desires will only lead to more heartache and confusion in the end, so you nudge her. "Off, Paige." you whisper, your voice gentle but firm, trying to extricate yourself from her embrace without hurting her feelings, and subsequently yours.

"Hmm?" she murmurs from sleep, groggily, "No, stay," she slurs, her voice laced with a hint of desperation, as she tightens her hold on you. She has a bad sleeptalking habit, one that you've struggled with in the past to understand if she's just stupid and asleep or genuine.

It's both. And it also seems like old patterns are dying hard. You force yourself up, you exit her arms, and book an Uber back to your house, where Maggie is waiting at the doorstep with coffee. "Where were you all night? Gosh, I was worried sick, I called everybody you knew. Fuck, your friends are dicks." She scolds, her expression a mix of relief and annoyance, as she hands you a steaming cup of coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your disheveled appearance.

"Serena's house," you reply, "This friend of mine. She's in for the week while her Soccer team plays Connecticut." 

Maggie's eyes widen. "What? Like The Minnesota Stars playing Connecticut this week? As in the Serena Davis?" She asks, her voice laced with excitement and disbelief, as if she can't quite wrap her head around the fact that you spent the night at the hotel of a famous soccer player.

"I think," you smile, glancing down at your clothes, "I didn't catch her last name, but these are all hers. She's sweet." Maggie's jaw drops, her eyes bulging in utter shock, before she lets out a squeal of excitement, jumping up and down like a teenager at a rock concert. "OH. MY. GOD! You're a groupie! You're a total groupie!" she accuses, laughing and teasing, her hands on her hips. You nod, playing along, "Would this groupie still be one if she was inviting you to dinner with Serena? And Paige Bueckers? And maybe Azzi Fudd?" You ask, grinning mischievously, as Maggie continues to freak out, still in disbelief.

Up until 8:00, the confirmed meetup time, is when Maggie energizes.

She talks endlessly about how you're basically living a double life, how you're "rubbing shoulders with soccer royalty", and asks you what it's like to be with Serena, her questions ranging from serious to absurd. On the drive to the restaurant, you have to lecture Maggie on proper etiquette, reminding her to behave herself, not to fan-girl too hard, and to please, for the love of all things good, not ask Serena for a jersey or autograph.

"Just be chill," you advise, shaking your head in amusement as you walk into the restaurant together. You can feel Maggie's excitement radiating like a force, and you know she's struggling to contain her inner fan-girl. You shoot her a warning glance, silently reminding her to play it cool, as you spot Serena, Paige, and Azzi waiting for you at a table, Serena looking radiant and entirely too comfortable in her celebrity skin.

You underestimate just how famous the girls are, especially Serena, but when even your waiter is a little starstruck to see the three of them, telling them each she's seen them in sports, you realize that you're dining with genuine sports royalty.

You each spend the dinner laughing. Maggie and Azzi talk for some time, both self-proclaimed party-girls with mutual friends, and Paige, you, and Serena—mainly Paige and Serena—do their own thing up until you guys have finished eating and chatting, at which point Serena pays the bill with a flourish, her celebrity status evident in the discreet yet deferential service you received all evening. As you prepare to leave, the waiter lingers, still starstruck, and Serena, Paige, and Azzi graciously autograph a napkin for her before you exit.

The night ends with Maggie inviting you all to a party that you and Paige decline, however, Serena opts to go. "Might as well make the most of it while I'm in town." she says with a grin, "But... if you wanna stay at the hotel, Y/N, we'll all see you guys tonight." She winks, eyes sparkling as she ganders at you hungrily.

Azzi, the only person besides you and Paige who knows your history, a member of the "Paige needs to stay focused" club, and also her best-friend knows exactly what'll happen if you guys are left alone together, and once you say, "I think I will, S," Azzi is quick to interject, "Sure you BOTH don't wanna join us? I mean, Y/N, I remember the first time I met you. At a party." she teases you playfully, coaxing a smile out of you.

"And you remember how I embarrassed myself, Azzi?" you ask, laughing. "How could I forget?" the girl chuckles, "I wanna hear this story tonight," Maggie chimes in, and Serena agrees, "Me too." before Azzi just sighs, knowing there's nothing further she can do, and relents with a playful warning. "Just don't get too distracted, you two. We'll see you tonight."

You don't think you'll get distracted as they disappear into the distance, waiting for their Uber, and you and Paige head towards your car, walking down the street together in silence. The only sounds are the crickets chirping and the occasional passing car, but the air is thick with an underlying tension between you and Paige until you speak up.

"Can you drive? I'm too tired, I wanna take a nap." you ask Paige, tossing her your keys. She catches the keys with a hesitant smile, her eyes searching yours for a moment before she nods. "You done being mad at me?" she asks, her voice soft, playful, and a little vulnerable, like she's feeling her way through the moment, trying to gauge if the chill between you has started to return.

"I was never mad at you," you say with a shrug, avoiding her eyes and sounding utterly nonchalant. "I was mad at myself." Your tone is detached, like you're dismissing the whole thing, and your gaze drifts away from hers, leaving a sense of distance between you.

She decides not to go there with you. "So, Maggie's actually chill," she says, changing the subject, her tone light and conversational. "It's kinda weird it's all falling into place now even though we're not, y'know, 'friends' anymore." her words hang in the air, not probing or accusing, just stating a fact.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs, continuing, "Well, Azzi just accepted the fact I'm staying at a hotel with you, which means they all will because she's my best friend. I like Maggie. You like Azzi. And the net is catching on."

You chuckle, amused, and she smiles, playfully teasing. You can't help but think that if you two were still close, she wouldn't be so nonchalant about this situation. It's as if she's only comfortable with this all coming to you both at once because you're no longer under her control.

The thought crosses your mind that sometimes, it takes losing something to realize its value, and you wonder if she's come to appreciate you only now that you're no longer there. You have to remind her you aren't, because with the way her eyes scan your body, your dress, her favorite color on you, black, accentuating your shape perfectly before she licks her lips, adjusting her gray Nike tech, its obvious.

"I do have to say, I like Serena. How come you never mentioned this 'friend' of yours was hot and also really talented?" you laugh, a low throaty sound, and raise a waggling eyebrow that makes Paige herself chuckle smally.

With her laughter, her inability to go there with you ever, you don't expect it at all when she looks you straight in the eye, and boldly smiles, "No you don't. You like me? Remember? Back at your parents' at the park?" there's a dash of challenge to her tone, as if daring you to admit the truth, her eyes sparkling with a knowing glint that makes your heart race.

And just like that, you fall back in.

You slip up in your words. "The car's here, Paige," but you swallow the last part, jumbling it into, "C'mere Paige," instead of repeating what you had actually meant to say. Your voice is struck with want, your brain foggy with the familiar haze of passion, as you pull her closer, your hands roaming over her body like they used to, like no time has passed at all.

Within seconds, you're inside of your car, making out with Paige as her big hands grasp your hips, and you can't at all believe yourself one bit — that you're doing it again — that Azzi was right — and letting her fuck her way back into your life again, but you did have unfinished business.

And plus, now, with it all out of the way — you didn't mind just being casual, your resistance crumbling like dust as her lips devour yours, the familiar spark between you, consuming all rational thought.

"Fuck, I-... I never wanna see you like that again, do you hear me?" she growls again, staring intensely with her hand gripping your tits, spilling out the top of your dress. "Never," she repeats firmly and pulls you back in roughly by your ass, making you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you fiercely, tongue claiming yours.

Luckily for you guys, the deserted streets are quiet and your windows have a tint. It would be a shame for anybody to witness how Paige pulls you over her lap in the driver's seat, pulling your dress down and popping your tit into her mouth, sucking on you with hungry groans, tongue flicking against your nipple as she murmurs, "You like that?"

It's obvious in the way your body responds to hers, hips bucking against her thigh, and how you moan, "Y-Yes, shit." She holds your hips firmly, guiding you back and forth sensually, and due to how wet you are, she can feel you soak her knee through her sweatpants. She softly whispers into your ear, "No panties, huh? Of course, such a slut," and she grabs your hair, forcing your head to tilt back as she suckles on your neck. "Let me show Serena who you belong to."

Those times you knew Paige would flat out ignore you or deny it when you brought up her possessiveness and control during sex, were far behind you because you knew she couldn't now, and it was clear she didn't want to, and it was the hottest thing ever.

Her passion and intensity were undeniable, and you were swept up in the fervor of the moment, loving every second of her unbridled desire.

Once she's done doing that, you can't take it. "Wait, I-.. home Paige home, it's too tight in here." Your voice is laced with desperation, pleading with her to stop or to slow down, but your words are overtaken by her intense kisses, your body betraying your mind as you succumb to her fervent touch, the confines of the car suffocating you.

You don't know how you guys even manage getting home: the want is that much. You have so much need in your body that you do the most reckless thing ever known to mankind. As Paige slams on the accelerator, you spread your legs and slip your fingers down between your thighs, rubbing on your clit, in your wetness that makes the lewdest sounds ever, second to when you moan her name breathlessly. "Paigeee, fuck…! Wish this was you, P, mmph, gosh."

She tries not to glance and she tries not to react, but when you extend your arm and put your hand right across her lap, fucking your own fingers into you with wet noises and desperate whimpers before you give her a taste of it, it's like she's possessed.

You're rushing through the hotel to get back to the room, and in the elevator, more kissing continues, but at the door, you guys tap in and are making out furiously, for what feels like hours, hotly, both stepping out of your clothes in the corridor.

Your hands are all over each other once you crash in, rekindling the passion that never quite faded as you stumble into the room, locked in a embrace that's hard to break.

You unzip Paige's sweater and remove her Nike tech pants and are upset to find the truth about layering being true now of all times -- underneath, she has a black sports bra and blue basketball shorts.

You drop to your knees, sliding them down her legs, and your mouth is on her cunt in a flash. She's insanely wet—probably the wettest you've ever had her before in all your years of fucking.

"Do I have to be standing for this?" she asks through gritted teeth, and you realize that she's complimenting your head game like that, and smile, smirking as you look up at her and delving into her pussy with a strong flick of your tongue against her clit a couple of times, moaning hungrily.

The teasing gets her weak, her knees buckling.

Your words, your touch, your gaze—all of it has her surrendering, her defenses disappearing as she gives in to the tension that's been building between you two.

It's been ages since you've gotten to do this—melt Paige on your tongue, and she tastes like heaven, and sounds like it too. When you focus on her clit, parting her folds with your fingers to angle your tongue and flick at it, she whimpers.

Your touch is so, so perfect it doesn't even feel real, and though none of it does, Paige can't help but savor the moment. She gazes down at your face, looking deep into your eyes as she grinds her hips against you, in a frenzy riding your face as she moans loudly.

"Fuck, you're so good," she groans, pulling you back up by your hair and onto your feet, eyes blazing. "Tell me you wouldn't do this for Serena. For any other girl," she demands, tugging your hair in a way that turns you on intensely as you murmur, "Just you. Always only you." And she's relentless, spitting into your mouth, her saliva thick and warm, before she pushes your face back into her cunt, making everything a wet mess through the singular action.

You pull back and marvel at her pink folds. "So beautiful," you whisper against her cunt, entranced with desire and by the way her pussy glistens and gleams, sparkles, and you suckle her clit like a connoisseur.

The signs she's going to climax emerge: her eyes shut tightly, her abs contract repeatedly, and her face turns red and redder by the moment as you work your jaw faster, slipping your finger up into her entrance, but she stops you with a yank of your head backwards.

"Seriously, I'll fall over if we—c'mon, let's go to the bed." she pants.

This time, Paige remembers to lock the door behind her before she slips in between your legs, dangling her chain enticingly in your face. "Still wet?" she softly and earnestly inquires, and you chuckle at her ridiculous charm. "Yeah, of course."

She kisses you deeply, hands roaming eagerly. "Lemme check," she whispers, and then she slides up your dress, exhaling in awe at the sight because you're genuinely dripping.

"So fuckin' perfect, fuck," her warm breath against your stomach gives you chills, and you twitch slightly in her embrace, prompting her hand to fly to your hipbone, anchoring you with a desperate gaze, afraid you might slip away. "N-no," she stammers, her voice trembling, "No, just... just stay like this, just like this."  With lustfully hazy eyes, she closes them as she nuzzles her nose against your clit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. "Ah, Paige-!" you yelp, and she's quick to hush you.

"Shhh, angel, please," she whispers, her eyes meeting yours fleetingly. "Please," she repeats, more firmly this time, before her tongue teases at your clit carefully - like she just wants a small taste.

The shamelessness in her begging — begging for you to be complicit with her, coupled with her mouth, it all makes your head spin.

When you nod, silently giving into her, you watch as she indulges in you, moaning at the faint taste of you on her tongue before she withdraws. "You taste amazing," she mumbles, "Just for me."

Your eyebrows furrow at her words, arousing you further, soaking you thoroughly and making you squirm once more, much to her dismay. "Stay still," she instructs firmly, pausing. "Stay still or you won't get anything out of this… I could do this all night, I promise you."

It took you back to when you first met Paige and she told you the exact same thing. You didn't believe her at first, and then she ended up not letting you cum for half an hour, her fingers inside you changing with every stroke, LITERALLY keeping you on edge.

Your hands laced into her hair, and you tugged lightly. "'s what you get, you bitch… so fuckin' mean to me," you teased, knowing exactly how to get her where you needed her, just like she'd gotten you to where she needed you for what you were about to do. "Serena'd be fucking me good by now. She almost did last night before you came out on the couch."

That was true. You weren't just saying it, and you both knew it. That was true.

"Is that so?"

In moments, you were now both naked, her hands gripping your ass and tits eagerly. Her kisses were urgent and messy as she undressed you, her lips assaulting your neck with hungry fervor. "I'm going to fuck that out of you," she declared, her voice filled with need, her breath heating your skin. "I can't get enough of you."

"Do it."

Paige complied, her hands gently kneading your breasts as she positioned herself between your legs. You gasped softly as she settled against you, the heat of her body melding with yours as she aligned your cunts precisely. The room seemed to fade away as you focused on the exquisite friction between you, the heat intensifying as Paige hooked her leg around your thigh in a sense, drawing you closer with each movement. Her voice was a whisper against your calf, filled with need as she questioned, "Feel my clit, baby? Feel how wet I am for you?"

You whine, overwhelmed. "You're so wet, P, fuck." She had your leg bent back towards your head, her slick heat gliding against yours as she moved forward, inhaling sharply at the exquisite friction between you.

She smirked down at you. "Fuck, you're my slut, baby," she moaned, pupils dilated as she arched her back, pressing her body closer to yours.

With each powerful thrust of her hips, you could see the subtle flexing and rippling of muscles beneath her skin, a testament to her arousal. Her voice was heavy with desire as she lifted your leg higher, craving deeper access. "Fuck me back, baby, come on. Just like that." the last part a near whine as you appeased, meeting her every grind with a fervent thrust of your hips.

"God, you're so wet," she whimpered, biting onto her bottom lip to stifle her moans, "Fucking dripping, aw.. shittt." in the break, she's panting, breathing fast breaths into your ear, and then it falls silent.

The sound that fills the air between you two once it does was raw— carnal. It had grown louder as you complied, truly fucking her back, your clits sliding against each other frenziedly, eliciting a wet sound that mingled with the rhythmic clapping of your skin. Unable to stifle it, a sigh of satisfaction escaped you, breaking the silence. "So deep, Paige," you grunted softly, reaching up to fondle her firm tits, her eyes fluttering shut as she quickened her pace, urging you to keep up.

"Don't… do not fucking stop," your voice cracked with pleasure, urgent and needy without care. "Then fuckin', ohh," testing her resolve, you pinch her nipples mid-sentence, and they perk up, practically begging to be sucked. Her voice trembles so invitingly that your mouth waters.

"Then fuckin' keep up with me, ma. You can do it, angel," she encouraged, brushing your hair from your face just to look you with her glossy from determination, and then she's crying out, "Fuckk, yes!" as her hips buck against yours snugly. You're just about to ask what has her so riled up when you feel it— her nails digging into your skin at the sensation of your clit, rubbing hard against hers and pulsating, driving her insane and making her lose control. It makes you shake with pleasure. It was all just perfect — Paige never fucked you like this often just because in her own words, she didn't like sounding like a bitch.

Moaning like a girl. And... she always warned that she couldn't hold back when it came to your pussy. She'd always lose control if she took you like this, and she knew you secretly liked it when she did.

It was hot watching her internally battle the side of herself that wanted to hold the power and the side that wanted to fuck you stupid and give you all her cum.

Nevertheless, she's spilling more arousal from her hole into the mix, and the glide just gets smoother and smoother, like water on water.

You push your hips up harder, grunting with each forceful thrust, and Paige sounds like she's exerting herself at the gym, groaning gruffly as she fucks you relentlessly, babbling about how badly she wants you to cum in her.

"You do? You want it?" you tease, and she's quick to nod her head vigorously, hair flying free from its bun as she moves. "Mhm," spitting down between you both and pleading, "I want your cum so badly, baby, please give it to me, please let me have it, please make me- make me cum, shit you're gonna-"

Her eyes squeezed shut and she moaned deeply, hips bucking, signaling her impending climax. "Look at me," you urged, "Look at me, Paige, I want to cum, I want to give it to you, look at me."

When she forces her eyes open, glistening with tears, she freezes on the spot at the sight of your tits bouncing and clapping together rhythmically, the way you bite your bottom lip, and how desperate you sound once you climax at the exact same time as her, calling out her name hoarsely. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, Paige, oh—! Oh fuckkk, yes!"

She's whining and crying out listlessly as she collapses over your body, muscles contracting as she spills onto you, and with each slow movement, her cunt feels like glue against yours, so much so that you tremble.

Your skin sticks to each other, a mixture of sweat and arousal making it feel almost impossible to separate, and before you can offer to clean her up again like you so desperately want to — to finish what you started earlier and have her cum on your tongue, a firm knock is heard on your door.

"Guys?!" shouts Maggie, "What the fuck are you doing in there?"

Paige is so thoroughly fucked out that she can't move or speak or react, even though her worst fear has come true, and Maggie knows.

You shake your body, responding cautiously, and inadvertly shaking Paige in the process. "Peanut Butter?" you say. "Yeah?" she manages timidly and you press your hands on her waist, moving her gently, only for her to shudder at the sole movement. 

You chuckle at her sensitivity and general posterior as you disclose, "Secret's out," with a humorous whisper.

And to your collective surprise, realizing Serena is back too, she responds resolutely.

"Good."

MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: i think you just witnessed the fact i can’t write angst — or maybe it’s just the creative slumping idk man show all your fav writers some love it’s rly tough out here lol! as always i am now gonna beg for you to interact with me because ily all sm - ana. ALSO TY FOR NEARLY 900 FOLLOWERS WTF!! love u all my cutiemooties, followers, anons 🤍

[marioluigifan134]

The Voice of Skeeter/Henry about Nora/Starbitedreams/UmbreonDarkEdge

Hello, this is Nickolas of Miiblr writing for a brief moment here, I need to address what is really happening between us (more specifically, a user named @patti-mayonnaise A.K.A. Skeeter/Henry) and Nora/Starbitedreams, because I am getting really sick of watching people defend this person when they are not an innocent person at all. I will give this post to Skeeter's side now, here's his side of what is going on.

This is about Skeeter's relationship with Starbite.

Everything Skeeter/Henry writes will be in black text to avoid confusion (my text is in purple).

Also, there are some Trigger Warnings that I want to warn you all about, as this post contains sexually explicit and suggestive content and manipulation!

hey. im henry (starby's ex boyfriend, who came out about his actions to the mods.) fuck idk where to begin. maybe i should start with the harmless stuff because god i suck with my words starbys obsessive behavior always bothered me when i was with him. i felt like it'd be impossible for me to even speak to him because of how clingy he could get. this also came to play when i started to get f/os (i use self shipping as a coping mechanism which i guess.. pissed him off??)

ah! speaking of his bpd! he would blame it on literally everything. especially his hypersexuality. hell, he even thought making porn of IRL ME, WHOS 15 (he drew it when i was 14) WOULD BE OK??? STARBY HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING THAT SHIT CAN GET YOU IN TROUBLE

before you say "oh henry!! why didn't you stop him??" well with the given ss, i didn't have a choice. considering i was his bf at the time, i thought it'd be best to keep my mouth shut and let him do what he wants, but i was very uncomfy. considering im asexual

starby, YOU. ARE. MY. BOYFRIEND. i should be having to ask you to comfort me, ffs!!

now here's the flat out racism. before september 8th hit and i was still 14, i was talking to starby about how my dad didn't give me a quince (for personal reasons, even tho its our tradition) and with one google search, heres what he had to say

"pedophile ass shit" STARBY THATS NOT HOW IT WORKS??? AT LEAST THATS NOT HOW MY FAMILY DOES IT??? you're not even mexican yourself so how do you know???? insensitive ass

anyways moving on, going back to my self ship discussion, he would get very butthurt about my obsessions and f/os (mostly doug, my comfort character and bravoman, my f/o (who is portrayed without his suit and his mii form) which i find very ironic considering he would not stfu about wanting to fuck an old man (taizo hori)

(context for the last two images) i was in a doug server with him (since he asked and i figured cuz hes OBSESSED) with me and idk i guess he got jealous that i wasnt in the same fandom as him so he found reasons for me to not like doug??? idk but the way he worded it was very rude and i was reached out by two mods and the server owner with how uncomfortable he made everyone felt. so eventually he got banned

..thats all i have to say. bottom line is that i hope he gets the help he needs.

henry out

Alright, Nickolas is back, and I want to mention that me and my friends also had our fair share of experiences with Nora. While it is not finished (as far as I know), I feel the need to share the doc explaining them here, because what it contains should tell you everything in our true experiences.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

An Aviation Special

Summary: You had always wanted to experience Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but when it starts to go sideways thanks to your travel companions, you fear the whole trip, maybe even the whole city, has been ruined for you. But then a handsome stranger swoops in when some drunk idiot gets too handsy, and your night takes an unexpected turn for the better. 

Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 3.5K 

Warnings: Fluff galore, language, drunk idiots and handsy men, mentions of flashing. 

Notes: Written for @thedroneranger's pick your poison challenge, with a Mardi Gras board of my dreams. 

---

----

You were doing your best not to panic, choosing instead to focus on the annoyance coursing through your body instead. Your sister and her friends, her stupid, reckless friends, had done what they always did and got a little too wild, and while you had slipped away to the bathroom, they thought it would be a great idea to switch bars. Instead of waiting for you, they had shot a text to the Bachelorette Bead Bash group chat that you had created, telling you where to meet them. Only now you were there, and they were nowhere to be found. And to top it all off, your phone was dead. 

“Stupid, stupid bridesmaids,” you muttered under your breath, pushing through the rowdy crowd of people none-too-gently to get to the bar. You tried not to cringe when you felt how sticky it was, immediately withdrawing your hands. “Excuse me,” you said, speaking a little louder when at first you didn’t get the bartender’s attention. He turned to you with a bored, exasperated look on his face, clearly annoyed with all the drunk tourists taking up space. “Do you happen to have a phone charger? I just need it for long enough to make one phone call, I promise.” 

“No, sorry.” 

You groaned as he walked away without another word, resisting the urge to stomp your foot in frustration. This was just your luck. 

“I don’t have a charger, but flash your tits for me, gorgeous, and I’ll give you some of these beads.” 

You turned your head to the drunk idiot standing far too close to you, a scowl on your deep purple painted lips as he shook the aforementioned colorful beads in your face. He reeked of sweat and cheap liquor and his eyes were glazed over as he leered at you. 

“How about you take those beads and strangle yourself with them instead?” you snarked back, and to your disgust, the guy and his buddies only laughed. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him and taking a step to start forcing yourself through the throngs of bodies that were almost certainly violating some sort of fire code. You didn’t get far before a hand was grabbing your arm, jolting you back. 

“Come on, baby, you know you want to.” 

The panic was trying its best to creep up again, but the annoyance was also morphing into anger as you narrowed your eyes. You were contemplating the risk of slapping him across the face when a voice spoke up from beside you. 

“I think she said no, man. But those girls over there look pretty eager.” 

The guy almost stumbled in his intoxication when he turned to see where the newcomer was indicating, shouting in excitement at the view of three women standing on a table pulling their shirts up as plastic flung in their direction. Him and his friends moved in that direction without another glance at you. The bouncer of the bar was also heading their way, and you breathed a sigh of relief that not only were the guys leaving you alone, but hopefully those women would make it out of here safely, too. 

“Pawning my problem off on other women goes against every feminist bone in my body,” you said, turning for the first time to put a face to the voice who had come to your rescue. You’re met with a startling pair of dark eyes and a jawline that should be illegal. His smile was warm and amused, and despite all the irritation you were feeling, you couldn’t help but take a moment and think damn. 

“It seemed like they would welcome the attention a lot more than you were,” he justified, and his voice was as smooth this time as it was the first time he spoke. You gave a noncommittal hum in response, and he raised a thick eyebrow as his smile grew. “You’re welcome.” 

“I didn’t say thank you.” 

“Were you planning to?” he challenged, and you felt a fluttering in your stomach at his playful tone. You contemplated for a moment, eyes narrowed and colorful lips pursed. You could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as he stared back at you, waiting. 

“Thank you,” you finally said, only a little bit begrudgingly, and the stranger nodded in satisfaction. 

“You’re welcome,” he repeated. “Also, there’s a place a few bars down that has a charging station. I overheard you asking the bartender.” 

"Oh my god," you groaned in relief, "are you serious?" 

He laughed, the sound washing over you. He motioned for you to follow him through the crowd toward the exit. You hesitated for a moment, remembering that you were in a city you had never been in before during their busiest tourist week of the year, and you didn't know this man. But then a cheer came from the corner, and when you glanced over, one of the guys from earlier had climbed on the table and taken off his shirt, plastic beads flying everywhere. You winced and turned back, nodding once. As you made your way out of the bar and onto the bustling street, you couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he navigated through the chaos. 

"I'm Javy, by the way," he offered once you made it onto the sidewalk. 

"Nice to meet you," you replied, offering up your name in return. He stuck close to you as he guided you down the overly crowded streets. You tried your best to ignore the lingering unease that clung to the back of your mind, but you found that his confident demeanor made it easy. "Are you a local?" you asked. 

He flashed you a charming smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I used to be," he explained. "I grew up here, but I live in California currently. But New Orleans will always be home in a lot of ways. I take it you're not?" 

"No," you snorted, narrowly avoiding running into someone running in the opposite direction. Your arm brushed against Javy's as you pushed slightly closer to him, and you tried to ignore the heat that the slight touch caused. "I'm here for my sister's bachelorette party. The city had always been on our bucket list to travel to together, but then her friends decided they wanted to overtake the whole trip and make it Mardi Gras of all times." 

"I take it you don't like these friends?" he asked, a hint of humor in his voice. 

You gave him the biggest smile you had since you met him a few minutes ago, and he was laughing before you even spoke the words. "Understatement of the century."

You go on to tell him about how they had pretty much blown the itinerary you had carefully crafted as maid of honor, including how they left to go to the next bar without you, and then not been there when you showed up. You weren't sure why you were telling a man you didn't know all of this, but it felt good to say it out loud nonetheless. 

"They sound like they suck," he said plainly once you were done explaining. You let out a very unladylike snort as you agreed. 

"What about you?" you asked, "what brings you back?" 

"Ironically enough, I'm here for my best friend's bachelor party. There may have been an incident with a few of the groomsmen getting drinks thrown on them, and I ran into one of my cousins at the bar we were just at, so I told them I'd meet up with them once they came back out from going back to the hotel to change." He flashed you another smile, his eyes shining with a genuine warmth. "I suppose everything happens for a reason, though." 

You chuckled, and he winked as you arrived at what you guessed was your destination. Javy held the door open for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Inside, the bar was as lively as the others you had been to, but the atmosphere was strangely inviting. You followed as he led you to the back corner where a row of charging stations lined the wall. You tried not to groan when you saw all of them were in use. 

“Clearly I’m not the only one in New Orleans who went out without a fully charged phone tonight,” you muttered under your breath. A gentle hand on your arm had you turning your gaze to the man who had led you here, his dark, kind eyes meeting yours. 

“Let me buy you a drink while you wait for one to open up.” 

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. There was something about Javy that intrigued you, a magnetic pull that you hadn't felt in a very long time that made you want to spend more time in his company. You desperately needed to charge your phone and get in touch with your sister and her friends, so you'd be waiting here no matter what anyway...there was no harm in a drink, you rationalized. 

"Sure," you finally said, unable to resist his charming smile. "A drink sounds great." 

You followed him to the bar, squeezing through the crowd until you found a spot where you could lean against the counter.

As you waited for someone behind the bar to notice you, Javy leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. "What would you like?" he asked, his voice tinged with what you thought was anticipation.

You turned to face him, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through your veins as your eyes met. His gaze was intense, yet inviting, pulling you into a world of possibilities. "Surprise me," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the clamor of the bar.

With a mischievous grin, Javy flagged down the bartender. You couldn't hear what it was that he ordered, but before long, two stemmed cocktail glasses filled with a vibrant purple liquid garnished with a lemon peel and a deep red cherry were set down in front of you. "Mardi Gras special?" you asked with an eyebrow raise. He laughed as he grabbed both drinks and then nodded his head toward one of the barstools at the very end of the charging station that had just opened up. You hurried over to it before someone else could, sliding onto the barstool almost clumsily. Javy made himself comfortable leaning against the counter beside your stool, facing you. He handed you one of the drinks after you had plugged your dead phone in. Making the conscious decision to enjoy your time with him as much as you could, you placed the screen face down. 

"It's called an Aviation, actually." 

He looked almost amused as he brought the drink to his lips. You studied him closely as you did the same, letting the flavors of the gin and lemon dance on your tastebuds. 

"What do you think?" he asked. 

"It's delicious." 

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched you intently, and you didn't miss the way his eyes flickered to your lips when you licked away a stray drop of the liquid when you took another sip. The air crackled with tension, and you had to fight the urge to lean closer to him. He cleared his throat, looking away momentarily. You tampered down the shiver that threatened to run through you. 

"So why'd you leave New Orleans?" you asked, breaking the silence. 

"Work," he explained."I'm in the Navy, so I've lived all over the place." 

"The Navy, huh?" 

He hummed in confirmation.That glint in his eyes that made you feel like you were missing something was back, and your eyes narrowed in curiosity. "And what do you do in the Navy?"

A smirk played on his lips. He tried to cover it by taking another sip of his drink, but you saw right through it. He set the glass down, folding his hands together as he stared at you. "I'm an aviator." 

You paused for a beat, looking down at the purple drink before looking back at him, the joke you had been missing clicking into place in your head. 

"Okay," you said slowly, and Javy was already chuckling from his spot beside you. "I see what you did here." 

His laughter was loud, but not obnoxiously so, instead surrounding you like a comforting warmth. You couldn't help but join in with him, your giggles blending seamlessly with his. 

The atmosphere around you seemed to fade into the background as the two of you talked, the conversation flowing easily between you. The more you learned about Javy, the more intrigued you became. His passion for flying was evident in every word he spoke, and it was contagious. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, mesmerized by his experiences and adventures. And when you spoke, he listened with genuine interest, occasionally interjecting with laughter or witty remarks. The more you talked, the more drawn you felt to him. There was something about his easy charm and attentive nature that made you feel seen and understood.

Eventually, your phone buzzed with a notification, indicating that it had finally regained some charge. Reluctantly, you flipped it over and glanced at the screen. Reading through the few messages that you missed in the chat, you snorted in disbelief. "My sister and three of her bridesmaids started throwing up at the last bar they went to." 

"Yikes," Javy winced. "Are they okay?" 

Your heart fluttered at the concern he showed for people he didn't even know. Damn damn damn. 

"They're fine," you assured him with a small smile. "The other two have already dragged them back to the hotel to sleep it off. Guess the night is over." 

You felt sad as you said the words. The night had started a shit show, but talking to Javy had turned it around. You weren't really ready for it to come to an end just yet. 

As you reached to unplug your phone, Javy's hand gently clasped yours, halting your movement. "You don't need to rush off just yet," he said softly, his warm gaze holding yours. "Why don't you come hang out with me and my friends instead?" 

You looked at him in surprise, shocked by the offer. 

"Don't you think your best friend will be mad that I'm crashing his bachelor party?" 

"Not even a little bit," he assured you. "They're all good guys, I promise." 

You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated. 

You knew that you should decline. Going off with a group of strangers in a city you barely knew didn't exactly scream "intelligent decision." Still, you found that you wanted to take him up on it. 

Reading the apprehension on your face, Javy continued on, more eager now as he tried to convince you. "Look, as a Louisiana boy, I can't bring myself to allow you to leave New Orleans without actually enjoying yourself. You deserve to have a good time." His hand settled on yours again and squeezed gently. When he spoke, he was shyer than he had been all night. "And if I'm being honest with myself...the last thirty minutes with you have been the highlight of my trip home, and that's saying something. I'm not really ready for it to end yet." 

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of deceit or ulterior motive. But all you found was sincerity and an excitement that you felt flicker in you, too. Against your better judgment, you nodded. You were tired of playing by the rules, tired of always being the responsible one. Maybe tonight could be different.

"Alright," you conceded, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Lead the way."

Javy's grin widened, and he intertwined his fingers with yours before guiding you out of the crowded bar. The night air hit you with a welcome change as you followed him through the lively streets. 

His friends waited at a bar just a few blocks away. As you approached, their laughter and boisterous conversation spilled onto the sidewalk. When they saw Javy walking hand in hand with you, their eyes widened with surprise. Almost instantly, the cat calls started. 

Javy rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh lightly as you leant against him. "Yeah, yeah. Knock it off." 

He introduced you to each of his friends amongst their teasing. They were a rowdy group, and it wasn't hard to see how much they cared for each other. The camaraderie instantly calmed you. 

It was surprisingly easy, letting yourself have fun with this group of strangers. They accepted your presence like it was nothing, involving you in every conversation and debate they had, and within a few hours, you felt like you had known them for a lot longer than you really had. The night continued on, a whirlwind of pretty purple drinks and colorful masks and exuberant laughter. Vibrant jazz music reverberated through the air, the streets full of purple, gold and green chaos. You could feel the pulsating energy of the city surging through you, and this is exactly why you had always wanted to come here. 

At some point, Javy grabbed your hand, beckoning you to dance with him. You giggled happily as he twirled you. The world around you melted away, leaving only the pulsating music and the warmth of his touch. You were tipsy from all the alcohol and the thrill of an unexpected night with a man who made you feel something no one else ever has. You wished it wouldn’t have to end.

“Me either,” he said, making you realize you had said that out loud. But instead of feeling embarrassed at your slip, you giggled and leant into him further. 

“I mean it,” you insisted. Javy’s smile had become familiar to you tonight, and the butterflies erupted in your stomach just as they had the last few hours when he flashed it in your direction. “You know, you’d make the perfect wedding date, if only you didn’t live so far away.” 

He hummed in what you thought was agreement, but didn’t say anything. The look he gave you was contemplative, like there was something he was trying to figure out. “What?” you asked. 

“When’s the wedding?” 

You threw your head back in laughter, realizing what he was getting at. “Still a few months away. You’ll have completely forgotten about me by then, I’m sure.” 

Javy's eyes sparkled as he pulled you even closer, his hand still holding yours tightly. "Oh, I highly doubt that," he replied, and the way his voice dropped sent shivers down your spine. "Seriously. When's the wedding?" 

"The second weekend in May." 

"If I'm not deployed, I'll be there." 

You shook your head in disbelief as more giggles escaped, completely enraptured by this man. "Sure, Javy." 

His smile softened and he raised a hand to cup your face, and you couldn't help but instinctively lean into his touch as his thumb brushed your skin. "I mean it. I want to be there. With you." You searched his eyes for a long moment, searching for anything other than the sincerity and tenderness staring back at you. You felt a rush of emotions when you found none. In that moment, looking at you the way that he was, he felt like so much more than just a stranger you met on a wild night out in New Orleans. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you raised on your toes and pressed your lips against his. 

The kiss was soft at first, gentle and sweet, but it quickly deepened into something more passionate. For a moment, you hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing to do, but then you realized that you didn't care. You found yourself lost in him, and everything else faded away. All of the tension that had been building between the two of you that night was pushed into this one moment. You nearly stumbled at the intensity, but Javy just pulled you closer and kissed you harder. He tasted like gin and lemons and cherry from the purple drink you both had been drinking all night, and you realized it tasted even better from him. 

Finally, the two of you broke apart, both panting heavily. You gazed at each other as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he brushed some of your hair out of your face. 

You swallowed thickly before speaking, your voice trembling just slightly. "I want you there, too," you said, and you knew it was crazy, but you also knew you meant it. 

A slow grin spread across his face, and before you could say anything else, Javy's lips were back on yours.

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Main Masterlist

Notes: I'm kind of feeling a part two? Maybe? I'm actually so in love with this man, it's unreal.

Thanks to @thedroneranger for the incredible banner, and to @roosterforme @mak-32 for their help, and to @sylviebell for catching an embarrassing amount of typos after I thought I was already done editing

[onepiecepetalfanfics089]

Yandere vampire Luffy getting jealous and breaking the nose of one of his vampy friends trying to bite on his precious Reader?

Belong To Me~..

College student reader!! X yandere vampire! Luffy!

Halloween special~

Fluttering your eyes open, you opened your eyes and sat up in your bed to face the world. Looking around, you noticed it was a bit dark..the curtains were closed after all.

“It’s so dark in here..isn’t supposed to be a bit sunny today..?”

You asked to yourself, sitting up out of your bed, you got up and turned to your curtains. Opening then to the reveal the glorious sunlight shining through. Of course the weather wasn’t as hot though. A smile made its way onto your lips as you were just about to comment on the weather, especially for Halloween season you heard a hiss.

A hiss of pain, like someone was behind you and felt pain from the..sunlight..?

Immediately, you turned around to look at what was behind you but there you saw nothing. In the shadows you saw nothing lurking around..

Or so you thought..

Little did you know that there was a certain vampire with obsidian black hair and big wide eyes filled with curiosity and adventure. A vampire that was completely..compelled by you.

Luffy blew on his wing as quietly as he could, but also trying to heal it from the sunlight you just had to shine at this time of day!

He huffed, his eyes following your every move while you walked around the room. Who knows how long he’s been staying in your apartment..one day he found you and couldn’t let go..he would never forget that one fateful rainy day.

The wind was crisp as autumn was coming to a close. The moon was shining bright as a light in a dark room. Luffy unfortunately, was having a bit too much fun in his bat form that night and was being a little reckless..he was laying on the wet floor, tired, hurt and hungry. But then you came. You came and rescued him from who knows what could’ve happen to him. You fed him, cared for him and loved him. All in his bat form but that still counts for something right?!

His heart fluttered as he grinned, showing his white shiny fangs along with his other pearly white teeth. Just look at you..those eyes..that hair..that smile.

He just had to protect you no matter what..soon, you’d be his..

And nothing could change that.

He was absolutely sure of it, oh so delusional..his grin didn’t even falter at all as he jumped from the bookshelf and turned into his bat form, flying after you when he saw you leave out the front door while you were talking on the phone, trying to keep quiet.

The sound of your phone ringing got your attention as you picked it up from your bag and answered it, the beeping finally stopping. Now your eyes were locked on where you were going but still you kept your mind open to whoever was calling you so suddenly just when classes were about to start.

“Hey,Y/N!!”

Your eyes lit up as soon as you heard that voice, it was your best friend who was also attending the school you were currently going to! But what did they want?

“Hey,(F/N) what’s up? You know we’ll see each other in class right?”

“Yeah i know! But I just wanted to make sure about one thing, you’re going to the Halloween party one of the students is throwing tonight right? It’s gonna be huge!!”

You thought about for a second..would a part be good for you?..you liked Halloween..and you could get a a taste of the college experience better..sure why not!

You have been feeling a bit..watched lately..

A smile made its way onto your lips as you opened up the door to your first class of the day.

“You bet your ass I am!”

.

.

.

.

.

.

When you walked into the party you were immediately hit by the flashing lights and colors. So many people were dancing and even singing that it was hard to keep track of who was who.

Looking around for your friend who invited you in the first place, you went over to the punch bowl.

Leaning against the railing, you took out your phone and texted your friend to let them know you were here but all of a sudden you felt a light, gentle tap on your shoulder.

Turning around, you saw a boy with black hair. He had a big grin on his face with excitement in his wide eyes. Something about him was truly..compelling..you could already tell. He had a scar under his right eye and..fangs?..

No! That had to be a costume! Get it it together Y/N!..

Looking up at him, his smile only grew somehow. He just met you but seemed so so excited..was he new?..

“Hi!! My names Luffy! Yours?!”

He did while holding his hand out, sheepishly smiling you gently took it and shook it in a friendly manner.

“Hey Luffy I’m Y/N..how do you know the host of this party?..or are you new to campus..I don’t recall seeing you around..”

He blinked a few times and then laughed a bit nervously.

“Oh well..yeah..I’m new! I know the host by..an old pal!”

Tilting your head you nodded. The whole conversation so far, you saw that he hadn’t removed his gaze off of you..once.

His cheery attitude never left or faltered once while the two of you were talking and for some reason you felt he was a bit off. Whenever you told him something about yourself like your favorite food, color or music style, he didn’t seem surprised like..at all.

It was like he already knew the answers.

Like he already knew you.

Like the back of his hand..

A few minutes had passed and he was still rambling about some nonsense. Boy, he really did know how to talk your ear off didn’t he..? He seemed so excited to talk to you. Not to mention he kept inching a bit closer, so close that if he wanted to, he could pull you in a hug without even trying.

Then out of no where, two hands slowly slid down to your hips. Eyes widening in shock and surprise you instinctively turned around to face whoever was in a touchy mood tonight.

You would notice that Luffy also stopped immediately when someone Dared to lay a finger on your precious body.

He was clenching his plastic cup with juice in it, making the juice slowly drip down his fist to his arm.

He hated when others stole your attention from him. He did not like it. Not one bit.

The person who grabbed you from behind seemed to have the same vibe as Luffy….kinda..And those fangs..those fangs they had looked so real..

But they couldn’t be! Vampires weren’t real! Right?

“Hey Luffy, who’s this cutie?..”

The guy asked, unusually staring at the side of your neck..

Luffy groaned. Why couldn’t he just have you to himself?..he gave a little pout as he watched you and his friend talk for a bit.

In all honesty, he didn’t really care if that guy was his friend..

Yeah, they did know each other for a few..years, and they looked out fir each other whenever the humans tried to kill them but..

Whoever should even dare to touch will get their asses kicked.

Luffy’s thoughts were really running wild through his mind. What if he tried to take you away from him..? What would he do with you? Who would he do with you?!?

Man..he really didn’t know why you made him so..so..

Quiet.

His mind then went quiet when he saw the sight before him.

His friend was trying to bite you.

He had his jaw open and forcefully tilting your head to the side so he could have more access. You look confused out of your mind, why was he trying to bite you..? What was this?

With the lights, the music and the people all around you three, adrenaline shot through Luffy’s veins. He snapped. He just couldn’t handle this anymore.

You were his.

You saved him.

He was supposed to protect you!

Without a thought he lunged forward, a shadow covering his eye as a serious look that rarely showed on his face.

His fist instantly connecting with his friend who tried to bite your neck with his dirty slimy teeth. The guy clenched his nose as blood trickled from his hand and letting out a loud groan of pain.

You were absolutely shocked, looking down at him with a mix of shock and horror.

By now, the party had stopped and everyone was looking at the scene that just played out.

Luffy took a few deep breaths, his fists clenched. Looking at you he smiled, not even caring about the whole scene he had caused.

Without any hesitation at all he swooped you up into his arms and flew out the window, holding you tight as you screamed for help. There were people who ran to try to help and others just stared. Ether way he finally had you now he was never letting you go.

Ever.

Back in his cave he had you in between his legs, snuggling his head in your neck. Unfortunately, you were making too much noise while he was carrying you so he had to knock you out. It was okay though! You would forgive him eventually..

He had to admit he was overjoyed to finally have you here his cave, holding you close and caring for you.

He had all your favorite things here!..that he may or may not have stolen from your home..Your clothes, pictures..you would love it!

A grin was plastered on his face as he took in your scent and let out a happy sigh.

“Finally..”

He said softly in your neck, his grip slowly tightening around you.

“You Belong To Me..”

Hey guys!! I thought I’d do this request first since it was only two days after Halloween! I really liked this one and I hope you guys did too!❤️🌸❤️

@anemptypuddingcup thank you so much for requesting this sweetie! I really hope you liked this!! I thought I’d make it into a modern college AU because it fit better for me lol, sorry if that messed it up 😭 but I really hope you enjoyed this because it was so much fun to write this🫶🏼 remember, you can always request from me because I LOVE your ideas! Thank you again darling!

Until next time my pretty petals!! 🌸🌱🪷

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Anna North at Vox:

The day after the presidential election, LaToya Bufford’s 16-year-old daughter got a text saying she had been “selected to pick cotton at the nearest plantation.” The text came from a number Bufford’s daughter didn’t recognize, but it addressed her by her full name. The teenager told her mom that some of her friends had gotten the message, too, but only those who, like her, are Black.

Bufford said her daughter didn’t have much visible reaction to the text. But Bufford herself was left frightened and on high alert. “I was just shocked and so angry,” Bufford, who lives in Sacramento, California, told me. “If this could happen to my 16-year-old child,” she said, “I’m just scared about what could also happen.” Bufford’s daughter was one of the middle school, high school, and college students in more than 20 states who received similar racist texts in the days following the election. The attacks have continued and broadened in the weeks since, with Latino and LGBTQ+ recipients getting messages threatening them with deportation or being sent to “reeducation camps,” according to the FBI. Some messages purported to be from “the Trump administration,” though the Trump campaign has said it had nothing to do with the messages. The FBI is still investigating the wave of harassment, leaving kids and families wondering who got their names and phone numbers and sent them terrifying, personalized messages.

Meanwhile, other children across the country encountered hate speech and harassment at school immediately following the election, from a racist note left in a Wyoming high school bathroom to a spate of anti-immigrant and other discriminatory incidents in a Vermont district. There’s not much comprehensive data yet on how many kids have been harassed in the wake of last month’s election, but experts and school officials say the incidents documented so far, like the texts Bufford’s daughter and others received, reflect a continuation of a disturbing pattern.

After the 2016 election, Donald Trump’s xenophobic rhetoric about immigrants and other groups made its way to high school, middle school, and even elementary school campuses, and children began shouting “build the wall” and threatening their classmates with deportation. News reports between 2016 and 2020 document more than 300 incidents of students or school staff using Trump’s words or name to harass children, according to a 2020 Washington Post analysis. I reported on hate crimes and harassment in 2016 and 2017. Schools, unfortunately, were a big part of the story, with swastikas and racist slogans defacing the places where children, one parent reminded me, are supposed to be safe. Kids, especially teenagers, don’t always open up to adults about how harassment makes them feel. But hate speech can cut deep, particularly when the target is a child whose brain and sense of self are still developing. Kids can experience physical symptoms like stomach pain and headaches; others can have panic attacks or insomnia.

Harassment can also deprive young people of their legal right to an education, making them too afraid to stay in class or even to come to school at all, said Erin Maguire, director of equity and inclusion for Vermont’s Essex Westford School District, which experienced a steep increase in harassment reports the week of the election. While complaints there have leveled off, some experts remain concerned about the impact a second Trump administration could have on kids across the country. Kids continued lobbing Trump-inspired insults at their peers throughout his first term, according to the Washington Post analysis. Schools can make a big difference in supporting students who have been targeted and creating environments free from discrimination, experts say. But they may face an uphill battle in an administration that’s already broadcast its opposition to equity and inclusion initiatives, as well as its intent to dismantle government education agencies that enforce civil rights. Now some parents are left preparing their children on their own for what they see as a new reality.

[...]

How to help kids who have been harassed

Families shouldn’t be on their own to protect kids from hate speech; political leaders have an important role to play, experts say. “Any message that public officials send can trickle down to children,” Aziz said. “The more public officials that denounce hateful things,” she said, “the more examples our children have to look up to.” Educators, too, “are looked to across communities to really offer a way forward,” said Liz King, senior program director for education equity at the Leadership Conference. “It is meaningfully important when they get up and say, ‘This is awful.’” School leaders can also counter hate speech and discrimination by using curricula that are inclusive of all students, King said. The Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights also offers resources for preventing and responding to discrimination in schools. Trump has pledged to eliminate that department, but the laws that protect kids’ right to an education aren’t changing, King said. “These laws are not going anywhere, and so each of us has a responsibility to ensure that this administration meaningfully protects all of us from discrimination and enforces our civil rights laws.”

Children across America, especially if they are Black, Latino, and/or LGBTQ+, are the most vulnerable to being victims of post-election bullying in the wake of Donald Trump’s return to office.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Doc Is In 🩺 | Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell Imagine

Takes place during TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x doctor!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, slight profanity, mentions of medical operations | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.7k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @wildellaa 🤍)

Premise: Funny how a routine checkup after a near-death experience can lead to sudden revelations. For the dagger squad, this revelation comes in the news their infamous instructor happens to be quite close to the new base physician…who happens to be a high ranking Air Force personnel.

Note: I’m sorry by how long this took and I apologize if its bad/weak 🥹 I started a new job (my first job every) and it’s been a wild couple weeks but I promise I’m coming back! Also side note- the joke I added about the Air Force Dress Blues is an actual jab the branches use against the Air Force 😂 my mom was in the AF for 24 years and hated the Blues after they changed the uniform.

———————————

“Are you feeling any lightheadedness, nausea, or ringing in your ears?” Nat squinted against the light shining in her eyes, but adjusted before answering.

“No, just a little shaken. That’s all.” She kept her gaze forward as instructed, blinking once the light turned off. A light chuckle left the physician's lips.

“I would expect so after what you just experienced,” her smile was kind, jotting down notes on the pad beside her. “Normal behavior, but if you feel any of the symptoms I just listed at any point let me know. It doesn’t appear you have a concussion but we can never be too careful. And no visible sign of injuries to the chest or torso, indicating you had a more graceful landing than most pilots I see.”

“Is emergency ejections a common occurrence for you, Colonel?”

The woman chuckled, “You’d be surprised. Between the Air Force and Navy, my resume with treating you a lot doesn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon.” She goes to the computer to enter the report, “Most cases involve broken or bruised ribs. But thankfully you appear in good shape. We just wanna watch out for any changes regarding your head.”

Nat nodded, moving to zip up her flight suit while the physician, an Air Force Colonel, the highest ranking for Air Force officers, with the last name L/n-Mitchell, wrote up the report notes on the computer.

Huh, funny how she shared the same last name as her boss.

“Your vitals are normal, no visible external injuries, and no sign of a concussion,” she repeated, fingers typing away, “but again we’ll keep an eye on those. I’ll get you and Lieutenant Floyd checked in for overnight observation—in the meantime is there anyone I can call to bring you anything you might need?”

“No need,” Nat waved a hand, “They’re all out in the lobby waiting for an update.” Rooster had sent her a text saying they had her and Bob’s things from their locker and food from the base Exchange.

Colonel L/n-Mitchell chuckled, “I’ll go grab them for you two.” She goes to the edge of the curtain, speaks to the person on the other side briefly before moving the fabric away to release the divide between the two spaces. When she does so the curtain reveals a pale-faced Bob on the opposite side.

“You good, Floyd?” Nat asks, untying her boots to make herself comfortable since she was to stay the night. Her answer was a groan.

“I might have thrown up a couple times.”

“What’s the diagnosis?”

“Just the case of my stomach being flipped upside down,” Bob leans back until he’s sprawled out on the bed. “I’m surprised I didn’t crap my pants.” Phoenix cringed, but bit back a laugh.

The Colonel placed her pen in her front pocket, smiling at the aviators, “I’ll be right back with your friends. Hang tight.” She opened the front curtain and disappeared, combat boots echoing with each step.

Bob and Nat waited about five minutes tops when she returned with Jake, Bradley, Mickey, Reuben, and Javy. “They’re in one piece,” she teased, moving to the side so they could all greet each other.

“We got your favorite,” Jake lifted a bag from Subway. Pulling out two sandwiches for Nat and Bob. They thanked them and started showing down when the curtain drew back again to reveal Pete.

“Sorry I’m late,” eyes instantly go toward the physician causing a smile to form on his lips. “Well this is a surprise.” Her own smile appeared.

“I told you I was transferring here.” The statement had all eyes, minus Bradley’s go wide. In fact Bradley mirrored Mav’s happy expression. Indicating he had some sort of familiarity to the Colonel.

Pete shocked them even more when he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I was expecting to see you next week,” he lets his eyes wander her uniform clad figure, grinning from ear to ear. She was in her Air Force ABUs, “Did you get in last night?”

“I did. Got settled at tlf, was planning on surprising you tonight but it looks like fate had other ideas,” she giggled, accepting his kiss causing gasps to ring out. “I take it this bunch belongs to you?”

“Hold the phone,” Javy said what everyone was thinking. He pointed at Mav, “You,” then pivoted to the woman, “And you are….”

She finished for him, “married.”

“Married!”

“I missed some chapters.”

“You never said you were married,” Phoenix stated, not seeing a wedding ring on either of their hands. It was common for military personnel to not wear rings due to their jobs, but surely Maverick would’ve mentioned in passing.

“I thought you guys knew.”

Javy scoffed, “We sure did not. Let alone to the base physician.”

“New base physician,” she corrected, “I just transferred here so really no one would have known. Although,” she turns to Bradley, “I thought you would’ve said something, Bradley.” The pilot just shrugged and mumbled how his thoughts were occupied with Nat and Bob. “Anyway, it is nice to meet you all. Sorry we had to become acquainted in these circumstances.”

The pilots were flabbergasted. First to find out that their instructor was married, and second to discover it was to a full bird Colonel.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Colonel,” Jake began, not used to addressing Air Force personnel. The Navy’s equivalent to a full bird colonel was Captain. Which happened to be her husband's rank. And generally when licensed physicians enter the Air Force they’re automatically ranked Captain or Major. So it made him wonder how long Pete’s wife had been in the Air Force to reach the rank of Colonel. “But where were you before coming to Miramar?”

“Vandenberg.” Ah, the Air Force Base up north in central California. One of the largest bases in the country and satellite home of both NASA and SpaceX.

Not to mention in the last two decades it had several shark attacks on its beaches.

The next hour consisted of the squad asking the couple several questions including the typical, “how long have you two been together?” “Have you always been in the Air Force?” And “Why haven’t you mentioned you were married, Captain?”

“Again, I thought you knew,” Mav reinstated, slightly flustered from the knowing look he received from his wife.

“We’ve been married ten years,” Y/n explained with a smile. “Though we’d been friends for some time. So…” she brought a finger to her lips, “I wanna say it was 2004 when we met for the first time. I had just commissioned.”

“What did you come in as?”

“Captain,” she answered Payback, “well, Lieutenant in your case.”

“And how long have you been a full bird, ma’am,” Mickey’s eyes were full of curiosity. He thought it was so cool his instructor was the highest officer rank for the Navy and married to the highest officer rank of the Air Force.

“About three years,” her face was full of pride, as was Mav’s. “And to answer your question from earlier; no, I hadn’t joined until after six years of being a civilian practitioner following my residency.” If they were to do the math, it would put Y/n at graduating from both high school, college, and med school one year early.

Oh she was smart smart.

One could guess by the John Hopkins and Duke University class rings on her fingers.

“I gotta ask,” Mickey looked between the two, grin already forming. “Do you ever have rivalry?”

“You mean because of Air Force vs Navy?” Y/n laughed. “Of course we do. Especially during college football season.” Pete laughed with her.

“You’re outnumbered here, darling.”

She playfully scoffed, “It’s only fair since you were back in Lompoc.” Turning to the pilots who were holding back smiles she added, “fifteen years and things don’t seem to change. I hope,” she motions a hand between them, “we can find some civility. All things considered.” Of course it was a joke, the branch rivalry and all that. But Y/n loved a good friendly bicker and the squad seemed to also.

“Just don’t wear your Blues around here,” Javy started, “unless you wanna be called a flight attendant.” The entire room erupted in laughter, Y/n pointing a finger as if to say, ‘Good one.’ She hated how the Air Force Dress Blues looked. It was the running joke between the branches and she couldn’t blame it.

Every time she had to wear them when flying she was stopped by people asking where to find their gate.

Hangman let out a whistle after they all calmed down. “When I woke up this morning I didn’t expect It end with meeting Mrs. Mitchell?” The couple shared a look, a smile on Y/n’s face.

“I prefer Doctor Mitchell.”

Pete went into detail of how the two met—which had Nat snapping her head to Y/n only to receive a wink.

No wonder she mentioned chest injuries as a theme when dealing with pilots.

It was a stellar retelling of how the man decided to defy yet another Admiral resulting in him ejecting from a high speed plane over a mountain range. Y/n had recently commissioned and was sent to Langley Air Force Base in Virginia, but was TDY to Oceana Naval Base for a seminar. Seeing she was the most qualified and only personnel available at the time, she was to conduct Pete’s medical examination.

“So,” she mused at the name on the clipboard, not bothering to pay him a glance as he sat on the bed. “You’re the infamous Pete Mitchell everyone has been buzzing about.” Beelining to the computer, Y/n heard a deep chuckle.

“Guilty.”

The response led to a roll of the eyes, focusing on the screen in front of her, “Are you experiencing any nausea, dizziness, lightness of the head?”

“No.”

“Ringing in the ears, distortion of the eyesight, or pain in any area?”

“No, ma’am.”

The clicking of the mouse rang with each check off the electronic list, “It says you made physical contact with the ground when you landed. Are you feeling any discomfort in your chest or abdomen?”

Pete shook his head despite her not looking at him, “just a little soreness and a bruised ego. But other than that I’m good.” Biting back a grin, Y/n grabbed the stethoscope and began to turn.

“Well we can't be too careful now can we?” Upon settling her gaze on Pete Mitchell, Y/n felt an instant ‘Woah’ to her otherwise relaxed composure. Freezing for a bare second as their eyes locked before remembering where she was, stepping to his side to begin her evaluation.

Only her heart was beating a little faster than the average rate.

The nurse had already taken Pete’s vitals. Blood pressure, temperature, and all that. Now it was time for Y/n to conduct a more thorough scan.

“Deep breath for me, please,” were her instructions, the scope on his back, “And tell me if you feel any pain.”

Pete, hoping the skip in his own heart goes unnoticed by the doctor, does as he’s told. A slight wince causes her brows to raise in concern, “Commander?”

He clears his throat, “Yes, sorry. I feel a little tense.” She steps away from him, asking to point out the area. She places the scope lightly where he locates the discomfort.

“Deep breath, slow this time,” leaning in, Y/n pays close attention to the sound thumping against her ears. “Inhale.” Pete draws in a breath. “And exhale,” he winces again. Removing the stethoscope, the Captain instructed him to lean back until he was laying down.

“Would you mind unzipping your flight suit, Commander Mitchell?” Pete was left in his undershirt, suit unzipped to his hips allowing Y/n to lift the material to assess his chest. She was trying not to look flustered at her obvious attraction to the man. He had to have been nearly ten years older than her, probably in his 40s to her mid thirties.

Still, he was quite the looker. And without a ring on his finger.

The light purplish-yellow swelling on Pete’s torso was an indication he sustained more than just a damaged ego. “By my accounts, Commander, it appears you have acquired at least one if not two bruised ribs,” she lifts his shirt back down, helping him sit up, “I’m impressed you’ve managed to hide the pain you’re experiencing.”

Pete flushed, “I’m used to it. Feels no more than a tickle nowadays.” Y/n snickers, returning to the computer to log the report, “Well you certainly live up to your reputation.”

“I try to,” Pete winked, sending a ripple of warmth through Y/n. Quickly she shook it off to remain professional.

“I’m putting you on bed rest for at least three weeks. Considering this isn’t your first rodeo, I assume you know it takes three to six weeks for bruised ribs to heal completely before going about any physical activities.” Taking a pad to write down his prescription, Y/n continued, “over the counter ibuprofen works fine, but I’m gonna go ahead and prescribe you with Naproxen which is basically Aleve. Cold compress for ten to twenty minutes each day and I would recommend you coming back to the physician on duty for a green light before getting back in the box, Commander.”

Pete makes a face, tilting his head slightly, “You won’t be giving me the green light,” eyes flicker to the ranks on her collar, realizing they were indeed Air Force and not Navy ranks, “Captain?”

His question has her smile, albeit sadly, “Unfortunately I will be back at Langley, Commander. I only assessed you because everyone else on duty was occupied.”

Well that instantly had Mav deflate, stomach sinking at the thought of not being able to see her beautiful face again. Already the pilot was becoming smitten. He wanted to learn more about Y/n, like her career and the things that make her laugh and smile. The type of food she ordered and what she envisioned her life would be like.

“How long are you in town?” He couldn’t help but ask. It made her lips curl up.

“Till Sunday.” It happened to be Wednesday. Allowing the two half of week to allow the sparks starting to form to ignite into fireworks.

One can best believe Mav and Y/n took the opportunity once it was in their grasp. It started with lunch on Thursday to dinner on Friday and a late night drink at the bar on Saturday. By Sunday Y/n left with a light heaviness to her chest that was amended with the fact Pete’s number was in her phone and they had made plans to meet again. Langley and Oceania were not far in distance, so there was hope for the two.

And it was very well received.

The next five years were endless bliss. They had done the distance back and forth for some time and were lucky when they got duty stations near each other, but it wouldn’t be until they married that the Air Force and Navy would station them together or within the same state.

With Y/n as a licensed physician she could be sent to any base, be that Air Force, Navy, or Army. Working through the ranks at an impressive rate. Every base wanted her at their clinic then of course local hospitals were fighting to get her on their board. Then there was Mav as the Navy’s best fighter pilot with a reputation they both loath and admire. Sometimes they were at a base for six months to a year. Other times they didn’t even unpack the boxes.

Let’s just say….Pete lost count of the amount of disapproving looks when he fucked up.

“Seriously, Pete? Again?” Her eyes remained on the paperwork in front of her, arms crossed across her chest while her boyfriend pouted on the opposite side of the table. “We haven’t even been here for a year.”

“I know, but……” he paused, unsure if he would make it worse with his defense. “You did say you hated it here and wish to be reassigned.” He was met with a groan.

“That didn’t mean I gave you the green light to piss off your boss! Again!”

On their five year anniversary, Mav made sure it was one to remember. Following a long day at work all he said to Y/n was to change and met him in the car. Overlooking his typical Levis and white tee, she asked, “Any particular way I should dress?”

“Cute and cozy,” he kissed her cheek, “just like you love.”

Say less. Throwing off her Abu’s Y/n put on a sweater dress since it was chilly and simple shoes. Finishing off the look with one of Pete’s bomber jackets knowing he loved when she wore them. Evident by the smirk on his lips.

Driving down to their fav outdoor bar and grill they ordered appetizers and drinks while enjoying the live music and setting sun. Afterwards he took her to one of their favorite spots in the park. It was filled with lights and fountains, stars twirling from the sky above.

When it came time to present Y/n with the ring, Mav took her hands in his, got down on one knee and relayed a speech straight from his heart that brought tears to both their eyes.

“What do you say, Mrs. Mitchell?” He ended with a cheeky smile, the diamond ring sparkling from within its velvet boxed.

Teary eyed and grinning from ear to ear, Y/n leaned down to kiss him on the lips. “I prefer Doctor Mitchell.”

………………

Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris

[lindisworld]

Close || Matt Murdock x Reader

summary - Soulmate Au! In which [Name] has Daredevil as a soulmate and Matt unwillingly wants [Name] in his life. However Fate does its job and always brings them together.

Chapter One.

It was a couple days after [Name] encountered the trio, once they left the coffee shop. Karen came up to the resister to pay. Luckily for Karen, the shop was fairly empty except one customer who sat at the corner too engrossed in their laptop to even know what happening around them. 

Karen questions [Name] about her injuries in a concerning way. [Name] had nothing to hide and told her the truth about the injuries and how she constantly gets them. In result, gaining sympathy from the blonde. Karen gives her a Nelson and Murdock card with her number on it. 

“Call or text if anything. I would love to be friends.” Karen smiles and pays for their drinks, thanking [Name] once again for the free box of donuts. 

It was a Friday night and Karen had invited [Name] out for a drink at Josie’s, “a girl’s night” as she called it. However [Name] began to notice newer cuts and bruises around her body hours prior so she had to cancel. It’s not that she was in any physical pain, however she didn’t want blood sleeping through her clothing while drinking alcohol.

So here she was on the floor around 1 in the morning, her thigh covered in dried up blood, she did a relatively good job on stitching her skin back together. A skill she had to develop rather quickly due to the surmount of open wounds she’d experience, she couldn’t imagine the pain her soulmate would be in currently. She’s gone to the hospital for the first few times her body was affected by the beatings. 

It was almost like a ritual so she opted on saving the hospital’s resources on someone else than her. Bad luck on her end for receiving such fatal wounds at times in return of internal love. An endless cycle it seemed. 

Mercifully, the wounds she sustained wouldn’t leave lasting scars on her skin. They fade over time and become invisible to the naked eye, almost as if they were never there. Anything her soulmate endures physically will appear, the invisible bond connecting their bodies.

Any bodily injuries that affects his senses will cause her to have the same reaction as her soulmate. Ranging from a collapsed lung to a head injury causing her ears to ring. Yet, this lack of physical pain doesn't diminish the impact it has on her emotional state.

On worst days, Marci would be called over immediately to babysit [Name] for the severe injuries. Just in case she passes out from the blood loss.  On two separate occasions, Marci had a the biggest scare of her life. It got the point where nothing helped and Marci insisted she go to the hospital. Felt like she was close to death without doing anything to get there. 

Marci insisted to find a way to stop the soulmate connection but to no avail. [Name] threw the idea to the trash and immediately disagreed causing arguments with the lawyer. However today was one of the easier days, there was no need to call Marci. 

She hisses out of instinct, though she couldn’t feel the pulsating sensation of the cut but she did feel the needle go through her skin. It was a sight that was unsettling to anyone who was able to witness. 

[Name] patched up her injury and slowly stood up,  careful enough not to reopen the stitches. She took some ibuprofen for the swelling and limped her way to bed. A couple of minutes gone by and she dozed off to sleep. 

It was once again bustling in the cafe, her staff handling all the business coming in and out. [Name] took the opportunity to sit in her office to oversee some inventory and what’s needed for her shop, also allowing her stitches to heal in the meantime. 

[Name] yawns, her arms stretching in the air. She didn’t get enough sleep, considering last night’s event. She hears a knock from her door, a certain knock that only her and Marci know. 

“You know, you can always walk on in if it’s you, Marci.” [Name] said before taking a sip of her overly sweet coffee. Some would say it’s not really coffee if there’s more sugar than coffee. “Yes I know, but you like your privacy. I know you well enough to know you don’t like it when people just barge in,” Marci responds.

”You barely respect my own boundaries,” [Name] deadpanned and rolled her eyes causing Marci to shrug. “True, but I’m not a bully.” Marci remarked. 

“You kind of are,” [Name] states and stopped her work. “What brings you here today? You miss me already?” She jokes, a small smile evident on face. 

“Actually, yes. I’m on my lunch break and I bought you your favorite. I know what it means when you’re hauled up in your office and it’s not good,” Marci explained, her face betrayed a sense of worry. Her worry wasn’t something that she can easily hide. 

In the moment, [Name] looked at Marci and empathized with her. Words didn’t need to be spoken in the room. It was like a silent conversation between the two, thoughts and feelings of worry and fear speaking from the heart. 

After a few moments of quiet silence, [Name] perked up the sound of her stomach growling. “So what did you bring for lunch?” She muttered softly. 

“Chinese. It’s always your go to.” Marci slid into the chair next to her next and placed the food on the table. “The spring rolls are mine, and no, you’re not having a bite.” Marci said and brought out the carton of fried rice and noodles, alongside two chopsticks. 

“We’re going to talk about it soon than later, [Name].” Marci told [Name], she didn’t have to say anything specific to hint at what she talking about. The air felt calmer and relaxed but there was still a sense of fear lingering. [Name] nodded and began to dig in her food. 

[galaxygolfergirl]

Some of my favorite Helsa fan arts I’ve done throughout the years (dates are in the alt text).

I’ve been thinking about this ship recently, especially its place in the fandom, and I have some thoughts (read below)

Ever since I was roped into this franchise 10 years ago, I think I’ve almost always drawn Hans with a beard. Primarily, it was because I felt that if he ever did show up again in Frozen media, he would be more weathered and unpretentious about his appearance since dropping his facade in the first film. Also because I just thought he would look better with more facial hair (it’s a me thing).

As for Elsa, I’ve never been consistent in drawing her, as it was hard for me to read her animated model, what with her huge eyes and baby nose, as normal, so that’s evolved over the years to a happy medium where it still reads as Elsa, but also reads as human with normal face proportions.

As to why I’ve shipped helsa all these years? Hans and Elsa are two sides of the same coin to me, the main difference being that one of them succumbed to their worst intentions and desires, while the other freed themselves and learned to embrace love and peace in their life. Both were isolated during their childhoods, resulting in years of loneliness, misery, and bitterness; both try to appear poised and reserved, hiding their inner self-loathing; both are intelligent and cunning, both have a definite aggressive streak, and both have interesting chemistry in their very few scenes together. Hans seems to be the only one on equal footing with Elsa who can get through to her throughout the film, mainly for his own ambition, of course, but it intrigued me to see even all these years later how compelling their interactions are.

Why would he sympathetically plead, “don’t be the monster they fear you are,” and stop her from killing those two guards? If he was planning on killing her, why would he go to her and ask if she could stop the winter? Why does he look shocked, almost sad when she tells him that she can’t, like he’s regretting having to kill her? It’s moments like these that paint these characters with more nuance than meets the eye.

I’ve always thought after the first movie, there was definitely potential for a more nuanced and interesting story if Hans were to return. Not simply for revenge, but rather an “enemy of my enemy is my friend” situation, where Frohana would have to work with Hans somehow to fend off an invading force or adversary, like the Southern Isles, to stick it to his family. He and Elsa would be adversarial, for sure, but through forced cooperation, they could open up and become more vulnerable with one another. The amount of angst and turmoil over their feelings for one another would be doubly engrossing. The drama would be incredible.

Now listen: I don’t really expect any of that to happen. I got off the Helsa or die party bus years ago and I’m just mainly enjoying it as it’s own non-canon concept. Believe me, I would love it if it did happen, god willing and the creek don’t rise. But really, when you get down to it, these are movies marketed at little girls, and I don’t think it would really go that far. It’s not easy to come back from holding a sword over a girl’s head, as quoted by Santino Fontana himself.

I grew up with this fandom, I started all the way back in middle school 10 years ago, and this has been a definite learning experience for me in separating the extrapolated world of fan-fiction and the reality of a pg animated musical. I’ve grown up and my expectations are different, and now I understand that canon doesn’t mean shit. I beg, do not take any of this seriously. Just because it has the Disney trademark slapped on it does not mean it’s the end all be all of a story. Stories are fluid things that adapt and evolve in each of the hands they pass through. No one interpretation of a story or a character or a relationship has to be “the right one,” and not every character has to sit on a black and white scale of moral dichotomy, there are always shades of gray.

I’m not saying all of this to be deep about a ship between a Disney princess and a Disney villain that I got into when I was 13, believe I know it’s not that deep. I’m saying this because I’ve lived through fandom and set myself up with false expectations, only to be disappointed. Hell, I took a break from helsa for a solid 3 years because of how burnt out I was. It’s far too easy to dissociate from the text and treat fanon as canon; you’re just setting yourself up to be disappointed. Just let it be its own thing! Like I said, canon does not mean shit! Don’t take things so seriously! Feel free to tell your own stories!

Anyways, I still love this ship, or at least the version I came up with in my head, because I am a storyteller, and I saw potential in these two that could be realized through other means. It doesn’t matter to me if it’s canon or not. Just enjoy it as it is.

[brandnewfridge]

re: the leaks, but honestly just the entirety of s2

Listen, I really liked the first season. Even though I think it had some pacing issues that could be solved by using that material for two seasons instead of craming everything into just the one, and despite the fact I found it sloppier than GoT in its prime and I disliked the way they were messing with the family trees. I have rewatched it multiple times. I have discussed it extensively with my father and my friends. I waited eagerly for s2.

And despite everything, I am feeling very disenchanted with the writing for this show. I feel like the problems it suffered last season have increased tenfold, and they added some new ones as well. I understand taking liberties from the source material, and in fact I think its part of the point of the show, since its a heavily biased history text with multiple unreliable sources, but I think there's a difference between that and whatever the hell it is that they're doing.

A good example of this, I think, presents itself very early in the season: Blood and Cheese.

I think having it come from Daemon and a "misunderstanding" is a good idea. Specially with the way it was treated after the fact: the conversation with Rhaenyra, how the other lords + Alys treat Daemon in the Riverlands, etc. It also makes sense that it would be portrayed in F&B the way that it was. However, how they adapted it pales in comparison with what actually happened in the book, which I think makes Halaena's character arc suffer in turn. I think this happened because they didn't show Maelor in the first season and they didn't want to add him in now? Even though I think he wouldnt be that difficult to introduce, and the audience would be able to accept his existence quickly, as Aegon's and Halaena's children weren't discussed that much in the first place. I'm not even sure they're mentioned by name in s1. And also, they're fine with giving a similar treatment to Daeron? Which I think it's strange, since the bulk of relevant characters in the conflict is mainly comprised of Viserys' children, and the complete absence, even in mention, even in passing, of one of them just to namedrop him in s2 is much more jarring than just, showing Jahaera playing with Maelor when Aegon comes in asking for Jahaerys. I don't know.

This is to say, it's not that I'm a book purist and dislike every single new thing they add. I like that the source material gives the adaptation room to breathe, and some of these new additions I do enjoy, at least in theory if not in practice. But they're making very strange changes, to characters, to plotlines, to family trees. The whole Rhaena/Nettles issue, for example.

A point that one of my friends has made is that oftentimes they treat the time that has passed between the airing of s1 and s2 as the time it has passed in-universe, which is very much decidedly not the same. There have been a very busy couple of weeks (as stated by Alicent in that one conversation with Larys in 02x04) in universe, and I think they're not giving the incredibly important things that have happened enough room to breathe per se. If it was time that they worried about, why shorten the season to eight episodes instead of the original ten the first season posessed? While simultaneously adding new plotlines or scenes like the Alicole affair, Daemon getting the Spirit Halloween experience at Harrenhall, or Rhaenyra going to KL to see Alicent, or Alicent frolicking in the woods. I have nothing against these things per se, I think they could add a lot to the story, the characters and their tragedy, but if I'm being honest I'd rather they used some of that runtime differently. It's like they want to stretch this show for as many seasons as they can but they also want to get to the next cool thing as soon as possible while the last one is still happening.

GoT started to shorten the number of episodes in s7.

GRRM has stated in his blog that he will not be attending the writers room for s3.

It's just a shame. Just a damn shame.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

So I know Representation came out today. And any good fan would wait a week before reviewing it as we still have episode 23 to watch.

GOOD THING IM A DEGENERATE

Gale Reviews: ML Season 5 episode 24 Representation

spoilers below

-So as expected, Chloé didnt stay mayor long. But Apparently Ms.Bustier is running for Mayor and might win

-Oh its the Fencing teacher/ guy who was Darkblade. Well clearly Ms.Bustier is going to win

-And Adrien and Kagami are a power couple? But Adrien is watching the news report while they are in London. Something seems VERY off

-Ah, Gabriel is behind it. And Adrien HATES it.

-"By letting your father decide your life and selling your story through a fake narrative as usual." DAMN Plagg holds no punches

-Plagg appologized though.

-Kagami is also pissed about it

-HEY ITS FELIX/ARGOS

-Wait ... is that really my chaotic son? HEARTS ON WINDOWS.

-Thats adorable, WTF

-Okay so THEY got some development.

-Adrien deciding to just say f*** it. He is heading to paris and Telling Marinette he's chat noir!

-Marinette back in paris looks miserable. Poor baby girl. Also its a lovely dress.

-Marinette has been crying. I am going to kill Gabriel

-Marinette being strong for her friends to enjoy this dance. Thats really big of her.

-Unfortunately, Spotlight.

-Wait, how did Argos and Kagami get to Paris BEFORE Astrochat? Unless they left much earlier but even then. My bet is Argos made a sentimonster that would warp them places... but that seems like BS.

-KAGAMI KNOWS MARINETTE IS LADYBUG?! Since perfection. Damn.

-KAGAMI TOLD FELIX!?!?!?! FELIX?!?!?! Okay I am a bit salty about that

-OH S***! THEY KISSED. The Feligami stans are Eating today.

-Felix is dressed like Adrien? Oh I do not like where this seems to be going.

-And Marinette thought she saw Adrien and wants to go after him while her friends are thanking her for everything she's done. Way to ruin a good moment FELIX you ass!

-Side note, WHY is Marinette the only one in a dress? Like its a dance? Why couldnt everyone Have dressed up? Seriously, I know outfit renders are expensive. DID THE KITCHEN COST THAT MUCH?

-Marinette avoiding the Lesbian bee and accidentally interrupting the Bi artist and writer. Sure is Pride month in Paris.

-Okay this is just cruel. Marinette thinks she is having a break down over this. Side note. WHY ISNT ADRIEN ACTUALLY HERE YET? HE IS ASTROCHAT!

-Alya and Nino trying to comfort her. But she aint listening.

-Adrien and Kagami escaped and the parents are pissed

-Oh no Nathalie looks really bad right now. Poor thing. All she can do is watch videos of her true love Emilie

-He took the ring back, guess now that Nathalie is too weak to fight him. Which really brings up the question, WHAT HAPPENED in the last episode that Nathalie took such a turn.

-Gabriel is being a d*** as usual

-Nightormentor sounds like a cool name. And while I thought the color scheme is weird... its probably the best akumatized form Gabriel has taken. Sad but true

-AND OF COURSE RIGHT AS SHE LEAVES ASTROCAT ARRIVES. I know its plot convenience but thats bull s***

-"His father CANT have that much control of him" Oh if only you knew Nino

-And BOOM! Gabriel the bitch agreste arrives

-I am liking Rose so much recently. She is calling out EVERYONE

-So he basically has the powers of Sandboy mixed with Darkerowl

-the guy has the power to make you experience VERY intrusive thoughts. That is evil

-Chat noir is like "Hey ladybug gonna go beat up my father text me later"

-Dude Felix must be an Olympic speed walker

-Marinette is basically being nightormented without that bastard even being here. Felix, Kagami this is just a jerk move.

Duusu: "This is so sad" Felix: "Dont worry its for Our happy ending" Duusu: F*** yea lets keep it up

-Oh he made a sentimonster... wait. I know its not human but like a sentimonster MAKING sentimonsters. Feels even more f***ed up

-THEY ARE DOING A F***ING PLAY FOR HER!?

-OH MY GOSH! ITS THE STORY OF EMILIE AND AMELIE!

-Meanwhile, Chat noir is working through his daddy issues.

-Back to the play

-Oh this is interesting.

-Oh and we find out Felix's dad was a rich Cowboy. But also an asshole. (Oh right, this is a French Cartoon, thats why American's suck in this)

-Back to Adrien fighting his father

-This is Cathartic watching Chat noir beat Gabriel's ASS

-HE WAS GOING TO CATACLYSM HIS DAD! Adrien, my boy. Patricide adrien? Well Monarch is still alive, so I guess you think it wouldnt kill him. BTW, Monarch should have had ptsd from that.

-And Chat noir got hit, so his worst fear is... and cuts back to the play

-Oh the twins were infertile. Emilie returned to try and get medical help but still nothing.

-The peacock, that was the sentimonster reference

-Oh so THATS how Gabriel got Gorilla to guard adrien.

-Also yea, any doubt that they arent sentimonsters is dead now.

-ITS CHAT BLANC WITH BLUE HAIR!?

-Oh s*** that is f***ed up.

-"It will end if you give me your miraculous"

-"Take it." ADRIEN NO!

-Oh so thats why Felix's dad was an a**hole. Okay I will give this credit. That is something.

-Welp this explains why Felix might be a sociopath

-Felix revealing why he did what he did

-THE RESISTANCE! COMING IN CLUTCH

-THE TRAY!

-ALYA JUMPED ON HIS BACK.

-They got the akuma in a jar.

-Wait, Chat noir defeated an akuma without Ladybug. (sure he had outside help, but Ladybug has done that too). Good on him

-WELL S*** THAT WAS TRIPPY.

-Felix and Kagami asked for Marinette's help. so was that all the sentimonster doing so? I am lost

-Okay so, I may not LIKE exactly how they went about it. But I cant really hate them for what they did. They are just kids that want to pick someone they trust.

-Oh s***, Ladybug never cast miraculous cure. So Adrien has some perminant trauma from the fight with Nightormentor. He still sees the antichat visions (its not chat blanc, and its just reverse color pallet)

-Chat noir left. before he could tell her. Cause the nightmare messed with him

-WAIT DID TOMOE AND GABRIEL JUST LOCK THEIR CHILDREN IN STERILE ROOMS? WTF!

_________________________________________________________

Okay! This episode was A LOT.

Well there is no denying Sentimonster theory. Its confirmed. Its done. 100% GUARANTEE NO MONEY BACK.

It did explain a LOT about Felix and Adrien.

So I am still iffy on how it was handled.

Now this DOES NOT justify Felix's Actions. He was still an a**hole. And Kagami shouldnt have told Felix. Marinette is Ladybug. That was NOT her secret to tell.

BUT the play that explained what happened was very well done. It explained a LOT about the Graham de Vanily family and Felix's a**hole father.

I will say that I hated how tortured Marinette was during this. Felix and Kagami could have done something less cruel to lure her there.

I also greatly enjoyed Chat noir vs Nightormentor. very good catharsis and we have Adrien going through some additional mental trauma, inflicted by his father (I wouldnt call it Ironic, more of EXPECTED)

I give it 7.5/10

I will say its the most I have enjoyed the second half of this season since Emotion.

[nesiacha]

Babeuf’s Thoughts on Danton According to Victor Daline

Due to a persistent bug in my computer, which happens daily, I was unable to fully decrypt the text, so I'm sending the link in case you're interested. Please note that this post is incomplete.

Victor Daline highlights an unfinished letter from Babeuf to Danton that he found in the works of Albert Mathiez. "Valiant Danton! I address you, the most fearless supporter of liberty; the feelings that belong to slavery were not created for a citizen as pure as you!" "Would you have the glory of becoming a new Antoine, calling Brutus to mind? Oh, my friend, this is all too true. Chains threaten Rome, and you sleep! Have you ceased to be Danton? I prefer to believe that this name, covered in glory, will always remain so. Great courage appears during great events! The moment demands a great strength of soul, capable of resisting all blows. I believe only yours is capable of this. My friend, my brother, the fatherland is on the edge of the abyss. They want to dissolve the districts! Don’t you see in this dissolution the complete destruction of democracy? Yes, who will defend our rights? As a great publicist recently said: 'Who will prevent the terrible consequences of despotism born from the ruins of the old'? Our municipal leaders will become cowardly despots who will rule over us with iron scepters. The police are too despotic a force not to raise suspicions. Answer me! To which court can oppressed citizens address their complaints? Before which court will they denounce the abuses of power and its foundations if the districts do not stand watch? It is not enough, courageous defenders of a just cause, it is not enough!..."

These letters are difficult to date. Mathiez argues that it was written in February 1793, as he bases his argument on the content of the letter, which discusses the dissolution of the districts. He therefore assumes that it relates to Condorcet’s proposed constitution, and that the letter was written following Danton's return from Paris in 1793.

However, Victor Daline contests this point: Babeuf, who was used to being in and out of prison from the Revolution until his death, had just escaped new legal proceedings and simply did not have time to study Condorcet’s proposal. Babeuf was more focused on the issue of property, the Constitution of 1793, and not Condorcet’s proposal or the districts. Moreover, 1793 was a very critical period for Danton. Prior to this, he failed to account for the finances of the Ministry of Justice, and then came the Dumouriez affair. He was losing credibility on several fronts, although he still maintained some influence.

Victor Daline believes that this unfinished letter is more likely from 1790, during the period when the Cordeliers clashed with people like La Fayette and Bailly. This was a time when Babeuf took advantage of the experience of the Parisian districts in his interventions against the oligarchic power of the municipality. It was during this time that Babeuf spoke about the democratic principles of the organization of the districts in Paris. Daline provides an excerpt from the text: "When, following the conflict between the municipality and the Cordeliers district, which had taken Marat under its protection in December 1789-January 1790, the question of the dissolution of the districts arose, Babeuf energetically advocated for their preservation." Interestingly, even while in prison during this period, Babeuf published a journal and produced four issues, titled "Le Journal de la Confédération." In this journal, his ideas align with those expressed to Danton. The phrase "They want to dissolve the districts!" echoes a statement from Babeuf's journal: "And they would dissolve the Districts!!! Frenchmen!" This serves as evidence that his thoughts date back to 1790.

It was also the period when Danton enjoyed great popularity among the Cordeliers (this was not yet the winter of 1793 when the "stars" of this Cordelier club were Chaumette, Hébert, Momoro, Ronsin, Vincent, etc.). Furthermore, here is what Babeuf wrote on December 26, 1790: "It is according to these principles that several of the best patriots of the Empire, who, like me, have been decreed by corrupt and aristocratic tribunals, have not been excluded from their rights as citizens. Monsieur Danton, President of the District of the Cordeliers, decreed by the infamous Chatelet, remains President of the District of the Cordeliers and continues to adorn the most civic and esteemed Assemblies of the Capital." I agree with Daline that Babeuf is referring to the Danton of 1790 and not the one Mathiez describes from 1793. However, I have no other sources regarding Danton's opinion during other years.

Sources:

https://www.jstor.org/stable/41925466

[hanasnx]

tw vent below. death of a friend

today would’ve been my best friend’s twenty fourth birthday. i remember when i heard she was in the hospital. and how my busy schedule prevented me from getting out there to visit. i thought it was going to be a routine thing, and she’d be out in a day. she stayed off her phone for the most part, but we still played games like eight ball. and she thanked me for keeping her company.

i remember the day i got the call while i was on the way to take my dog to the vet. my dog was severely sick, my job was up my ass, and when i told them i’d be late, i had no idea the news i was going to receive an hour later.

jay had passed away. and i never thought it would happen. i was maybe nineteen years old, having had this friend for my high school years and on, i had expected to grow old together. for a chunk of my life jay was more than an important person and dear friend to me, she was part of my family. birthdays, christmases, every hang out and every party, we were together. jay introduced me to my friend group that became part of that family and then my eventual roommates.

she opened up so many doors for me, but she also taught me a whole lot about being a person. about having an identity. about being real. i still see galaxy patterned items and think of jay first, i see her in crystals and wood beads and i still smell her shampoo. i eat what she would’ve eaten on her birthday, what we would’ve shared. i get boba and i try to get pho and i think it’s for her too.

i remember the emptiness in my grandfather’s eyes when i told him she died from covid-19 as he’d gone on and on about how its not a real thing and no one needs to wear a mask. my friend, my age, had died from it. and he didn’t even say sorry.

i remember my brother told me that he didn’t even recall my loss, even though he was one of the first people i confided in about it.

i remember my mom came to the funeral with me when i wasn’t strong enough to go alone. my mom who had seen my journey with jay up until the end. my mom who cried hearing jay’s mom sob into the shoulder of her sister. my mom who held my hand until it was my turn to speak.

i remember my boyfriend supported me through it all even though we had only been dating four months. he didn’t run scared when i went through one of my worst experiences, he held me through it and showed me i could trust him through genuine despair. through hopeless depression. through bone aching cries.

i cant remember the last time i got to hang out with jay, but i remember the last time i saw her. and how it was in passing, and how we yelled at each other from far away about how we were gonna make plans, that i missed her. and then the last time we spoke was over text. i didn’t even get to see her in the hospital.

i thought working today or acting like everything was cool or normal would help. i thought staying busy would mean i could avoid her birthday while spending appropriate time to celebrate it later, but grief is not on a schedule, and i regretted taking a shift. i was spacey, and ill-equipped to handle fast pacing. i was prone to irritation and impatience. and as soon as i got to the safety of my home i broke. my friend is dead. i’ve seen her urn. the body i hugged isn’t here anymore even though i can still feel the shape of her in my arms.

she never got to live on her own like she wanted to, she never got a place to be herself like she wanted to, she never got to be free like she wanted to. maybe now, after shes passed, shes gotten the peace that she deserved.

my favorite thing about her was how much we’d laugh. i experienced pure joy when i was with jay, and she was my first real friend. i don’t think there will ever be a time in my life when she isn’t with me. happy birthday jay.

[sstardustt3]

-akira kurusu (joker) headcannons-

First of all, THEATER KID. 

You simply can not tell me that he is not an overdramatic theater kid who does the most at all times, especially when he was a kid.

But this led him to be seen as “odd” and outcasted by the people around him in the which made him extremely lonely, he wasn’t bullied but he didn’t have any friends 

Because of this he kinda closed himself off to fit more into the societal norms and not be seen as strange which is why he’s so quiet and keeps to himself all the time 

Which made him partially excited to go to shibuya because despite it being a pretty shitty situation, being on probation and arrested for something that wasn’t even his fault, he thought that maybe in the big city he’ll find some people that won’t think he’s weird and can open up to which he ended up getting with the thieves  but his hope was only temporarily diminished with his record being leaked

Holy fuck that was long but, moving on, I think he has a very poor relationship with his parents, especially after being convicted of assault.

I don’t think his parents hate him by any means but they’re definitely neglectful based on the fact joker doesn’t get a single call, text, or a letter from them

What i personally think is that his parents are the type of parents to do the bare minimum and do nothing else for him

In a sense his parents sort of gave up on him because of his “eccentric”  behavior and him getting arrested might have solififed that for that for them and even if not they’re definitely not on his side when it comes to the whole assault thing which could be why they never contact him

Okay the last two were pretty angsty but moving on,

He has like, zero experience with girls and he’s the most oblivious mf ever

And because he wasn’t really popular at his old school (for the aforementioned reasons) he got ZERO bitches, none, cero.

 This is actually another headcanon that i really don’t have an explanation for but when he moved way more girls started liking him because of people thinking he was this bad boy and he had NO idea how to deal with that

Like for a while he just thought people were just being weirdly nice to him

Like he is the type of guy who unintentionally flirty like just natural charisma with looks

Like you have to be insanely obvious for him to even take a hint

Adding onto the headcanon that you have to be insanely obvious to get him to notice that you like him, once he does realize  that you like him like one of two things is going to happen:

One, if your not that close than he has no idea what to do about that and he’s just slightly more awkward than usual

But two, if you are that close, he is BOLD. despite he is not knowing how to flirt for shit he is still charming enough that his horrible attempts at flirting and teasing somehow work

Because he has no cannon birthday other than the year he is born (2000) my personal thought is that he’s born on valentines day, there’s no elaboration for this one just a gut feeling

I feel like he has a vivid imagination of scenarios 

Like for example he can imagine an entire plot for a musical at three am and exactly how it would go

Morgana and sojiro have frequently told him to shut up and go to bed

Also he has insomnia. I just felt like I should throw that into there.

Him, sojiro, and futaba have movie nights once a weekend and ninety percent of the time it’ll be a horror, old movies, or a studio ghibli movie

Texas chainsaw massacre, kill bill, sadako vs kayako, jacobs ladder, don’t look up, my neighbor totoro, spirted away, sailor moon r, ponyo, etc

60 precent of the time futaba picks the movie

I have no explanation for this one but him in the metaverse is very much christian borle coded in a way i can’t explain i swear (please i beg of you listen to hard to be a bard from something rotten its so good)

.

[florenceisfalling]

just a disclaimer regarding a recent barrage of false accusations with me bc ive decided im tired of not defending myself

my ex has posted a lot of things, these are the ones i can remember (me looking at her blog is bad for the both of us, so im not going to check if i missed anything)

i did not have sex with anybody else

i also did not kiss anybody else, or anything she could have been implying re: any "risk" of illness

i did not get into an argument with her that led to her hospitalization. when speaking to her other partner (the one she called X), she stated that she JUST had a nightmare.

she did not actually attempt, and was not in any physical danger after a small injury; she went to work the next day and didn't get hospitalized until after she talked to an authority about how she worried she MIGHT hurt herself worse. <- not downplaying what actually happened, it was really tough, but she is lying about it

X did not tell her "some" of the truth. they told her everything, and she agreed for months before now.

i did not quote her "asking [me] to stop cheating" as an "unfair request". i quoted her referring to me as the dehumanizing phrase "public property," which was said to me when i was not doing anything romantic or sexual with other people. this was in a song that spoke of her positively, which she openly admitted to misunderstanding once i explained it to her.

i do not owe her money. i offered some to be helpful while we were still aiming for friendship, and i was begging her not to take anything out on X, but she is now calling my loved ones to try to convince them that i have some actual debt to her. X ALSO doesnt owe her money for the trip, because she promised repeatedly while planning process that they would not have to pay her back if they broke up/things went wrong

i did not post anyone in a romantic context other than her. she was told that i did by someone who tried to convince her to cheat on me last year. additionally, when asked to take down the posts, i did, even though they were my friends just doing school stuff

i also did not plan the road trip the way she talks about it. i wanted to visit her as a priority and also visit at least 5 of my friends as a little buddy trip. this didn't actually happen, i just visited her.

once again reiterating: i did not have sex with anybody other than her

i never called her "clocky," she probably assumed this post (and other posts i made about my self-identified "clocky" transfem friends online, who were experiencing harassment post-p.redstrogen situation) was about her somehow. she is not transfem; trying to make transfem bottom surgery experiences or anything else into "experiences [she] had" is disingenuous. she's a femme woman, i validated and argued for her visible and personal femininity; if i failed in some regards, that is my bad. but telling a trans person in a t4t relationship that they need to "get help" because you used to feel jealous about them uplifting tgirls is just transphobic. acting like its a defense of transfems is even worse. and claiming my love for tgirls is solely a sexual, comptop, anti-surgery thing is especially frustrating when she repeatedly failed to accept that i do top and want a phalloplasty.

i never threatened her, nor did i talk about "gathering information on her." all i said was that, in the same way i could tell when her ex was stalking me, i might see if she was block evading me, on a post that she only could have seen if she was block evading me

i didn't publicly air out my side through that song or through vent posts. i haven't taken down any of my vent posts, you can look through them, many of them had nothing to do with her and all of them avoided details.

i also did not orchestrate a fucking drive-by shooting. i never thought i'd have to clarify this . she also presumably doesn't actually believe i did, since she still texts my roommate pictures of squirrels, which isn't "dealing with accomplices to murder schemes" behavior

i did not pressure X into anything, send her messages about how they weren't compatible, convince them of that, or get between them and her. i was the one trying to convince them to go visit her and make the flight, trying to help her out, but they couldn't because they were literally worried sick.

i wasn't even in a real relationship with her when X was supposed to go on that trip; she wanted to split up and even had my number muted but insisted that i still follow "rules" and call her my fiancee until she was ready to let me go

i did not say she "got owned" and my friends did not behave as a public "echochamber"; none of my friends talked with me about it except in private conversations she had no exposure to

i did not treat her like a sexual object. part of the issue with her false accusations about my sex life is that i was so detached from my sexuality from the entirety of spring break until the end of august that i started identifying as ace for a period. during this time, she yelled at me after i was too busy crying to have sex with her. over the summer i started cutting recreationally, but was careful not to do it in a bad mood to avoid habit-forming; during a serious argument she guilt tripped about how i hadn't yet carved her initials into my thigh before i was ready. she unsafely/improperly tried to choke me without discussing it beforehand, admitting that she looked up the right way a while ago but didn't remember. serious mental health struggles for me were reduced to being obstacles for my sexuality. i cannot emphasize enough how objectifying it feels from my end to have a semester of incredibly tough friendship situations boiled down to "oh you must be having sex with other people," followed by constant sexual bids for connection to fix the relationship that often failed to respect notions of enthusiastic consent.

all of the things i did do, are by her own definition, not sex, were equivalent to what she did with her own friends during our relationship, and went completely unaddressed by her anyway, so i am not even going to bother defending myself on those when she'd rather make up new accusations baselessly

in the imaginary world where i did have sex with other people, that does not excuse the cornering me by regularly threatening suicide, the belittling me for not "centering" her on two separate occasions where my friends DID attempt suicide and i was called for help (during one of these situations she vent posted about me not talking to her while i was literally writing statements ordered by campus police), the vivid descriptions to my face of how badly she wanted to physically hurt me and my loved ones, the direct ableism as well as vitriol and unwanted sexual comments towards my alters, the biphobia and transmisogyny rampant in claiming my love for transfems has anything to do with "girlcock," her telling me to my face that me giving her less attention again would be "worse" to her than me dying gruesomely, the sexual harassment she now is doing in the form of posting details and lies about my sex life to her public blogs as revenge, and so on.

lastly, any claims that she has to post publicly to get my attention aren't true. she does still contact me. she unblocked me to send and unsend me messages before.

i'm glad she's trying to live a more fulfilling life now, and i am too; im in therapy, in better communication with family, etc. but things are way out of hand and i cannot keep prioritizing her peace over mine when i am not hers anymore.

this is NOT a callout post, i do not want this to circulate, i do not want anyone to contact her, i want people to have a disclaimer on ME before making assumptions so here it is. anyone i see adding her name to this post, spreading it, sharing it with her, etc is getting blocked immediately. this doesn't even scratch the surface of what went wrong or what happened throughout our relationship, but it at least addresses the immediate accusations. this post is not directed at her, its directed at people who approach me about her, and i have no interest in arguing with her anymore- i want her to be able to move on and be happy, very, very far away from me.

[lollytea]

Up until a month back I liked a guy. And I really liked him. But I found out he didn't like me back. I was really upset, but I didn't want to hold it against him, but then I found out he had a reputation of being a player (which, at our age of 14 is flirtatiously texting girls and then just. Ghosting them).

And I felt really upset. I began to question if he even saw me as a friend, and whether the way he texted me was even friendly. What if he secretly loathed me and was just doing this to get a kick out of it? What if he knew about my feelings and they were just a joke to him?

I wanted to cry, but I told my friends and my sister I was okay. But I wanted to scream. Its not my fault I was born ugly. It's not my fault my face makes me unlovable. And even though I wanted to distance myself from him I felt some sort of perverse pleasure every time he did something embarrassing in front of every one.) And that's when I think it hit me.

That's why I'm unlovable. I am unlovable because I'm a terrible person. My friends tried to comfort me saying that he's a shitty person who can't see my beauty/cuteness, but friends are obligated to say that. I wanted to believe them because they're all so beautiful, and they would never lie to me because they love me. But they deserve a better friend than me.

I want to cry because I want to experience having a whirlwind romance, and falling in love. I also know I'll probably never have that.

And AGH I feel so upset. Because all my life I've known I was ugly. But when this guy showed me attention, was nice to me, it made me feel special. Made me feel like I was having my own romance.

I hate it I hate it I hate it. I hate that I can't be loved, I hate my face, I hate myself for feeling these things. Last year when I suspected I began liking him, I told myself not to fall too deep, and here I am, ranting to you on tumblr dot com.

Lollytea, I love your writing and I love your posts. I love how confident you are of yourself. I'm very sorry for ranting in your inbox about my shitty love life, if this makes you uncomfortable, please delete it. But if you don't, I genuinely would like some encouragement. That my time for my own romance will come. That I will learn to love this face.

You're not unlovable. You're just 14. It just happens that being 14 feels a lot like being chronically unlovable. But no, that is not actually the case.

Maybe you've heard this a lot. And I imagine that it must be frustrating to listen to. That being a teenager just means your emotions are bigger and more intense than they will ever be in your entire life, so they're irrational and silly.

That's not the case either. Your feelings matter. And they're worth being listened to. But I do need you to keep in mind that the age range you're in right now is one of the most difficult periods of time that a human being will ever go through. Being a teenager is very hard. Being an adult is hard too. But me and every adult I've ever met would not trade it for being 14 again. No way in hell.

It does severely influence how you see yourself and why your emotions feel so strong and messy and all over the place. But I assure you that you're doing a fantastic job for a person in your situation. It's rough and you're getting through it and I'm proud of you.

Firstly, I'm going to say this quite bluntly but dont take it as me insulting them. Most of the boys in your class probably aren't that smart. And they are the absolute worst people to be seeking validation from. I promise that their opinion of you is not worth worrying about because they are...stupid, frankly. They won't be stupid forever. Probably. But being 14 is a weird age for boys too and they're quite mean for a while before they mature and chill tf out. Please try not to let it get to you if one of them doesn't like you romantically. I promise you it is not remotely a big deal. None of them have any idea how to be good boyfriends yet anyway.

No, you're not unlovable for occasionally having spiteful little thoughts about somebody who was mean to you. Everybody has those every once in a while. As long as you maintain some self-awareness and don't let cruelty consume your whole brain, having a few mean thoughts doesn't make you a terrible person. What WOULD make you a terrible person is external terrible behaviour. It's your actions that matter. So just be kind, alright? Be kind to your friends. Ignore the people you don't like but be civil. Don't hurt anyone. If you stick to all of this, you're golden. Considering that you already seem so self-critical of being a bit bitchy inside your own head, I think that's a promising sign than you won't do anything worse than that. I hope so anyway. Be kind, that's all you can do. Your friends love you. If you put your all into loving them in return, then you can have something so special.

You're not ugly, you're 14. Sorry, I'm getting a bit repetitive but I think it's relevant information to this whole situation. At the age you're at, your face is probably in this weird transitional period between child and adult so maybe that's why it might look "uglier" than usual to you. It might last a few more years but it won't look like that forever. I assure you that your face is beautiful because it's doing exactly what it's supposed to do. It's alright if you've felt ugly your whole life. The way you look at your own face is way more personal than the way you look at other people's faces. We don't really notice the flaws on others the way we notice our own. We're wired weird like that.

All I can say is hang tight. If you don't like your face then please try not to let it upset you that much. Your face hasn't fully developed yet. For the time being, you look exactly the way you're supposed to look and you're perfect. Let's see how it looks in a few years before we make any rash decisions about it being as ugly as you think it is.

Don't be hasty in the belief that you'll never find love and romance. I assure you that the age you're at is the absolute worst time to get a boyfriend and its perfectly okay if you don't experience it for another while. It's normal. You're fine. It's okay.

I know you want it. I know it sounds nice. And I promise that if its important to you, once you're older and the people you're interested in are a little smarter, you will have it.

I'm serious when I say that for the time being, focus on being a good friend. Focus on school. Focus on your own physical and mental health. Focus on your hobbies. Being wanted by 14 year old boys won't mean shit in the long run.

Things will be okay. You talk so much about how you'll be alone for the rest of your life. But your life has only just begun and you hardly know who you are yet. It's impossible to tell what will happen in the coming years. I promise that you'll be okay.

I know you came for me for reassurance but from that last paragraphs, I'm sure you're already smart enough to know the things I've told you. But I imagine that you just needed a second opinion. Take care, love.