#but there’s a support group specifically for this if you would like to join

[lotties-ashwagandha]

can we have yj OFFERINGS hcs like what happens after the boomshakalala do they just share r! or what and if they do then how is r with each of them

OFFERINGS (headcanon edition)

part two coming soon where this will actually become a fic BUT here are my thoughts. if you haven’t read offerings, or ‘the big yj fic’ as I referred to it for weeks before posting, then read it here :) im designating myself as a councilwoman of yellowjackets polyamory, who is joining my council???

after the fic ends and we’ve all done the dirty pickle dance barnacle boogie we do share bc sharing is caring! we get stuck in a battle of who’s got custody of this freaky little weed selling sexy suburbanite (sorry im ace I have to be silly about this).

you find a way to split your time between everyone, but since they’re all open to the giant polyamorous mess as well, you end up grouping up a little. you still go spend nights with lottie and nat, and sometimes taissa and van join, but it becomes something more serious instead of just fucking.

in a way, you becoming a criminal is not just a turn on but it’s also a weird sort of initiation into the yellowjackets trauma club. you all have things on each other, you all know secrets about each other that would do serious damage if let into the public eye and so they feel more comfortable knowing they’ve got as much dirt on you as you have on them. they all still hold the blackmail against you a little but specifically during sex bc where’s the fun in everything if they can’t shame you for it.

you go on dates with shauna and melissa SEPARATELY. the others are happy for group activities but the beef is too serious and any time you’re stuck with shauna and melissa together it either ends up in hate sex with you stuck in the middle (which of course is the ideal) or everyone’s too snippy and not in the fun sexy way.

who you’re with at any given time depends on what you want out of it. spending time with tai and van is more going out to expensive restaurants, nights out, going and doing something. spending time at the wellness center is more relaxing nights in, getting high if you’d like, quickies in the sharing shack. melissa has an anxiety attack trying to hide you from her wife one night at home and shoves you into the pantry.

oh also! sneaking around with shauna. because she’s still married even though she’s sneaking around with you and everyone except for misty whose aroace ass is very very much judging all of you from afar (but is ultimately supportive as long as you don’t commit any more crimes). you all actually do convince jeff that you’ve started a book club because with eight of you together (is that right? I can’t count) it’s convincing enough and it gets jeff out of the house so that if you ever want to gather around and…

no taglist this time bc google is being weird but I will put it text time :) LOVE YOU

[catofoldstones]

good morning to Jon “flirts with a girl at her own wedding” Snow and Jon “flirts with a girl at her own wedding that he arranged specifically for political manoeuvre” Snow only. Flirtboy of all times truly.

[humanityinahandbag]

I'd like to tell you all a story about my grandmother.

My grandparents raised their children, four girls (one of them my mother), to be fighters. My aunts marched in Washington for women's rights with babies strapped to their chests and like to joke that all of the grandchildren who came from that line (including myself) were born with picket signs in their hands.

But it started with my grandparents. They fought hard for what they believed in. They marched against Vietnam. They marched for Martin Luther King. They marched for women's rights. They marched for a better future.

But let's talk specifically about my grandmother for a moment.

My grandmother unfortunately passed away in 2016. She had to watch the first Trump election and did so knowing that it would probably be the last election she'd ever see. And there is some argument there that she could have given in to fear and defeatism. She could have decided none of it was worth it, and she could have decided that fascism had won and the world was over.

But she did something else instead.

To give some context, my grandparents had friends who were Republicans. I say were, because they shifted from the normal Republican towards the MAGA Republican we see today. And despite a very clear message from my family about how we felt, they were more than ready to still come to the funeral as if everything was normal. Like their beliefs were normal. Like they were welcome to celebrate someone who had fought so hard for the rights of other people.

These were people who would have absolutely used their rhetoric to scream and shout if they were left out or disinvited.

And so my grandmother, even past her final moments, pulled the most brilliant, petty move I've ever seen.

She'd decided ahead of time that everyone who had known her was more than welcome to attend but that she wanted everyone attending the funeral to donate money. That was the requirement to be invited. And so everyone did just that. There was no talk about what the donations were for, just that they were appreciated. I want to say that the assumption was the money would help pay for funeral expenses and give the family some support while we grieved.

Except that wasn't the case.

Because in those final moments of the funeral, the rabbi stepped forward to thank everyone, and then very cheerfully announced;

"Arlene was so happy to know just how many people were coming to join us here today. She couldn't have been more proud of her family. And I'm sure she would have been elated to see just how much money you all gave today to Planned Parenthood."

When I say that the faces of those people are enshrined in my memory, I mean it. The anger, the devastation, the rage, the betrayal. It was an absolutely gorgeous display of true defeat at the hands of a boss ass old lady who literally fought with her last breath and threw up both middle fingers all the way out the door.

What I'm saying is this.

It is very easy to feel defeated. It is very easy to think that everything is over, and there's nothing left for us to do. It's very easy to say that fascism won, that fear won, that hate won.

But that's only true if you let it be true.

There is always more that we can do. There is a future that is still worth fighting for. And it's more than possible, even when it doesn't seem like it.

And fighting is going to look different every time.

Some days it will look like picket signs in our hands.

Some days it will look like spending time with friends and family and people you love and knowing that you have a community that supports you and your vision of a brighter future.

And some days, it's pulling absolute natural level 20 petty trickster shit even after you've left the world.

Because you can always make an impact and you can always add a little brightness to life, and if that means tricking a group of MAGA idiots into throwing their money behind Planned Parenthood in the middle of your own goddamn funeral then that's what it means.

Keep fighting. People have done it before you. People will continue to do it after you.

And enjoy the little victories.

(Even the petty ones)

[ambrosiagourmet]

I love Izutsumi. She's got a great design, she's a fun addition to the main party, she adds some new tension, and she's honestly one of the reasons I read dungeon meshi in the first place. I mean, "the most cat to ever girl" is an extremely appealing hook to anyone who loves cats and girls (me, I love cats and girls).

However, while I have always liked Izutsumi, I finished the story kind of feeling like I didn't really get her. I felt like I had a decent grasp on her character an character arc (she's a traumatized teen given space to feel safe and open up, and because of that she realizes that she can't grow without letting go of the coping mechanisms she once needed). But I didn't feel like I really understood her role in the story as a whole.

She follows the group of her own accord, after a coincidental meeting and a misunderstanding of what they can do for her. She's never super invested in saving Falin, at least not compared to the rest of the group. Though they do help her escape Maizuru's shackles, and are clearly good for her in general, she doesn't really have a healing Moment with the group the way that Senshi does with the hippogriff soup.

And yet, she gets an entire chapter, the third-to-last chapter, dedicated to exploring her growth and future. She's the one who frames much of the falling action, who lets us check in with everyone. She's the one who helps talk Laios into accepting his role as king. She may join the story part way through, but she is there for most of it. So Izutsumi! What's your deal!?

Well, I think I've come up with an answer, at least for myself, that I really like. Two of them, even! Though they both really work together to form the overall point - Izutsumi is the character that most helps the story face towards the future. Here's why I think that.

So the first of these "ah-ha" moments was when I realized that Izutsumi really is the best supporting evidence for Laios' point about the good things that wouldn't have happened if Falin hadn't died.

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, Izutsumi probably would still be a slave. It was because of Shuro and Laios' parties both being in the dungeon to rescue Falin, as well as Marcille's use of ancient magic in the resurrection, that she got the chance to escape. None of that would have been the case if Falin hadn't died. Shuro wouldn't have separated from the group and joined up with his retainers, Marcille wouldn't have revealed her knowledge of ancient magic, and Izutsumi never would have even met any of them. They are only part of her life because of Falin's death.

Though this isn't explicitly pointed out by Laios or Izutsumi in the scene, I do think you can very much feel the presence of it. For one, when Marcille reflects on the journey and how much it made her realize she didn't want to lose everyone, her relationship with Izutsumi is prominent:

It's the main original group at the top and center, but when you read it right to left, it’s Izutsumi and Marcille who might catch your eye first. And it's specifically Marcille and Izutsumi's relationship on display here, not just Izutsumi's presence in the group in general.

Also, after Laios' statement about how none of their adventure would have happened without Falin dying, it is Izutsumi who gets the final word:

Izutsumi is also the one here who is the most forward-facing. Chilchuck is trying to correct Laios, Senshi is focused on the immediate future, and Izutsumi is talking about her new goal.

And I want to talk about that goal in general as well, because it’s also interesting how it comes up. In that moment, everyone is trying to remind Marcille of her less destructive desires - to eat food, to share it with them, and to meet Chilchuck's family. All of which are previously established, existing desires. When prompted by Chilchuck to join in, however, Izutsumi offers something new:

That's interesting, isn't it? It's kind of funny, of course, to see her rambling on about a completely new thing, her own personal motive, in the middle of everyone working together to reach out to Marcille. Izutsumi doesn't even know who Yaad is! But at the same time, it’s kind of meaningful. Amidst the focus on desires that everyone already had, she adds a completely new one to the mix. It’s even the final bridge that lets Laios reach Marcille.

It is, in fact, even an idea that comes back later to help out another lord of the dungeon. The idea of finding new goals and feeling new desires... this is exactly how Kabru reaches out to Mithrun, after the Winged Lion is gone

So yeah, Izutsumi's presence here, both in what she's actively choosing to say as well as what she represents of the consequences of Falin's death, supports the story's ideas of moving forward. Of accepting the past, and finding new reasons to live.

Which is all really good, and that alone works pretty well as an answer to what Izutsumi's role in the story is.

But oh, oh. There's more. Something I realized after having thought of all this, because I still couldn't let go of the feeling that there was still something I was missing.

And as I reviewed the things I loved about Izutsumi - her sometimes unhealthy ways of coping with trauma, her struggles with isolation, her skill with fighting, her selfishness contrasted with the ways she grows to care for and protect the group, her perpetually guarded nature, born from the seeming impossibility of ever fitting in or finding a safe place to just be herself - I realized something.

Izutsumi...

is a foil to Falin.

Where Falin copes with isolation and trauma by being eternally caring and struggling to say no to people, Izutsumi copes by constantly saying no to everything she can. Falin is often considered selfless, but does have selfish desires that she can’t easily express until a moment of crisis. Izutsumi is delightfully selfish, but chooses to stick by her friends when they need her. They are both transformed, against their will, into partly monstrous hybrids, and they both will have to live with that - there is no undoing what has been done to them.

Falin anchors the group in the past. Izutsumi pulls them towards the future. Neither would find freedom without the other - it is Falin's death that leads to Izutsumi joining the party, and likewise, it is Izutsumi who inspires the realization of how they can save Falin.

And Falin is her future, as much as Izutsumi is Falin's. Both learn to be a little more like each other, even though they never meet. Falin gets a little more selfish. Izutsumi gets a little more willing to bend.

In this context, I feel like I have finally started to understand just how important Izutsumi is to the story. She is a proof that they cannot just go back, and she is a clawed, happy-to-scratch-anyone-who-pisses-her-off reminder, at that. In any conversation about what the group wishes would have happened with Falin, she cannot be ignored or brushed aside.

She is a reminder that, even in the midst of a tragedy so big it feels like a shadow you will never escape, you have yet to met all the people you will love. Hell, some of those people might even be catgirls. We should all be so lucky.

[minghaoes]

opposites attract | ot13 headcanons

pairing: ot13 x gn!reader (individual headcanons)

request: what if the reader and seventeen members have the opposite kind of personality. like yk jun is such a tsundere sometimes, but his gf is always clingy too him. lol. like that.

wc: 1k | tags: headcanons!, mention of "princess treatment" in cheols but in a gn way, just some thoughts i had, nothing too specific to mention here ??, maybe a bit stereotypical but oh well

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i decided to turn this into headcanons instead of a smau because i wasn't sure how to do this differently :") i hope you like it !!

join my taglist here ! !

knight in shining armor ↔ royalty - seungcheol, joshua, vernon, chan

these four like to take care of their partners, all in one way or another. cheol is protective, joshua and chan are gentle, and vernon is casual. they all have a very caring and nurturing nature and therefore, all three of them simply love taking care of and spoiling their partners. the "opposite" of this would be them dating someone who likes to be pampered. someone who's maybe the youngest in their family, someone who loves (and to a certain extent expects/craves) a princess treatment. seungcheol would do it in a "typical" way. think opening jars, doing all the heavy work around the house, simply taking up upon chores that would be physically demanding. joshua, on the other hand, would do it in a gentleman way. he'd open the doors for his partner, prepare a lunchbox to take with them to work, and just make sure that their day-to-day life is as easy as possible. similar, chan would do all of this without being asked, too. he'd even keep chapstick or lotion on his person just so he'd be able to offer it to his partner whenever they need something. in addition, he probably likes to carry some sweets around too, just in case they might need a little pick-me-up, too. lastly, vernon would be similar to both, but in a more casual way. he likes to do small things whenever he knows he is needed, but overall, he waits for his partner to ask him. he likes knowing that his partner turns to him when they need help and he's always more than ready to do it. acts of service is very big for all three of them, so the opposite of this would be someone whose love language is exactly that.

silly ↔ mature - jeonghan, soonyoung, seungkwan

this trio is a little childish: the "opposites attract" trope for them would be dating someone who's mature and more stern to give them a broader view on life as a whole. conversely, they would support their partner in healing their inner child. for instance, jeonhan's partner would not join him in his scheming. when he's planning pranks, his partner is by his side and only ever reminds him to reconsider some of the things he is up to. when his pranks become too big, his partner reminds him to slow down. when his pranks aren't enough, his partner enourages him to flesh his ideas out a little more. similar, soonyoung would need someone to calm him down. he's very active and i think his opposite would be someone who's very calm. what springs to mind is a partner who would playfully join him in his horanghae agenda (as stereotypical as it is), but at the same time remind him to keep it down depending on the situation they're in. think seungkwan trying to stop hoshi from horanghae-ing at unesco ... but he actually listens. lastly, seungkwan is someone who's already more mature than the other two. but i still put him into this group because he would need someone to be childish with. him being able to turn his head off and merely joke around instead of taking charge. he's a silly guy deep down and he would need someone mature to help him be more silly in return.

black cat ↔ golden retriever - junhui, wonwoo, jihoon, minghao

it's a little bit stereotypical to put the cat line and minghao into this category, but it's true. (vernon almost made the cut too). all four of them are more reserved and calm in their ways. they resemble cats in more ways than one. junhui, for instance, is slightly possessive. he likes to be with his partner every minute of the day, no matter what both of them are up to. he just wants to be in the same room as them, even if it's them doing two entirely different tasks. because of this, jun would do well with a person who has golden retriever qualities, simply someone who's clingy. he would love all the attention his partner is giving him and he would absolutely soak it up as much as possible. wonwoo and jihoon are a bit different. they are both too used to being in their own world that having a golden retriever coded partner would help them come out of their shells respectively. instead of staying in all day, their partner would encourage them to go outside, travel, explore the world, and encourage them to try things they're too hestitant to try by themselves. minghao is a different type of black cat coded: unlike the others, he doesn't need a lot of attention nor does he need someone to encourage him to explore more. instead, he would need someone who shows him that life can be fun. his ideal opposite partner would be someone who makes him laugh, someone who reminds him to not take life as serious as he might does.

golden retriever ↔ black cat - dokyeom, mingyu

opposite to the black cat line, these two are perfect for an "opposite" partner who's calmer than they are. to me, dokyeom's opposite partner is someone who can create a safe space for him. he might be loud and outgoing, but a partner who's quiet and introverted would be a welcome change. they would be someone who's his safe haven; someone who offers him an environment that helps him wind down after a long day. similar, mingyu's black cat partner would be someone who offers him a stability. he craves affection and - if you've ever been around a clingy cat, you'd know - a black cat partner would be perfect for this. they would be clingy in a way that matches his, only a lot more casual way. when he comes home after a long day, he'd be able to fall into his partners arms no questions asked . and wind down the same way dokyeom does. a black cat partner could reciprocate their clinginess without it being overbearing - to cancel each other's feelings of the day out.

taglist: @enchantedlaufeyson @theidontknowmehn @jihoonsbbygirl @christinewithluv @choco-scoups

© minghaoes 2025.

[hqwkeyes]

Falling for the Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k+ Warnings: swearing, uhh fluff, slight angst?, matt is a flirt, i edited this while fighting 6g melatonin Summary: Matt Murdock is a known flirt, and a successful one, at that. You've seen him work his magic on women dozens of times. But one night, he attempts to use that Murdock charm on you. He might've fallen first, but you just might fall harder... maybe.

Masterlist // Buy me a coffee!

Matt Murdock is many things: a great lawyer, a great friend, but most of all, he's a flirt. A merciless flirt, at that. A charmer and a tease. He has a way of making people, specifically women, feel special. It comes naturally to him, much to Foggy's dismay in his pre-Marci days.

You've been working at Nelson, Murdock, and Page for a while now, and you just sort of clicked with the group early on. There have been several occasions when you were all out at Josie's and Matt would work his magic on a woman. You would all watch as he'd flirt with them, charm them, and often times leave with them. It was a running joke in the group, at this point, that Matt was sort of a...philanderer, if you will. He didn't lead these women on, though. Matt was still pretty much a gentleman.

Although he keeps to himself more than the others, you've always been pretty close friends with Matt. He looks out for you the same way he does for Karen and Foggy, and you trust him—like really trust him. Was there a vibe you got from him sometimes? Sure, but you were also well aware that Matt could probably charm a brick wall if he wanted to, and you generally try not to fall for antics like that.

It's been a long week, and this case you were all working had dragged on for weeks in court. You all had done your best work for your client, but you weren't sure how the verdict would pan out. In the end, you guys won the case, and now it was time to celebrate.

Josie's is fairly busy. Foggy brought Marci tonight, and you all get yourselves a drink before claiming the pool table, which is thankfully free. The five of you toast to the big win in court before cutting loose a bit and playing a few games.

You're sitting at a table nearby with Karen, chatting a bit while Foggy plays against Marci—which is incredibly entertaining. Matt is by Foggy's side for emotional support, which he definitely needs. When both your drinks are empty, Karen gets up to get the two of you another round. After a few minutes, you peek over at the bar, wondering what's taking your friend so long. You're only a little surprised to find her talking it up with a guy. She's the friendly sort, but this seems like a bit more than just friendly. He's handsome and very much her type. Another minute later, Karen pops back over with your drink, and asks if you would mind if she stepped away to talk to Evan. You give her a suggestive grin and shoo her away before calling out to your friends that you're playing the winner in the next game.

In a shocking twist, Foggy beat Marci in the last game. Unfortunately for you, that just meant that she was on his side, cheering him on and distracting him from the game. Matt is sitting at the table you and Karen had been occupying, and you call him over.

"Come on, Matt, I need someone to root for me too," you tell him, and he laughs as he joins you by the pool table.

The two of you chat as you play, but after the next few shots, you lose Foggy to Marci's attention. He's practically drooling over her, and you would think it's adorable if it wasn't his turn.

"Earth to Foggy," you call out, but it's no use. You'll have to wait for him to turn his attention back to the game.

"Can you believe this?" You ask Matt, shaking your head in disbelief, and he laughs at your mild distress.

You lean against the table, grabbing your drink you'd left on the edge of it.

"You know, you really pulled through for us on this case," Matt says suddenly as he leans against the table beside you.

"Thanks, Matt. It was nothing though."

"No, really, I don't think we could've pulled it off if not for those documents you found."

"I'm just happy to help," you tell him.

"And we're very happy to have you," he says with a smile.

Matt holds out his glass, and you clink yours against it before taking a sip. You glance over to where Karen is to check on her, and she seems to be having a great time. Her eyes meet yours and she gives you a big smile.

"This is nice," Matt says, drawing your attention back to him.

"Hm?"

"We haven't spent much time together like this lately."

"Well, we've been so busy with the case, it's been hard to find time outside of work. And we all know you're always busy," you say, nudging him with your elbow.

"That's true," he says with a chuckle. "So what have you been up to outside of work?"

"Oh." You weren't expecting that.

"Um, well I've been watching this show lately." You explain the plot of the show before telling him about this new hobby you have. He listens attentively with a small smile. He shows genuine interest in what you're saying, asking questions here and there. After a few minutes, you realize that you've been babbling on.

"Jeez, I'm sorry. I've been rambling."

"Don't apologize," he says, leaning a bit closer. "I like listening to your voice." You recognize his tone. It's that seemingly innocent one he has when he's trying to charm someone. Something bubbles in your chest, and for a moment, you understand why so many women fall for his flirtations.

"I bet you tell all the girls that," you say with a laugh before taking another sip your drink.

"Hey, I mean it," he says, feigning hurt before finishing off his drink.

"Sure you do," you say, voice laced with amusement.

"I do, really. I could listen to you talk all day."

"You do listen to me talk all day," you joke, earning a chuckle from him, though his pride is a bit wounded.

Trying to keep his composure, he casually snatches your drink from your hand and takes a sip.

"Do you want me to get you another drink?" You ask with a laugh.

"I thought maybe we could share." His reply is quick, smooth, and it comes with that signature smirk again.

You roll your eyes. You know Matt and how he is. This case was tough and he's probably looking to blow off some steam, which is fine, but you're not sure why he's looking to you. Being friends with your bosses/coworkers can be difficult enough. Sleeping with Matt would likely complicate both of those relationships. You wouldn't want to risk it all over a one night stand, although, once again, you can see how he manages to captivate all these women.

You play it casual. "Sure, we can share if you want."

At that, you can see the twinge of frustration in Matt's expression. His brows draw up in what looks something like confusion.

"I heard Karen say she was talking to a guy at the bar?" He asks after a moment.

"Oh yeah, she said his name is Evan."

"Nice, nice."

A moment passes. You take your drink back for another sip as your eyes dance over the small crowd to check on Karen again, who still looks like she's having a great time.

"So, are you seeing anyone new?" And you almost spit that sip straight onto the floor. Josie would probably make you clean it yourself, or it would stay there until the sticky puddle dried.

You clear your throat from nearly choking. "No, I'm not." Matt's grin returns. He fumbles with his fingers.

"Oh, no?"

"Nope. You?"

"No, not lately." he says, taking your drink back again and draining half of what's left. He lets out a sigh after. "There's someone I've been interested in for a while, and I just can't quite get over my feelings," he says.

You freeze, your heart kicking up a fuss. Matt smiles at the floor. You try to maintain your composure.

"Oh, really?" you say, trying not to sound too interested. "Who's the lucky lady? Do we all know her?"

"Yeah, you do actually." He finishes off your drink. "Can I get you another?" He asks, holding up your glass.

"Umm." You glance at your watch. It's a Friday, but you don't want to go home so late that you have to call a car.

"Just one more? To celebrate our win." He plays it cool, but there's a slight edge to his voice, almost pleading.

"By one more, do you mean one of my own or one to share?" He laughs at that.

"What's wrong with sharing," he jests with a grin, then heads to the bar before you can reply.

He returns a couple minutes later with a drink for each of you, but his smile deflates when he finds that Foggy's attention has returned to the game you were playing.

"Thanks, Matt," you say passively as you take your drink and set it on the edge of the table before lining up your next shot.

You end up pocketing two balls in one go, letting out an excited shout.

"What's happening?" Matt asks.

"She just pocketed two balls," Foggy says, exasperated.

"My last two. And now I can go for the winning shot," you tell him. He smiles.

"Nice," Matt says, trying not to seem dejected.

"The odds of you making that shot are slim to none," Foggy says. He's right. Based on the placement of his remaining balls, it's unlikely that you'll make the winning shot in this turn, but you get competitive when people doubt you.

"Wanna bet?" you say.

"On you not making the shot? Hell yeah."

"How much if I do?"

"Twenty bucks."

"You don't sound too confident," you say, goading him.

"Fine, fifty." Marci lightly smacks his arm. Honestly, you shouldn't have pushed it with how slim your chances are, but you're feeling a little lucky tonight.

"Deal."

You call your pocket before taking a moment to line up your shot. You inhale deeply, hold it a second, exhale. Shoot. The 8 ball knocks against one of Foggy's, then against the edge of the table before slowly rolling toward the pocket you called. And it's in.

"Holy shit!" Foggy yells. You're cheering for yourself and Marci joins in the excitement.

Foggy comes around to your side of the table to give you your fifty dollars. "You definitely earned it," he says with a laugh. "Wanna go again?"

"I'm good," you tell him. "That was more than enough excitement for me."

You walk over to Matt, who is standing near the table you had shared with Karen earlier.

"I take it you won?"

"I did," you say, your voice oozing with pride.

He chuckles. "Of course you did."

He holds out his glass to toast to your win, and you clink yours against his, a bit spilling on the floor.

"So, what are you gonna do with the money you won?" he asks, setting his drink down on the table.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. Maybe I'll treat myself to dinner tomorrow night."

You go to step closer to the table to set your drink down, but slip on the puddle you'd left, falling forward. Matt catches you against his chest, his arms falling around your waist to steady you.

"Shit, I'm sorry," you say, removing your hands from his chest once you regain your footing, but Matt's arms don't move.

"You're finally falling for me, huh," he says with that smirk. Your heart skips a beat. Or maybe several. Actually, it feels like it might burst right out of your chest. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks growing hotter by the second.

"I– um, I–" you stammer, unsure of what to say.

"How about instead of treating yourself to dinner tomorrow night, you let me treat you."

"But what about–" you pause as the realization hits you. You were the woman he had been talking about. "Oh." You feel the tips of your ears reddening.

Matt lets out a soft chuckle at your reaction.

Now that you think about it, it's been more than a few weeks since Matt has flirted with anyone here at Josie's. Women have approached him, as usual, but he hadn't left with any of them or even accepted any of their offers to buy him a drink. He was still charming, but that's just natural with him. At the time, you attributed it to him being busy, as you all were with work. Matt had a way of really locking in on work when there was a heavy caseload, so it didn't seem unusual then. You would all just stop in at Josie's for a quick drink before heading home.

You're pulled from your thoughts by Matt tugging you a little closer to him.

"So how about it?" he asks quietly once he has your attention again. "We can go to that little Italian place you like near the office?"

Have you, at some point, considered what it might be like to be with Matt? Admittedly, yes. He's a sweetheart of a guy, always kind and courteous. He's a fierce lawyer—you're constantly impressed by his ability to captivate a jury and spin a narrative. And he and Foggy are always looking out for the little guy, taking on clients that don't have much—or anything at all, sometimes—but need help, and so they do just that. But at the end of the day, you're friends, and he's also your boss.

Your heart is in your throat.

"Um, as friends?" you ask.

He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"Well, I was hoping it could be a date if you're comfortable with that."

You bite your lip. "I– I just don't know if I want to risk what we already have," you admit.

"Understandable," he says, and one of his hands comes up to rest on your cheek, the other remaining firmly on your waist. "But what if we could have so much more?"

Well, the joke's on you for trying to argue with a lawyer.

"You can think of it as a trial run if you want," he offers, his hand coming down to your jaw. "If it doesn't feel right to you, we can just go back to how things were."

It might not be that simple, you think, but maybe it's worth the risk, like he said. And besides, Matt is someone you love having in your life. If things didn't work out romantically after a date or two, you're sure you could still be friends.

"A trial run, then," you say with a small nod. Matt's smirk blossoms into a smile.

"Perfect," he whispers, his hand finding it's way back up to your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. Your eyes flutter closed.

And then they're shooting back open as Foggy's voice cuts across the room.

"Look at all this love in the room tonight!" The volume of his voice makes you wince, and Marci bats at his arm, scolding him for ruining the moment. Both you and Matt burst into laughter at the pair.

You finish off your drink before getting ready to head out with the others. Karen bids Evan a good night as she readies herself to leave with the rest of you, but not before she gets his number. You link your arm through hers as you move toward the exit, asking about her night. She gives little away in the short walk to the door, but promises to catch you up at work on Monday.

"You had an eventful night too, didn't you?" she says with a grin.

"Oh yeah, I won fifty bucks off of Foggy."

"Wait, what? I was talking about with Matt. I saw the two of you over by the table," she says, nudging you playfully.

"Oh, you saw that?" You wear a bashful smile.

"Yes, and I expect to hear about that on Monday too," she says with a laugh, and you agree.

The cool night air greets you as you exit the bar, leaving goosebumps on your skin. Foggy and Marci get a cab first, calling out their "goodnights" as they get in the car. Karen calls another cab over, and she offers it to you, but you insist she takes it as she lives further than you.

And now you're left here with Matt.

"I don't see anymore taxis," you tell him. "I can call one for you if you'd like?"

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine to walk," he says, tapping his cane against the pavement. Neither of you live far from Josie's. It's about a ten minute walk from you.

"I was going to walk too," you say.

"Then, can I walk you home?" he asks.

"How about I walk you home? You're not far out of the way."

He shakes his head. "I don't want you walking alone if you can avoid it. It's late."

"Fine," you say. Then, "thank you."

He smiles at the ground before taking hold of the crook of your arm. "Of course."

The two of you walk in silence for a moment before he speaks.

"You know, I'm really looking forward to tomorrow night," he says.

A small smile makes its way onto your face. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he says. "Thank you for giving me a chance. I know you might think I'm some kind of... I don't know, playboy or something, but I'm– I'm serious about this—about you." Your cheeks burn hot at that.

"I don't think that about you," you say quietly.

"You don't?"

"No. Although, I do think you have an uncanny ability to charm pretty much any woman." He smiles again. "You're a flirt and a tease, but I wouldn't go as far as to call you a playboy." His smile falters a bit at that.

"I believe you, though," you tell him. "Admittedly, I'm a little hesitant to, but you've never given me a reason not to trust you."

"Then, I'll just have to keep proving that you can trust me."

You smile. "I'm looking forward to that."

The two of you walk together in silence for a bit.

"The moon is so bright tonight," you say as you look up at the sky.

"Is it?"

"Yeah, it is. I can see it shining through the clouds, but there are too many to see any stars."

Matt sighs. "I'd give anything to see that one more time." Your heart constricts at that.

"I– I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he says. "I like that you describe things like that to me. You do it more often than you might think. It feels like you want to share it with me, and I enjoy hearing how things look through your eyes. I remember what it was like, you know, seeing the night sky, all the stars up there—or at least what we could see from the city. When you tell me about it, it helps me keep those memories alive." You tear up just a little bit, smiling sadly.

"I'm glad I could do that for you."

A few moments pass, and you come up to your apartment building.

"This is me," you say with a sniffle, coming to a stop.

Matt turns to face you, bringing his hand up to cup your face once again.

"I take it back," he says softly.

"What?" you ask, confused.

"I take it back," he says again, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "As much as I wish I could see the sky again, I'd do anything to see you just once."

"Oh, Matt," you breathe, and a tear slips free. He brushes it away as he closes the gap between you, pressing a featherlight kiss to your lips. And then he's pulling away, but your hand comes up to gently tug him back by his tie. His hands find their place on your hips as you pull him into another kiss, this one a bit deeper. One of his hands comes up to rest at the nape of your neck, and his glasses bump against your nose as he angles his head. The two of you break apart in a laugh, and his hand comes down to take hold of yours.

"I wasn't planning on kissing you tonight, just so you know."

"Oh, no?"

He shakes his head, a small grin on his face. "Nope."

"Well, I guess you can just try not to kiss me tomorrow night," you say with a small smirk.

"Oh, I don't think so," he says, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he leans in to press one last kiss to your lips.

"Until tomorrow," he says once he pulls away.

"Goodnight, Matt," you say as you take a step towards the stairs to your building.

"Goodnight" he says, finally releasing your hand.

He waits until he hears you get safely inside your apartment to start his walk to his own, a smile on his face the entire way home.

You're practically giddy as you ready yourself for bed. There's a good chance you won't be getting much sleep tonight, not with the anticipation of tomorrow night lingering.

Matt feels it too. Despite the late hour, he's wide awake, his heart thumping wildly as he recounts the past hour or so. As he lies in bed, he can't help but miss the way you felt in his arms, like the piece he didn't realize he was missing. Some would say it's too soon to tell, but to him, you already felt like home.

Masterlist // Buy me a coffee!

If you want to be added to any of my taglists, check out this form

Matt Murdock taglist: @xoxabs88xox @echo-dreams-of-recs

[therian-database]

Hello there!

so, here's the deal:

I, a burnt out autistic highschooler, want to create an app for therians (as a therian myself).

Here's the basic features:

A database full of information on as many animals as possible (that can and will be updated!)

Blank templates for otherkins!

Each user has a profile- public or private- and can add theriotypes and notes about those theriotypes!

A journal feature where you can add pictures, drawings, and notes to a digital journal, similar to a glorified notes app lol- and you can make certain parts of your journal public or private!

Packs!

What are packs?

Have some word soup as an explanation: Basically if you want to create a pack to either make friends or add your friends, you can submit a pack request, where you explain why you want to make a pack and if you have specific people in mind to join, and I'm thinking that I don't want it to be like everyone has their own pack or whatever so that's why it has to be approved and stuff like I don't want too many different packs. Basically it's like a discord server or an amino thingy it's a big group chat and the pack creators can set up virtual events and send out pings like "hey! Join this zoom call if you wanna do some arts and crafts!!" Or smth like that

It's a database and a community!! If you would like to help out, please please please send an ask!! I would love all the support I can get!

P.S.

BE NICE AND DRINK WATER

[kinbedo]

The Boy is Mine- Kinich x gn! reader

KINICH FEELS LIKE HE SHOULD BE 5'6 WDYM HE'S 5'3

(AND I'M 2CM TALLER THAN HIM???)

Brainrot time :3

----------

Summary: Kinich is that guy at school popular for being mysterious and for being on the basketball team. Of course, the girls hate you because of your relationship with him, so he helps you sabotage their dreams with pictures of the two of you together. (wc: 2k)

Warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive (16+),

Kinich is a basketball player and reader is implied to be into an unspecified sport (I was initially going to make it basketball or volleyball, but decided to make it as less specific as possible)

----------

There’s a lot of things you don’t understand. 

How does Kinich almost never miss his baskets despite being one of the shorter members of the team? How does he always maintain a decent grade despite looking like he never pays attention?

How is he yours?

And it seems the girls from your grade who text you don’t understand that either.

“Break up.”

“He’d be better with me :/”

“Yk, most guys prefer it if their partner is supporting them during their games.”

“Not being absent from the scene bc they have their ‘own’ match to play.”

You sigh as you put your phone back down. Kinich’s nonchalance must be rubbing off on you too, because you couldn’t care less about what the girls in your messages wanted.

“Who was it this time?” Kinich says, placing a juice carton beside you before joining you on the floor of your bedroom.

“The same ones. They’re the only ones with guts to actually text like that.”

“They sound so desperate, it’s almost pathetic.”

“Right?!” You slump, bringing your knees closer to your chest and sighing.

“You do know that I only love you, right?” There’s a hint of concern in Kinich’s voice, worried that you’re actually taking their words to heart. You merely hum in response, not lifting your head up.

Kinich leans back against the bed, sighing as he checks his own notifications. There’s one from his basketball group chat regarding practice and a few messages from Mualani just being Mualani. He sighs again. Of course you’re the only one receiving the jealous girls’ messages- they wouldn’t dare to actually text him.

“Sometimes,” you begin, causing Kinich to look your way, humming in response, “I wish there was a way to show us off, to rub it in their faces that I’m the lucky one.”

He wants to retort that he’s the lucky one, but decides against it. He’s not so good with words to say it without ruining the mood and without making it sound cringe. He lets his eyes trail your fingers, the way you’re drawing circles into the ground with your head still buried in your legs. 

“What if… we did just that?”

“Kini? What do you mean? And how do you suggest we go about it?”

His heart skips a beat at the nickname. Mualani tried to tease him with it once, but he only liked it when you called him that. “Mm-hm! You’re definitely in love.” He remembers Mualani teasing him, her smile reaching her eyes as Kachina laughed awkwardly. Would they have done a better job at comforting you? Would they have better ideas regarding your current situation? Would you be uncomfortable upon hearing what he has in mind?

“What if we got more pictures for the two of us? But instead of the casual ones you get for memories, these are more…” ‘Sexy’ is what he wanted to say, but the words get stuck in his throat when you lift your head up, meeting his gaze for the first time since he sat down beside you. He’d rather not have you post anything suggestive, he doesn’t like the idea of others getting to see those sides of you.

You consider his words, trying to finish his sentence for him when it strikes you. “Do you mean like those pinterest couples?”

He nods in response. Yes, that’s exactly what he meant. Of course you would grasp the meaning behind his words, only you could read him; only you understand him well enough to do that. Not the girls in your notifications asking you to break up. No, they don’t stand a chance. 

Kinich’s mind is a roller coaster. There’s a lot he wants to say, but he just couldn’t seem to express himself. So he thinks, and keeps it to himself, hoping you’d somehow just understand him like you always have.

“Sure, we can try that.” You grab your phone again, scrolling through your feed in search of inspiration when one catches your eye. “Let’s try this one.” Kinich just nods again, pushing himself off the ground. He reaches his hand towards you, helping you get up. “Anything you want, love.”

Your heart flutters at the endearment and a small smile creeps onto your face. Kinich is never too open with his love, but he never lets you doubt it either. When it’s from him, you love ‘love’. It’s always the little things he does- helping you up, cheering you on in your games, practicing with you, checking in at the end of the day, and being more open with his emotions around you. The other girls would never get to see this side of him. The thought itself makes you feel better.

You decide to make a few “arrangements” before getting the photos- tidying your room, dimming the lights and making slight adjustments to your outfit. This started as an activity to get good pictures, but you realised you were taking longer than usual to get this stuff done. You felt your nerves getting to you.

Wait, nerves? 

You’re nervous?

 It’s not that you’ve never been close to Kinich before- you’ve hugged before, he has carried you home once when you sprained your leg during practice, you helped him patch up after he scraped his knee. You’ve kissed his cheek when you part ways. He has kissed your forehead after his games. You’ve even kissed before.

Then why was the thought of getting those aesthetic-pinterest-couple goals core pictures so… nerve-racking.

You heard Kinich take a deep breath beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You eyed him, curious as to his own thoughts, when he pulls you closer. “We should… just get this done with.” His ears were slightly red and he avoided your gaze when he said this. Another deep breath and his hands reach your waist, giving it a light squeeze. He kissed between your eyebrows before asking, “Ready?” 

You merely nod in reply, the words stuck in your throat. You take a deep breath to strengthen your resolve, getting your mind into the situation to rid the nerves. 

Breath in.

Breath out.

“Ready.” You smile at him, suddenly a lot more confident than you were before.

He holds your waist with one hand while his other hand holds the phone to his face, covering it. Your back is to the mirror as you nestle your head in his neck. You’re wearing a jersey-  “07 KINICH” printed in big, bold letters, unmistakably his jersey. You hoist a leg up, wrapping it around his waist as his grip on your waist tightens. You smirk into his neck as you hear the camera shutter going off. 

Kissing his neck, you let yourself down and grab your phone from his hands, almost immediately uploading the picture on your instagram captioned “To the people that want us to break up, kindly, fuck off <3”

“Let’s get another.” You let out a low laugh, holding his chin in your hand and kissing his cheek before letting go to find a suitable spot.

You decide to settle down on the bed in front of the mirror, legs spread wide enough to give Kinich space to settle between them on the ground. He lays his head on your thighs, his back to the mirror this time, boasting your jersey. “You’re rather cruel,” he mumbles into your skin, before pressing a chaste kiss there. You chuckle again, letting a hand rest on your side while the other covers your face with the phone. 

Just as you finish getting the picture, you receive a notification.

 

‘Replied to your story: “Are you forcing him to do this? What’s in it for him?”’

You let out a satisfied hum, patting the head of the man still on the floor, as he leans into your touch. Kinich tilts his head up, raising his eyebrows as you seemed too amused with whatever notification just came in. “What?”

You hum again, lowering your phone to show him the message. He scoffs. “One more. But before that, upload this one saying that you’d be willing to out the people who have been sending you these messages.”

“And you said I was the cruel one.” you laugh. 

But you did just as he said, captioning your second story upload as “One more message, and you guys are going to be tagged in my next post <3”

“...And that’s uploaded. Which position do you suggest this time?”

Kinich thinks for a moment, his hazel eyes scanning your darkened room for a good spot. 

“The mirror pictures are nice, so definitely another one of those.”

“You just hate showing your face.”

“That’s true, but that’s besides the point.” 

You roll your eyes. Of course he hates taking photos of himself, and of course, that was the main reason why he preferred the photos where his face was hidden. 

You scroll through your pinterest again as Kinich circles behind you, hugging you and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. You can feel his gaze piercing through your feed, thinking about each photo that pops up. He then points at one, his hand brushing against yours as he taps on the image that caught his eye. “How about this one?” 

The couple in the photo are close, really close. They’re clearly kissing behind the phone that’s obstructing their faces. Would he kiss you too? Or would he just lean in? And if he kisses you, is it really just going to be for the sake of the photo?

You feel your face heat up just thinking about it. His slow breathing fanning over your ears was not helping either. You nod weakly, moving to find a spot to reenact the image.

You lean against the wall beside the mirror. Kinich abruptly hoists your right leg up, causing you to stumble before leaning further into the wall. You raise the phone in your hand until it covered your face in the mirror. Kinich let out a low hum. He let his eyes drift to your lips before meeting your gaze. Your gaze flutters to his lips, blurring the world around you. You zone out and tune in, watching the tiny ray of light reflect off the mirror and into his eyes. His eyes shine, a fusion of topaz and jade mesmerising you. You gulp at the sight, feeling his hot breath fanning over your own face.

With a small nod, he leaned in, capturing you in for a kiss as you pressed the camera button.

You let your hands sling onto his shoulders, tugging him closer. Kinich traced your back, feeling your curves underneath his fingertips. He traced downwards until he reached your ass, giving it a light squeeze before breaking the kiss. He stares at you for a bit, taking in your flustered form, before breaking the silence with a whisper, “Your notifications are going off again.”

That startles you, reminding you of why you both were in your current position. You push him off as he chuckles, quickly swiping through your phone to find your target. “Hmm… what if I just…” 

Click! You screenshot the latest messages you received, editing them onto your last photo. “That should do it.”

“What are you going to caption this one?” Kinich asks, sitting down on the bed and folding his legs. He grabs your pillow and places it on his lap, placing his elbow on it and leaning into his palm, he waits for you to take your place beside him.

“You’ll have to check that yourself.” You chuckle, quickly uploading the image and putting your phone away.

Curious, Kinich grabs his phone and checks your profile to find your latest post. The picture of you both kissing behind the phone makes him blush a bit. Then he notices the screenshot you attached on the side, sighing at the horrendous messages. “Some people are too jealous for their own good.” And then he checks the caption, the tips of his ears turning a bright red as his hands rush to cover his blushing face as you chuckle.

“Perks of having hobbies other than being bitchy <3 Jealous that you guys can’t exchange jerseys like we can? Poor baby :< I did warn you though, so don’t complain about having been exposed alright? After all, the boy is mine.”

----------

[purplereina11]

Apart of Perfect Shot Series You go on a night out with the Barcelona girls and end up back at Alexia's where you make up.. Finally! Enjoy the fluff

The nightclub is alive with music and flashing lights, bodies pressed close on the dance floor, laughter mixing with loud beats. You're out with Carla, your closest friend, and a group of players from Barcelona—Patri, Mapi, Ingrid, and Aitana—who insisted you needed a distraction. They've convinced you to join them in hopes of taking your mind off Alexia, the one person who has consumed your thoughts lately.

You try desperately to lose yourself in the moment, smiling wider, laughing louder, drinking faster. But you're not accustomed to drinking like this. Each sip is another attempt to quiet the ache that settled in your chest since things fell apart between you and Alexia. Soon, the warmth of alcohol floods your veins, and reality begins to blur.

Carla glances at you with a worried expression. "Are you alright?" she asks gently, her voice barely audible over the music.

You nod lazily, but your head feels heavy, your limbs unfamiliar. Suddenly, the room spins violently, and you grip Carla’s arm for support.

"Woah, okay," Carla says firmly, steadying you. "I think you've had enough."

The other players notice quickly. Patri looks concerned, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We should get you home. Where do you live?"

You blink, the answer lost somewhere deep within your foggy mind. You shake your head helplessly. Carla sighs in frustration, realising she doesn't know your new address either.

Mapi frowns. "Does anyone here know how to get her home?"

There's a pause—everyone exchanging uneasy glances—before Carla reluctantly pulls out her phone. You can barely register the quiet conversation that follows, but you catch one unmistakable word: "Alexia."

Anxiety swirls in your stomach alongside nausea. The thought of Alexia coming to your rescue now, after days of silence and tension, fills you with both relief and dread. You hadn’t reached out since Carla’s birthday party the week prior and neither had you, both clearly too stubborn to reach out first.

When Alexia arrives, it's impossible not to sense the shift in energy. She stands quietly at the edge of your group, chatting to everyone bar you, it seems her teammates and more specifically Carla were defending themselves. Like Alexia was blaming them for your state. Her eyes began searching until you let yours find hers. Her expression, usually so composed, flickers between worry and hesitation. You feel shame bloom hotly in your chest, embarrassed to have her see you like this.

She moves forward, offering Carla a quiet nod of gratitude when she moves aside, then gently takes your arm. "Come on," she whispers softly, guiding you toward the exit. Her touch is familiar, steady, and somehow heartbreaking.

The drive to her apartment is painfully silent. You want to speak, apologise, say something��anything—to break the awkwardness, but your head pounds and words fail you. Alexia occasionally glances over, worry etching deeper lines into her face each time. All you could do was close your eyes and tell yourself to not vomit in Alexia’s car.

She helps you into her apartment, every step new territory you’d not been here before, she would come to your apartment over inviting you to hers, yours was more conveniently located. She carefully removes your jacket, sets your shoes neatly aside, and guides you gently to sit on the edge of her bed. Her hands are tender, deliberate, as if she's handling something fragile.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, the words heavy on your tongue, laced with genuine regret.

"Shh," Alexia soothes softly. "We’ll talk tomorrow. Just rest now."

But rest proves elusive.

The room is spinning, but at least it’s not as violent as before. You're lying back against the pillows in Alexia’s bed, the familiar scent of her laundry detergent surrounding you. It’s strangely comforting. Or maybe it’s just her. She’s sitting beside you, her presence grounding you even in your drunken haze.  

You turn your head lazily toward her and squint. “You’re so pretty,” you mumble, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.  

Alexia raises an amused brow but doesn’t interrupt.  

You keep going, oblivious to any sense of shame. “Like… unfairly pretty. Like… if I was a judge, I’d make a law that you’re not allowed to just walk around looking like that without a warning sign. ‘Danger: Too Pretty.’”  

Alexia chuckles, shaking her head as she watches you. “Oh yeah?” she humours you. “And what would this warning sign look like?”  

You take this question very seriously, staring at the ceiling in deep concentration. “Hmm. Maybe… like a giant blinking neon sign that follows you everywhere. So people know. Or maybe a siren. Like a cute one. A ‘Beware: Alexia’ siren.”  

She laughs quietly, tilting her head as she watches you ramble. “Sounds very practical.”  

You nod solemnly. “Mhm. Gotta protect the public. People could get injured tripping over themselves when they see you. I mean, I almost died the first time I saw you.”  

Alexia's smile softens, something flickering in her eyes. “You did not almost die.”  

“Yes, I did,” you insist, dramatically clutching at your chest. “You were there. I literally gasped. My heart almost stopped. I was like, ‘Wow. That’s the most beautiful woman in the world.’ And now look at me.” You gesture weakly at yourself. “Drunk. In your bed. Pathetic.”  

She bites her lip, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You’re not pathetic.”  

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you feel bad for me,” you pout.  

Alexia lets out an exaggerated sigh. “No, I’m saying that because you’re ridiculous. And drunk”  

“Am I?” you ask, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before you force them back open. “Or am I just a tragic poet, drowning in my feelings and the consequences of my poor decision-making?”  

Alexia chuckles, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your forehead. “Definitely the second one.”  

You sigh dramatically. “I knew it.” A moment of silence passes, the air between you warm and almost nostalgic. Then, in a much softer voice, you murmur, “I missed you, you know.”  

The humour in Alexia’s face falters slightly, something unreadable replacing it. Her fingers pause where they were absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.  “I missed you too,” she says eventually, her voice quieter now. She rose to stand to leave you to finally go to sleep, but you just had to keep talking.  

“You know,” you slur, flopping onto her mattress dramatically, arms sprawled out like a starfish, “I always thought if I ever got to be in your bed, it’d be for a much sexier reason.” The first time you end up in Alexia Putellas’ bed, it is not in the way you would have imagined, nor is it remotely romantic. In fact, it is tragic, messy, and—to your drunken brain—both incredibly funny and unfair.  

Alexia, standing at the edge of the bed with her arms crossed, lets out a long, suffering sigh. “This is not funny.”  

“It’s kind of funny,” you argue, rolling onto your side with what you hope is a seductive smirk but probably looks more like a grimace. “You could have had me any way you wanted, but nope. Here I am, drunk and tragic, and you’re stuck being my babysitter.”  

She pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath in Catalan. You think it might be a prayer for patience. “I am not ‘stuck’ with you,” she says finally. “I just didn’t trust you to make it home without getting lost or throwing up in a taxi.”  

“Wow.” You clutch your chest dramatically. “The romance. I can feel the love radiating from you, truly.”  

She glares at you. “Do you want me to throw you back into the street?”  

You gasp, scandalised. “Alexia! How dare you? This is the part where you tenderly care for me and realise you’ve never stopped loving me.” You hadn’t realised you dropped the L bomb, you and Alexia had discussed your feelings, you knew you both cared for each other. Insanely attracted to the other but never went that deep.

She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh, is that what’s supposed to happen?”  

“Yes,” you declare. “And then, in the morning, we have a heartfelt conversation, and you admit you can’t live without me, and we dramatically kiss in the doorway.”  

“Do you also throw up on me in this scenario?”  

You pause. “Well. I’d prefer not to, but I can’t make any promises.” You hiccup.

She exhales through her nose and shakes her head. “Go to sleep.”  

“But I’m not even that drunk,” you argue, even though the room is still spinning slightly and your limbs feel like they belong to someone else.  

Alexia levels you with a look. “You just tried to take off your socks"

"And?"

"You weren’t wearing any.”  

“… Okay, that was one time.”  

She sighs, but there’s a tiny hint of amusement in her eyes as she gently pushes you back onto the bed, pulling the blanket up over you. “Close your eyes,” she instructs.  

You obey, but only for a second before you peek one eye open. “You’re kind of bossy, you know that? I like that in the bedroom by the way”  

Alexia lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. “And you’re impossible.”  

You grin, half-asleep already. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.”  

She doesn’t answer, just watches as your drunken babbling finally quiets and your breathing evens out. But if you were still awake, you might have caught the way her lips twitch upward slightly, the way she tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear before finally settling into the space beside you in the bed, ready to watch over you for the rest of the night.

Throughout the night, waves of sickness crash over you. Each time you stumble to the bathroom, Alexia follows quietly, never complaining, gently holding back your hair, rubbing circles on your back, and whispering reassuring words. Her calm presence is grounding, comforting, a painful reminder of what you nearly lost.

She never leaves your side, not even for a moment, her eyes heavy with exhaustion yet alert and gentle. Hours stretch endlessly into the night. Eventually, the nausea subsides, replaced by profound exhaustion and embarrassment.

As dawn begins to paint the sky in muted colours, Alexia offers you a fresh glass of water. Her voice is quiet, almost vulnerable, when she finally speaks. "You scared me tonight," she admits, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you.

Your eyes meet hers, and your heart twists with guilt. "I’m sorry," you whisper again, more sincerely this time, feeling tears build behind your eyes. "I shouldn't have—"

“Hey," she interrupts softly, placing a gentle hand on yours. "I'm just glad you're okay. That's what matters most."

You nod slowly, unable to break away from her gaze. There's so much you want to say—so much you should say—but exhaustion pulls heavily at your eyelids.

"Get some sleep," Alexia whispers gently. "We'll have plenty of time to talk when you're feeling better."

As your eyes drift closed, you feel her fingers gently brushing your hair back, and you realise something profound: despite all that has happened, despite the silence and misunderstandings, Alexia is still here, still caring, still the one person who can make you feel truly safe.

And for tonight, that's all that matters.

You wake up slowly, consciousness returning in painful waves. The harsh glare of morning sun floods through Alexia’s bedroom window, stabbing sharply behind your eyes. You groan softly, pressing your palm against your forehead, desperate to soothe the throbbing ache that pulses through your skull.

The memories of the previous night come flooding back in disjointed pieces—Carla’s worried expression, the blurred lights of the nightclub, the gentle yet heartbreaking way Alexia took care of you. Embarrassment churns in your stomach, mixing uncomfortably with the lingering nausea from your hangover.

Slowly, you try to sit up, your head protesting sharply. A small noise escapes your lips, and within moments, Alexia appears in the doorway, concern written clearly on her exhausted face. Dark circles underline her usually bright eyes; it’s clear she hasn’t slept at all.

“How are you feeling?” she asks softly, stepping into the room and sitting gently on the edge of the bed. Her voice is cautious, like she’s afraid any loud sound might break you apart.

“Terrible,” you admit, your voice hoarse and weak. You can't meet her eyes, too ashamed of the state she found you in. “Alexia, I'm really sorry about last night. You shouldn’t have had to—”

She stops you gently, placing a reassuring hand on yours. “Don’t apologise again. Please. I’m glad you called—well, that Carla called me. You could have been seriously hurt if they'd tried to take you home themselves.”

A heavy silence stretches between you. There are so many unspoken words floating between you things you both need to say but are afraid to voice. You glance down at your intertwined hands, finding comfort in the familiar touch, warmth radiating from her palm.

“I didn’t mean for things to end up like this,” you whisper finally, vulnerability clear in your tone.

Alexia sighs gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles softly. “Neither did I. But maybe last night was a wake-up call. We need to talk.”

Your stomach clenches nervously, but you nod slowly. “Yeah, we do.”

She studies your face carefully, clearly seeing the pain etched into your expression. Without another word, she rises, disappearing briefly before returning with a glass of water, painkillers, and a small plate of toast.

“Take these. You’ll feel better,” she instructs gently, sitting beside you again.

You take the medicine gratefully, sipping water as Alexia quietly watches, a hint of relief softening her features.

“Did you sleep at all?” you ask quietly, guilt rising again at the exhaustion clearly weighing on her shoulders.

She shakes her head with a tired half-smile. “I was too worried about you. Bit inconvenient if you died on me”

“I'm so sorry,” you whisper again instinctively, unable to suppress your remorse or the little smile at her joke.

“Stop,” she says softly, voice filled with warmth. “I wanted to take care of you. I would do it again without hesitation.”

You meet her eyes at last, seeing sincerity, care, and something deeper there—love. It makes your heart ache.

“Alexia—”

She squeezes your hand gently, interrupting your words. “Rest a little more, okay? Once you feel better, we’ll talk properly about us, about everything. No more silence. No more misunderstandings.”

The determination and warmth in her voice reassure you deeply, easing the anxiety knotting inside your chest.

You settle back against the pillows, exhaustion reclaiming you. As your eyes drift shut once again, you're acutely aware of Alexia’s comforting presence beside you, her gentle fingers brushing soothingly over your forehead.

For the first time in weeks, despite the physical misery of your hangover, your heart feels hopeful because maybe, just maybe, this painful night has brought you and Alexia back to the place you both needed to be.

The next time your eyes open, your headache has faded just slightly, though a dull ache still echoes behind your temples. Sunlight pours softer now through the curtains, casting the room in a golden warmth. The apartment is quiet, and a sense of loneliness creeps into your chest.

Gingerly, you sit up, stretching slowly, testing your body. You still feel fragile, emotionally and physically, but you realise in that quiet moment, all you truly crave is the comfort of Alexia's embrace.

You pull yourself out of bed, finding your footing shaky at first, and carefully step into the hallway. Alexia’s home is intimately unfamiliar, every detail reminding you of her, she was etched into each corner.

The soft clinking of dishes leads you toward the kitchen, where you find Alexia with her back turned, quietly making coffee. The scent fills the air, comforting and familiar. You pause for a moment, watching her, your heart swelling with gratitude and a deep longing. All your defences crumble, and suddenly, you're overcome with the simplest yet strongest desire—a hug.

"Alexia?" Your voice is soft, hesitant, almost childlike.

She turns immediately, eyes brightening with relief as she sees you standing in the doorway. "Hey," she replies gently, setting the mug aside, her expression warm, patient, and encouraging. "Feeling a little better?"

You nod slowly, eyes dropping to the floor, suddenly shy. "A bit. But..." Your voice falters, the words catching in your throat.

"But what?" Alexia takes a cautious step toward you, sensing your hesitation.

You lift your gaze, vulnerability clear in your eyes. "Could I... could I just have a hug? I really, need one right now.”

Alexia’s expression softens instantly, her lips curling into a tender, understanding smile. She closes the distance between you without hesitation, opening her arms. "Come here."

You move into her embrace eagerly, melting instantly into her warmth. Her arms wrap tightly around you, protective and comforting. Her familiar scent washes over you, calming the lingering anxiety in your chest. You bury your face in her shoulder, breathing her in deeply, feeling her steady heartbeat against your chest.

Alexia holds you securely, one hand gently stroking your hair, the other firmly wrapped around your waist. She doesn't rush you, doesn't speak, simply lets you soak in her presence. Her heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, reassuring you that you are safe, cared for, and exactly where you belong.

"I've missed this," you whisper finally, your voice muffled into her shoulder. "I've missed you."

Her arms tighten slightly around you, voice thick with emotion as she replies softly, "I've missed you too, more than you know."

You pull back just enough to look up into her eyes. "Can we fix this? Please?"

Her hand rises to cradle your cheek, thumb brushing gently over your skin. "We can," she promises quietly, sincerity shining clearly in her gaze. "Together."

You let out a deep, shuddering breath, relief flooding your chest. As she holds you close again, you realise that this hug, this simple yet profound gesture is exactly the bridge you'd both needed to reconnect, heal, and move forward, hand-in-hand, leaving the pain behind.

The gentle sounds of chopping vegetables and sizzling oil fill Alexia’s kitchen, creating a comforting backdrop to the quiet tension lingering between you both. You're seated at the kitchen counter, watching her intently. Every graceful movement she makes is familiar, deeply soothing, yet painfully nostalgic.

The aroma of freshly sautéed garlic and herbs slowly eases some of the residual ache from your hangover, helping you feel somewhat human again.

Alexia pauses briefly, her gaze drifting upward until it meets yours. She smiles softly, almost shyly, returning quickly to the pan, stirring slowly.

You swallow nervously, deciding this moment is as good as any. “Alexia,” you begin hesitantly, voice gentle but determined, “can we… talk about us now?”

She freezes momentarily, visibly taking a steadying breath, before nodding and turning down the heat. She leans against the counter, her eyes fixed steadily on you.

“Of course we can,” she replies softly, voice calm yet vulnerable. “I’ve wanted to for weeks now. Honestly, I've just been scared.”

Your heart clenches slightly. Alexia Putellas—one of the strongest, bravest people you know—scared? It moves you deeply. “Why scared?” you ask quietly, desperately needing to understand her side of this.

She sighs, setting the spatula down, her eyes filled with sincerity. “Because I know things went wrong, and we both made mistakes. I was scared we couldn’t come back from it. That maybe I'd lost you for good.”

Your chest tightens at her admission. Reaching your hand forward, you softly place it over hers, intertwining your fingers gently. “You haven’t lost me. You never did. I thought maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”

She shakes her head firmly, turning her hand upward so your palms touch warmly. “That could never happen,” she whispers earnestly, eyes glistening slightly with unshed emotion.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling vulnerable yet strangely safe. “How did it get so complicated between us?”

She squeezes your hand reassuringly, looking deeply into your eyes. “Because we stopped talking. We both got stubborn, afraid of rejection, of getting hurt even more, and suddenly the silence grew so loud neither of us knew how to break it. I should've been braver.”

“So should I,” you admit softly. “I'm sorry for running away from the conversation. I was afraid you'd say you were done even though I know I said I was.”

Alexia steps closer, gently cupping your face in her hand. Her voice is clear and unwavering as she says, “I could never be done with you. Ever. You're the best part of my life.”

Your heart soars at her words, the heaviness in your chest lifting instantly. You lean slightly into her touch, eyes closing briefly, cherishing the tender connection. “You’re my best part, too,” you whisper back.

She smiles warmly, thumb brushing softly over your cheekbone. “So what do we do now? How do we fix this?”

You open your eyes slowly, meeting her gentle gaze. “We communicate better. No more assumptions, no more silence. If something hurts, we say it. If something’s confusing, we talk. And we trust each other again.”

She nods, her expression filled with genuine hope and relief. “I want that. I promise to talk and listen, to always be honest, even when it's difficult.”

You squeeze her hand softly. “Me too. And... thank you for last night—for taking care of me. You didn't have to, after everything.”

She leans down, gently pressing her forehead to yours. Her voice drops to a tender whisper. “I'll always be there for you. Always.”

You feel tears gathering, relief and happiness intertwined so completely you can’t separate them. Smiling gently, you lean in, brushing your lips softly against hers—a tender, sweet kiss filled with promise, forgiveness, and the joy of starting fresh.

Pulling back slightly, Alexia smiles lovingly. “Now, let me finish cooking dinner before I burn it completely.”

You laugh lightly, the sound beautifully freeing. You feel lighter, hopeful, deeply comforted. You know now, without a doubt, that you and Alexia are finally on a path toward healing—and this time, nothing will stand between you.

You watch Alexia as she turns back to the stove, the golden light of the kitchen casting a soft glow around her. There’s a warmth in your chest, a gentle hum of relief and happiness that you hadn’t felt in so long. Everything between you feels lighter now, but there’s still a nervous flutter inside you, an uncertainty that lingers in the wake of everything you’ve been through together.

Your fingers fidget against the counter as you hesitate for a moment, your heart thudding in anticipation. Swallowing lightly, you shift in your seat, voice barely above a whisper as you murmur, “Just one more thing before you finish cooking dinner…”

Alexia turns her head slightly, her eyebrows raising in quiet amusement. “Yeah?” she asks, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. 

You hesitate again, suddenly feeling incredibly shy under her gaze. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the counter, your voice quiet and unsure. “C-Can I… have a kiss?” 

The words feel foreign on your tongue, hesitant and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t meant them to sound. You immediately drop your gaze, afraid of how she’ll react, the fear of rejection still lurking somewhere deep in the back of your mind. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe she doesn’t want that yet but, before you can spiral any further, you feel her presence right in front of you.

Gently, her fingers tilt your chin upward, guiding your gaze back to hers. The warmth in her eyes is undeniable, soft, reassuring, filled with something tender that makes your stomach flutter.

“You don’t have to be nervous about asking me that, ever” she says quietly, her thumb brushing over your cheek ever so lightly. “Of course, you can have a kiss.”

Your breath catches as she leans in slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away, but you don’t. Instead, you close the small gap between you, pressing your lips hesitantly to hers. It’s soft, delicate, almost unsure at first, but Alexia’s hands settle gently at your waist, grounding you, making you feel safe.

She deepens the kiss just slightly, not pushing, just reassuring. Her lips move slowly against yours, and you can feel her smile against your mouth, as if she’s been waiting for this just as much as you have.

When you finally pull away, your face feels warm, your heart racing, and you don’t even need to look in a mirror to know you’re blushing.

Alexia chuckles softly, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before whispering, “You don’t ever have to be shy about that, cariño.”

You nod wordlessly, still feeling breathless from the kiss, a little dazed but undeniably happy. 

Alexia grins at your expression, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before stepping back toward the stove. “Alright, now I really have to finish cooking. But later? You can ask me for as many kisses as you want.”

You duck your head, smiling to yourself as you watch her continue cooking, your heart lighter than it’s been in weeks. Maybe things weren’t perfect yet, but they were getting there one kiss at a time.

You sit at the kitchen counter, your heart still fluttering from the soft, lingering kiss Alexia had just given you. Your face is warm, and the shyness still lingers in your chest, but there’s something undeniably comforting about the way she so easily reassured you.  

The soft clatter of kitchen utensils and the gentle sizzling of food fill the air as Alexia resumes cooking. Every so often, she sneaks a glance in your direction, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips.  

You rest your chin on your palm, watching her work. The way she moves around her kitchen is so natural, so familiar. It feels like home—like the home you had been missing all this time.  

She stirs something in the pan, then glances back at you. “Are you just going to stare at me the whole time?” she teases, arching an eyebrow.  

Your eyes widen slightly, and you immediately avert your gaze, flustered. “No!” you protest, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you.  

Alexia chuckles softly, shaking her head as she plates the food. “You’re cute when you get all shy,” she murmurs, almost to herself, but you hear it.  

You bite your lip, still nervous, but feeling safer in her presence than you have in weeks.  

A moment later, she places a plate in front of you and slides onto the stool next to you. The scent of the food is rich and inviting, making your stomach rumble softly. You realise that, in the chaos of last night, you hadn't eaten much at all.  

"Eat," she urges gently, nudging your hand with her own. "You need to get some strength back after… you know."  

You nod, ducking your head slightly in embarrassment but picking up your fork nonetheless. The first bite melts in your mouth, full of warmth and flavour. It’s simple, but it’s perfect, and the fact that she made it for you makes it even better.  

“This is really good,” you mumble between bites, looking at her with sincere appreciation.  

Alexia smiles, pleased. “Of course, it is. I’m not just good at football, you know.”  

You let out a small laugh, and she watches you with a soft expression, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the countertop. A comfortable silence settles between you both, but you can feel the weight of the deeper conversation that still lingers in the air.  

After a few more bites, you place your fork down, taking a deep breath. “Alexia,” you say quietly, shifting to face her fully. “I meant it when I said I want to fix things. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore.”  

Her expression softens immediately. “I don’t either,” she says, voice steady but full of emotion. “I hated the distance between us. I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”  

You nod, your fingers twitching slightly against the table. “I don’t either. But I don’t want to mess this up again. I want to do better.”  

Alexia reaches for your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. Her grip is warm, steady, reassuring. “Then let’s take it one step at a time. No pressure, no rushing—just us, figuring things out together.”  

You squeeze her hand, feeling a wave of emotion rush over you. “Together,” you repeat softly.  

She smiles, squeezing back. “Together.”  

For the first time in what feels like forever, you truly believe it.

As you finish eating, the weight of everything slowly settles. The conversation had been good, healing even, but there’s still something lingering in the air, a hesitation, a quiet reluctance that neither of you have acknowledged yet.  

Alexia picks up both of your plates, moving them to the sink before turning back to face you. She leans against the counter, crossing her arms, her expression gentle but observant.  

“So,” she says softly, watching you carefully, “do you want me to take you back home?”  

The question makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. You know she’s only asking because it’s the reasonable thing to do—because she doesn’t want to assume anything, doesn’t want to push. But the thought of leaving this space, of going back to your own apartment where everything still feels empty and distant, fills you with a quiet dread.  

You hesitate just a moment too long.  

Alexia notices immediately. Her eyes soften, and she takes a step closer, tilting her head slightly as she studies your face. “You don’t really want to go, do you?”  

You exhale slowly, dropping your gaze. “I… I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I don’t want to be alone tonight.”  

Alexia’s expression shifts into something even softer, something impossibly full of warmth and understanding. She nods once, stepping fully into your space and reaching for your hand again, her thumb running soothing circles over your skin.  

“Then stay,” she says simply. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”  

You look up at her, searching her face. “Are you sure?”  

Alexia lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. “Of course, I’m sure. Do you really think I’d want you to leave when I can tell you don’t want to?”  

You swallow hard, emotions swelling in your chest. “Thank you,” you murmur, squeezing her hand lightly.  

She squeezes back, her smile reassuring. “Come on,” she says, tugging you gently toward the living room. “Let’s get comfortable.”  

She leads you to the couch, settling down beside you, her arm draped casually over the backrest, close enough for you to lean into if you want to. There’s no pressure, just quiet reassurance.  

You hesitate for only a moment before shifting slightly, curling into her side, resting your head against her shoulder. Alexia exhales softly, tilting her head to rest lightly against yours, her fingers drawing absentminded patterns on your arm.  

The room is quiet, just the distant hum of the city outside and the soft sound of your breathing. You feel safe—truly safe—for the first time in weeks.  

“You’re not alone,” Alexia whispers after a while, her voice gentle but firm. “Not now, not ever.”  

You close your eyes, breathing her in, and let yourself believe it.

---

You wake up to the smell of fresh coffee and the quiet hum of the city outside Alexia’s window. Your head is pounding, your mouth is dry, and your stomach is still slightly uneasy, but none of that seems to matter when you roll over and see her sitting beside the bed, legs pulled up onto the chair, watching you with quiet amusement.  

“You’re alive,” she comments, tilting her head. “Barely.”  

You groan, pressing your hands to your face. “Remind me never to drink again.”  

She smirks. “I told you last night, but you didn’t seem interested in my advice.”  

There’s a warmth in her voice that makes your heart squeeze a little. Last night is a blur, but what you do remember is Alexia taking care of you. Holding you when you were sick. Laughing at your ridiculous drunken rambling. Sitting by your side, refusing to sleep, even when exhaustion was evident in her face.  

You sit up slowly, running a hand through your messy hair. Alexia is still watching you, her face unreadable now. Like she’s waiting for you to say something, to address the thing that’s been sitting between you for too long now.  

You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.  

“I’ve made a decision,” you say, voice still hoarse from sleep.  

Alexia raises an eyebrow. “About what?”  

“About us,” you say simply.  

She blinks, sitting up a little straighter.  

“I want it all with you,” you continue, voice steadier now. “The wedding, the house, the kids. Even the scruffy little dog from the shelter that I wouldn’t be able to leave behind because it looks at me with sad eyes.”  

Alexia’s lips part slightly, surprise flickering across her face. You can see the wheels turning in her head, the careful way she processes your words like she doesn’t want to let herself believe them too quickly.  

“I don’t want you to ever think that I’m behind you or unsure,” you say firmly. “Because I’d have it all with you tomorrow if I could.”  

She exhales a breath she’s been holding, eyes softening in that way that makes your chest ache. “You would?”  

“In a heartbeat,” you promise. “If you asked me to, I’d marry you in this apartment, in our pajamas, with a takeaway pizza as our wedding dinner. Because none of the details matter to me. What matters is you.”  

Alexia’s face breaks into the softest, most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. And suddenly, all the tension that’s been between you for months melts away like it was never there to begin with. She shakes her head, laughing quietly. “You are impossible.”  

You grin. “But you like me anyway.”  

Alexia doesn’t hesitate this time. “I love you anyway.”  

And that’s all you need. “I love you” you speak as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

For a moment, there’s just silence—soft, warm, and full of things unspoken. Alexia is still looking at you like she’s trying to memorise every part of you, her lips curved in that rare smile, the one that makes your heart stumble.  

“I love you,” she says again, quieter this time, like she’s still tasting the words, still letting herself believe this is real.  

You reach for her hand instinctively, threading your fingers through hers. She squeezes lightly, grounding you in that simple touch.  

“Do you mean it?” she asks after a beat, her voice uncharacteristically small. “All of it?”  

You nod without hesitation. “Every single word. The wedding, the house, the kids, the scruffy little dog—I want all of it with you.”  

Alexia huffs out a soft laugh, shaking her head as if you’re ridiculous. But there’s no denying the way her thumb brushes over your knuckles like she’s reassuring herself you’re really here, saying these things.  

“So, what’s the plan?” she teases, tilting her head trying to lighten the mood but you get a bit carried away, it was all you’d thought about in your space the last week. “Big wedding or small?”  

You grin, grateful that she’s letting you dream out loud. “Small. Just the people we love. Somewhere beautiful, but not too fancy, because I don’t want to feel like I’m in someone else’s fairytale. Just ours.”  

She nods, considering. “And the house?”  

“Something warm,” you say immediately. “With big windows and a ridiculous number of plants. A place where we can hear the rain on the roof at night.”  

Alexia smirks. “You’re getting a little poetic.”  

“I’m serious!” You squeeze her hand. “I want a home, not just a house. Somewhere we can come back to after bad games or long trips and just… be.”  

Her smile softens, and you swear there’s something glassy in her eyes now. “And the kids?”  

You hesitate for a moment, not because you’re unsure, but because you’ve never actually voiced this out loud before. “I don’t know how many,” you admit. “Maybe one, maybe two. Maybe a whole little team of them. But only if we both want that.”  

Alexia watches you carefully, the weight of your words settling between you. Then she nods, as if something clicks into place. “I’d like that,” she says softly.

You touch your stomach, “I’d carry them, so you can still play football, I’ve always wanted a bump”

And just like that, you can see it—the life you’ve been imagining, no longer some distant, impossible thing, but something real. Something within reach. You pregnant a messy faced toddler at your feet as Alexia was feeling your next kid kicking in your stomach, her teammates flooding your home all aunties to your kids they adored. You moaned about cooking for that many but you secretly loved it.

“And the dog?” she asks, her voice teasing but affectionate bringing you out your daze.  

You grin. “Oh, the dog is non-negotiable. Some scrappy little mutt that looks like it’s been through war but is secretly the sweetest thing. We’ll name it something dumb, like Pesto.”  

Alexia snorts, shaking her head. “Pesto?”  

“Or Pickles. Or Beans. Something ridiculous.”  

She laughs, tilting her head as she watches you. “You’re serious about all of this.”  

“I am.” You squeeze her hand again. “And I don’t want you to worry that I’m not where you are with any of it, Alexia. Not of this. Not of us I know I’m only 24 but I’ve always wanted a family young.”  

She swallows hard, and for a moment, you see all the walls she’s been holding up, all the doubts she’s been carrying, start to break down.  

“I’d have it all with you tomorrow,” you say again, softer this time. “If you asked me to.”  

Alexia exhales sharply, then leans forward, pressing her forehead against yours. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmurs, but there’s no bite to it.  

You smile. “But you love me anyway.”  

She closes her eyes, breathes you in, and whispers, “I do.”

[bebsi-cola]

the way people online have reacted to discussions about physical disability by loudly insisting on discussing the category of "mental disability" actually flattens people's understanding of disability and creates a binary, a mind-body dichotomy stronger than anyone who wanted to just talk about physical disability ever did. like firstly, mental disability historically referred to people with intellectual disabilities (ID/IDD). and two, if you say something like "physically disabled only" you're not actually saying what kind of disabilities everyone else has. only that it's not primarily physical. there's disability that don't really fit into the idea of there being only a physical or mental category. many disabilities straddle the line. like i have migraine. it's a common neurological condition, and it disables me. i personally don't care to put it entirely in either "physical" or "mental" because it affects me holistically. if there's a club saying "people with disabilities that physically affected them are welcome", on the basis on migraine alone i could choose to join, or decide not to. nobody is forcing a category onto me. but people insisting that the opposite to physical disability is "mental disability" is forcing us into categories. just... actually be specific. say mental illness or developmental disability or something. you won't get a word to encompass every disability that's not primarily physical without flattening a lot of frankly unrelated disabilities into one category. it is more accurate and useful to use the categories that exist instead of pretending there's only two categories of disability (physical vs mental) and that they're opposites. for context i have a physical disability, a neurodevelopmental disability (autism), mental illness, and my migraine/neurological issue. those last three are different. i would go to different groups to relate to others with those issues, like for example an autism peer support group or mental health support group. they don't need to be encompassed by "mental disabilities" and treated all the same

[strwberri-milk]

Hello!

Can I request about what your headcannons would be if the boys were in a schoolAU instead of the original

(request was inspired by the official post of their info in deepspace academy)

hihi!! i recc you read this set of hcs too!! i honestly kinda sandwhiched my thots of them in a school au in here so these might be a little repeatative/ theyre super short bc i just dont have anything outside of what i already posted awefoaifjaoiawfa did you have anything specific you were seeing?? bc its really hard for me to extrapolate from just like, gen hcs sometimes :(

Zayne's tutoring sessions can go pretty late sometimes. He does use them to do his own homework and also likes them because it forces him to go over concepts over and over and reinforce them in his mind. He's the kind of guy who is super smart but still studies a lot to ensure that he doesn't leave testing up to chance. To him, he wants to make sure that his good grades are the result of his efforts and nothing is left up to chance.

He's a part of a lot of like, academic student bodies or anything that aims to support student's learning. He doesn't have a lot of time to go to social events but he does manage to grab a meal here or there with you. He's just got a lot on his plate to keep him busy. The only time he'll carve out time for social events is if you ask him to come with you and usually that means he's even busier leading up to it trying to get all his work done.

Xavier isn't big into clubs so he doesn't really seem to have many friends. He could totally be convinced to join a club by you though. He has a very tight knit group that would consist of you and Jerimiah. It'd have to be like, childhood friends because he isn't super into making new friends so any new friends he does make are directly introduced to him by his primary friend group.

He much prefers going over to yours or you going over to his place to study or hang out after class. He's the type of friend that basically lives at your house, staying basically until the sun sets. He'll spend the night too if he's allowed to, crashing on the floor of your bedroom. Definitely the kind of friends everyone assumes are dating and have to be convinced if you two aren't.

Rafayel is really standoffish and quiet so people just like, think of him as the really hot but also really scary guy. People don't really talk to him directly unless they really have guts to get cussed out by him if he's in an especially bad mood because he really doesn't care how people perceive him.

He really only talks to you and Thomas, and teachers also aren't safe. He's nice enough not to do anything to antagonise the teachers but he also isn't really an active participant in their classes. If they want him to participate then it's generally on his terms but when he does participate he's surprisingly cooperative when he puts in his two cents.

Sylus is popular and in that cool kid way. He's intimidating because everyone knows him and wants to talk to him and he also knows that he's popular. He doesn't really do anything with it, just acting like people aren't desperately trying to get his attention. He doesn't pay it any mind, ignoring it because it doesn't really matter to him.

He doesn't seem like he cares about classes but he actually kinda does. He doesn't work as hard as Zayne because he's smart enough and willing to leave things up to chance if needed to study. He excels primarily at classes that challenge him or require him to work with his hands as the mental stimulation keeps him focused.

He gets invited to parties a lot. The question becomes whether or not he'll attend - and generally he'll only go if you're there too. If you aren't there he really doesn't see any purpose in showing up.

[flwrstqr]

enhypen doing a challenge with you

pairings: idol!enhypen x fem idol!reader | genre: fluff | wc: 1000+ | prompt: ENHYPEN members when you do a challenge with them but the catch is your dating them secretly | warnings: not proofread | LIBRARY FOR MORE...

이희승 (lhs)

you're the 6th (or 7th) member of lsfm. you just had your comeback easy, and you're were told you were going to do a challenge with heeseung. and boy, heeseung was so happy. like he forgot about dating and how judgmental knetz can be. hes just excited to see you because how busy you were do to your promotion schedule meaning he couldn't see you for weeks. when you guys meet at the hybe dance practice room, you teach him how to do the dance. which he obviously eats it up. then you would start filming the challenge. the two of you guys would end the challenge by like going opposite directions (like out of the camera view). and as heeseung being a supportive bf, he would watched the mv and dance. so he would like exit the camera by doing that chaewon move. like i can see him doing it so vividly and leaving the camera view while your laughing so hard. now the comments are all like: "heeseung being #1 fearnot fr!"

rest of the members below

박종성 (pjy)

as the 5th member of aespa, you had a comeback of drama. and comebacks = interactions with idols = interaction with enhypen = interaction with specifically jay. and when jay heard hes going to do a challenge with you, bro is like yapping about it 24/7 to his members. he would be sitting in the living room, yapping to jungwon, "man, im gonna film a challenge with my amazing gorgeous girlfriend." but now lets talk more specifically during the challenge. he would have already learned the choreography because he streams ur music duh. and by the time you go to hybe dance practice room, he's basically like the 6th member of aespa. during the challenge, jay would try so hard not to smile at you cause of rumors (and he doesnt want to be fired). but in the end, he does give a small smile to you cause he can't even hold it. (guess what the next topic will be during the next enhypen discussion!)

심재윤 (sjy)

being the maknae of gidle, is also being the gf of jake from enhypen. you're the youngest in the group and you had your comeback of super lady (lady lady call me super lady). and jake already, as the golden retriever he is, he's hyping you up 24/7. he stalks your instagram page + fancams. like even before his manager tells him he's gonna do a challenge with you, he already knows the lyrics and dance by heart. when he does the challenge, he eats it up. but lets be honest, jake would honestly purposely cause a dating rumor during the challenge. like this man can't hold his urge to hug you at award shows or talk about you during live so he would just like grab your waist while watching the scenes (NOT TO MENTION, THERES A BEHIND THE SCENES CAMERA WATCHING WHICH HE OBVIOUSLY KNEW). like jake that wasn't part of script (????)

박성훈(psh)

7th member of ive, which is aka you. you knew sunghoon cause your member, wonyoung, is friends with him due to them being music bank mcs together. (lets say you were jealous that your member got to be with him every friday and not you but still) you had just came out with all night (cover) and enhypen came out with sweet venom. like his challenge with wonyoung, you would film the all night challenge + sweet venom challenge too with him. before, sunghoon would be sooo happy to see you but at the same time so scared (this man has like trust issues with k-netz so). during the behind the scenes, you guys would just standing 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️ like this. like your scared too (i would). but in the end, when all the cameras are off you wave goodbye and of course sunghoon leaves a small kiss on cheek.

김선우 (ksn)

obviously, as expected, you're the 6th member of newjeans. being in the same company as sunoo means that you would be best friends with him. ironically, you knew each other from school and unexpectedly joined the same company. as sunoo is easy to connect with, you two became close friends within days. six months later, you're now dating sunoo (cute <3). during the sweet venom era, you film a challenge with sunoo (you begged the company). usually, hybe posts behind-the-scenes of challenges, so your behind-the-scenes footage i feel would go viral. some fans were shocked to see the fact that the two of you were friends and knew each other (well, you were technically more than just friends). but at the end of the challenge, you guys would do a heart together 🫶. like, how cute is that?

양정원 (yjw)

you were gonna have a comeback, dash, as a member of nmixx. which meant you were going to do a challenge with jungwon. which means you were going to see your bf (or your loyl). you guys do the part of "mhm i just want to continue my pace!" and you messed up so badly cause how cute jungwon was. I MEAN WHO WOULDN!?!??! like you want to stop the video to just squish his cheeks and dimples!!!!! but other than that, after 45 tries you made it and was able to post it. your guys interaction was so >>>>>>>>.

西村力 (nsr)

10th member of kep1er was you. being from a survival show like riki, meant that you were easily connected with riki. ironically you both guys came in 4th in survival shows. back in galileo, era, you guys filmed a challenge together. the two of you were known for your dancing skills and rapping skills. so obviously when you filmed a challenge, fans are freaking out. but in reality, the two of you were actually dating and super excited to film the challenge. riki never really did a gg song challenge often so it was slightly new but in the end he was able to pull it off iconically (as usual, like did you guys see the hype boy challenge and super shy challenge?!?!??!). but let's talk more deeply during the challenge. riki was obviously the shy person as he couldn't seem to make eye contact with you. the comments are all about riki's shy smile towards you and started shipping you + him.

[patriotictf]

Daniel, who had recently joined the army. He had enlisted thinking that he would finally be free to be himself now that the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy had been repealed. But as soon as he arrived to his training camp, he was immediately met with hostility and intolerance from his fellow soldiers.

One night, Daniel was attacked by a group of soldiers who had been watching him closely. They cornered him in his barracks room and began to physically and emotionally abuse him. They taunted him for being gay, and made it clear that he was not welcome in their ranks.

Despite the abuse, Daniel tried to stay strong and not let the bullies get to him. But over time, the psychological trauma of the attacks and the constant bullying wore him down. He felt isolated, alone, and completely overwhelmed.

Daniel finally couldn't take it any longer and decided to speak with his commanding officer. He nervously approached his office and knocked on the door.

The commanding officer looked up from his desk when Daniel entered. "What can I do for you, soldier?" he asked, sounding bored.

Daniel struggled to find the words, feeling scared and humiliated. "Sir, I need to speak to you about something important," he said finally.

The officer leaned back in his chair and studied Daniel for a moment. "Go on," he said gruffly.

Daniel took a deep breath. "I'm being harassed and attacked by some of the other soldiers," he said. "It's because I'm gay."

The officer's demeanor changed instantly. A look of disdain crossed his face. "Is that so?" he sneered. "And what do you expect me to do about that?"

Daniel felt his heart drop. He had been hoping for support, but he could tell right away that he wouldn't be getting any from this man. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I thought maybe you could help me."

The officer let out a derisive scoff. "Help you? Help you how? You enlisted in the Army, soldier. You knew what you were signing up for. If you can't handle a few insults and some roughhousing, then maybe you aren't cut out to be here in the first place."

The commanding officer looked at Daniel with a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "Lucky for you soldier," he said, "there's a new program that might just help you."Daniel felt a flicker of hope at the officer's words. "What kind of program?" he asked.

"It's a special rehabilitation program that was created by President Trump," the officer explained. "It's designed to help soldiers like you who are experiencing difficulties adjusting to military life."

Daniel was taken back by the mention of Trump's name. He had seen the President speak publicly against gay rights countless times. But he was desperate for help, so he kept his mouth shut. "What kind of program is it exactly?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, it's a combination of training and counseling, designed to help soldiers like yourself overcome their personal issues and become better soldiers," the officer said, his tone patronizing. "It's a win-win situation, really. You get the help you need, and we get a soldier who can perform his duties without being distracted by his own personal problems."

Daniel felt a wave of trepidation wash over him. He had a feeling that this "program" was not going to be about helping him, but rather about trying to force him to conform to a specific set of beliefs. But he didn't see any other choice. "When do I start?"

The officer smiled slightly, clearly pleased with James' response. "0-500," he said abruptly. "Pack your things and get ready to report to the rehabilitation unit. You'll be staying there for the duration of the program."

Daniel nodded and left the office, feeling like he had just made a deal with the devil. He had a sinking feeling deep in his gut that this "program" was going to change him in ways he couldn't imagine.

The next morning, Daniel packed his belongings and reported to the rehabilitation unit as instructed. He was met by a no-nonsense military official who introduced himself as the unit's director.

"Welcome to the Trump Rehabilitation Unit, soldier," the director said bluntly. "We're going to be spending a lot of time together, so let's get a few things straight."

"First and foremost, I want to make one thing clear," the director continued. "You are here because you have some issues that need to be addressed. We're going to help you overcome those issues and become a better soldier. But we are doing this on our terms, and we expect Compliance."

The director's words sent a chill down Daniel's spine. He had a feeling that he was about to be subjected to a barrage of anti-gay rhetoric and propaganda. "Yes sir," he said again, feeling powerless.

"Good," the director said with a nod. "Now, there are a few rules that you'll need to follow while you're here."

The director then rattled off a list of rules, each one more restrictive than the last. James felt like he was being turned into a mindless machine, stripped of his individuality and autonomy.

The director went on to explain the structure of the program, which would involve days full of physical drills and weapons training, followed by evening "counseling sessions" that sounded more like political indoctrination sessions.

Daniel felt sick to his stomach. He knew that he had gotten himself into a dangerous situation, but he didn't see any way out. He was stuck in this program, and he had no choice but to comply with whatever they threw at him.

The first few days in the unit were brutal. Every waking moment was spent on physical drills and weapons training. Daniel was pushed to his limits both physically and mentally, and he felt like he was slowly losing his sense of self.

But the evenings were even more torturous. The "counseling sessions" were led by a stern instructor who spewed forth anti-gay and conservative rhetoric. Daniel felt like he was under a constant barrage of propaganda, trying to break down his beliefs and force him into conformity.

The instructor frequently disparaged Daniel sexuality, calling it a weakness and a liability. Daniel was required to sit and listen to the insults and insults without protest or complaint.

The constant barrage of insults and propaganda slowly wore down Daniel resistance. He felt himself begin to internalize the message that his sexuality was wrong and that he needed to change. Slowly but surely, the program was doing its job.

Despite his struggles, Daniel tried to hold onto his true self. He would sometimes find brief moments of solitude to reflect on his identity. But the program was tightly controlled and monitored. Any hint of independent thought was quickly squashed.

He felt isolated, alone, and completely powerless. The program had stripped him of his personality, his beliefs, and his very identity. All that was left was a soldier who was conditioned to follow the line of the GOP.

Daniel stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. His eyes looked dead, devoid of any hint of individuality or soul. He barely recognized himself anymore. He was a far cry from the man he used to be.

The constant barrage of insults and conditioning had finally taken its toll on Daniel. His mind had finally broken. He had become a loyal soldier, fully indoctrinated into conservative ideology, with no memory of who he use to be before the program.

Daniel had lost himself completely, but he didn't care. He had become soldier 2318 a true believer in the cause of the party, and he was proud to be a part of it. He was no longer a gay man; he was a soldier, a tool for the Trump administration. And he was content with that. In the depths of his mind, the last embers of individuality, the last flicker of his true self, flickered out. Daniel was no more only Soldier 2318.

Soldier 2318 took out his phone and snapped a photo of himself, staring blankly at the camera lens. He looked at the image for a moment, then tucked his phone into his pocket and headed out to report for duty.

As he marched through the corridors of the base, he felt a strange sense of detachment from himself, a feeling of being completely divorced from his old identity. He was now and henceforth completely loyal to the Republican cause.

He reported to his commanding officer and stood at attention, waiting for orders. His commanding officer looked him up and down, taking in his blank expression and robotic demeanor.

"At ease, soldier," the officer said gruffly.

Soldier 2318 relaxed his stance, but his blank expression didn't change. He waited for the officer's orders, feeling completely devoid of any hint of emotion or personality.

Soldier 2318 nodded obediently, his eyes dull and unfeeling. "Yes sir, the program has been very effective," he said in a monotone voice.

The commanding officer studied him for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. "Good, good," he said gruffly. "You're shaping up to be a fine soldier. We need more men like you willing to stand up for the GOP and our values."

"Yes sir," Soldier 2318 replied obediently, feeling a sense of pride in being praised for his loyalty to the Republican cause. "I am ready to serve the party and defend its values at all costs. what is my mission?"

The officer smirked. "That's what I like to hear," he said gruffly. "You've got a lot of potential, soldier." He then handed Soldier 2318 a file containing his new mission information.

Soldier 2318 took the file and opened it, reading through the information on his new assignment. His eyes scanned over the details, taking in every word. He had absolutely no doubts, no questions, and no reservations about what he was being asked to do. He was completely and utterly devoted to the cause of the Republican Party.

"This is your assignment, soldier," the officer said gruffly. "I expect nothing but the best from you. You're one of our best now, and you need to prove it on this mission."

"Yes sir," Soldier 2318 replied obediently. "I will complete the mission to the best of my abilities. The Republican cause is my top priority, and nothing will deter me from fulfilling my duties."

[sunnysidesevenup]

OMG IT HAPPENED??? 300 FOLLOWERS?? I know I’ve been joking about hitting it but I genuinely can’t believe it like: you all like my shenanigans? truly? That’s incredible.

It’s kind of awesome that I hit this on new year’s (for me at least) so let me just take a moment to thank everyone who’s been so cool and supportive. I’ve been having a ton of fun sharing my little projects and interacting with everyone 😭 This is my first time truly engaging in fandom because I’ve been too anxious and depressed previously—I’m so happy I finally started putting myself out there.

ANYWAYS, DONE WITH THE SAPPY STUFF NOW. It’s time for the thing you’re actually here for!! I’ve put a TON of work into it so I really hope people enjoy this silly little event.

Everend’s Cove: Moonlight Song

Every year, Arlo Wake’s hometown holds a Moonlight Festival—in honor of the connection between the moon and the ocean, and the deep ties it has to certain merfolk cultures. This festival is held in many parts of the Coral Sea, but is specifically popular in Everend Cove for its special tradition of holding a singing competition in honor of one of the town’s myths.

As the myth goes, a group of sirens once fell in love with a human boy—so much so that in a selfless act, they saved the boy’s friend from drowning, a young girl whom he was in love with. The competition honors the spirit of love and selflessness, and the nature of the sirens.

Much to Arlo’s horror, his siblings have signed him up for the Moonlight Song competition this year. There’s no way he’s going alone, though. If he has to sing, then he’s forcing some of his classmates to come with him—that way, the attention won’t be fully on him.

Dress Code:

Arlo Wake’s parents are skilled potion masters by trade, and they’ve devised a special, experimental potion this year to turn tourists into merfolk temporarily! It might have a few side effects, but they assure you—any harm the potion causes will be thoroughly compensated!

If you don’t want to risk the potion, there’s always some traditional attire the festival provides. Everend Cove is a joint merfolk and human town, based right around an island, so there’s plenty of things to do both on land and in the sea! The important part of the Moonlight Festival is that you are adorned with sparkling stones and crystals. The more glamorous and mesmerizing the outfit, the better!

For better reference, here are some inspiration boards, and some concept art of possible outfits:

Rules:

it’s not at all necessary to be following me to participate in this event! ANYONE is welcome to join!

Any type of entry is welcome: cards, general art, edits, fics, anything!

It’s not required to use the backgrounds I made, I simply thought it would be fun to draw one ^^

If you don’t want to link your character to my oc, don’t worry about it! It’s not necessary to follow the event story, you can still have fun with the outfits and aesthetic if you want, I don’t mind at all!

If you WOULD like your oc to interact with Arlo, feel free! You have my permission.

You can draw/write for your own character OR a canon character, whatever you want <3 there are “official” participants, but this is all for fun, so it’s not necessary to stick to those.

Please tag me and use #Moonlight Song Competition with your entry so I can properly gush about it ^^

There is NO DEADLINE on this event! Go crazy!

Backgrounds for the SR Cards:

Featured Characters:

SSR Arlo Wake

SR Vil Schoenheit

SR Lilia Vanrouge

R Cater Diamond

-

SR Joseph Akaba

SSR Flori Mohn-Prinz

>>> Flori and Arlo seeing people’s… questionable singing skills.

SR Peony

Blanche, Mattie and Agate

SR AJ

SR Esra Gryfith

Reese & Kiki sketches

Kiki Groovy

SR Otto Walsh

>>> Otto & Esra doodle

SSR Kyra Lovelace

Mariette sketch!!

Rose outfit!

SR Alice | GROOVY

SSR Yuri

SSR Marina

SR Yuuna Schariac

SSR Talus

SSR Amai Sakura

SSR Cadbury Schweetz | GROOVY

SR Emery

SSR Morticia Dame

SR Patricia Catherine

Fic!!!

Yuri and Arlo Fic!!!

Arlo and Yuri Drabble!!! READ THIS ONE TOO IF YOU READ THE ABOVE ONE PLS 🥺 READ BOTH OF THEM

Fic featuring Mouse and Alise!!! READ THESE IM SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW GUYS.

[bigsoupspoon]

A Safe Respite

Summary: You take Astarion on a private evening date to a bath house inside of Baldurs Gate.

Pairing: Astarion x Afab Reader

Warnings: Fluff, smut, minor angst, bathing,

Word Count: 2300 approx.

Rating: 18+ - If you are under 18 please do not read.

The day had been difficult and dangerous, multiple citizens abruptly transforming into mindflayers and the Absolute cultists posing a threat everywhere they go, not to mention attempts to infiltrate Baldur’s Gate for leads to destroy the Elder Brain. By the time sunset came, you and your companions were all accounted for back at camp, and decided to start the night with a celebration of the victories earned thus far.

“I think we all deserve a little fun after today’s tiresome events, there’s a tavern close by I used to visit from time to time. They make the best honeyed mead in the Gate.” Wyll promptly suggests.

“Aye, I second that suggestion.” Agreed Halsin, already nearly finishing a bottle of wine.

“Are you coming?” Shadowheart nudges, hoping you would join.

“Although that does sound fun, I actually have something else for the two of us planned for the evening,” You reply, now looking at Astarion, “Unless you’d prefer the tavern of course?”

“A private rendezvous planned by my lover? How could I ever say no.” Astarion gushed coyly.

The group collectively threw you several looks that implied “Have fun,” and with that, you took Astarion’s hand and walked up towards the bustling streets of the city.

* * * * * * * * * *

You make your way to the local bath house, one you had seen earlier in the week and decided to pay a visit to soon. The same clerk is working who recognises you from your interaction just hours before.

“Everything you had requested has been organised, I hope the room is to your liking.” They smile, and lead you around the corner to a private room.

The scent of the lavender oil bath embraces your noses as you walk into the room. It is dimly lit, containing multiple candles surrounding a circular wooden tub in the centre, filled with freshly drawn warm water. Leafy vines have grown to obscure the windows and further around the roof and sides of the room, some of the smaller fronds hanging down with flowering buds beginning to grow. Your specific request of wine and fruits was dutifully fulfilled, as they sit on a small table placed next to the tub for easy reaching.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion says.

“I wanted some space just for us, someplace where we could take it easy for the night.” You reply.

“Well, how thoughtful of you, my dear.”

You take Astarion’s hand, and lead him into the room, and begin the remove your clothes and then his. He seems pleasantly surprised by your offer to remove his clothes for him, but lets you do so anyway. He helps you into the tub first, supporting you as you take your first step into the water, and he follows a second after. You’re sat next to him, getting used to the warmth of the water for a few moments. You then begin to pour two goblets of wine when you feel his eyes watching you.

“Come here, my sweet.” Astarion invites, as his hands find your hips and pull you towards the front of him, so you are placed on his lap, your inner thighs caressing the outsides of his.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re trying to seduce me with all of this.” he teases.

“There’s actually something I’d like to do first, if that’s alright.” You poke back.

“Is it alright if I touch you?” You ask, eyes searching his for consent.

“Darling,” he coos, “I thought you’d never ask.”

You lean into Astarion closely, chests warmly pressed together, feeling his nose gently scrape the side of your neck, your arm outstretched to grab the cloth on the small table behind him, and dip it in the warm water of the tub. Once it is soaked through, you gently wipe it across his collarbones, swiping away any grime and blood brought on by the earlier events of the day. You tenderly move down his body, cleansing his chest and stomach, then proceeding to his arms and hands.

Astarion stares at you with a small, soft smile across his lips, watching you clean him, take care of him. His eyes softly caress your face, carefully taking in the moment of peace and safety, something that he wasn’t familiar with, but had longingly ached for.

Resting the cloth on the side of the tub, you check in with him again.

“How does this feel, my love?” you ask Astarion.

He initially smiles at you, but then his face becomes serious, it takes but a second for him to search his memories for a time where he was able to feel this kind of security.

“I can’t remember a time where I felt this kind of….intimacy. Its nice.” He answers honestly.

“Close your eyes, alright?” You ask.

You pick up the cloth again, gently swiping across his face, removing the last of the dirt and blood. Astarion’s eyes are softly closed, he basks in the moment as he can feel his skin being cleaned. He tenses in the beginning, his forehead creasing ever so slightly, he’s not used to this kind of gentle touch, but after a minute or so his breathing slows and deepens, relaxing into your touch as the safety of you embraces him fully.

Once his face has been cleansed, you place a small and delicate kiss on his cheek. Astarion turns his face towards you until his lips graze yours, staying in this moment for just a minute more. His hand caresses the back of your neck, prompting you to stay there. He kisses you slowly and deeply, and for those few seconds, everything else in the world fades away.

Your head spins lightly when you eventually pull away, cheeks warm and rosy, it seems Astarion feels the same way too. He rests his forehead against yours and places his hands on the small of your back.

It’s a peaceful and pure moment between the two of you, simply enjoying the quiet company of each other, a brief respite. The only sounds are your soft breaths and faint music from a tavern playing off in the distance.

“Allow me,” he gently takes the cloth and douses it in the tub, and returns your actions of cleaning him down. Astarion is careful to brush over the healing marks on your neck from his fangs the night before. He leans in and gingerly kisses the area of your neck where he last tasted you.

Your breath hitches as his teeth gently graze the sensitive area on your neck. Taking advantage of your small moment of bliss, Astarion begins to swipe the cloth across your chest and breasts, cradling them in his hands as he continues to clean you.

“This was supposed to be a night for me to take care of you, not the other way around,” you breathily confess.

“Seems like you enjoy being taken care of this way too, don’t you think, darling?” he smugly asks.

You push away his hands and place them back on your waist as you begin to trail small kisses from his shoulder up to his neck, gently massaging his chest while you do so.

Astarion lets out a small moan into your ear, quiet enough you barely hear it. Your planned priority was his sole pleasure and security, allowing him to feel safety and love as he deserves.

You pause for a moment and begin to work your way to the other side, giving equal attention to the other side of his neck. He firmly places his hands around your lower back, giving into his growing enjoyment.

“Love, although I’m loving this attention from you, we can take care of each other, you know. This doesn’t have to be about just me.” He takes your chin softly so you’re looking directly at him, and pulls you into another deep kiss. You can feel his smirk as you give into him, allowing him to kiss you more passionately than before, as his arms caress around your back, one hand nestled in your hair. He gently tugs at your scalp, pulling you out of the kiss for just a moment.

“I love you.” He whispers delicately, his pupils blown and cheeks lightly flushed.

“And I love you.” You return. He pulls you into a passionate kiss again, growing hungrier the more time passes by. You can begin to feel him grow between your thighs, so you take one hand and caress him ever so gently, encouraging him further.

Astarion lets out another small moan, more audible this time, and places his hands on your breasts again, gently swiping each nipple with this thumbs, making you moan in return. His expert fingers graze you ever so softly, then applies a gentle pressure, causing you grow aroused along with him.

His hands slither down your stomach and around your waist, firmly squeezing your behind before one hand comes back around the front to touch you more intimately. He drags his thumb slowly up your slit, even underwater he can feel your wetness starting to grow. He swipes up again, causing you to moan into the kiss, he reciprocates the moan as you rub your thumb across the top of his hardening member. You stroke him more firmly now, as he does unto you, eliciting filthy sounds from one another.

“I want more,” You breathily request.

“Only if you say ‘please’, my love.” He cheekily demands.

“Please,” You urge him. Satisfied with your instant compliance, Astarion gently pushes one finger inside of you, and begins to rhythmically pump his hand, while the other holds your waist still. You both spend several minutes like this, exploring each other’s body, teasing one another while yours and his lips remain deliciously connected.

Astarion reaches under your thighs, lifting you slightly out of water and gently onto your knees. Your cunt grazes his tip lightly, you balance yourself with your arms placed across his shoulders, crossing them over behind his neck.

“Are you sure want this, love?” Astarion asks, his lips barely leaving yours.

“Of course, baby.” You reply, your mouth leaves his for just a second.

As you slowly sink down onto him, both expelling a series of lustful sounds, you take a moment to adjust to his size. Astarion’s arms curl around your body, holding you as close to him as possible, his kisses grow more intense as he starts to tenderly thrust up into you. Wanting to reciprocate the movement, you lightly bounce on him, causing the tub water to steadily ripple.

You quickly become lost in one another, feeling nothing else but pure pleasure, love filling you both to the brim. He fits you so exquisitely, and he knows it, delicately and lovingly ruining you, over and over again.

The water begins to splash slightly over the edge of the tub the more you both continue, although neither of you notice, as the two of you are entangled with one another, as one connected entity.

The warm tingle in your stomach climbs higher, and your head swings back in reaction. Astarion takes advantage of the exposed flesh of your neck and kisses it, periodically sucking the skin leaving you sure there will be love marks come morning.

“Feed on me, please, I want you to bite me.” You beg, one hand entangled in his hair while the other grips his bicep.

“Are you sure, darling? It’ll hurt for just a second.” Astarion’s lips barely leave your neck as he speaks.

“Mhmm,” Pulling your hair to the side to expose more of your neck to him, granting him full access. Astarion needs no further encouragement, as he sinks his teeth into you, penetrating you for the second time.

It stings deliciously, the opposing mixture of the cold numbness shooting through your body, combining itself with the warmth of the fire between your thighs, you are overwhelmed by the simultaneous different sensations, causing your head to feel dizzy and your body to constrict.

Astarion removes his fangs and presses his forehead into your neck, no longer able to focus on drinking your blood and instead chasing his climax. His stifled moans exhilarate you, and you bounce a little harder, and a little faster, gripping his shoulders as you do so, feeling yourself about to come undone onto him.

His thrusts become sharp and jagged as he reaches his end, his hands gripping your waist so tight they’re bound to leave small round bruises where his fingertips applied so much pressure. The desperate noises Astarion makes are so sweet to yours ears, and are alone enough to bring you to the edge. You come undone around him, squeezing him tight as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. The sensation of you reaching climax around him sends shockwaves through his body a second time, rendering him utterly speechless, his brain only knowing the feeling of pleasure for that brief moment.

It takes a minute for you both to recover, the both of you have your arms coiled around the other. Astarion leans his head back as you rest yours on his shoulder, both you unevenly puffing, trying to catch your breath. He softly grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling you into a small kiss. After a moment, you pull away slightly, caressing his face and staring into his eyes. Astarion smiles back at you, he looks both relaxed and beautifully disheveled.

“My sweet, did you reserve this room just for the hour?” Astarion questions.

“No, I paid for the night.” You answer, breathing still uneven.

“Good,” He says softly, “Because I’m not quite finished with you yet, my love.”

[novasdrabbles]

A Gentle Touch

There is a severe lack of Alma fics you guys. Also I have yet to actually play MHW so if something feels off that's most likely why.

No use of Y/N, SFW, x-reader, written with fem reader in mind but no specific pronouns used

Also I haven’t written something like this in months so bear with me please ;-;

Alma quietly excused herself, rising from the small group and making her way towards the tent you and her shared. Nata bid her goodnight, his own eyes drooping more and more with every passing second as Gemma gently urged him to his bedroll.

The night was still young and alive with music, along with the eager chatter of those who still gathered around the fire sharing both stories and songs. After such a successful hunt earlier, along with the rescue of the Support Team that had been forced off course, everyone was in fairly high spirits. 

You, of course, were relieved as well that everything had worked out in the end. But, you’d ended up burning your palm when dealing with the monster from earlier. Of all the areas it could have retreated to, it chose a hot spring. 

You had taken a potion the second you had the chance, but it would only do so much. The camp medics had assured you that the wound would heal just fine – if you tended to it properly. At worst you would only have new scars to boast when enough time had passed.

She hadn’t seen you since Gemma managed to whisk her away earlier, sitting her down before she had a chance to say otherwise and shoving a drink into her hands. She’d seen the look on your face after you left the medical tent; a look of frustration and dejection that such a small thing would keep you from performing at your best. 

At the time she had wanted to apologize. She still did, in fact. It was her own worrying that caused you to ride out with her in search of the Support Team. She’d noticed you could be quite hard on yourself at times, even if there were only a few minor setbacks out on hunts. 

She poked her head into the tent, a small smile gracing her lips when she spotted your Palico fast asleep in the hammock. But you were nowhere to be seen. She had taken note of that as well. After spending so much time on your own, you still exhibited those ‘lone wolf’ traits of yours. You wandered off on your own quite often, sometimes even without a word to her or Nata. And on nights like these you typically hung around the outskirts, or crept off under the guise of keeping watch. 

When Alma had expressed her concerns to Olivia, asking the veteran hunter what she could do to make you feel more comfortable, all the other woman had done was offer up a knowing smile. 

“Just give ‘em time,” Olivia had said. “That’s all it took for me to come outta my shell when I joined up with my squad. Nothin’ but time.” 

Her feet carried her a few feet away from camp where a secluded ledge overlooked the nearby plains. Sure enough, you were there, muttering curses to yourself as you fumbled with what looked like…bandages?

“There you are,” Alma said, announcing herself before she got too close. The moonlight illuminated your features as you glanced over your shoulder, along with the warm smile you gave her as she approached you. 

“Hey, Alma. I thought you would be asleep by now,” you replied as she took a seat beside you. Alma merely shook her head, letting her legs dangle off the edge as she looked down at the bandages still clutched in your non-dominant hand. Near your leg was a jar of the salve the medics had given to you earlier for your burn. Her brows furrowed as the pieces began to slot together. 

“Are you just now changing your bandages?” The question sounded like more of an accusation coming from her and you quickly averted your gaze. She could only imagine how fast you must’ve soiled the wrappings from earlier, considering you weren’t one to just sit and allow yourself a break. 

“Well…I meant to get it done earlier, but then Gemma needed my help with something and I promised to show Nata how to–” You blinked when she cut you off with a tired sigh, her fingers carefully prying the bandages from your own. “Wait, Alma–” 

“Nope. I don’t want to hear it. It’s the least I can do, after all.” She shot you a look when you tried to protest once more so you begrudgingly allowed her to guide your injured hand into her own. She unscrewed the cap to the salve and scooped out a small amount before gently applying it to your wound. A pained hiss escaped you, and she quickly uttered an apology. 

You grit your teeth as the salve began to ease away some of the pain, the sensation lessening to a dull throb. Alma’s fingers were deft in their work, confident yet careful as she started to wrap your hand. Her own hands were soft, a stark contrast to yours that bore a myriad of scars from fights long past. Before your mind could wander, she softly cleared her throat to get your attention. 

“I wanted to apologize. For before, I mean,” she said softly, her focus shifting from your hand to the quizzical look you gave her. “It’s just…the team’s safety is my responsibility. And you already do so much for everyone around camp. But, despite that, you still stepped forward to make sure they were all right.” Her gaze dropped back to your hand, now wrapped and resting in your own. “I only wish I could have done more. Maybe then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt and–”

  “Alma.” Your tone was gentle, yet firm all the same and when she looked up there was a mirthful look in your eyes. “This injury is no one’s fault but my own. I made a stupid mistake, and so I have to deal with the consequences. Don’t blame yourself for something like this.” Her mouth opened, a number of protests coming to mind, but you quickly shook your head. “And besides, you remember what I said earlier, right? I wanted to help.”

“Yes,” Alma said exasperatedly. “But–”

“But nothing. What’s done is done. And what about you, hm? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how quick you are to try and shoulder so many responsibilities on your own.” Your gaze softened, an endearing smile lifting your lips. Carefully, you placed your uninjured hand atop Alma’s as you leaned closer, the gesture making her breath hitch. 

“You chose me because you said you believed in me. Well, I believe in you too! Because of you I can fight knowing I’ve got the best handler a hunter could ask for watching my back. So, please, don’t be afraid to rely on me. We’re a team, after all. Okay?” Your tone left no room for arguing, and the utter sincerity in your words floored her. She never would have imagined you felt so confident in her abilities. You, the same hunter with such a kind and caring heart, that stared down all manner of monsters without a hint of fear or hesitation. 

Alma felt her cheeks warm at the notion as she managed a bashful nod. “Okay,” she said and the resulting grin you gave her only made her flush more. “Thank you.” 

“Ah, don’t thank me. Just…let me take care of things for you sometimes,” you murmured softly, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. Alma smiled shyly and gave a slight shake of her head. 

“If only you could follow your own advice,” she teased, delighting in the sudden sheepish look that crossed your face. “I also wish you would spend more time with us. Some of the others think you don’t like being at camp because you’re always slipping away on your own.”

“Really?” You asked as your brows furrowed thoughtfully. You retracted your hands as you folded your arms across your chest, a small tilt to your head. Her hands suddenly felt colder without your touch, so she quickly busied them with cleaning her glasses. “I hadn’t noticed.” 

You…hadn’t even noticed your own standoffish behavior? Alma bit back a sigh as she slid her glasses back on.“Well, we’ll work on it. But it would be nice for them to know you as more than just the ‘Hunter,’ you know.” She got to her feet, sparing the plains one last look before extending her hand to you. “I’d say tonight’s the perfect time to do just that.” 

You couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree, a small noise of amusement leaving you as you took her hand. “Lead the way, then.”