#doing your best. helping out. learning from your mistakes
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studyinglogic · 24 hours ago
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[Continued from above]
Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying
Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.
I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.
Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.
A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...
Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying
If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.
However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)
Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.
Mistake 3: Resource Choice
This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.
First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.
Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)
A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.
Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.
Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks
A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).
Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!
Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"
Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...
I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠,我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?
Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.
Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.
Mistake 5: On Translation
I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦~". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.
Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.
Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...
...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.
I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.
Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.
For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":
Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.
Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.
Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!
LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.
Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).
Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.
Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)
A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.
Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.
The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.
I wish you all the best~
Language Apps Suck, Now What?: A Guide to Actually Becoming "Fluent"
The much requested sequel to my DL post that was promised almost a year ago.
I'm going to address all of the techniques that have helped me in my language learning journeys. Since 95% of these came from the fact that in a past language learning mistake, they are titled as my mistakes (and how I would/did things differently going forward). For those that read to the bottom there is a "best universal resources" list.
Disclaimers:
"Fluency" is hard to define and everyone has their own goals. So for the purpose of this post, "fluency" will be defined as "your personal mastery target of the language".
If you just want to pick up a bit of a language to not sound like a total foreigner on vacation or just exchange a few words in a friend's native language, feel free to ignore what doesn't apply, but maybe something here could help make it a little easier.
This is based on my own personal experience and (some) research.
Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying
Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.
I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.
Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.
A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...
Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying
If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.
However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)
Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.
Mistake 3: Resource Choice
This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.
First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.
Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)
A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.
Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.
Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks
A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).
Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!
Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"
Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...
I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠,我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?
Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.
Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.
Mistake 5: On Translation
I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦~". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.
Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.
Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...
...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.
I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.
Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.
For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":
Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.
Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.
Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!
LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.
Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).
Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.
Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)
A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.
Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.
The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.
I wish you all the best~
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gaffney · 2 days ago
Note
Miguel didn't deserve that win at all. He took the spot of a dead guy. WTF! I'm gutted for Robby. What are your thoughts?
do i think miguel deserved to win? yes.
do i think the way the story handed him that win was justified? hell no.
his entire arc in part one and two was about realizing, like robby told him, that not everything is about him. he had to learn that his worth wasn’t tied to being the best, that he didn’t always have to come in first to be valued, loved, or important. and when he finally understood that, he chose to stand by robby, putting his support behind someone else.
and how do they reward him? by making him first place again, completely undermining the lesson he just learned. and how does he even get the chance to win? by abandoning miyagi-do and switching to cobra kai, where he got a free pass to the finals without scoring a single point for them beforehand, thanks to their captain being conveniently killed off. by them forcing axel to cheat and take robby out of the competition just to remove any real obstacles. and then, as if that wasn’t enough, they chose to reframe his cheap shot on robby’s injured shoulder from season one as a brilliant strategic move to help him take down axel.
miguel deserved to win because he put in the work and proved himself. but instead of letting him earn it, they bent over backward to hand him it by tilting the scales, clearing every obstacle by either killing someone off or injuring them, exploiting loopholes, and romanticizing his past mistakes. that’s not the win miguel deserved, and it sure as hell isn’t one he needed.
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redux-iterum · 2 days ago
Note
this might be silly to ask here, but i think you guys give neat advice! i don't know if either of you have experienced this yourselves, but if you have, how do you get over writing anxiety? i find that i place too much value in validation and will sometimes talk myself out of writing something because i fear it's imperfect. is this something either of you have dealt with? if so, how did you get over it?
Perfectionist anxiety is a bitch, and this very much sounds like it! The main piece of advice I can give here is to embrace the truth that things you make sometimes won’t be amazing, and will never be perfect. Perfection is a lie creatives tell themselves is achievable. It simply isn’t. All perfectionism can do is keep you from being happy during the process of making art. It will never do anything else. The concept of “perfect” is your enemy. It’s just going to make you miserable the whole time you’re writing or painting or whatever, because you know what you’ll get isn’t perfect, and you’re striving for it anyway, so you aren’t having fun. And really, that’s what we’re all here for, isn’t it? Fun?
The main thing that’s saved me from reworking stuff over and over again is a lesson I’ve learned, which is being able to say to yourself, “Well, it’s not exactly how I wanted it to be. I don’t know if I like this one. Oh well. Moving on.” There is an immense power in “oh well, moving on” that will keep you creating even when you make something you actively hate. That’s not to say you shouldn’t strive for improvement, nor should you not attempt to do your best. What the goal here is, is the ability to step back from your need for perfection, look over what you’ve made, and be able to both critique it and accept its flaws, and then head off to the next thing. “Fuck it” is your greatest tool here. Ain’t the next Lord of the Rings? Fuck it. Next story.
Take it this way: you’ve learned something new every time you catch a flaw in your writing, which means you’ll do better next time. You are always scaling up in quality as long as you’re seeking to improve. Again, you will never be perfect, but you will be better than you were before. That’s something to celebrate, not scold yourself for! And the only way to do that is to say “fuck it” and keep writing. You can’t think yourself into greatness. You have to create okay stuff first and learn from those mistakes.
As for validation: attention from strangers is nice, but there’s a good exposure therapy in posting something and receiving crickets over and over. You get used to it and gradually learn to lessen its value in your head. I’ve personally been able to adjust to not getting much attention on my personal projects and art that I love so dearly, and just moving forward anyways, because I’m excited to do it, and that’s whose opinion I should care about. It’s the love of the game at this point for me. Importantly, it’s been able to teach me to find the true value in art, which is the process of creation, not the creation itself. I utterly adore making things, to the point that I don’t even really care about the end product anymore or the attention it may or may not get. Sure, I want it to be good and get notes, but what’s the point if I’m not enjoying myself while making it? What’s the value in perfection and attention when I’m miserable because that's all I'm doing this for? I’m the one that loves these characters and this setting the most, right? What else can I do but serve them as best as I can, and keep going as long as I need to? It's no loss if the entire internet doesn't love it the way I do. I'm creating it, and that makes me happy. What else need there be?
That’s how I think of it, at least. I hope this helped a little.
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blueesnow · 2 days ago
Text
Jinguji Ren's Birthday (Year 1) Voicelines Translation.
-You can look at it again on the Event Log, Mini-Event section (for the other boys messages to him) and Talk section (for a one-on-one conversation with you and him) in Idol Page.
-Also the translations might not be fully accurate since I'm not that fluent on jp/en, so if i ever made a mistake do correct me🙏
<You (Player)> Ren: Thank you, Lady. I feel like I'm going crazy from all of the overwhelming love I'm getting from you. Ren: In addition to feeling giddy with happiness, a greedy thought also comes to mind. Like how I don't want to give you to anyone, for example.
<Otoya> Otoya: Happy Birthday! Ren is so mature that I tend to rely on you for help. You look cool too, I'm so jealous~ Ren: Thank you. …You give me too much praise. I'm sure there are many aspects only you can have, Ikki.
<Masato> Masato: I will offer you my sincere blessing at least on your birthday. Happy Birthday, Jinguji. I hope you have a wonderful day. Ren: That's quite unexpected. Are you plotting something? …Oh well, let me say thank you. In between our unfortunate but inseparable relationship.
<Natsuki> Natsuki: Happy Birthday. We're both an Onii-san among everyone. Let's do our best together! Ren: You're right, I'm sure I could become a good "Onii-san" with Shinomi. How about we hold a meeting between the two of us right now?
<Tokiya> Tokiya: Happy Birthday, Ren. I'm always grateful of your nonchalant attention. Ren: Thank you. I also like the easy-going relationship I have with Icchi. Let's go out together again.
<Syo> Syo: Happy Birthday! You always look so picturesque huh, Ren~ I'll be using you as a reference again. Ren: Sure, if you're fine with me. How about we go shopping? I'd like you to pick out some clothes for me too.
<Cecil> Cecil: Happy Birthday, Ren! Ren is always so kind. You're a wonderful person I look up to. Ren: You're praising me too much. But, thanks. It must be because of Cesshi's honesty that I'm like that.
<Reiji> Reiji: Happy Birthday, Ren-Ren☆ Rei-chan will play with you to celebrate~♪ How about we go surfing! Ren: I'm no match for you. You make me want to go right away if you invite me like that. Thank you, let's set up a date.
<Ranmaru> Ranmaru: Happy Birthday. You might be cheeky, but you always do everything that needs to be done. I think that's one of your good strengths. Ren: Thank you, Ran-chan. Despite what you say, your kindness haven't changed at all since the old days.
<Ai> Ai: Happy Birthday, Ren. Not only in real life, but I will also celebrate it once again in the game. Wait for it. Ren: I'm flattered. I love playing game with Aimi too. I can't wait until I log in to the game.
<Camus> Camus: Happy Birthday. I shall continue to make use of you as an outstanding chauffeur from now on. You should feel honored. Ren: Hehe, that means you enjoy going out with me, right? Sure, I'll accompany you anywhere you want.
<Eiichi> Eiichi: Happy Birthday. I think your beautiful manners is one of your strong points that I should learn more from. Ren: Thank you. Perhaps, it's because you're a leader, but you always pay close attention to things in details, huh.
<Kira> Kira: Happy Birthday… The way you look during work… and how you would sometimes show your true self. Either of them… have the power to charm people. Ren: I'm flattered to hear your earnest praise. Likewise, I think you have a good contrast in your personality as well.
<Nagi> Nagi: You're always playing a sexy role, how about you learn to be cute once in a while? Since it's your birthday, Nagi will teach you! Ren: Learning how to be cute, huh. It seems quite interesting. Thank you. Could I ask you for help right away?
<Eiji> Eiji: Happy Birthday. If you don't mind, I could tell you about my recommended spicy food restaurants. Ren: Thank you. That's a very interesting topic. Since you like cooking, I suppose that means you know a lot about it?
<Van> Van: Happy Birthday! You like card games, right? It would be fun to try it with 18 of us! Ren: That's an interesting idea! I'll have to check out what we can do with a big number of people. …Oh, I won't hand over the victory to you.
<Yamato> Yamato: Happy Birthday! You have such a strong core. Are darts good for building muscles? Ren: Thank you. Although it mainly uses one arm, it's also some sort of whole workout, so maybe it does.
<Shion> Shion: Happy Birthday. I could feel your deep love for everyone… from the way you carried yourself on stage. It was magnificent… Ren: Thank you. It makes me really happy to hear that from someone who makes his own atmosphere with his unique worldview.
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burnedself · 1 year ago
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Something something all of the Doctor's post Time War incarnations being colored by it vs one of 12's last statements being about 'leaving the battlefield' something something 13 being more emotionally well-adjusted in contrast something something
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kotori-mochi · 1 year ago
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Can't afford art school?
After seeing post like this 👇
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And this gem 👇
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As well as countless of others from the AI generator community. Just talking about how "inaccessible art" is, I decided why not show how wrong these guys are while also helping anyone who actually wants to learn.
Here is the first one ART TEACHERS! There are plenty online and in places like youtube.
📺Here is my list:
Proko (Free, mostly teaches anatomy and how to draw people. But does have art talks and teaches the basics.)
Marc Brunet (Free but he does have other classes for a cheap price. Use to work for Blizzard and teaches you everything)
Aaron Rutten (free, tips about art, talks about art programs and the best products for digital art)
BoroCG (free, teaches a verity of art mediums from 3D modeling to digital painting. As well as some tips that can be used across styles)
Jesse J. Jones (free, talks about animating)
Jesus Conde (free, teaches digital painting and has classes in Spanish)
Mohammed Agbadi (free, he gives some advice in some videos and talks about art)
Ross Draws (free, he does have other classes for a good price. Mostly teaching character designs and simple backgrounds.)
SamDoesArts (free, gives good advice and critiques)
Drawfee Show (free, they do give some good advice and great inspiration)
The Art of Aaron Blaise ( useful tips for digital art and animation. Was an animator for Disney. Mostly nature art)
Bobby Chiu ( useful tips and interviews with artist who are in the industry or making a living as artist)
Sinix Design (has some tips on drawing people)
Winged canvas (art school for free on a verity of mediums)
Bob Ross (just a good time, learn how to paint, as well as how too relax when doing art. "there are no mistakes only happy accidents", this channel also provides tips from another artist)
Scott Christian Sava (Inspiration and provides tips and advice)
Pikat (art advice and critiques)
Drawbox (a suggested cheap online art school, made of a community of artist)
Skillshare (A cheap learning site that has art classes ranging from traditional to digital. As well as Animation and tutorials on art programs. All under one price, in the USA it's around $34 a month)
Human anatomy for artist (not a video or teacher but the site is full of awesome refs to practice and get better at anatomy)
Second part BOOKS, I have collected some books that have helped me and might help others.
📚Here is my list:
The "how to draw manga" series produced by Graphic-sha. These are for manga artist but they give great advice and information.
"Creating characters with personality" by Tom Bancroft. A great book that can help not just people who draw cartoons but also realistic ones. As it helps you with facial ques and how to make a character interesting.
"Albinus on anatomy" by Robert Beverly Hale and Terence Coyle. Great book to help someone learn basic anatomy.
"Artistic Anatomy" by Dr. Paul Richer and Robert Beverly Hale. A good book if you want to go further in-depth with anatomy.
"Directing the story" by Francis Glebas. A good book if you want to Story board or make comics.
"Animal Anatomy for Artists" by Eliot Goldfinger. A good book for if you want to draw animals or creatures.
"Constructive Anatomy: with almost 500 illustrations" by George B. Bridgman. A great book to help you block out shadows in your figures and see them in a more 3 diamantine way.
"Dynamic Anatomy: Revised and expand" by Burne Hogarth. A book that shows how to block out shapes and easily understand what you are looking out. When it comes to human subjects.
"An Atlas of animal anatomy for artist" by W. Ellenberger and H. Dittrich and H. Baum. This is another good one for people who want to draw animals or creatures.
Etherington Brothers, they make books and have a free blog with art tips.
📝As for Supplies, I recommend starting out cheap, buying Pencils and art paper at dollar tree or 5 below. If you want to go fancy Michaels is always a good place for traditional supplies. They also get in some good sales and discounts. For digital art, I recommend not starting with a screen art drawing tablet as they are usually more expensive.
For the Best art Tablet I recommend either Xp-pen, Bamboo or Huion. Some can range from about 40$ to the thousands.
💻As for art programs here is a list of Free to pay.
Clip Studio paint ( you can choose to pay once or sub and get updates. Galaxy, Windows, macOS, iPad, iPhone, Android, or Chromebook device. )
Procreate ( pay once for $9.99 usd, IPAD & IPHONE ONLY)
Blender (for 3D modules/sculpting, animation and more. Free)
PaintTool SAI (pay but has a 31 day free trail)
Krita (Free)
mypaint (free)
FireAlpaca (free)
Aseprite ($19.99 usd but has a free trail, for pixel art Windows & macOS)
Drawpile (free and for if you want to draw with others)
IbisPaint (free, phone app ONLY)
Medibang (free, IPAD, Android and PC)
NOTE: Some of these can work on almost any computer like Clip and Sai but others will require a bit stronger computer like Blender. Please check their sites for if your computer is compatible.
So do with this information as you will but as you can tell there are ways to learn how to become an artist, without breaking the bank. The only thing that might be stopping YOU from using any of these things, is YOU.
I have made time to learn to draw and many artist have too. Either in-between working two jobs or taking care of your family and a job or regular school and chores. YOU just have to take the time or use some time management, it really doesn't take long to practice for like an hour or less. YOU also don't have to do it every day, just once or three times a week is fine.
Hope this was helpful and have a great day.
"also apologies for any spelling or grammar errors, I have Dyslexia and it makes my brain go XP when it comes to speech or writing"
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monsterfactoryfanfic · 7 months ago
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if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:
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Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.
It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:
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This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?
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Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.
Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:
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SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."
That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.
The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.
HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.
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Uh oh!
Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.
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You can guess where this is going.
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So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.
Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.
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hugsandchaos · 4 months ago
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I’m writing this in the perspective of the citizens of Amity Park, just an fyi
Rules for interacting with Phantom
1. Don’t go looking for him. Phantom knows when someone is looking for him and will avoid you at all costs.
2. It’s suggested to learn a little sign language since Phsntom with randomly switch from English to ghost speak. This change seems uncomfortable in most cases and causes him distress when he can’t communicate what he’s trying to say.
3. If he picks you up or grabs your hand and starts pulling on you, don’t freak out. He’s trying to move you out of harm’s way. Follow him until he lets go.
4. If he approaches you at night and asks if he can stargaze with you, say yes. You won’t be in trouble if you say no, but we’re trying to get him used to humans.
5. If you spot him, don’t go out of your way to approach him. He doesn’t like that. He’ll notice you coming.
6. If you spot him and he’s near something you need, such as the entrance to your workplace or your campfire, simply say hi to him and continue to avoid startling him. He’s been reported to conjure up ice spikes from the ground around him or shoot ectoplasm when he’s startled, so avoid doing so if you can.
7. If you notice the Fentons near where Phantom is, try to redirect them. Phantom is our only real line of defense against other ghosts who want to cause harm.
8. If you hear a loud, haunting wail, don’t worry. That’s possibly Phantom’s most powerful weapon, and it’s highly effective against other ghosts. This is usually taken as a sign that the town is now safe again. Do not approach Phantom after he uses this power unless you want to get punched in the face. This power takes up most of his strength and leaves him vulnerable, which makes him extra cautious and scared of both humans and ghosts. If he’s injured and you want to help, it’s best to go in preparing for retaliation. (Extra warning: Phantom’s saliva contains ectoplasm, which is essentially acid for anything living. Be VERY careful, because he will try to bite as a last resort. Try to make sure he knows you’re there to help before touching him.)
9. If you’re a ghost hunter and you harm Phantom, and you hear a loud groan in the distance that oddly reminds you of a broken grandfather clock, apologize and do what you can to fix your mistake immediately. Phantom isn’t all alone. He has allies, and some of them, you never want to meet.
10. If he approaches you and strikes up conversation, it’s your choice to respond or not.
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00valentina-writes00 · 1 month ago
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Dating Sevika headcanons (sfw sorry gang)
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•You once tried to steal her cigar as a joke. Big mistake. Sevika caught you mid-act, lifted you with one arm, and said, “Cute. Don’t do it again.” You still did it again.
•Sevika’s idea of cooking is tossing something in a pan and hoping for the best. She’ll scoff at recipes and mutter, “I don’t need instructions.” Spoiler: she absolutely needs instructions. Burnt toast has become a running joke in your relationship.
•Every time she gets into a bar fight, you’re in the background yelling, “Not the face! I love her face!” She pretends not to hear you while decking someone twice her size.
•She once used her metal arm to open a stubborn jar of pickles. Now she’s your go-to for all tough jar lids. She grumbles, but you caught her smiling the third time.
•Sevika hates when you try to join her poker games. You can’t keep a straight face, and the other players eat you alive. She’s banned you from sitting at her table, but you keep sneaking in to “help her win.”
•If someone so much as glances at you wrong, she’ll glare at them until they shrink back into their seat. Once, a drunk guy tried to flirt with you at The Last Drop. Sevika didn’t even stand up; she just cracked her knuckles, and he bolted.
•Sevika doesn’t do romantic pillow talk. Instead, she’ll grumble about how “these damn chem-barons can’t organize for shit,” then roll over and fall asleep. You’ve learned to just nod along and kiss her forehead.
•You tried to kiss her while she had a cigar in her mouth. She just deadpanned, “You wanna taste smoke that bad?” and blew a puff right at you.
•She’ll act annoyed when you dote on her—calling her “big, scary Sevika” or pinching her cheeks—but secretly, she lives for your attention. She once sulked for hours when you forgot to kiss her goodbye.
•She rarely gets drunk, but when she does, she becomes weirdly sentimental. She’ll hold your face in her hands, stare at you with bleary eyes, and slur, “You’re too good for me. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
•On her rare days off, Sevika becomes the ultimate couch potato. You’ll find her sprawled out, watching trashy reality shows with the volume way too high. She’ll deny it later, but you’ve caught her rooting for her favorite contestant.
•She’ll never admit she’s wrong in an argument. But later, she’ll shove your favorite snack into your hands as a peace offering. That’s as close to an apology as you’re getting.
•Sevika loves making you laugh, though she won’t admit it. She’ll mutter something sarcastic under her breath just to hear you giggle, then pretend she didn’t care.
•Once, you heard a noise outside at night. Sevika grabbed a crowbar, stormed outside, and returned five minutes later saying, “It was just a cat. Go back to bed.” You’re 90% sure she scared that cat into never coming back.
•Every now and then, Sevika will surprise you with something sweet—a trinket from the market, a rare flower she found, or even just a quiet moment where she pulls you into her lap and murmurs, “I missed you.” She’ll act like it’s no big deal, but you know better.
•If someone so much as looks at you wrong, Sevika is ready to throw hands. She’ll casually step in front of you, her massive frame blocking the offender, and ask with a chillingly calm voice, “You got something to say?” Spoiler: they don’t.
•Sevika doesn’t do flowers or chocolates, but she’ll slide a bag of your favorite snacks across the table with a gruff, “Saw these on my way back.” Or she’ll casually fix something broken around your place, claiming it’s no big deal.
•Sevika loves having you sit on her lap. Whether you’re watching a game at The Last Drop, lounging at home, or just chatting, her favorite place for you is right on her thighs. She’ll rest her chin on your shoulder and mutter how lucky she is to have you.
•Sevika loves making sure everyone knows you’re hers. A possessive hand on your waist, a kiss in a crowded room, or a quiet, low-toned threat to anyone who tries to flirt with you—she’s got it all covered.
•While she’s the definition of tough to everyone else, Sevika melts for you. She’ll roll her eyes when you call her “soft,” but she secretly loves it when you snuggle up to her or kiss her scarred cheek.
•If you catch her doing something sweet—like tucking a blanket around you or cooking breakfast—she’ll grumble, “Don’t get used to it,” while secretly hoping you do.
•Sevika has a habit of holding her cigar out to you, offering you a puff with a teasing smirk. She’ll chuckle if you cough but will be unreasonably proud if you manage to handle it.
•Sevika notices everything about you. If you’re feeling down, she’ll subtly try to cheer you up without making a big deal out of it. If you’re tired, she’ll drag you to bed (even if you protest).
•Sevika thinks it’s hilarious when you try to arm wrestle her. She’ll let you think you’re winning for a few seconds before slamming your hand down with a wicked grin.
•Sevika is not a morning person. If you try to wake her up early, she’ll groan, bury her face in the pillow, and mumble something about five more minutes—which turns into an hour.
•Sevika is strong, resilient, and seemingly unshakable—but when it comes to you, she’s a goner. You’re her world, her light, and the reason she fights so hard to survive.
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voxslays · 3 months ago
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HAZBIN MEN AS DADS
Featuring >>> Adam, Alastor, Angel Dust (Anthony), Lucifer, Husk, Vox, & Valentino x Reader (Separately) as fathers.
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(not proofread if that wasn’t obvious lol)
Adam:
Total boy dad. I can see him with a little girl, (let’s be honest, his daughter would 100% become an exorcist and take over after he retires as commander (if he ever retires lol)), but he would turn his son into the the next exorcist commander.
Adam is definitely a bit misogynistic…and no matter what you do, atleast a little bit of that would be passed down to your child. If Adam had a son (not him already having two other sons…), he would start training him at a very young age. (Kinda like the career tributes from the hunger games if yk what I mean. (Oh, you don’t? I don’t blame you lol. Idk what I even meant by this tbh. Don’t worry about it-))
With a girl, I can 100% see him being overly protective TO THE EXTREME. He’s the type to scare off teenage boys lol.
Alastor:
Is probably the best dad on this list (except for Luci ofc.) Is super protective of his family. Would not let your baby out of his sight for the first few weeks. Would offer to help you with the baby when it wakes up crying late at night.
Is totally a girl dad. He would willingly play dress up and have tea parties with her in her room…but it will not be mentioned outside of there. When going out for an outing, he would dress her up to match his colors—red & black—and give you a few extra minutes to get ready.
The two of you want some alone time? He’ll ask Rosie. If she’s busy he is forcing either Husk or Niffty to watch the child. Alastor also most definitely keeps your young, innocent child away from Angel Dust for ‘reasons’ he doesn’t want to elaborate on. Your child will inherit his powers and will be almost as strong as him one day!
Husk:
Okay…so first of all, the elephant in the room. His alcoholism. I don’t think Husk would completely stop drinking, but would tone it down for the sake of you and your child. When he’s drinking/drunk, he would make sure he wasn’t around your child, not wanting that kid to see the ‘real’ him.
He would totally be a girl dad. He would completely deny it but we all know it’s true. Like Alastor, if your daughter wanted him to dress up, have a tea party with him, etc. I think it would take a little more convincing than Alastor but in the end he would do it.
Would be overly protective. ESPECIALLY AROUND ALASTOR. Husk would make sure that your child was atleast six feet away from the deer demon at all times. Husk obviously has lots of experience with Alastor as a person, so he of all people knows that Alastor could (and maybe would???) manipulate his spawn into a deal.
Angel Dust:
Angel is extremely excited…but…He is nervous. VERY anxious.
Angel would be a good dad, but he is worried about his deal with Val. Who knows what Val would do if he found out he was in another relationship…let alone with a child! When the child in question is born, he does everything in his power to hide them from Val.
If Val found out, he would be pissed. After calming down (barely), he would try to get your child under contract to punish Angel. Therefore, Angel is obviously very protective. Angel would teach your child how to be street-smart and survive on the streets of hell. Your child would learn from Angel’s mistakes.
Lucifer:
WHAT? HES GONNA BE A DAD (again)!? He is so stoked. Before the baby is even born they have everything they could ever want. Anything for his little duckling.
Your child would be homeschooled, but not by you. By the most well-known and well-educated members of Hell’s society. Your child is truly getting a million dollar education. Oh! And if your child decides to get a higher education after high school? It’s already taken care of. Lucifer makes sure that there are schools ready to take your child to college before your baby even turns two!
For some characters, I feel like they would either be girl dads or boy dads, but Lucifer could truly be either. With a little girl, I could totally see him playing dress up or Barbies with her, no problem! With a boy, same thing.
Vox:
Your child hit the jackpot. I mean…who wouldn’t want the richest overlord in all of pride to be their father? I just pray the kid doesn’t come out looking like a leapfrog or iPad…
Your child would be an iPad kid (vPad?) They would have all the newest technology and toys, they wouldn’t even know what to do with it all! Seriously though, this kid 100% has a playroom just filled with all the toys Vox either made or bought for them. He definitely spoils them (and you).
Your kid is a nepo baby. As they get into their teenage years, Vox would make sure they started to gain fame. Whether it’s by singing or acting (or both), or becoming a powerful overlord like himself, Vox would help them reach that.
Both you and Vox would make sure that your baby is supervised around Val and Velvette, if Vox even lets the kid around Valentino. He does NOT want Valentino trying to swindle them into a deal.
Valentino:
Bestie...What were you thinking? Let’s be honest. Valentino would not be the greatest dad. Definitely not the worst, but not great.
He would 100% leave your kid unsupervised. You’d better always be watching because he definitely isn’t. Speaking of supervision, Val would just randomly bring your child into his studio…When the two of you are spending ‘time’ together, he would either get Vel or Vox to watch the baby, or one of the souls he has under contract. Is surprisingly overprotective.
Val would teach make sure your child knows Spanish, threatening to ‘disown the brat’ if they refused. Luckily, you are there to stop Valentino from going off on your baby. Your child definitely learns a few Spanish swears from him.
TYSM FOR 1K NOTES GUYS! I really appreciate the support. As of now, this is my most liked post ever. I’m glad you guys enjoyed it so much! Thank you! <3
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cazshmere · 3 months ago
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12th House Sign in the Natal Chart and How you can Heal and Find Closure from Past Wounds 🩵
materialist🔖
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DISCLAIMER : healing is a journey, not a destination, and everyone moves at their own pace. these tips are here to give you a nudge, not to create pressure or perfection. if you’re reading this and some things resonate, that’s wonderful :) take what feels right and leave the rest. and remember, there’s no one right way to heal or find closure. it’s okay to stumble, feel lost, or take a break. trust that every small step forward, even the tiniest ones, are part of the process. be kind to yourself along the way; you’re doing the best you can 🩵
🧩 aries in the 12th house
1. you’re bold in action, but sometimes hesitant in introspection. reflect on fears you might avoid and tackle them directly, like you would any challenge.
2. pent-up frustrations weigh on your subconscious. try activities like boxing, painting, or writing letters you’ll never send.
3. give yourself time alone without needing constant action. Silence and stillness help you get in touch with buried emotions.
4. reflect on times you acted quickly and accept that growth often means making mistakes.
5. indulge in something silly, like playing a game or watching cartoons. It helps you reconnect with yourself. watching your comfort movie with your favourite snacks will surely help
HEALING TIP : try journaling with a twist : write letters to yourself from different ages, like your 5-year-old self or your future self, to see your emotions from new perspectives. this could be super cathartic for you and help you move through the hard feelings holding you back also try meditation that is targeted towards inner peace
🧩 taurus in the 12th house
1. learn to release your hold on past pain. Healing for you often means loosening your grip on comfort zones, even in memories.
2. reflect on areas where you’ve felt unappreciated, finding self-worth from within rather than external validation.
3. you resist change, so make small, gradual adjustments to your daily life that invite healing over time.
4. practice acceptance of things you cannot control or predict; even small, symbolic acts like letting go of a token can help.
5. revisit an old hobby that once brought you joy, like gardening, knitting, or cooking. it’ll remind you of your inner peace.
HEALING TIP : try a sensory grounding exercise: touch something soft, listen to calming music, and smell something grounding like lavender to soothe your mind and body. also something that can temporarily help is watching a super scary movie or just eating spicy food, it can help you distract yourself from your thoughts, at least momentarily
🧩 gemini in the 12th house
1. your mind runs fast, but your 12th house challenges you to slow down and acknowledge buried insecurities.
2. release old narratives, whether it’s past gossip, harsh words, or regrets, let go of thoughts that weigh you down. Practice rephrasing past stories with kindness.
3. try creative outlets that let you express emotions without words, like art or dance, to connect with deeper feelings.
4. when you socialize, make time for connections that feel supportive and honest, without intellectual posturing.
5. quieting your inner monologue helps you access the quiet truths below the surface. Breathing exercises can help here.
HEALING TIP : try recording voice memos on your phone when you feel overwhelmed. Sometimes saying things out loud can help you make sense of them faster than writing.
🧩 cancer in the 12th house
1. you tend to tuck away your deepest fears. Make time to reflect on past emotions without judgment or the need to ‘fix’ them.
2. address any unconscious attachment to people or situations that no longer serve you, knowing it’s okay to need change.
3. offer compassion to yourself, revisit times when you felt misunderstood or unsupported, and give your younger self the love they needed.
4. learn to let go without feeling abandoned. Spend time nurturing your sense of self apart from your relationships.
5. forgive old wounds, allow yourself to release grudges or hurts, understanding that they don’t define your future connections.
HEALING TIP : write a letter to someone from your past you’ve never fully moved on from, then release it (you don’t have to send it).
🧩 leo in the 12th house
1. step back from needing validation, explore who you are outside of praise or recognition. spend time with yourself, just being rather than performing.
2. acknowledge areas where you might have felt rejected or unappreciated. practice self-love that doesn’t rely on others’ feedback.
3. try activities where you’re a beginner. learning something new can help you find power in vulnerability.
4. let go of ego-driven fears, focus on what makes you feel genuinely fulfilled, not just admired. reframe your goals around personal joy rather than approval.
5. reclaim your authenticity by exploring what brings you joy outside of an audience, like a private creative hobby that brings you peace.
HEALING TIP : try visualising your inner child, close your eyes and picture yourself as a child full of hope and joy, and send love to that younger version of you.
🧩 virgo in the 12th house
1. acknowledge that some things don’t need fixing. practice letting go without feeling the need to control every detail.
2. practice self-compassion, allow room for mistakes and honor your efforts without focusing solely on flaws. embrace your progress, not perfection.
3. stop overanalyzing (ik it’s hard but your overthinking is what causes majority of your problems, the more you overthink the more power you’re giving to those unwanted thoughts) give your mind permission to take a break. activities like meditative gardening or painting can help soothe the inner critic.
4. connect with your intuition, trust your instincts rather than rationalizing everything. allow yourself to simply “know” without overthinking it.
5. embrace the chaos haha, let things be messy or spontaneous without judgment. Flexibility helps you grow beyond rigid expectations.
HEALING TIP : try writing a list of what you’re grateful for, it's a simple but powerful tool to shift your focus from worries to abundance.
🧩 libra in the 12th house
1. find comfort in solitude, learn to enjoy your own company, separate from others’ opinions or companionship. practice inner peace.
2. let go of past people-pleasing, allow yourself to address buried feelings of resentment that may stem from overextending for others.
3. balance your inner harmony, focus on inner alignment rather than external harmony. Journaling or meditating on your needs helps you center.
4. heal relationship wounds, reflect on past connections that left an impact. release blame, knowing each taught you something valuable.
5. set boundaries with yourself, give yourself permission to say “no” without guilt. embrace your inner balance, free from others’ demands.
HEALING TIP : you can try a heart-centered meditation to connect with self-love and release neediness for outside validation or try a balance-focused yoga routine, it can be both grounding and soothing, helping you connect with your inner equilibrium.
🧩 scorpio in the 12th house
1. embrace your emotional vulnerability, lean into your feelings without fearing loss or control. Sharing emotions helps relieve hidden weight.
2. release grudges (ik this is something hard for you but letting go is better than holding on to the things that cause you problems - forgive but don’t forget perhaps), practice forgiveness as a way of releasing old hurts that drain you.
3. face your darkest worries with courage, knowing they don’t define you. Write them down and let them go.
4. reclaim personal power, you’re literally THAT bitch don’t forget that queen, focus on how you can empower yourself from within, instead of seeking control externally.
5. trust others with your feelings when it feels right; vulnerability can be deeply healing.
HEALING TIP : you can try shadow journaling by exploring both light and dark thoughts to understand yourself more deeply or if you want something fun instead try listening to a mystery podcast or an immersive story app where you can dive into thrilling narratives. this helps you tap into your emotional depth while being entertained, offering healing through mystery and intrigue.
🧩 sagittarius in the 12th house
1. look inward for meaning, sometimes answers lie within, not in new experiences. find fulfillment in self-reflection rather than escapism.
2. explore spiritual grounding, sagittarius craves meaning, so find practices that connect you to a sense of purpose, like guided meditation.
3. release judgment and let go of self-criticism about past “mistakes.” accept that growth is a journey, not a fixed outcome.
4. embrace introspection by giving your adventurous mind permission to slow down and find contentment in stillness.
5. cultivate patience please (so so important) you may be prone to quick fixes; practice patience with yourself and your journey to healing.
HEALING TIP : start a personal travel vlog (even if it's just to document your local adventures) or use digital journaling apps to record your thoughts, dreams, and philosophical insights. It’ll allow you to process your emotions while in a fun way <3
🧩 capricorn in the 12th house
1. release pressure to always be “on”, let go of needing to achieve every moment. It’s okay to just “be” sometimes, without a goal in sight.
2. forgive your past mistakes, address any old guilt you’re holding onto. you’re allowed to grow beyond your old decisions and learn without punishment.
3. embrace vulnerability (very important) being open about your feelings doesn’t weaken you; it strengthens your ability to understand and trust yourself.
4. trust life’s timing, not everything has to be perfectly planned. lean into moments of uncertainty and find peace in simply experiencing.
5. reflect on your worth beyond productivity, spend time exploring who you are outside of what you “do” or “produce.”
HEALING TIP : try weekly self-check-ins to connect with your needs and desires, away from the hustle of daily demands.
🧩 aquarius in the 12th house
1. embrace your quirks and shadows, you have a unique mind, so allow yourself to be different even in your struggles. reflect on hidden fears and accept them.
2. let go of needing to understand everything, release the need to overanalyze or intellectualize every emotion; trust that some things are just felt, not solved.
3. balance independence with connection, don’t isolate yourself too much. healing also comes through genuine human connections.
4. explore spontaneous introspection, give yourself the freedom to meditate or journal in unconventional ways, like painting or singing.
5. lean into self-compassion, you may be hard on yourself for being “too different” or processing wounds and hurts “differently” but learn to embrace that unique perspective as your strength.
HEALING TIP : try creative expression exercises that bring your thoughts to life, like freeform art, dance, editing, posting stuff online (blogs, reels etch) or sound journaling helps too.
🧩 pisces in the 12th house
1. set healthy boundaries with emotions, your empathy can pull you into others’ feelings. spend time differentiating between your own emotions and theirs.
2. give yourself closure without finality, understand that sometimes closure isn’t perfect or neat, and let go of needing every question answered.
3. create a soothing retreat, build a healing environment, like a cozy corner or blanket fort lmao, where you can escape and connect with your inner peace.
4. release victim mentality, move beyond past hardships by reclaiming your personal power and seeing yourself as a survivor, not a sufferer.
5. TRUST. YOUR. INTUITION. you’re naturally in touch with the unseen. lean into that gift by tuning into your feelings without judgment.
HEALING TIP : create a healing playlist filled with calming music, or even soothing ASMR sounds, to help you unwind and feel safe in your own space.
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banner & pic credits to the rightful owners <3
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simpjaes · 4 months ago
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Loser jake who's just so pussydrunk™️ that he overstimulates tf out of reader and reader tries to crawl away but he just pulls them back and begs them for one more he promises he will be good :(( (we love loser!jake in this household 🫶)
the one where jake, a super loser, accidentally gives the best and most painful head. warning: jake is SUCH a fucking loser fr, like he has fumbled every girl ever before this.
It's not even that he's a loser, it's just that you never knew someone so fucking awkward could eat this aggressively.
yet, there he is, rubbing his nose in it like a puppy being scolded. You could argue he's enjoying it more than you are if his moans are anything to go by. Only because he's already gotten you off twice this way, and has yet to stop and let you breath.
Your legs have grown so weak that you can't even close them in an attempt to squeeze his head away, and all that's left now is the energy left in your arms. You release his hair, where you were trying to pull him back but he, instead, endures the pain of you trying to make him stop.
He knows it feels good for you, he can tell by the way your clit swells and throbs in his mouth. He couldn't stop even if you begged, even if you kicked him square in the face. He'd find his way back and attach these slick lips right back to you, yearning, fucking pining for one more. Just one more.
And upon that release of his hair, you grip the rug under you, trying to pull yourself up and away from him. Stuttering, almost sobbing at the sensitivity of it all, but he just drags you back down. Hands on your hips preventing you from escaping the relentless assault.
Only when you finally give in, when he releases a guttural moan/growl right into your sopping cunt do you break for a third time. It hurts, god it hurts so bad, but at the same time you can't help but call out his name desperately. As if inviting him for a fourth, or even a fifth orgasm.
A mistake on your part, truthfully, because his tongue only goes stiffer at that, and now he's got three fingers fitting inside of you just to prolong the painful orgasm. So messy with it too, you can feel the slippery heat as he slides his tongue up and down, in and out of each fold and crevasse your pussy offers.
Only when the tears start falling and you go silent does Jake pull up to breathe a true and intentional full breath. He looks at you, pupils blown out wide and mouth slack.
"I did good?" He asks, anticipating some sort of praise, and all you can do in your half-dissociated state is laugh.
This motherfucker? The Jake Sim who managed to fumble girl after girl? The Jake Sim who made you pity him during this short project session of an assignment, admitting that since college started, he hadn't landed a single hookup? The same guy who dead ass asked if you wanted him to leave when you laid down on this floor and spread your legs for him? Enticing him, fucking seducing him to try his skills out on you? He's asking if he did good? Despite the pain, and ignoring the way you can't even sit yourself up to look at him clearly, all you can do is nod in a daze. "Where did you learn how to do all that?" You mumble incoherently. Jake simply shrugs. "Ionno, i watch a lot of porn I guess."
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mournthebird · 5 months ago
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Shower Suds.
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summary: You give Soldat his first bath out of captivity.
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warnings: Post!HYDRA Winter Soldier | Non-sexual nudity | Mentions of scars and injuries | Self-Harm mention | Post!HTP and abuse | PTSD symptoms & behavior
a/n: This wasn't supposed to be so long, but somehow it always happens when I write about him. Something sorta comforting with some recovery thrown in there. Unedited because I worked on this for so long lol ignore mistakes please! ;; wc: 5.8k
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Filthy. You felt bad, really.
There was a lot of problems to tackle with Soldat's condition, but first thing's first...the soldier needed a bath. Badly.
He was dirty, his hair knotted, matted, greasy, his skin was covered in sweat and dirt, probably blood under the black uniform he still wore. The poor man stunk, and he didn't seem to even notice. Or care.
You found yourself in a bit of a hard situation, unsure of the best approach to cleanse him. A bath seemed problematic; he would essentially be marinating in his own grime, which was far from ideal. Would he sit for that long? Would he fight you? You weren't entirely positive.
On the other hand, a shower presented its own set of challenges. Your observations over the past days had revealed his struggle with prolonged standing. He didn't seem to want to stand for very long and often sat or laid down when he could. The majority of his time was spent either huddled in the furthest corner of the room or barricaded within the confines of the small closet, as if seeking refuge from an unseen threat.
As you mulled over the options, weighing the pros and cons of each, you ultimately figured a shower would be better in terms of cleanliness…if anything, you could have him sit in the bottom of the tub. Better than sitting in dirty water with the increased possibility of infection.
But there was one problem. How the hell would you get him into the bathroom in the first place?
You took a breath in, preparing for the worst, and went to the room he stayed in. It was the spare room in your apartment you barely used, but had been furnished as a bedroom in case someone you knew needed a place for a night or something. Not that you ever figured your friends would want to stay with you, you didn't have many to begin with. When you came in, your eyes scanned the room until they landed on him, spotting him huddled up in the corner like expected.
He didn't look up at you when you walked in, his gaze fixed downward and obscured by the curtain of his long, unkempt hair. The stillness that enveloped him was almost unnerving. Only when you took a few steps closer did he react, his head snapping up at you. His eyes bright blue against the dark, messy ink that surrounded them, like he tried to smudge off the black paint but failed.
You took another step forward, your movements slow and deliberate. You could see the change in his demeanor immediately with your approach, even as careful as it was; his breathing became more rapid and shallow, his chest rising and falling at an accelerated pace like he was preparing to be harmed.
"It's okay," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand extended slightly, palm open to try to soothe him. Carefully, you lowered yourself to his level, bending your knees until you were crouching before him. This position, you hoped, would make you appear less imposing and more approachable.
In the few days he had been in your care, you had begun to discern patterns in his behavior, learning to recognize the subtle cues that indicated his comfort level. You had started to understand which actions he perceived as threatening and which ones helped him feel more at ease. It was a delicate balance, one that required patience and constant observation, but you were determined to create an environment where he could begin to feel safe and secure.
"I think...a bath sounds nice. Doesn't it?" You asked him softly, smiling slightly to show you weren't intending to do any sort of harm. "It will feel good to clean off all that dirt...nice and warm water too...you've been shivering." You noted how cold he appeared to be, he was still latched in his cold clothes from when you found him. You were surprised the uniform kept in water.
He remained motionless, prompting you to reluctantly take a step backwards to leave him alone, you’d try later. As you turned away, the faint sound of movement caught your attention. Glancing back, you saw the soldier had risen to his feet, his eyes fixed upon you with an air of expectancy. "Would you like to come and shower?" you inquired, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Да." His voice was a harsh, grating sound, reminiscent of shattered glass scraping against parched earth. It was as though he hadn't uttered a word or tasted a drop of water in an eternity. Despite the brevity and roughness of his reply, it carried a weight of affirmation. You found yourself oddly relieved by this simple acknowledgment. It wasn't much, but in that moment, it felt like a significant step forward. The fact that he had agreed seemed like a small victory.
You had him in the bathroom. That was a good thing.
You pivoted slowly to face him, your gaze carefully scanning his imposing figure. For behaving so meekly, he was an intimidating body to be this close to. Your eyes meticulously traced the contours of his suit, lingering on the intricate array of tactical belts and buckles that adorned his outfit. Each piece seemed to serve a specific purpose, hinting at the dangerous nature of his profession. Your hand tentatively reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they approached one of the sturdy buckles.
Your action was met with an immediate and startling response from the soldier. His metal hand shot up with inhuman speed, grasping your wrist tightly, the cold metal a stark contrast to your warm skin. His hold was firm and unyielding, like a vice grip, yet it wasn't painful.
As his hand clasped around your wrist, his entire body tensed, transforming into a living statue. You couldn't help but flinch slightly at the abruptness of his reaction, your body instinctively recoiling even as his grip held you in place.
"I-It's okay, I promise," you managed to say, your voice deliberately calm and steady to avoid startling him further. You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "I'm just going to help you undress for the shower... I promise I won't hurt you or do anything you're not comfortable with. We're just getting you cleaned up, that's all."
Your words didn't seem to have much effect at first. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and his jaw flexed with tension. You remained patient, maintaining a soothing tone and open body language. "Take all the time you need," you added softly. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. It’s just you and me." His eyes scanned you intently, searching for any hint of deception or ill intent. You met his gaze steadily, allowing him to see the sincerity in your eyes. After what felt like an eternity, his grip on your wrist slowly loosened until he finally released you completely.
Second time's the charm. You reached out with steady hands, your fingers finding the first buckle on his tactical suit. With careful precision, you unfastened it, the metallic click echoing softly in the bathroom. Then, you moved to the next one, and the next, methodically working your way through each fastening. The process was slow but deliberate, each buckle giving way under your patient touch until, finally, the last one came undone. You paused, surveying your handiwork as the suit lay open, no longer confining him.
With the buckles undone, your attention turned to the decked out belt encircling his hips. You grasped the front, feeling the sturdy material beneath your fingers. You pulled the belt free from the thick buckle, the black leather sliding smoothly through the loops. As you removed the belt, you took care to lay it gently on the floor beside you, the heavy belt colliding with the tile was bound to make him jump and you didn’t want that.
The belt now removed, you returned your focus to the suit itself. Your hands found the straps, and you began to loosen them, pulling them out slowly and methodically. His uniform reminded you of a rehashed straight jacket, the uniform nearly acting just as one. When the tight suit gradually relinquished its grip, you noticed an immediate change in the soldier’s demeanor. The restrictive pressure eased, and you could see his chest rise and fall more freely. It was as if a weight had been lifted, allowing him to breathe deeply for the first time in who knows how long.
You watched, a mix of concern and relief washing over you, as he took in several deep breaths. The realization hit you then, a jolt of disbelief and worry. The suit had been so constricting that it had barely allowed him to breathe properly. The thought was infuriating. What kind of protection was that? What twisted logic had led to the creation of gear that endangered its wearer almost as much as it shielded them? You found yourself shaking your head in disbelief. What the hell...
"There we go...good..." You praised calmly, your voice a soothing whisper in the quiet room. He stood before you, now shirtless, his muscular frame tense with anticipation as he awaited your next move. Your eyes couldn't help but linger on his exposed torso, taking in every detail of his battle-worn body.
His skin was a canvas marked by the harsh realities of his past. Bruises in various stages of healing painted his flesh in a morbid palette of purples, yellows, and greens. Fresh cuts, angry and red, intermingled with older, silvery scars, creating a chaotic tapestry across his skin. Each mark had a different cause, accidental, intentional, self inflicted.
Your gaze was inevitably drawn to the most prominent feature: the junction where flesh met metal at his shoulder. The scar tissue surrounding his prosthetic arm was a sight that made your heart ache. It wasn't a clean, surgical line as one might expect, but rather a jagged, angry border that spoke of crude methods and little regard for the body it was attached to. The metal seemed to dig cruelly into his flesh, as if it were trying to consume more of him. You couldn't help but wonder about the pain he must have endured during the procedure, imagining how they had torn him apart with brutal efficiency, prioritizing function over comfort or aesthetics.
Despite the visible evidence of his suffering, he stood tall and stoic, awaiting your next move with a mixture of trust and trepidation in his eyes.
You offered him a gentle, comforting smile, you were acutely aware of his attempts to appear strong, but the reality of his fear was unmistakable. In that spare room, his demeanor reminded you of a cornered animal, flinching and retreating whenever the door creaked open. He cowered from you, even when you tried to give him water to drink. The sight tugged at your heartstrings, you didn’t know much of what happened just yet, but you knew whatever it was must’ve been utterly horrific.
"I'm going to help you out of your trousers now," you explained in a soft, reassuring tone. "Then we'll get you into the shower. The warm water will help you feel better, I promise." You paused, giving him a moment to process your words before adding, "Is that okay with you?"
He remained motionless. His lack of response was telling - not a nod, not a word, not even a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. He simply stood there, statuesque, as if bracing himself for whatever was to come next. The stillness was almost eerie, so you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was going to come. You truly hoped he wouldn't begin to put up a fight randomly, you knew you couldn't take him if he did.
You grasped the zipper of his pants and slowly pulled it down, the metallic sound echoing in the quiet room. As the fabric loosened, you gently tugged at the waistband, shuffling them down his muscular thighs and allowing the pants to fall around his ankles. Without a word, he stepped out of them, his movements controlled as he jerked his foot to get the leg of the pants off completely.
His gaze remained fixed on you, his expression betraying no hint of discomfort or self-consciousness at his state of undress. You found yourself averting your eyes, a mix of respect for his privacy and your own sudden shyness causing you to look away.
Turning your attention to the shower, you reached out and adjusted the taps, your hand testing the water until it reached a comfortably warm temperature, you could always adjust it upon request. The sound of cascading water filled the bathroom, creating a soothing ambiance. Once satisfied with the water's warmth, you looked back towards him, your arm extending in a welcoming gesture towards the bathtub. "Come on," you encouraged, your voice soft and inviting, "it's nice and warm." A gentle smile played on your lips, your expression meant to convey comfort and reassurance.
But even with your efforts, he remained motionless, his feet seemingly rooted to the spot where he stood. His lack of movement prompted you to maintain your encouraging demeanor, your smile unwavering as you waited patiently for him to make a decision.
The steam from the shower began to fill the room, creating a misty atmosphere that hung between you, yet he showed no signs of stepping forward or retreating. He just stood there, planted like a tree. You frowned, seeing that he wasn't going to budge.
"Hey, it's okay," you said softly, "It's just water, and it's nice and warm. I promise it will feel so good. You've been shivering for a while now, and I bet the warmth will be really comforting for your cold skin. There's nothing to be afraid of." You continued to encourage him, your tone patient and understanding.
The soldier's reaction was tense and wary. His metal arm plates made a series of soft clicking sounds as he shifted his arm and adjusted his stance, his body language radiating discomfort and distrust, maybe even a hint of growing agitation. The way he eyed the water, you could have sworn he thought you were about to subject him to some form of aquatic torture. His entire demeanor screamed of deep-seated fear and suspicion.
"It's alright, really... Look, see?" You demonstrated by reaching out and touching the water, letting your fingers trail through the warm liquid. You made sure he could clearly see that the water didn't cause you any harm or discomfort. Could he be afraid of the water? The concept seemed strange, but then again, you didn't really know or understand the full extent of his experiences or traumas. You had made so much progress with him already, and now all that remained was for him to sit under the water and allow you to wash him. It seemed so simple, and yet you could see the monumental struggle playing out behind his eyes.
He finally seemed to respond when he observed that you remained unharmed by the water, and he cautiously approached, his movements slow and deliberate. His eyes wore wariness with a flicker of curiosity, carefully scanning your form and ensuring you made no abrupt or threatening gestures. As he inched closer, his body language betrayed a conflicting desire for comfort and an instinctive need for self-preservation.
Once he had convinced himself of a relative level of safety, he gingerly stepped into the bath. The warmth of the water seemed to catch him off guard, and with an almost childlike lack of grace, he unceremoniously lowered himself into a sitting position with a loud thud and for a moment, he appeared startled by his own actions.
Now fully seated on the bottom of the tub, he allowed the soothing warmth of the water to cascade down his dirt-encrusted body. The grime that had accumulated over time began to loosen and swirl around him, running down his body and creating murky patterns at the bottom of the textured bathtub.
He sat motionless, gradually acclimating to the comforting warmth of the water cascading down his back in a gentle, soothing shower. It was foreign to him, a luxury he had been denied for far too long. His time with HYDRA had been bereft of such simple comforts; the organization was a cruel and unforgiving entity, more akin to a heartless taskmaster than a nurturing presence.
His experiences with something as harmless as water was vastly different to what you were treating him with now - he was subjected to harsh, icy streams forcefully directed at him, the intense pressure through the hose so severe it felt as though it was stripping away layers of his skin.
He remembers being forcibly submerged by his handlers, a cruel and twisted game that shattered his expectations of a simple, cleansing bath. What should have been a moment of respite transformed into a nightmarish struggle for survival, where he was forced to submit to their ruthless whims.
The memory of sharp, abrasive bristles tearing at his skin and the application of painful, saline substances lingers. He didn’t want to think about the unnecessary groping he encountered either, something he wished he forgot along with his life during the chair’s wipes.
These traumatic encounters left an indelible mark on his psyche, turning what should have been a basic human necessity into a source of fear and anxiety. The handlers' sadistic approach to something as fundamental as personal hygiene served as a constant reinforcement of their control over every aspect of his existence, even the most intimate and essential.
For him, the act of bathing became synonymous with vulnerability, pain, and the complete loss of autonomy, a far cry from the soothing, rejuvenating experience it was meant to be.
This gentle treatment you were providing was so different from the abusive handling he had endured in HYDRA, it almost caused him to panic, the feigning comforts he were offered by handlers before tricked him too many times, and he refused to let his guard down.
His glacial eyes gazed up at you, the poor man looked absolutely pitiful under the steamy water, his once greasy hair now thoroughly soaked as rivulets ran down the contours of his entire body. You took a breath and exhaled out a soft sigh, your hand slowly reaching for your own body wash. You didn't have any products specifically designed for men, so your expensive shampoo would have to suffice until you went shopping.
You pumped the bottle twice, watching as the clear, slightly viscous shampoo pooled into your open palm and the refreshing scent of cucumber and mint permeated the humid air, filling your nostrils with its crisp, clean aroma. You turned and addressed him softly, "Alright, I'm going to wash your hair now. Just try to relax and sit still for me, okay? This might feel a bit cold at first, but I promise it'll feel good once I start massaging it in."
The soldier regarded you with an inscrutable expression, his eyes betraying only a hint of that fight-or-flight instinct, his mind was reeling as he battled the urge to respond to your presence. You knew he had the strength to easily break your arm if he chose to, so you tried your best to be as slow and careful as possible. Your fingers delicately threaded through his hair, methodically working the shampoo into a rich lather. You watched as the suds multiplied and foamed, the soapy shampoo pure white on top and slowly stained the closer it was to his scalp.
You noticed that every so often he would flinch ever so slightly or instinctively pull away from your hands. You wondered if he had hidden injuries or tender spots on his scalp, or bruises or cuts concealed beneath his hair, or maybe knots of tension that had formed from prolonged stress or blunt impacts. His hair must’ve been yanked around, his scalp was extremely tender and while you did your best to soothingly massage, he didn’t enjoy it as much as you hoped because of the discomfort there.
"It's okay, I understand it might be a bit uncomfortable. I’m just getting all that pesky dirt and grime out." You spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone, moving a little bit quicker so you could rinse and move on. After thoroughly rinsing his hair, you applied conditioner in the same manner as the shampoo, and then rinsed it out again. He looked much better now, his hair was now clean, wet, and sleek, with a smooth texture and a noticeable shine. It was so much better than before, and it had to feel better too.
Your hand extended under the rain of water, dampening a soft, handheld washcloth and applying a generous amount of body wash to it. You worked the cloth until it produced a rich lather. The soldier moved which caught your eye, you looked up at him and saw he had recoiled, his gaze fixed warily on the washcloth. He became noticeably slower and more hesitant, his eyes widening slightly as he regarded the cloth with apparent apprehension, as if it posed a threat. You furrowed your brow at his reaction to the cloth, he looked at it like you held a weapon of some kind.
"Hey, it’s alright…this won’t hurt. It’s just a cloth, see? A cloth with some soap," you said softly, you felt so torn up about his reaction to the simplest of things. "I won't hurt you, I promise, I'm just going to wash you a bit...get all that dirt and blood off you." You raised your hand holding the washcloth in a placating gesture. “It’s warm, it will feel good scrubbing off all that dirt, you’ll be nice and clean.”
Gradually, he relented and shifted backwards to where he had been sitting, permitting you to gently glide the damp cloth across his skin, meticulously removing every trace of grime from his body. After a few minutes of washing him, you noticed he was beginning to find comfort in the experience. His eyelids drooped, and his head dipped down slightly, a tired expression settling over his features as he succumbed to the soothing sensation of your ministrations. He wasn’t exactly serene, but he was too drowsy to focus on much else other than the feeling of the rag gliding over his back and flesh arm.
You adjusted him and you tended to his metal arm, diligently working the cloth between the intricate plates and joints of titanium, ensuring that no speck of dirt remained. You weren’t exactly sure how the arm was cleaned prior to finding him, but clearly there wasn’t a worry about rust or anything of the sort. The soldier remained motionless, allowing you unhindered access as the warm water cascaded over his back, leaving a rosy tinge in its wake. He enjoyed the hot temperature, he hadn’t felt hot water in decades.
Your focus then shifted to his lower extremities, concentrating on scrubbing his legs and feet. As the rag moved up to a more sensitive area, you paused, pulling the rag off his skin and slowly extending the washcloth to him. You pointed towards his privates, you softly instructed, "You can…get right there, I’d rather not touch you in that spot."
The furrow on the soldier's brow gave away his visible confusion, his eyes darting between you and the offered rag with a mixture of uncertainty and hesitation. It was clear that he was contemplating with the decision of whether to accept your gesture or not, if there was an ulterior motive, or if this was some sort of test. After what seemed like an eternity of internal debate, he finally extended a trembling hand towards you. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he were approaching a wild animal rather than a simple cloth.
He grasped the rag from your outstretched palm, his fingers curling around it slowly. Once in possession of the cloth, he set about the task of cleaning himself. His actions, though quick, lacked the assurance of someone accustomed to such basic self-care. Each motion seemed so carefully calculated, as if he were relearning a long-forgotten, essential skill. It had been so long since he was allowed to clean himself. His movements were unsteady, his hands quivering slightly as he went about his ablutions.
It had clearly been an extensive period since he had been granted even this small measure of independence. The concept of autonomy was a luxury he had been denied for far too long.
When he was done with his hurried cleansing, the soldier's gaze immediately sought yours out. His eyes, still holding the rag, were filled with expectation, awaiting your next command. His posture tense and ready to respond to whatever instruction you might provide. The rag remained clutched in his hand, as if he were unsure whether to return it or continue holding onto this small token of independence.
"Good, you're all done," you offered a warm smile to him. Despite the wounds still visible on his body, you felt a sense of accomplishment knowing that at least the layers of dirt and grime had been washed away, your work getting him clean would pay off and be better for the both of you. You reached over and turned off the water, the sudden silence broken only by the soft dripping from the showerhead. "Let's get you dried off," you said softly, gesturing for him to step out of the shower.
He complied wordlessly, his movements careful as he stepped onto the bathroom mat. You couldn't help but notice how vulnerable he looked, standing there dripping wet, his eyes never leaving your face, his body completely littered in discoloration. Reaching for a large, fluffy towel, you unfolded it and wrapped it around his shoulders, enveloping him in its warmth to fight off the rapidly cooling water droplets all over him.
As you began to slowly dry his body, you noticed a change come over him. His softened expression now returned to its usual blank mask and the brief relaxation he showed in the shower was long gone by now. His body returned to the stiffness he had before he got in. His eyes remained fixed on you, following your every movement with an intensity that was almost unnerving.
You worked in the quiet calm of the bathroom, carefully patting dry each part of his body, mindful of his injuries. The soldier remained motionless, allowing you to maneuver him as needed, but offering no assistance, like a doll. It was as if he had retreated back into himself, leaving only an empty shell for you to tend to. You wondered what he was thinking behind those watchful, guarded eyes, they were pretty up close. Glacial, stormy blue irises that had been glued to you since you started to tend to him.
After drying him off, you were lucky to find a pair of boxers in your apartment and helped him into them, where they came from wasn’t something you could remember at the moment, but you were glad you had them. He cooperated as you dressed him, then stood there clutching the towel around himself like a security blanket.
His gaze fixed on you with a mixture of expectation and vulnerability, as if silently asking for further guidance or comfort. His wide eyes blinked languidly, and his soft pink lips formed an almost imperceptible pout, giving him an endearing, slightly lost appearance.
Lost. He embodied the word entirely. Physically, mentally, emotionally.
Taking in his disheveled state, you smiled a little, "How about we get your hair detangled, hm?" Your voice was warm and reassuring as you reached up, your fingers lightly brushing against the damp strands, feeling the water practically seep out of the ends.
The soldier's reaction was a mix of acceptance and hesitation. While he didn't outright reject the idea, there was a noticeable lack of enthusiasm in his demeanor. However he didn’t dare reject the idea, worried about any kind of retaliation. So he made his way to the stool nestled beneath the counter and lowered himself onto it. As he settled into position, maintaining a stoic silence, his eyes continued to convey that enigmatic expression, hinting at unspoken thoughts or emotions.
You positioned yourself behind him, your hands instinctively reaching for a comb and a bottle of detangling spray already sat out from your use earlier that day. You recalled how your fingers had encountered numerous knots and tangles when you washed his hair, and thinking about how knotted it looked dirty made you sigh outwardly.
The fine mist of the detangling spray settled on his hair as you applied it methodically, you guided the comb through his locks, working patiently to untangle any knots you encountered. You tried to be as gentle as possible, knowing not only were there a ton of knots, but you remembered his scalp was especially sensitive and sore.
Soldat remained still as a statue, his posture composed and unwavering. His disciplined demeanor allowed you to work unimpeded, your movements careful and unhurried. He maintained a firm grip on the towel draped securely around his body, the fabric acting almost like a barrier and protecting him from the world. You continued to work the comb through his hair, encountering tangles and knots that spoke of recent exertion or neglect.
The process of detangling was slow, your touch continued to be gentle yet purposeful, muttering soft apologies when you ran into an unexpected knot. Teasing apart the snarls with patience and skill, the resistance lessened, and you found yourself able to run the comb smoothly through his hair, the strands falling into neat alignment.
"There we are... much better," you praised softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The sight of his hair, now brushed out and free of tangles, felt like a monumental achievement. You couldn't help but admire how the clean, detangled strands caught the light, a stark contrast to their earlier disheveled state. Your fingers ran through his locks, gently ruffling the hair from being so flat against his scalp.
You couldn't help but notice the angry red lines marring his skin, peeking out from beneath the towel. The blotchy colors on his skin that ranged from purple to blue, it made you frown. Your instincts as a caretaker kicked in, and you found yourself wondering if he would allow you to tend to those wounds. Hesitantly, you reached out, your fingers barely grazing the edge of the towel just wanting to get a better look at them.
In an instant the soldier suddenly sprang to life, standing with such force that the stool he had been perched on skidded across the tile floor, the harsh scraping sound shattering the previous calm. He retreated to the far corner of the bathroom, his body language screaming defensiveness.
His eyes, which had been closed or downcast for most of your interaction, now bore into you with an intensity that made you freeze. They held fear, yes, but also a raw, primal aggression that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the look of a cornered animal, ready to lash out at the slightest provocation.
You immediately backpedaled, not wanting to trigger any aggression from him. "Okay, okay... no wound checks," you reassured as you raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. You took a step back, giving him more space, silently cursing yourself for pushing too far, too fast. The fragile trust you had built over the past few minutes seemed to hang by a thread, you didn’t want to snap the little you had.
Your words had a calming effect on Soldat, who clutched the towel tightly in his fists, ensuring it remained securely wrapped around him. His gaze drifted down to his soiled attire, prompting you to shake your head in disapproval. "No, those definitely need to be washed," you explained, your voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur, "And to be honest, these can hardly be called proper clothes. I'll make sure to get you some suitable ones tomorrow, alright?"
Soldat's eyes met yours once more, his gaze still carrying a hint of coldness and wariness, but he managed a brief, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment. You gathered his discarded garments and deposited them into the washing machine, silently hoping that the combination of leather and other materials wouldn't prove too much for the aging appliance. The damn thing had to be ran twice already, you just couldn’t afford to buy a new one right now.
As you busied yourself with setting the appropriate wash cycle, Soldat seized the opportunity to hastily retreat to the room that had been designated as his temporary living space.
He immediately gravitated towards the floor, as he had been the past few days. You hadn't seen him use the bed at all, rather stay cuddled in the corner or inside the small space of the closet. The towel long forgotten and laid splayed out on the floor, he ripped the blankets off the bed in one fluid motion and proceeded to wrap himself up in them, burrowing beneath the layers of fabric for comfort and security. The blankets having replaced the towel's symbolism for safety.
You wished he’d rest on the bed rather than the floor, but you knew better than to try to alter what he was doing. Leave him to be comfortable on his own, that is the best thing to do in this situation. And if Soldat wants to sleep on the floor in a huddle of blankets, then fine.
You approached the doorway, peering inside to see him nestled in a cocoon of blankets. His exhaustion was written on his face, yet there was a noticeable improvement in his appearance. The layer of grime and perspiration that had clung to his skin was now gone, you knew he had to feel somewhat refreshed.
You cautiously stepped into the room and made your way towards him, acutely aware of how his body tensed at your approach. In response to your closer proximity, he burrowed deeper into the thick comforter that enveloped him, seeking refuge from your presence.
A soft, reassuring sound escaped your lips as you placed a water bottle within his reach. As you anticipated, he remained motionless under the comforter, offering no acknowledgment of your thoughtful action. He stayed hidden beneath the layers of fabric, like a child seeking shelter from imaginary monsters lurking in the shadows.
"Get some rest, Soldat..." you whispered gently, your voice barely above a murmur. "I'll be down in the other room if you need anything. Don't hesitate to call for me, even for the smallest thing." With that reassurance, you slowly stood back up and turned to walk out. A faint noise suddenly caught your attention, causing you to pause mid-step.
The gentle rustling of the comforter drew your gaze back towards the floor, curiosity piquing your interest. The soldier cautiously peeked out from under the blanket's edge. His tired, weary eyes met your inquisitive ones, there was a beat of silence.
"Спасибо," the soldier rasped out, his voice meek and slightly hoarse from disuse, but still loud enough for you to hear clearly.
"You're welcome..."
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Dividers by @/strangergraphics
Cover images from Pinterest. I do not claim them as my own.
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really-fanny-longbottom · 9 months ago
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never yours
summary: azriel never regretted his decisions so much like he does right now.
warnings: angst (like a lot), fluff (also a lot because we need a balance)
pairings: azriel x reader, azriel x elain, lucien x reader
words: 6k
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you were born in day court during the longest and the warmest day of the year — summer solstice.
even though it's not a custom to exchange gifts on that holiday, your parents always told you that you were their greatest gift and that the sun shined brighter that day like he knew that you would be entering this world very soon. 
your father was helion's best and longest friend, and he had a place in his court as his second in command and advisor. 
your mother was the lead healer of the court. she was one of the most powerful and talented healers of prythian, being a very close second to madja. 
due to your parents' jobs, you grew up in the day court palace and close to helion, who didn't just happen to be your high lord but also your godfather. 
your parents reconsider that maybe making helion your godfather had been a mistake because of how much he spoiled you.
on your 4th birthday, he gave you a black baby pegasus as a present, which you decided to name him blackjack.
when he discovered that you liked reading, he had a private library built in your room with all kinds of books.
when you were seven and heard an old male saying that females should only wear dresses, you only wore pants for the next three months and of course, helion made sure you had every type of pants at your disposal. 
when your parents tried to scold him, he just scoffed with his only response being, 'she's my goddaughter. what else am i supposed to do?' with a big grin plastered in his face.
you weren't helion's child, but he always treated you like one, and that never changed, especially after your parents' death. 
your favorite thing about your parents was their mating bond. after you learned that mates are rare and a blessing, it made every single thing about your parents' love even more unique and pure.
you saw first hand what true love is really like. you saw how much they loved, cared, supported, and protected each other.
you saw loyalty and honesty in their deepest forms. seeing your parents' mating bond made you wish to the stars for a mate, and that one day, you would be blessed enough to find him. 
but you also saw how deep a mating bond could go — you saw it first hand, too.
you saw it when your mother died after getting infected by a rare disease while trying to help her patients.
her death destroyed your father. the pain and the grief of losing your mother — his mate, and the love of his life were so big that your father followed her into the next life a few days later, so they could start their next journey together.
before he died, your father made helion promise him that he would take care of you, which he agreed without hesitation.
he became more protective of you. he couldn't stop thinking how unfair it was for you to lose your parents at such a young age, only eleven years old, when helion had them for centuries.
your godfather made sure to provide you with anything you needed from the best education to the best clothes, and when your healing powers start manifesting and you decide to follow your mother's steps, helion called in a favor to thesan to see if he could teach you himself.
the high lord of dawn was happy to accept, and so were you at the thought of having him as your teacher.
you moved to dawn court for a year where you learned everything about being a healer, not only with the high lord himself but also with his best healers. 
you became one of the best — talented, powerful, gifted, and wise. just like your mother.
madja was looking for an apprentice at the time you returned to day, and when she heard about your skills, she asked for you.
rhysand reached out to helion with madja's offer — you would be her apprentice, work in the clinic with her but you would also assist her if she ever needed to go to a patient's residence, and would learn everything she could teach you. 
it wasn't needed to convince you to agree. you had heard about madja and her healing, after thesan, she was the healer you wanted to work with the most, so of course you were more than happy to have a chance to have her as your mentor.
rhysand added that you would be welcome to stay in one of his personal residences, the house of wind, during your stay in velaris.
you were only supposed to stay in the night court for a year, but that was before you met the shadowsinger. 
however, despite wanting the apprenticeship more than anything, if you had known what would happen when you agreed to go to the night court, you would never have accepted the offer.
•••
azriel couldn't sleep.
no matter how much he tried, he couldn't. not with tomorrow so close, not when he knew what was waiting for him in the morning. 
the past was haunting him tonight, his thoughts hadn't stopped since he had been informed earlier of tomorrow's meeting.
so now, here he was, trying to keep his eyes open even though his body was protesting for him to do the opposite.
but he was fighting that need because every time he closed his eyes, you were all he saw.
your beautiful face with your sparkling eyes, your smooth hair, your pointy ears, your sweet voice, and your soft laughter.
you were haunting his thoughts like a punishment for all those years ago. 
so all he could do now was to sit on the edge of his balcony with his legs hanging off while waiting for the sun to be born, and remember how things used to be before he destroyed everything.
 •••
everything was perfect in the beginning.
velaris was beautiful, the people were kind, and the pastries were absolutely delicious. 
the only thing you actually missed, besides helion, was the warmth of the sun like no other court had but the day court — that was just the day citizen in you talking.
your apprenticeship was going amazing. you and madja had instantly connected, and you were learning so much.
two weeks later, you were already attending your own patients without supervision.
you really had a gift, and every time madja complimented your powers, you gave all the credits to your genes — to your mom.
it warmed your heart knowing that the mother had blessed you with this part of her. In this way, it felt like she was always with you.
the house of wind felt just like home, and you adjusted perfectly.
the inner circle had welcomed you with open arms, and you got along with everyone. they thought you and mor would be the closest of all, but they got a big surprise when it turned out to be you and azriel.
the shadowsinger was different from everyone you ever met.
everyone in day was so loud, extroverted and open.
but not him.
he was calm, reserved, and difficult to read, but with time, you ended up finding out that the two of you were more alike than you thought. you were able to go through the shell that azriel had so perfectly built around him over the centuries. 
a friendship was born.
every day, qzriel would fly you to the clinic and then back to the house. you explored velaris together and made your personal mission to try every single restaurant and bakery from the city of starlight. 
you walked along the sidra and even stopped once in a while to dance along the melodies that the musicians were playing. you would read together whether that was in the library, in your room, or in his. you even started training with him and sometimes, cassian.
you became each other's person. 
when a day at the clinic was hard or you would lose a patient, he was there to hug and comfort you, and you found yourself doing the same for him about his missions.
so you decided to take the next step and spoke about your parents' death, how much still affected you losing them.
and in that moment, azriel realized how much trust you put in him, so he decided to return it and opened about his past, his family, and his hands. you listened to every word, cleaned every tear, and held him for as long as he needed.
tou found yourself falling in love with him a little more day by day, and it only took you a few months to realize that you were completely in love.
the day the bond snapped was one of the happiest days of your life.
it happened during the most beautiful celebration in the night court — starfall.
your hair was tied in a long braid that reached down to your waist, decorating the braid were small yellow daylilies.
you were wearing a golden dress that fit perfectly against your sun-kissed skin. the dress had a slit on the left side that went up to the top of your thigh, a single strap held the dress on your right shoulder and when you turned around, whoever was behind you could have a perfect view of your naked back.
golden jewels rested on your ears and neck. 
you looked like a goddess — one blessed by the sun itself.
you were shining just like a day court citizen should.
azriel standed next to you in the balcony while gazing at the spirits passing.
both of your hands rested on the stone of the balcony, and when you went to adjust your hand, it brushed against azriel's.
at the new feeling, you looked up to find his eyes, only to see the shadowsinger already looking at you.
in that moment, with the touching of your hands and the meeting of your eyes, the world stopped.
your hands start interviewing, and everything else just disappeared.
it was just the two of you and the sound of your heartbeats. and then, a golden thread appeared and started tying your hearts and souls.
azriel held your free hand and pressed it against his own chest, right where his heart laid.
you followed his action, freeing your intertwined hands and putting his hand on your chest, above your heart. 
with the final loop of the golden thread around your hearts, azriel bent down and kissed you. 
that moment couldn't be more beautiful and magical even if you tried.
you had finally found the mate that you had wished to the stars all those years ago. 
everything was perfect.
you had everything you wanted and more.
you lived in a beautiful city that you learned to love and were starting to call it home. 
you had the job of your life, working alongside one of your idols. 
amazing friends that made you feel welcomed and part of a little family.
and finally, your mate, the male you were in love with, long before that beautiful and sacred golden thread.
everything was perfect.
but of course, nothing lasts forever.
and all of that disappeared when elain archeron came into the picture.
•••
ten years.
he couldn't believe that much time had passed. all those years without you.
it had been ten years since the last time he saw you.
ten years since he had heard something regarding you.
ten years since he had broken your heart.
and ten years since he had made the biggest mistake of his entire existence.
you had moved back to day court after that day, after what happened and after what he did. 
the high lord of day had forbidden azriel from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way.
and months later, when the rumors of a certain shadowsinger flying above the palace in hopes to get a glimpse of you reached his ears, helion banned him from his court.
helion had always been a very charismatic and loving person.
he's kind, generous, and a very good friend. He gets along with almost everyone, always joking around and laughing. 
some people may say that he's the nicest and kindest high lord that prythian has ever seen. 
when problems arise, he always tries to find a solution to solve them or if a solution is not possible, a way to improve them.
but not this time.
not when it comes to you and his son — Lucien.
because your heart wasn't the only one to be shattered that day.
no.
lucien's heart was a victim, too.
so, from that moment, everything that helion did was to protect you and lucien.
to make sure that you felt safe, that you had space and time to heal.
azriel's banishment wasn't the only consequence from the events of that day.
that day also cost the alliance between the day court and the night court, and when the alliance fell apart, so did helion and rhysand's friendship.
but azriel wasn't the only one to blame for all of this.
elain archeron was guilty, too.
she, too, was banished from the day court and forbidden to contact lucien in any way.
but unlike azriel, elain's actions cause far more consequences than his. 
the autumn court followed the same decisions as the day court.
the banishment of azriel and elain and the prohibition of any kind of contact with lucien.
eris, now the new high lord of the autumn court after beron's death, didn't take lightly to what happened to his little brother. 
the two of them had reconnected after eris became high lord.
they talked through everything that had happened in the last centuries, made peace with their past, and decided to move forward together.
now, the brothers were inseparable and had the kind of relationship they had always wanted since they were younger.
so when eris heard what had happened, he considered those actions as a personal attack. 
he went as far as to offer lucien the opportunity to choose the blood duel, which his little brother refused, saying that all of this had already caused enough pain.
eris wasn't angry just because of lucien.
he was angry because of you, too.
you were the first person to give him the benefit of the doubt, the first one to not judge him and unlike the others you tried to get to know him, to be his friend and he let you. 
6ou were the first one to know the real eris, to know what he hid behind the mask.
therefore, you had a special place in his heart. even if you didn't share the same blood, you were part of his family.
but that didn't stop with day and autumn. spring joined them, too. 
despite everything that happened and the fact that they were still working on their friendship, tamlin's loyalty remained with lucien.
spring had been lucien's home for decades, and with that came a brotherhood between the two of them. 
needless to mention that jurian and vassa's loyalties also remained with lucien.
to everyone outside the situation, all of this may seem overreacted and exaggerated.
but to everyone involved, it's not.
after all, you and lucien almost died.
that's what happens when a mating bond is rejected.
•••
azriel couldn't believe things had turned out this way.
he was so sure that the cauldron was wrong, that he belonged with Elain.
three sisters for three brothers.
how more poetic could it be?
there were signals everywhere.
feyre with rhysand.
nesta with cassian.
elain with him.
elain wouldn't go close to lucien or talk to him, but she would sit next to him whether during dinners or on the couch, she would talk to him, and requested his company when she went to the garden or to the city.
even his shadows disappeared every time he was with her.
weren't those signals clear enough?
they were meant to be.
the cauldron was wrong. 
so azriel did what he thought was right.
he rejected the mating bond with you, and elain did the same with lucien. 
he never thought that the rejection of the bond would've almost cost your life.
that memory still gave him nightmares to this day.
how pale you turned, how you sank to your knees with your hand pressed against your chest, tears running free down your cheeks and muffled screams leaving your lips.
how much pain you had suffered and how he had been the cause of it.
how once, not that long ago, he had been the reason for your smiles, laughs, and giggles.
but that memory wasn't his.
it was rhysand's.
rhys, who had to go through your mind shields, and knock you unconscious so the pain would stop and that memory led him to another memory. 
the memory of that day and the things that had followed after he shattered your heart.
•••
azriel wasn't there the moment it happened.
no, he was too busy kissing elain after admitting how much they craved each other. 
and while he kissed elain, he felt that golden thread tying the two of you breaking and start slowly to disappear.
nothing could have prepared him for that last memory of you when he and elain were summoned to the river house a few hours later.
rhys had shown him not as a courtesy but as a lesson of how much his actions can affect others.
but you weren't just some other.
you were his mate — former mate.
azriel made a move to go find you.
he needed to explain it to you, and he needed you to understand, but you were already gone.
rhys told him that after you regained consciousness, lucien took you with him back to day court. 
lucien.
who you had become instantly friends with since the male's arrival in velaris.
you had treated him just like you were when you moved to the night court.
you showed him the city, the good restaurants and the best pastries, and also told him about Helion, now that he knew the high lord was his father and he was his heir.
you wanted him to feel like home, just like you did. 
when Azriel made his intentions clear to go to day and find you, rhys showed him the letter helion had sent.
the one that forbidden him from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way.
the one that also had the same indications to elain regarding lucien.
and that if any of them tried to disobey his orders, there would be consequences.
azriel knew of protective the male was of you and that he would do anything to protect his family, so for a split second, azriel found himself fearing the high lord. 
rhysand also ordered them to stay away from the two of you, stating that they had already created enough problems and the night court could not afford a war with day. 
after they left his office, rhys sat down on his chair, trying to think how he was gonna solve this.
his mind kept going back to you and lucien. 
he was there when lucien came for you.
the red headed male was also pale and every few minutes, his hand would press to his chest in pain, his eyes were still red, probably from the tears he had shed.
rhys knew that Helion's letter wouldn't be the only one he would receive that day.
and like he was right, three more letters arrived during it.
first from autumn, then spring and the last one from the band of exiles. 
rhys passed a hand through his black hair and released a long sigh.
azriel and elain actions had just cost four allies to the night court.
•••
when you and lucien arrived in day, helion almost fell to his knees at your sight.
you were in lucien's arms, your eyes half open with tears still following down your cheeks.
one of your hands was against your chest, rubbing small circles in a way of trying to get rid of the pain.
lucien wasn't much better.
helion headed towards you and started examining you for injuries, but he found nothing.
when confusion made his way to his features, Lucien told him everything.
the confusion was replaced by anger, but the anger wasn't just directed towards the shadowsinger and the middle archeron sister.
some of it was towards himself. 
towards himself, because seeing you like that, helion felt that he had broken the promise he made to your dad and that this was his fault.
without giving time for any more thoughts to fill his mind, helion led lucien to your room, where the heir laid you on the bed.
you had fallen asleep in his arms with your cheeks still stained. 
lucien sat on the chair by your desk that was placed in front of your bed and said to Helion that he would stay with you.
helion gave him a firm nod, remembering that lucien didn't have a room yet in his palace, but he was about to fix that.
helion didn't waste any time after making sure that the two of you were okay for now. 
he called two of his servants to prepare a room for the young heir and went straight to his office where he wrote the letter and sent it to rhysand.
the next week's were a complicated ones but showed that time was the best healer. 
you no longer spend the days locked in your room alone.
you started to eat properly again and went back to work.
day by day, you were smiling more, sometimes making jokes.
lucien improved as well.
he decided to live in the day court for the time being and took his place as helion's second in command.
his relationship with helion was also getting stronger over time.
they were making up for the lost time.
but that wasn't the only thing that changed. your relationship with lucien also changed.
you got closer than ever, due to the fact you were the only ones who knew what the other was going through.
you found comfort in each other's presence and started spending more time together to the point where you became each other's favorite person. 
little by little, you start helping each other heal.
you started putting back together the pieces that had been broken, and the pain started slowly fading until the day that it didn't hurt anymore.
you two mended your hearts and souls, and for the first time, in a long time, you were full again.
your friendship grew, and so did your feelings for each other.
•••
azriel couldn't believe how wrong he had been.
because the cauldron wasn't wrong, it had never been wrong. 
he was the one who was wrong — right from the beginning.
he and elain had tried a relationship after yours and lucien's departure.
it worked for six months until it didn't.
azriel questioned himself why the relationship was starting to fail and why being with elain was starting to feel wrong.
it didn't take him too long to understand the reason. It was because she wasn't you.
he found out that the reason his shadows disappear every time he was with elain wasn't because they were destined but because they were with you. 
his shadows would leave him and elain to go find you, like they were stating that they wouldn't betray you, that they chose you.
on the day he broke up with elain, he found his shadows in your old room, which once was filled with colors, books, paintings, and light, and now was empty, dusty, and dark.
the shadows were swimming around your starfall dress — the one you wore on the day your bond had snapped.
the sight of the dress was painful, and he understood why it had been left behind.
azriel had tried to apologize.
he flew to day court and around the palace trying to find you but he never did and the next day helion sent a letter with his and elain's banishment, making autumn and spring to make the same decision. 
he understood why.
they were trying to protect you and lucien, and even though he didn't have the right, he just wanted to know if you were okay.
he asked rhys several times if he knew something about you, and thys revealed to him that you weren't talking to him or the other members of the inner circle either.
you had stated that it was too early and still very painful. 
so they respected your decision and kept their distance. 
that had caused azriel's guilt to grow even more.
how he wished for nesta to still have her powers so he could go back in time and repair all of this.
the light of the sun broke his thoughts.
the sun was finally making its appearance in the orange and yellow sky. 
azriel released a long breath and looked at the clock perched on his bedroom wall. 
the morning was here, and he was only two hours away from seeing you.
•••
the inner circle stood at the entrance of the day court palace. 
helion had lifted the banishment for this meeting with yours and lucien consent.
both of you said that it had been a long time and that the past should stay in the past, but that didn't mean you would be accepting any apologies today.
koschei was on the rise again, and prythian needed to come together once more.
right now, your past didn't matter.
the doors swung open, and the inner circle made their way inside.
a servant led them to the conference room located in the same hallway as helion's office on the first floor of the palace.
they sat at the marble table while the servant informed them, "the high lord will be here in a few minutes."
receiving a nod and a 'thank you' from rhysand, the servant left.
rhys started, "y/n and lucien will also be in this meeting. now, helion was nice enough to allow the two of you back here, so do not ruin this."
he finished while looking at azriel and elain, making them both nod their heads.
helion entered the room, and the inner circle raised from their seats.
the high lord of the day court made his way to the head of the table.
he turned to the side where rhys and his inner circle stood, offering his hand to rhys to shake it.
taken by surprise, rhys needed a few seconds to process what was happening before accepting his hand.
once they had shaken hands, everyone returned to their seats, but not before helion sent a disapproving look in azriel's and elain's direction.
a few minutes into the meeting, the door to the conference room opened again.
and there you were. 
you were dressed in day attire. a beautiful white dress that hugged your body, with your hair loosen and golden jewelry adorned your neck and ears.
lucien was by your side also wearing day attire, one that matched helion's, with your hand in his.
the inner circle held their breaths at your sight.
it had been ten years, but all the memories came flashing back to them. 
you looked the same, but when you two approached the table, that's when they saw it and shock spread all over their faces.
azriel couldn't believe what he was seeing.
he didn't know what he was expecting to see at this meeting, but it wasn't this.
it wasn't the golden ring that you and lucien had matching on your left hands informing him that you were married that shocked him.
it was the small and round belly that your free hand was resting on and the sweet vanilla scent that was filling the air — the scent of yours and lucien's baby. 
"apologies for our delay," lucien started, then looking in your direction with a smile continued "someone had a big appetite this morning," he ended with a laugh.
you looked at his gaze, a genuine smile on your lips "shut up," you whispered.
lucien grabs the back of your chair, pulling it to give you enough space to sit. "thank you, my love."
you said while watching him take the seat at your right, making you stay seated between him and Helion.
for the first time since you entered the room, you looked at the people in front of you. "night court," you greeted with a small smile. 
feyre was the first to say, "congratulations, y/n and lucien." 
lucien spoke this time. "thank you, feyre." he rested his hand on your belly.
"how far long are you?" rhysand's voice reached your ears.
looking in his direction, you answered, "23 weeks. lucien thinks it's a girl, but i think it's a boy," you added, making rhys smile.
"i always took you for a boy mom." amren's voice surprised you and couldn't help but smile at her words.
"congratulations to you two. the mother knows you deserve it." she finished with a genuine smile.
lucien looked at azriel and elain before directing his eyes to the ancient one "yes, we do. thank you, amren."
lucien paused for a second before turning in helion's direction and continuing. “let's not keep holding on to the meeting. please go on, father." 
helion proceeded with the meeting, but azriel didn't listen to a word that was said.
he couldn't tear his eyes from you and lucien. 
there was no doubt of the love you two shared, not when it was written in both of your eyes.
he didn't miss Lucien caresing your belly and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, passing his thumb over your jaw, and kissing your cheek after.
or how you rested your right hand on top of his on your belly while your left passed through his long red hair before resting around his shoulders and your smile while doing it.
what bigger proof did he need of your love if not for the baby you were carrying?
lucien's baby, he kept telling himself.
not his.
lucien's.
jealousy invaded his body, but there was nothing he could do.
he made his decision ten years ago, and now he had to live with it.
lost in his thoughts, he only realized the meeting was over when everyone started standing.
rhys and helion were finishing talking, and when the doors opened one more time, eris vanserra walked in with a little ginger boy in his arms.
he couldn't be more than five years old.
he looked exactly like lucien, except for his eyes — those were yours. 
azriel's heart sank, and it sank even more a few seconds later, when the little boy spotted you and lucien.
you already had a baby and you were about to have your second.
with a big smile appearing on his sweet face, the little boy almost shouted, "mommy! daddy!"
the boy jumped from his uncle's arms and ran to you.
you bend down and gather the happy boy in your arms before standing again and passing a hand through his ginger curls and saying, "hi, baby."
you peppered his face with kisses, making him laugh even more. "i thought you were having fun with your uncle," you said, looking at your brother in law.
your son pouted “uncle eris doesn't know how to play. he only wants to do the boring stuff, mommy.”
everyone in the room chuckled. eris gasped with fake hurt “excuse me?”
“elijah.” lucien chuckled and said to your son after joining your side “don't be rude to your uncle.” 
“but it’s the truth, daddy.” elijah hid his face on your neck. 
eris approached the little family with a smile directed to his nephew. "sorry. i tried to keep him entertained, but he just kept asking about you two." 
lucien noticed his older brother had paint and glitter on his white shirt and laughed at the thought of his son giving him a hard time before exclaiming, "it's alright, brother. we were about to leave anyway." 
the little boy settled in your arms and rested his head against yours, lucien started rubbing his back.
when the little boy caught the sight of his grandfather, he asked before anyone could stop him "grandpa, how was the meeting with the idiots from the night court?" 
the room went quiet, and a few gasps escaped.
at your son's words, you turned to look at Helion, now on mom's mood. "helion! how many times do we have to tell you not to speak like that in front of him?" 
the room erupted in laughter at your statement. 
the air became lighter, and helion put his hands in surrender, promising you that it wouldn't happen again. 
you gave him an incredulous look, saying that you didn't believe him.
your son wrapped his tiny arms around your neck and rested his head on your shoulder with a yawn leaving his lips. 
you rubbed your son's back while speaking to him. "C'mon, elijah. let's leave before your grandfather comes up with a new bad word for you to learn." 
“bad grandpa” your son agreed with you while earning new chuckles from the night court. 
even though he was trying to hold his smile, azriel failed. your son was too adorable.
you turned your gaze to the inner circle and gave them a smile. "it was good to see you all." 
"you too, y/n. i missed you." cassian replied.
your smile stretched before telling him, "i missed you too, cass." 
the nickname made his heart ache — maybe there's still a chance for you to reconnect.
you turned to look behind you, meeting your husband's eyes "you're coming, lu?" 
a pink blush made its way to lucien's cheeks "of course, my love."
the heir looked at his father, "we'll see you at dinner, father. night court." he said, giving the inner circle a small nod before joining you and wrapping his arm around your waist and giving a kiss to your now sleeping son.
amren spoke again “see i told you were a boy mom.”
“you're right. if this baby happens to be a boy as well, i'm gonna be in trouble.” you replied with an arm holding your son and while the other made its way to your belly.
“no, you're not. you're gonna be great.” nesta spoke, a genuine smile on her lips “we already can see you are.” she gestured to the little boy sleeping in your arms. 
“thank you, nes.” you were grateful for her words.
on your way out, you met azriel's eyes, but you couldn't find the words, so you simply gave him a nod with a small smile, and azriel returned the gesture.
when the door closed, amren was the first to break the silence "well, the mother has a sense of humor." 
everyone turned to look at her, but she focused her gaze on azriel and elain.
"you rejected them because you believed you belonged with one another only for your relationship to fail six months later. and now," she released a laugh, "your former mates found their way towards each other. fell in love, got married, have a son, and have another baby on the way. ironic isn't it?" she said with the feline smile returning to her lips. 
it was helion who spoke next, amusement all over his face, "indeed. i guess karma is a bitch."
he sent a disapproving look one more time in the direction of the two people who almost cost him his family before exiting the room.
amren's and Helion's words stung, but azriel knew it was nothing but the truth. He realized in that moment that despite your life now and how things turned out, you would never forgive him.
he had lost you forever, and now he had to live with regret for the rest of his life.
after all, you were no longer his. 
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a/n: thank you for reading! i'm thinking in making a general taglist so if you wish to be added let me know.
masterlist
the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune
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wolviensabes · 6 months ago
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Wolverine and Sabretooth in rut. You are completely screwed (literally).
Primal mutants = rut cycle. Obviously. Written in a headcannon style. NOT poly, the title looks a little misleading lmao. Not edited so pls ignore mistakes.
Minors DNI. 18+
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Logan aka Wolverine
Logan gets crazy when he's in rut. He tries his best to keep his distance at first because he knows if he gets near you and smells you, he will lose all of his composure and throw you onto the bed.
He growls and huffs a lot, he's vocal about his needs and he warns you many times before he gives in. "This isn't like before...if I fuck you, I'm fucking you hard. Once I start I won't be able to stop." Logan's voice wavers with desperation as he tries to keep himself controlled.
The thought of him losing all his composure and pinning you down, making you take it, turned you on more than you thought, and he could smell it.
Logan gets a little cocky when he smells your arousal, and he drags you into the bedroom for some much needed relief...for the both of you.
He tries to be as considerate as possible, but in rut he's much more driven by instinct and focused on himself. He can't stop himself from driving into you and reaching his climax as soon as possible.
Something about him using you to relieve his primal need turned you on so badly, you laid as he wanted you, rutting into you from behind as he let out loud, guttural groans and growls into the back of your neck. He stretched you so good, and his thrusts always hit the right spots.
The marks he leaves on you are insane. He leaves bruises where he holds you, how he tosses you around the bedroom, his teeth and mouth leave various bites and dark love-marks. He doesn't mean to hurt you when he throws you around, in the moment he's blinded by his desire and he can't stop himself.
In the brief moments where he calms enough to recover some sense, usually only after cumming many times inside you, he will look you over to make sure you're not hurt. He wouldn't want to hurt you, but his instincts make it hard for him to control his strength sometimes.
He doesn't like you anywhere besides his place, and honestly...wear loose fitted clothes. Or nothing you really like. Because it's going to be shredded off your body. One time you wore one of his shirts and he ripped it off you without a second thought.
Logan's rut can last anywhere from two weeks to a month. He only experiences one per year, either in the fall or the spring.
He tries to disappear for most of it, fearing he will literally fuck you until your body can't take it anymore. But with your insistence, he relents and gives in.
He's so appreciative of you, you learn to help him not just with sex, but by making things as comfortable as possible. Ruts hurt. He is almost in desperate need of relieving himself, and you do what you can, even though he understands he can't constantly fuck you. There's always other ways you can help him.
When his rut comes to an end, he's more affectionate rather than needing to fuck every day. He tries to do things he knows you like as a thank you without being too mushy about it. He lets his actions speak for themselves.
"You doin' alright, sweet thing...? Nngh m'almost done...just a little more." He will grunt to you, either getting ready to plow you again or during, he does his best to reassure you with words even when it's hard for him to communicate fully.
Even if it's hard at first, you get used to it and it's a good thing to experience with him. It brings you both closer, having been there for him during it.
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Victor aka Sabretooth
Dudeee please. Victor is quite literally an animal when he's in rut, he becomes 90% non-verbal, and all he wants to do is fuck.
The second you come home he slams the door behind you and grabs you, smelling your neck with deep inhales. His chest vibrates deeply, guttural growls escaping with each breath he took. His hands are firm around you, one hand moves to grab your jaw and tilt your head back.
You try to speak to him, but the only responses you get are growls and low snarling. You finally turn to face him, with great difficulty since he nearly imbedded his claws into your flesh. He huffs deeply, looking more wild than usual. "Victor...what's gotten into you...?"
He'd watch you constantly, rubbing himself all over you. Cooking? He's behind you, chest to back, rubbing himself against your body. Sitting on the couch, he's almost on top of you. He constantly is brushing against you, or holding you close enough to be touching him.
He grooms you regardless if you want him to or not. He will tear your shirt off and lick your skin, most of the time he aims for your tender spots. He licks your neck and ears, over your chest, your face, everything. If you try to stop him he snaps and growls at you, so you just sit there and let him do his thing.
He also surprisingly likes when you reciprocate. You don't have to lick him back, but messing with his hair or showering together is a good compromise. If you can manage to get him in the shower...he likes his musk and likes having his musk all over you.
Victor stalks you. He stalks you around his cabin and watches you clean or do whatever else. When you least expect it, he pounces on you and drags you into the bedroom. "M'sorry sweets, but you're gonna be sore as hell when m'done."
Victor is a lot more rough and unrelenting than Logan. He claws you and bites, he does make an effort not to cause any severe harm, but there's a first aid kit by the bed for a reason. There is a weak urge to hold back, but honestly he can't help himself.
He fucks you from behind 90% of the time when he's rutting, he gets the best hold on you from behind and he can really push his cock far inside you, plus you feel much tighter that way.
From behind he can also bite down on the nape of your neck, and he holds on as he completely ruins you. His teeth sink into your flesh while his hips snap into your ass over and over until cum is overflowing out of you.
Victor's rut can last anywhere between two weeks and two months. He also goes into rut twice a year, once in the fall and once in the spring.
Unlike Logan, Victor doesn't bother hiding his rut from you. He tells you what it is before he enters it, and he does give you the chance to disappear for the time if you think you can't handle it.
If you decide to stay while he goes through it then...you'll definitely be feeling it for two months. Nearly feels like he fucks you open, and not only that, but he is almost always buried lapping you. He licks, sucks, and cleans your sex, loving all your sounds of desperation. It just urges him on even further.
When his rut is over, he is visibly much more protective over you. You endured his brutality and slight aggression, now he wants you to stay at his home so he can keep you somewhere he can control.
Victor isn't one for words, he prefers to show things rather than say them. But deep down he's glad that you help him, he adores your willingness and it makes him feel more possessive over you. Big cat man purrs as he licks you clean after~
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Ty for reading 🧡
Dividers by @/strangergraphics
Cover image from Wolverine Vol 8: Sabretooth War Pt 1 (2020)
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lupinqs · 3 months ago
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paige x reader request!! okay so reader has never dated before (she’s always focused on school and boys around her never seem to “meet up” to her standards….right lol) when she gets to college she meets p and they become really close. they end up falling for each other but reader is conflicted bc she has thought she’s been straight but looking back all the signs were there. she’s never wanted to have sex before (men are scary) but she wants to with p, she trusts her. this could be p talking reader through this realization and/or smut (p being really sweet w her bc it’s her first time yk)!! thank you!!
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FIRST TIME ━━ paige bueckers x reader
☆ ━ summary: your first time is with paige
☆ ━ word count: 5.3K
☆ ━ warnings: smut with plot (honestly just p eating r out)
☆ ━ links: my masterlist
☆ ━ author’s note: my gift to everyone after that hellish lottery… fuck dallas bro 😐😐 also this is not my best work this month has been fucking terrible so my bad
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FOR YOU, it’s always been school. School, school, school. By seventh grade, you already knew you wanted to go into medicine. Your parents both work in the field—your mom at the hospital, your dad in his private practice. You grew up hearing their stories over dinner, listening to the ups and downs of their days, feeling that pull towards something important, something that could make a difference. The way they talked about their work, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself there, following in their footsteps.
So, you worked. Hard. From the moment you set your sights on medicine, there was no looking back. High school flew by in a steady cycle of textbooks, flashcards, volunteer shifts, and internships, each one a piece of the puzzle you were putting together. You spent weekends shadowing doctors, hours in study groups, a summer interning at the local hospital where you first learned what a real emergency room felt like. Even then, nothing could shake you from the goal you’d carved out for yourself. You’d known from the start where you wanted to end up: Yale. As a Connecticut native, it felt like a given. You saw yourself there so clearly that the idea of not getting in didn’t even occur to you.
Until it did. And when the rejection letter came, it was like the ground had fallen out beneath you. There was shock, disappointment, embarrassment. You’d done everything right—how had that not been enough? But still, UConn is a good college, and the goal is med school anyway. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter where you get your undergraduate degree, that you’ll just work even harder this time. When it comes to med school applications, there won’t be any mistakes, no missed chances. You won’t let it happen again—you will be going to Yale.
The thing is, school’s been your everything for so long that you don’t have much of a life outside of it. You had a first kiss once, an awkward moment with a boy who you never talked to again. But after that, there hasn’t been anything more. You’ve always been busy, and to be honest, there’s never been anyone who made you want to carve out time. Every relationship around you seemed like a distraction, a place for people to get hurt or get sidetracked, neither of which were part of your plan. Your friends like to tease you about it, saying your standards are too high, that no one will ever live up to the expectations you’ve set. And maybe that was true. Maybe that’s what it is. The boys just don’t meet your standards. You accept that, not caring to pay any mind to them (though they certainly paid mind to you), continuing to stay focused.
But at UConn, things start to feel different. College is strange that way—there’s structure, but there’s also space, a little more breathing room. It’s not like high school, where everyone knew what you were doing all the time, where your schedule was mapped out. Here, people let loose, go out, drink, stay up until all hours for no reason at all. You do it, too, and you realize it’s fun. But you never let it go further, never bother to get any sort of romance or even hook-ups involved in your life—because you’re still who you are. Your studies come first, always. You continuously remind yourself of that. Med school is the goal, and you work towards it every day.
Besides, you’re not even really interested in dating or anything of the sort.
That is, until you meet a certain blonde-haired basketball player.
It happens during the second semester of your freshman year, in a class you’re only taking for the credit. You barely even remember signing up for it—some easy elective with minimal workload to round out your schedule. You don’t care about the subject, don’t even plan on giving it much effort beyond the occasional assignment because you know it’ll be easy anyways. But then she walks in.
Paige Bueckers. You’ve heard the name before, of course. Everyone has. She’s the sophomore basketball phenom, the face of UConn athletics, practically a celebrity on campus. You’ve never paid her much attention—basketball isn’t really your thing—but the buzz around her is impossible to ignore. Still, when she strolls into the classroom, disheveled and running a little late, it takes you a moment to connect the dots. Her hair’s thrown into a low bun, messy strands framing her face. She’s in a gray UConn sweatsuit, the hem of her hoodie slightly frayed, her glasses sitting casually on the bridge of her nose. She scans the room, sees that the only open seat is next to you, and slides into it without hesitation.
“Hey,” she says, flashing you a quick smile before dropping her bag on the floor.
And that’s it. Nothing monumental. Just a simple greeting. But there’s something about her—her presence, the casual ease with which she takes up space—that immediately hooks your attention.
At first, you try to keep your head down. She’s just another classmate, someone you’ll probably never see again once the semester’s over. But Paige doesn’t make it easy to ignore her. She leans over to you during class, whispering comments about the lecture or the professor’s awkward hand gestures. She’s funny—unexpectedly so—and you catch yourself smiling at her jokes even when you try not to.
You notice other things, too. Like the sharp line of her jaw, the way her broad shoulders stretch the fabric of her sweatshirt, the subtle curve of muscle beneath her long sleeves. She’s not the type of traditional feminine pretty that you’d expect, not delicate or polished. No makeup, no carefully curated outfits. But there’s something about her—an almost sculptural beauty, like she’s been chiseled from marble by a particularly ambitious artist. It’s distracting. And you don’t get distracted easily.
When your friends convince you to go to your first basketball game of the season, you tell yourself it’s just for the experience. A chance to break out of your usual routine. But then you see her on the court. And suddenly, everything makes sense. Paige doesn’t just play basketball; she owns it. She’s gorgeous out there, all fire and intensity, her movements fluid and commanding. You find yourself watching her more than the game, mesmerized by the way she moves, just her presence in general.
After that, you start looking forward to class in a way you never have before. It’s not the subject, obviously. It’s Paige. The way she smiles at you when she walks in, the way she leans over to whisper something ridiculous during a particularly boring lecture. She’s the best part of your day, and you don’t even try to deny it.
When the two of you get paired up for a group project, it feels like fate. You go to her apartment to work on it, expecting the same easy banter from class, but it’s more than that. The two of you get off track almost immediately, laughing over something stupid, and before you know it, hours have passed and you’ve barely made any progress. You end up staying way later than planned, both of you scrambling to get back on task before you have to call it a night. By the time you leave, you’ve swapped numbers, and from then on, the texts come easily.
It starts with class updates, but soon it’s more. Late night conversations that have nothing to do with school, Facetimes, too. Hanging out becomes natural: grabbing frozen yogurt, wandering around campus, studying together even when you don’t need to. You talk and talk and talk, and somehow, it’s never boring. Paige has this way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight you usually carry around doesn’t exist when you’re with her.
One night, after one of your froyo runs, you’re sitting in her car. The frozen yogurt is long gone, but neither of you seems ready to say goodbye. The conversation slows, dipping into a comfortable silence. You glance at her, and she’s already looking at you. There’s a shift in the air, something unspoken passing between you. And then, suddenly, she’s kissing you.
You freeze. Not because you don’t want it, but because it’s so unexpected. Your brain can’t catch up with what’s happening, and for a moment, you’re completely still. Paige pulls back almost immediately, her face flushing as she stumbles through an apology. “I’m sorry—I thought—God, I must’ve read that wrong. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” you interrupt, shaking your head as you finally find your voice. “I didn’t mind.”
Her eyes search yours, uncertain, and then the silence settles again. Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean back in. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. Her hand cups your jaw, warm and steady, while your fingers find their way to her arm, brushing over the solid muscle of her bicep. The center console is a nuisance, forcing you both into awkward angles, but you don’t care. It’s all soft lips and quiet breaths, a perfect mix of hunger and gentleness.
When she finally pulls away, she drives you back to your dorm, her voice soft as she says, “I had a good time tonight.”
You manage a quiet “Me too,” before slipping out of the car.
Back in your dorm, your roommate is asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart still racing. You just kissed Paige Bueckers. A girl. And you liked it. More than liked it—you want to do it again.
The realization hits you like a freight train. You’ve never thought about girls like that before, never let your mind wander there. You always assumed you were straight, just too busy or too picky to find the right guy. But now, as you think about Paige, about her hands on your face, her lips against yours, it all starts to make sense. You never wanted boys. Not really. That kiss in high school with that random guy had felt wrong, awkward. The idea of being with a man had never appealed to you—except for maybe Drew Starkey, but even that felt more like a joke than anything real.
But this? The thought of Paige, of her smile, her laugh, the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the room—that feels real. And it’s terrifying.
Because now you know two things for sure:
You’re gay.
And you really, really like Paige Bueckers.
And it turns out that she really likes you, too.
Because that first kiss turns into another kiss. And another. And now, every time you’re alone together, it happens like clockwork.
The two of you have started hanging out in your rooms more often, the need for privacy overtaking any desire to sit in common areas or go out. Paige’s teammates joke that the two of you have become “homebodies,” but they don’t know the half of it. They don’t know how, as soon as the door closes, her lips find yours, soft and insistent, her hands framing your face as if you’re the most delicate thing she’s ever touched.
You’re not dating—at least, not officially. You haven’t talked about it, haven’t dared to address what’s happening between you. It’s easier this way, or so you tell yourself. But a part of you wonders why Paige doesn’t bring it up. Why she hasn’t said anything about what this is or what it could be. And that bothers you, even if you try to push it to the back of your mind. Then again, you’ve never done relationships, so maybe this in between is for the better—at least, for now.
Tonight, her teammates have gone to Ted’s. Paige had asked if you wanted to go, but when you wrinkled your nose and said, “Not really,” she grinned and said, “Me neither.” So, here you are, alone in her dorm room, a movie playing on the small TV mounted to the wall. Neither of you are watching it.
You’re lying on her bed, her weight hovering above you, and there’s no space, no breath between the two of you. Her lips are on yours, insistent and hungry, her body pressing against yours as if she can’t get close enough. There’s an urgency in her kiss tonight, a need that you can feel deep in your chest. You kiss her back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, trying to anchor yourself to her.
Her hands are on your hips, her fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp against her mouth. You feel her smile against your lips at the sound and it makes you smile, too.
And, for the first time, you find yourself wanting more. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your nerves alight with a buzzing energy that you don’t fully understand but don’t want to lose. Paige seems to sense it too because her hands slide up your sides, her thumbs tracing slow, deliberate lines against your skin.
Her lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down to your neck. The kisses are messy and open-mouthed, her breath hot and ragged against your skin. When her hands slip under your shirt, tracing over your stomach, you shiver.
“Can I take it off?” she asks, her voice soft but tinged with want.
You hesitate for a moment before nodding, lifting your arms to help her pull the shirt over your head. It’s gone in an instant, and you’re left in just your bra. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver again, but it’s nothing compared to the way Paige looks at you.
Her eyes roam over you, but not in a way that makes you feel objectified. It’s more like she’s in awe, like she can’t believe you’re here with her, like she can’t believe she gets to see you like this. It’s overwhelming.
You look away, suddenly self-conscious. It’s nerve-wracking, you’ve never done this before, and you know that Paige has. But Paige also knows that you haven’t, which you suppose makes things easier. You feel her fingers catch your chin, gently turning your head back to face her. Her touch is so tender it nearly makes you cry.
“If you wanna stop, tell me,” she says, her blue eyes locked onto yours, her voice steady and sincere.
You shake your head, your heart pounding. “I don’t wanna stop,” you say quickly, and then, after a pause, you add, your face flushing slightly with embarrassment, “I’m just a little nervous.”
She smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her hands move to your ribs, tracing slow, soothing lines along your skin. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You don’t gotta be. I’m right here.”
Her words settle something inside you, easing the tension in your chest. You nod, and she kisses you again, her lips slow and deliberate against yours. The urgency from earlier is still there, but now it’s tempered by something softer, something deeper. You want her closer, impossibly closer.
Her hands slide up your sides once more, stopping just below your chest, and the anticipation alone makes your breath catch. When her palms finally cup your breasts through your bra, her touch is firm yet reverent, and the sensation makes you gasp against her mouth. Your breathing deepens, your chest rising and falling under her hands.
It’s instinctual, the way your hands move to her waist, your fingers slipping underneath the hem of her long-sleeve shirt. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and you can feel the subtle definition of her abs as your hands explore, your palms smoothing over her sides.
Paige groans softly into your mouth, her body pressing harder against yours as if she’s trying to fuse you together. Then she pulls away just enough to tug her long-sleeve shirt over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it carelessly across the room. The moment it’s gone, she’s back, her lips finding yours again, more insistent than ever.
She’s in just her sports bra now, and you can’t help but let your fingers trail along the edges of it, brushing against the smooth fabric and the warm skin beneath. Paige shivers under your touch, and the knowledge that you’re affecting her this much makes your heart race even faster.
Then you feel her hands move behind your back, her fingers toying with the clasp of your bra. She hesitates, her lips hovering over yours as if she’s waiting for your permission.
You pull back just slightly, your lips still brushing hers as you murmur, “Take it off.”
Her eyes flicker with something intense, something almost vulnerable, as she nods. She unclasps your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your shoulders before pulling it away completely. For a moment, she doesn’t move, her gaze dropping to your bare chest. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and husky.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” she mutters, her eyes locking with yours for a heartbeat before her lips are on yours again, desperate and consuming.
Her hands return to your breasts, cupping and kneading them in a way that makes your head fall back against the pillows. A quiet whimper escapes your throat, and Paige groans in response, the sound vibrating against your lips.
Her mouth begins to wander, leaving your lips to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, then lower to your neck. She lingers there, her teeth grazing your skin before she soothes the slight sting with her tongue. Each kiss feels deliberate, like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you react to her touch.
She moves lower, her lips brushing along your collarbone, her breath warm and uneven against your skin. Her hands continue their slow, deliberate exploration of your chest, her thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that makes your breath hitch.
Her lips trace the edges of your breasts, teasing and deliberate, and it’s almost too much. Your fingers tighten their hold on her sides, your nails digging slightly into her skin as you try to ground yourself.
Paige’s lips move with an unrelenting intensity, open-mouthed kisses peppered across your chest as though she’s determined to worship every inch of you. When her mouth closes over one of your nipples, the heat and pressure of her tongue send a jolt through your body, and you swallow hard, trying to keep yourself steady. The sensation is new, overwhelming in the best way, and you feel a steady, growing thrum between your legs that you can’t ignore.
She doesn’t rush, her lips and tongue moving with precision, her hands anchoring you to the bed as if she doesn’t want you to float away. Her mouth trails from one breast to the other, lavishing attention in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl into the sheets.
“Paige,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, your chest rising and falling heavily as her lips continue their descent.
She hums softly against your skin, a sound that vibrates through you as her mouth moves lower. She lingers over your stomach, her lips and tongue leaving a warm, wet trail across your skin. When she sucks on a spot just below your navel, you know she’s leaving a mark, but you don’t care. The sensation is intoxicating, her gentle pressure grounding you as your thoughts scatter into nothing but her touch, her presence.
Then, her hands move to the waistband of your sweatpants, pausing just above your hips. Her fingers don’t tug or pull, just hover there, her thumbs brushing lightly against your skin. You glance down at her, heart pounding in your chest, only to find her already looking up at you.
Her eyes are soft, full of a question she hasn’t yet asked, though there’s no mistaking the want clouding her gaze. When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet, careful, “Do you want me to?”
You swallow thickly, your throat dry. Do you want her to? God, yes. It’s not even a question. You don’t just want her—you think you might need her in this moment, need her to fix that ache that’s been building between your legs since she first kissed you tonight.
But it’s scary. Already, you’ve never been this exposed with anyone before, and this—this is something else entirely. A deeper kind of intimacy, one you thought you’d be ready for but now realize the weight of. Whenever you pictured what your first time might be like, you never really thought it would be too important, but now, here, with Paige above you, it feels monumental.
But who else would it be, if not her? Paige, who makes you feel safe, wanted, adored. You trust her in a way you’ve never trusted anyone. She’s kind, patient, and you like her so much it almost hurts. It only makes sense for it to be her. Even if it’s scary. Even if the thought creeps in—what if you’re not enough for her? What if you’re different from the others she’s been with, and she’s disappointed?
Your thoughts are interrupted as Paige reaches for your hand, her fingers threading through yours in a gentle, grounding gesture. Her eyes stay on yours, searching, concerned. She says your name, softly, once, then again. And then, “Baby…” Her voice cracks just slightly, and it tugs at something deep inside you. “Please don’t feel pressured. It’s okay. We don’t gotta do anything else.”
The way she says it, so sincere and unselfish, almost undoes you. You shake your head quickly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I don’t feel pressured,” you say, and though your voice wavers, it’s honest. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continue. “Just… just keep going, please.”
She hesitates, her eyes locked on yours for a long moment, as if she’s searching for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. When she seems to find nothing but your own need and trust, she nods, her expression softening into something almost reverent.
“Okay,” she murmurs, her lips pressing a kiss to your stomach, this one gentler than the ones before, less insistent but no less meaningful. She kisses you again, and again, her hands moving slowly as her fingers hook around the waistband of your sweatpants.
She pulls them down your legs with care, her eyes flicking back to yours to make sure it’s still okay. You nod, your heart racing but your body completely at ease with her. And as Paige tosses the sweatpants aside, her hands return to your hips, her lips never far from your skin, and you feel nothing but trust, nothing but her.
She places feather-light kisses along your inner thighs, moving slowly, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. Her hands rest on your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles that feel both soothing and electrifying. When her lips press against the edge of your underwear, your heart races so fast it’s all you can hear.
And then, without breaking her rhythm, she tilts her head slightly and presses a soft, lingering kiss right over your clothed clit. The sensation is light, almost teasing, but it sends a shiver coursing through you. You take a shaky breath through your nose, swallowing hard, because she’s barely touched you, and already your body feels like it’s on fire.
When her fingers slide to the waistband of your underwear, she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The unspoken question is there again, and this time, you don’t even need to think about it. “Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, nodding as your chest rises and falls a little faster.
Paige nods back, her expression soft but full of intent, and she hooks her fingers around the elastic, sliding your underwear down slowly, carefully, as if she’s unwrapping something fragile. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver, and when her gaze lowers, taking you in fully for the first time, you feel your face heat up, a mixture of anticipation and self-consciousness twisting in your chest.
Instinctively, your legs start to close, but Paige catches them gently, her hands warm and steady as she presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t hide,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. When you don’t immediately relax, she looks up at you, sincerity written all over her face. “You’re so pretty, baby,” she says, her words soft but firm, like a promise.
Her reassurance eases some of the tension, and when she presses another kiss to your thigh—this one closer to where you want her—you let your legs fall open again, trusting her. Paige doesn’t rush. She kisses along your thigh again, then again, each one inching closer to where your body feels like it’s burning.
And then she’s there, her breath warm against your clit as she places the softest kiss there. The contact has you gasping quietly, your hips shifting involuntarily. She pauses, letting her lips linger, as if testing your response. When you let out a quiet, broken sound, she pulls back just slightly, her eyes lifting to yours as if checking one last time.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” she whispers, her hands smoothing up and down your thighs. You nod quickly, a whispered, “Okay,” tumbling out, though it feels like an understatement.
And then, without wasting any more time, Paige’s tongue slides along your core. That alone is enough to make your whole body flex, your stomach shuddering. Before you even get to process that foreign feeling of her tongue running up your slit, Paige presses her mouth against your clit completely, rolling her tongue right to the collection of nerves.
Her tongue alternates between soft, sweeping strokes and precise flicks that have you gasping for breath. It’s almost too much, and yet, not enough all at once. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a moan finally escapes when her tongue moves a certain way, hitting a spot that has your whole body tightening. The sound you make is desperate, unrestrained, and your face flushes in embarrassment. But Paige doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, she doubles down, a soft moan escaping her lips, vibrating against you that sends a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through your body.
Jesus Christ, she’s good at this. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it makes you wonder how many people she’s been with, how much practice she’s had to make you feel like this. But then her tongue slips inside you, making you forget any and all of your thoughts, before it slides back out and smoothes back along your clit.
“Mmm, P,” you manage to gasp, your voice shaky and uneven. She glances up at you, her gaze meeting yours, and the sight of her—eyes dark with want, lips glistening—sends heat flooding through you. When she holds your gaze and tilts her head just slightly, her tongue hitting that same perfect spot again, your head falls back against the pillow, a breathless cry slipping out.
“Right there?” she murmurs, her voice low and muffled against you. The vibrations of her words are enough to make you tremble, and all you can do is nod, your fingers tightening in her hair as you whisper a choked, “Yeah—yes, shit.”
Paige doesn’t let up for a second, her lips and tongue working in seamless harmony to drive you closer and closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming, how good she is at this. Every flick of her tongue, every deliberate motion feels impossibly intentional, like she knows exactly what to do to unravel you piece by piece. Your thighs tense around her, hands tangling into her blonde hair as you press her closer, hips shifting instinctively to meet her movements.
Her hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as she focuses all of her attention on you. You can feel the intensity in every motion she makes—each swirl of her tongue, every press of her lips against you is filled with purpose. She’s completely locked in, as if nothing else in the world exists but you. The tension in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.
The noises slipping from your lips are no longer something you can control. You’ve never felt anything like this before, never imagined something could feel this good. Your hips move against her instinctively, searching for more, for everything she can give you. And Paige? Paige meets you exactly where you are, matching your every movement with a rhythm that drives you absolutely wild. As your legs begin to shake, she seems to sense your need for something more, and she slides her hands beneath your thighs, lifting your legs and placing them over her shoulders to get ever closer to your wet, dripping cunt.
“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure builds higher and higher. You’re teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. Paige doesn’t stop, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration as her her mouth becomes more precise and focused, tongue swiping so quickly against your wetness that you can tell she’s determined to push you over. “Paige, I think I’m gonna—”
You feel her nod against you, her tongue chasing the movement, and, between her kitten-licks and sucks, she gasps, breathless herself, “I know, I know. I gotchu, ma.”
And when she dives back in, taking your clit into her mouth and sucking it, her teeth scraping against you, her head shaking with the effort, that seems to do it. Your body tenses, toes curling as you gasp her name again, louder this time. The dam finally breaks, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you so intensely that it leaves you trembling. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your hand grips Paige’s hair tightly, holding her to you as your orgasm overtakes you, your pussy dripping.
Fuck.
Paige doesn’t pull away, her hands steady on your thighs as she guides you through it, her tongue slowing its movements but not stopping, easing you gently down from your peak. Your body shudders with aftershocks, and you’re left breathless, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
When Paige finally pulls back, her lips are swollen and glistening, a soft, almost smug smile on her face. She crawls up your body, pressing a kiss to your hip, then your stomach, before finally reaching your lips again. Her kiss is soft, tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of what just happened.
“Hey,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice gentle as she brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You good?”
You nod, still catching your breath, and manage to whisper, “That was… fuck, P.”
Paige grins, her fingers lightly tracing circles along your side. “Did so good for me,” she murmurs, her voice warm and affectionate. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
Her words make your heart flutter, and you bury your face in her neck, a shy smile spreading across your lips. Paige wraps her arms around you, pulling you close as you both settle into the bed. The steady rhythm of her breathing against you is soothing, grounding you after all of… that.
“I’m really glad it was you,” you murmur softly, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her shoulder.
Paige presses a kiss to the top of your head, her voice low and full of sincerity as she replies, “Me too.”
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