#either way it feels hopeless sometimes

[1percentcharge]

is it normal to only get crushes that are like. Reflective of how much the other person seems interested in you. I feel like I’m gonna be alone forever because I don’t ask people out because there isn’t a cell in my body that *wants* to ask a supposed person out until he seems somewhat interested in me and by that point I get too insecure to do it because I figure that if he really WAS interested he would’ve said so already. And thus nothing happens

[rainswept]

therapy (alternate title: talking about white boy for 50 minutes straight)

[koroart]

Fellas — is it gay to realize how beautiful your best friend is while he’s staring at the sunset ? 🤔 ( WIP )

[itsalwaysdark]

i am okay tho i just have momeys sometimrs . please do not ever worry abt me guys

[mettywiththenotes]

I wish irl things would stop happening so I could start thinking about media I like again

[interstellarbookofflowers]

happy points bc its day 1 of mental health intervetion/treatment and im so ready to be alive finally

i saw my best friend sing live on a christmas concert the other day. they are mesmerizing on stage, they did great and they got a lot of cheers bc theyre absolutely phenomenal!!!

i am slowly but surely learning barre chords and its painful and my tiny tiny rheumatic hands keep cramping but its all COMING TOGETHER

i crocheted a squishy pillow

yesterday i tried to make some art and i made some goofy ass looking frog blobs

i have high hopes for the friendship with my best friend progressing in a way that is insane for both of us, the trust we are and will be building is like nothing else

also i cooked yesterday!! it's the blandest yellow curry youve ever seen but it will do, i didnt go shopping for curry ingredients 🤡

my friend came over on saturday!!! we had a lot of snacks, infodumps and also a sweet singing session! shes the best frfr

[novy2sirius]

MOON HOUSE CORE © novy2sirius

trigger warning: suicide, violence, eating, hypochondria, trauma, mental health issues ♡

this is just a random post abt things ppl with these placements could experience ♡

these r only abt isolated placements so take it with a grain of salt bc the whole chart matters ♡

a lot of these r experiences i’ve heard from my friends and ppl who’ve purchased readings from me directly ♡

moon in 1h core

not being able to hide ur emotions bc they’re literally evident on ur face, youthful beauty, constantly changing ur outlook on life depending on how u feel at the time, getting told u look young for ur age, getting mad bc boys/girls call u cute instead of hot, mothering everyone, likes to be pampered and babied, throws child-like fits if lower vibrational, being a lot like ur mom even tho sometimes u don’t wanna admit it, even if ur a boy having emotional responses like a teenage girl, growing up with parents that had anger issues so now u have anger issues, being asked if ur sad all the time by ppl when ur not even sad it’s just ur resting face, having a comforting aura, ur mood instantly being ruined the moment anything makes u insecure at all, looking good in light blue and white outfits

moon in 2h core

having a cute voice, wanting to spend all ur money bc u had a bad day and r emotional, eating bc u’re emotional af, ur comfort place being a restaurant/fast food spot, having a wife who brings lots of stability to ur life, having a good singing voice, feeling emotionally connected to inanimate objects such as ur stuffed animal, not feeling happy around ppl who bring instability to ur life, spending all ur money on things related to music/food, love language is gift giving and physical touch, not feeling loved by ur partner when they don’t hug u every second, feeling more comfortable around ppl who share the same values as u, only having a good work ethic when ur happy, caring abt ppl more when they spoil u with gifts

moon in 3h core

being extremely charming and able to persuade others easily, having a rly soft voice and being told u sound like a child, being scared to do anything when ur sibling/a companion doesn’t come with u, feeling more emotionally connected to ppl u share similar opinions/interests with, being more talkative around ppl when ur comfortable and quiet around random ppl, posting emo stuff on social media when u were in middle school, having a lot of the same interests as ur mom, being close with ur neighbors growing up and riding bikes with them around the neighborhood and selling lemonade on the side of the road, being obsessed with romance books

moon in 4h core

playing house a lot as a kid, either being rly close with ur mom or having extreme mommy issues, being obsessed with self care related things and not being able to go to sleep without doing ur skin care routine, being emotional just by existing, coming off as emotional even when ur not emotional, feeling deep emotion for ppl and feeling attached to them and then realizing that they don’t feel the same way bc u’ve literally only talked for a week and u just have a problem with getting attached to ppl easily, feeling most comfortable with people that make u feel feminine, being a talented nurse or realtor, having a very nurturing aura

moon in 5h core

having a lot of hobbies that don’t involve leaving ur house, being hot, ppl always telling u that u have celebrity/star vibes, having a bunch of creative ideas but being afraid to share them bc ur shy, being insanely dramatic and then later regretting it heavily, being a good actor, contemplating killing urself every time u got grounded as a kid bc ur dramatic, feeling happiest when ur by the ocean or water, being a hopeless romantic, falling in love w cancer placements but wishing u didn’t, loving mango/citrus flavored foods/drinks, being scared of violent video games and wanting to play sims or minecraft instead, being rly good with kids/kids naturally loving u, growing up with egotistical parents, rewatching the same films/shows over and over bc they bring u comfort

moon in 6h core

being able to tell how someone rly feels even when they try and hide it bc u can analyze ppl rly well, loves animals and feels better when they have an emotional support pet, love language is acts of service and gift giving, having rly bad anxiety any time u leave the house (and in general) these ppl r huge homebodies, being a hypochondriac and thinking ur gonna die every time u have a single bad physical health symptom and googling ur symptoms then becoming even more worried bc google says ur abt to have a heart attack, chronic overthinker

moon in 7h core

being rly charming and having a lot of secret admirers, being scared to come outside ur comfort zone without a companion/partner with u, being fruity af, making ur friends/lovers order food for u bc ur too shy to, wanting harmony/peace and hating when someone argues with u or tries to start conflict with u but unfortunately still managing to attract lots of enemies even when u try to avoid drama, being able to negotiate with others easily, trying to be nice to ppl and killing them with kindness and u still end up getting hurt, being attractive to society but insecure abt ur looks, feeling sad if u don’t look pretty at all times, moving to live near ur bf/gf bc ur too attached to be in a long distance relationship, hates hookup culture

moon in 8h core

being sexualized a lot, ppl randomly confiding in u abt their traumas when u didn’t even bring anything abt it up, not being able to hookup bc you’ll get too attached, having a lot of family trauma that has now affected u emotionally and made u rly defensive any time someone talks to u in a slightly off tone, being a witch, doing love spells on ur crush so they’ll like u, having dark humor, feeling like u wanna die on ur period and going insane and acting like another person and then when u go off it realizing how dramatic u were, getting a boob job, being sent d*ck/p*ssy pics a lot without even asking for them, getting inheritance from ur family, getting surgery when u were young, spiritually transforming the most when ur alone

moon in 9h core

wanting to leave ur home country and never come back, trying to run away as a kid and packing a bag then coming back bc ur scared after only getting half way down ur street, adapting to ur surroundings quickly and easily being influenced by others, having a closer connection with ur grandparents than ur actual parents, having good ethics and not vibing with ppl around u who don’t, having ur first romantic relationship in college, feeling more comfortable around cultures outside of ur own or feeling more emotionally connected to cultures outside of ur own, cutting out ppl quickly when they’re negative and when they don’t support ur plans in life, having a thing for athletic boys/girls

moon in 10h core

having a star-like quality, finding comfort in being a workhorse and working all the time and using it as a way to distract urself from all ur problems in life, feeling like life is meaningless if ur not constantly going out and doing things, trying to keep things private but they end up getting out anyway, having a reputation of being a softie, feeling closer to ur dad than ur mom or having extreme daddy issues no in between, leaving behind a legacy that inspires others and touches them emotionally, being talented in careers that r an emotional outlet for u

moon in 11h core

having a very friendly aura and being able to socialize well but still sometimes having a low social battery at the same time, having a lot of influence on others and attracting a lot of ppl that r fans of u, being easily influenced and sometimes easily manipulated, having a lot of mood swings, being emotionally unpredictable, fearing being alone/dying alone and ppl abandoning u, being able to social network rly well, being closer to a step/half parent than a biological parent, throwing the best house parties, forming closer emotional connections online than in real life, being closer to ur online friends than in person friends, having a deep desire for someone to just care abt u and give u attention

moon in 12h core

having a lot of dreams that weirdly predict things almost perfectly, being obsessed with the feeling of nostalgia but also hating it at the same time, having an ethereal beauty, using astrology as a way to get an explanation for ur trauma so u can feel more validated, falling into a deep depression every time u run out of shows to watch, imagining fake scenarios in ur head abt rly bad things happening and crying over it when ur bored, looking like a mermaid/man, dwelling on the past a lot, being able to mask rly well and pretend ur someone ur not and doing it sm to fit in that u don’t even know who u r anymore, struggling with mental health issues ever since u were a child and feeling like u were sad even as a kid but not knowing why, hearing ppl talk randomly when ur abt to fall asleep but no one’s there, having a lot of hidden enemies that u may have had a close emotional connection with before that end up stabbing u in the back, feeling alone even when ur not alone

comment if u want more of these 🗣️

[apomaro-mellow]

inspired by this post

The last thing on Steve's mind was Eddie Munson. Even when he was all Dustin could talk about. He barely spared the guy a thought when they were in school together to begin with. Eddie occupied precisely zero percent of his brain space.

So it was kind of jarring to have him suddenly take up all the space he had. Steve had come to the school to pick up Dustin, Mike, and Lucas only to see them crowding around Eddie, who was holding one of the nurse's trusty ice packs to his face.

Steve usually just honked his horn to get them to run up and get in, but there was no separating them right now. And the moment Steve walked over, there was a cacophony of voices, shouting over each other. He had to shout even louder to get them to stop and Eddie's wince didn't go unnoticed.

Once it was quiet, Steve only asked. "Who?"

"Jason and his cronies", Mike spat out.

"All of you, car. Now."

"But-!"

"Now!", Steve ordered. The three of them shifted and Steve realized he needed to be specific because obviously they weren't going to leave Eddie behind. And leaving him wasn't a part of Steve's plan either.

"All of you. Munson, you get to ride shotgun."

He didn't wait long enough to see Eddie's expression before turning to get in his car. There was a mad scramble and once again they continued to shout at each other, trying to tell the story. Steve didn't even bother trying to quiet them then, settling for having to piece together the story.

He knew Lucas had tried out for basketball. Between Steve and Mr. Sinclair, he'd gone from hopeless to hopeful. Steve even warned Lucas that sometimes the team did a little hazing for the new recruits. Apparently the hazing went too far in Lucas' case and Eddie stepped in.

Steve never would have expected Eddie to care. To actually step between Lucas and danger when he'd gone out for sports instead of his weird nerd club. Steve found it easy to relate. When they got to his house, he didn't mean to, but basically manhandled Eddie to the bathroom where the first aid kit was.

"Umm-"

"Don't talk", Steve said. Both because he needed to work on his face and also because he wasn't sure what Eddie would say. This was weird, of course it was. But it was the right thing to do. Steve wondered when the right thing would start to feel less weird. After patching Eddie up, he sent him to the living room. Dustin had already turned the tv to something, taking advantage of the Harrington's sound system. And Mike and Lucas were already raiding the fridge.

"Don't get too comfortable", Steve said, hands on his hips. He sighed before heading up to his room. The nail bat was still in his trunk, but he wouldn't need a weapon that rough. When he came back downstairs, bat hanging over his shoulder, Eddie's non-swollen eye got wide.

"Where are you going with that?"

"Taking care of some business", Steve said. "If I'm not back in an hour, order some pizza. Eddie and only Eddie is allowed to drink the beers in the fridge."

There was a trio of groans, but Eddie was still to gobsmacked to speak.

"What the hell is he about to do?", he finally found the words once Steve was out the door.

"Probably gonna bust some kneecaps on Lucas' behalf", Mike said before crunching on a handful of potato chips.

Eddie looked to Dustin for confirmation. There was no way, right? But Dustin only grinned.

"I told you. Bad. Ass."

Eddie still didn't believe it even when Steve returned, a bit sweaty and hair slightly mussed, the beginning of a bruise on his cheek but otherwise unscathed.

He had to believe it when he found out Jason and a few other players suddenly had broken hands or legs.

[kingofdandelions]

Advice is uh, make sure to actually go through with it and not give up halfways

Go all in, and also tell him up front and not with a text cus texts can be misinterpreted and screenshotted

Maybe practise to the mirror or a friend so you dont stutter and fuck up as much

And if you cry, then dont apologise for it, its okay to cry and its okay to be sad if you get rejected.

Afterwards make sure to get yourself something nice, a snack or a gift to yourself for being brave enough to confess.

If you're that certain that he'll reject you then think of it as a good thing, cus afterwards you wont have to worry about whether or not he likes you, since you'll know. So then it will be a "okay since that youre sure he doesnt like you back, now you dont have to worry about that anymore" thing

Tho tbf Im not an expert on this topic, so idk, but this is my guess as for what to do

hey uh

im going to tell him i like him in 2 weeks

and im so scared

and i have to prepare myself to not cry infort of him when he rejects me

so yeah

(i need advice if someone has)

[lupinqs]

CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader

☆ ━ word count: 5.4K

☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)

☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write

PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.

And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.

She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.

And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.

So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.

Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.

At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)

From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.

And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.

It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.

You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.

But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.

With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.

Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.

Right into you.

The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.

She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.

The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.

So much for not getting distracted.

After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.

Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.

And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.

She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.

You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”

Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.

But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.

There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”

You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”

There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.

“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.

You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.

You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”

And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.

She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.

IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.

Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.

She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.

“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.

Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”

But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.

“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”

You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”

Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”

KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.

There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.

“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”

You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”

She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…

She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”

There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—

Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”

Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”

Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”

Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.

As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.

Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.

It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.

“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.

“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.

There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.

“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.

You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.

“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.

Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”

You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.

Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”

You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”

Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”

You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”

Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.

There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”

Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”

You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”

The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”

You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”

Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.

She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”

You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”

She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”

It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.

And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.

Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”

The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”

You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.

“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”

It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.

Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”

It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.

The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.

Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.

It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.

When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.

Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”

Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”

The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.

“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.

[writella]

Thinking about Rick and slightly innocent, touch starved, virgin, fem!reader— ♡

Just smut this time, 18+, mdni, wc: 1.8k.

Read part two: here!

“I usually just touch myself at the top,” you explain, verbalizing your actions as you rub your clit with your middle finger, your pointer and ring brushing up against either side of your lips. You’re breathless, already panting. Doing this in front of him was too much. You just couldn’t believe this was happening, that he was here watching, enjoying. “Barely even put my fingers in- I get nervous- never feels good.”

“Never?” There’s a bit of surprise in Rick’s voice, but the grin he’s hiding loves every second of you showing him how much you need something- something bigger, something or someone like him and his fingers— his cock.

You pout with a hmph, “No,” you whine, your eyes trailing desperately. “They feel like nothing when I do it. And I don’t know how to make it feel good.”

Your actions, your words, it makes his tongue peek out of the side of his mouth. It’s only just a little, but a tiny bit drool is at the edge, almost rolling down and onto his chin. He licks it away before it falls.

His eyes are dark and lustful, dazed with the sight of you in only a shirt, underwear discarded, rubbing your puffy, wet pussy so fast right in front of him. He had been talking to Daryl outside the house, came up to get you for dinner at his, but then he caught you. He didn’t mean to, but the door was just a crack open: with one eye he could see your legs dangling off the bed, nose and eyes scrunched so tightly as your fingers played with yourself, whispering his name. That’s what set him off, the sweet little “Rick… Rick, Rick,” pants that came out of your mouth. That’s what made him come in without knocking. He told you not to stop.

And now, he stands right in front of your bed. Any closer and he’d be in between your legs. He can see you staring down every inch of him, eyes so wide, hopeful yet hopeless. You’re pathetically whimpering and whining at his own— those sparkly blue and wandering ones. He’s just as invested in the sight as you are.

You look at his pink parted lips and his tongue you want so badly in your mouth, and lower too, so much lower. You see his slick, curly hair, and that scruffy beard— you wouldn’t even care if it would make your sensitive lips burn down there. You want it. So bad. Your eyes go down further, seeing the way his hands are placed low at his hips, his groin jutted forward… Fuck. You need to see what’s underneath.

You rub your clit faster with two fingers now, biting on your bottom lip, looking at his fat bulge and wondering if he’s just getting hard or if it’s always looked big like that. It makes you feel like this one of your daydreams… you don’t know if your mind is enlarging it, but wow it looks good. You’d honestly sit on him right there, jeans and all with your bare pussy. Who cares if he’s been working all day, dealing with God knows what outside these walls. You’ll take anything. You bet even the littlest bit of something from him probably feels better than when you’re alone doing this anyway. You were tired of it, you wanted to be touched; you wanted to be fucked— fucked by Rick Grimes.

Rick finally sits on the bed. His face closer to you now as he asks, “You’ve ever made yourself cum, sweetheart?”

You're hesitant to answer but you shake your head, shy and slow. You feel embarrassed.

A chronic overthinker you were sometimes, you could never be in the moment and finally get yourself over the edge. Thinking about Rick always led to thinking about how you shouldn’t be doing it. He was the leader of your group, he had a daughter and a son, ones that you were far older than, but just enough to not possibly be their mother… at least not the eldest, anyway. This was wrong, but there he was: watching, staring, gazing. It only made you more and more wet, you almost couldn’t breathe.

“Poor baby,” Rick drawls and you whimper at the phrase.

He decides to relieve you, but only just a little bit by brushing his hand on your leg, stroking your thigh as he finally sits down next to you. It makes you gasp as you continue to pleasure yourself. Reaching lower to collect wetness to put over your clit. Your back arches at the feeling of him.

The sight makes him grin, laughing endearingly. Just that— just his hand, not even on your pussy and you’re already reeling.

“Such a pretty little thing, and no one’s ever made you feel good…? Can’t even do it to yourself either?” He tisks at the thought. “It’s a shame, honestly.”

All you do is whine. You want him to do it but you’re too scared to ask. You want him to want to do it, without asking, go all in and make you his. Why won’t he? It makes your moan, mix with a groan as you think about it.

You look up as his hand moves higher to your hip and his name comes out all desperate and needy as you plead, “Rick-”

“Yes?”

“Please.”

He ignores you. “Put a finger inside yourself. Let’s try again, okay? How about that?”

You whine his name again, but you still do as he says. Your hand trails lower, inserting your middle finger into your wet hole.

“Start pumping… and how ‘bout this time you try to curl your finger upward after you go in, hm?” You try, humming in response to his voice and his hand moving back to your leg, softly rubbing up and down your thigh as he watches you.

He notices your breath hitching. “Good girl,” he coos, “add another.”

You attempt to pump yourself faster now with the two fingers inside of you, looking up at him. Your pussy twitches and you jut upwards at the sight of him licking his lips. “Just pretend it’s me,” he tells you, “And don’t stop. I wouldn’t.”

His hand rests back on your hip, fingers daring to reach your mound as they slide slowly, but he’s hesitating. He wants you to do it all by yourself, but he sees your face, sees what just his voice and his watching does to you. You were always a good listener, a team player, never skipped on doing your part when he asked it of you, but this, this new power he had over you? It was something else. He can’t help but want to see what happens when he gives you just a little more.

His fingers now lightly ghost over your lips and your eyes implore. Your gasp is shaky. You’re almost holding your breath waiting for the full press but… he doesn’t do it yet.

He’s being a fucking tease.

The cockiness is evident in his voice when he asks, “Want me to?”

“Yes,” you moan, loud and instantly. It’s pitiful, you’re a mess and you want him so bad you couldn’t help it, but the beg worked. Right after, he starts rubbing harsh circles into your clit, making you vibrate.

“Oh- ohmygod, Rick.” You try to keep pumping yourself but it becomes hard. You’ve dreamed about his hands, right there on your most intimate parts, making you feel good and showing you how it’s supposed to really feel. And finally. He’s doing it. His rough fingertips felt like heaven.

Your own fingers stutter. His hand and yours are just too much for you, especially because of how deep and fast he’s rubbing against your skin and bone. “Rick, please,” you want him to go lower, take over, and he notices how your fingers slow.

“No,” he warns. “Keep goin’.” His voice is stern, stopping you before you do, he takes your hand and helps you pump your fingers into yourself before letting go. “You’re doing that yourself. Go faster.”

Your cheek falls to the opposite side of the bed, whimpering sadly at his words, but you continue.

“You got it,” he encourages. “Put another finger in.”

“Another?” Your voice incredulous as you ask.

“Gotta train yourself with your fingers before you get mine.” He pauses. “And before you can get up to my dick… How do you think it’s gonna fit if we don’t open you up?”

You let out a moan, it’s the kind that you had only heard on tv in the past. Just the sheer thought of him insinuating that soon he would put himself inside of you sends you spiraling. You add a third finger, it feels tight, but good, especially with him there.

“There you go,” he says, stretching out the syllables. He feels his jeans tighten further as he watches you.

And you only get wetter. The squelching sounds from below are nothing you’ve ever heard from yourself before. Your pussy shakes and sucks your fingers below with Rick rubbing and pinching your clit at the top. You speak between pants, moaning again, “Rick… Rick, its too much.” You’re trying to keep up your pace but you feel your energy withering again. You close your eyes.

“That means you’re making yourself cum soon. Keep going.”

“It hurts, I can’t do it!”

“You can do it,” he nods, “and if you don’t… I’ll just leave you here.”

A quick, “No!” and a string of “mmms” come out as you whine. You don’t want him to go, so you try, you keep up.

Rick lets go of your clit and it makes you gasp sadly at the loss, but he’s pushing up your shirt, exposing your breast. He takes one hand to rub your clit again and another to roll one of your nipples. “This is the only extra help you get,” he tells you. “Now are you going to cum for me?”

You nod, “Yes, yes,” you chant, “I can do it for you, Rick.”

“Show me.”

You continue to pump fast, curling your fingers as he suggested before. You find a spongy part that makes you feel extra tingling in your lower stomach and you keep trying to push up against it with each pump of your fingers. You decide to open your eyes again to watch Rick as his eyes trail between your breasts to below, you choose to focus the way your fingers look as they go in and out of you and how his hand rubs and shakes you at the top. Indescribable noises come out at the sight. “I’m losing it,” you tell him.

“Just keep goin’,” he tells you. “See it through.”

You start panting in between your stringy moans, it’s breathy and hurried and long. You force yourself to not stop. “I’m gonna cum, Rick. I’m gonna make myself cum!”

“I know, sweetheart. I know you can. Be a good girl for me, you got it.”

And then you do. The butterflies spring. You continue to pump as you ride your high and then it’s done. You came.

Rick smiles, licking his fingers filled with your wetness. He stands up, knees making their way between your own that lay on the bed as he starts undoing his belt. As he drops his pants and his boxers you see his cock spring up. It’s glossy at the tip and although you haven’t seen many, you’re completely sure it’s longer than most.

But it gets you scared. There’s worry in your eyes. Your lip quivers despite the drool that comes out on the side. How’s it gonna fit?

“You ready?” He asks.

“But I thought you said your fingers first.”

He kisses your lips, fingers caressing your cheek as he whispers, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go slow.”

Then he pushes himself in. Right to the hilt.

He didn’t go slow.

[t3ag3rs]

♡ bakugou headcannons !

i felt like a hopeless romantic today so why not have some random headcannons?

i personally feel like bakugou wouldnt be looking for a relationship because of his ambition to wanna be a hero. so he kinda has that "itll come my way when its time" mentality with dating.

dont hate me but i think bakugou is the type of person to not "fall in love at first sight"

if he does find you interesting though, its because of the sole reasons of either your quirk or your personality. thats it- no other reason.

secretly probably has a thing for thick/curvy/muscular women, you cannot tell me otherwise.

once you two start talking more he'll secretly enjoy the way you yap when it comes to things you like or about something you genuinely cant stand.

i think bakugou wont be the one to make the first move unless like mina or someone tells him that you secretly have a fat crush on him as well.

on the other hand, if you were to confess to him he would try to act as nonchalant as possible but would be embarrassed, happy + his ego would definitely inflate.

once you both go public it is OVER for all the other "extras". bakugou would be showing you off left and right- "hey you see that hottie over there? guess what? shes mine- now look the other way!"

would be lowk scared that his brash personality would make you leave him for someone else, but you would always insist he was all you ever needed and thats all he needed to go back to the cocky bastard you know and love.

is a SUCKER for random compliments and physical touch. you hold his hand on the way out the class? instant butterflies. "your eyes are so pretty suki..!" fuck. he was whipped for you.

bakugou loves it when you massage his back or shoulders after a hard day of training. oh, and when you run your hands through his hair? hes on cloud nine.

loves cooking for you, but leaves the baking to you. he absolutely CANNOT bake for his life. would get too frustrated after having to do the same step multiple times because the recipe called for it and would just end up combining all the steps in one.

wont admit it but he loves when you use him as your walking heater. "bakugou im crampinggggg..." "here..." he says as he places his palm on your stomach as you sigh in content. he cant help but find it adorable when you force yourself on him if he doesnt do it himself.

last but not least... sleeping. hates being the small spoon because it makes him feel unimportant :( will sometimes stay up just to see your cheeks squished on to his chest as you sleep- dont be surprised to see photos of you like that on his phone.

slow mornings with bakugou is so sweet and soft. he would definitely press small kisses to your neck after each compliment he would say about you. only when youre asleep ofc. if you wake up and show even the slightest sign of knowing what he did, he would take a pillow and smack your face with it 100%. all with love though ofc. besides, its not like you didnt know about it for months now.

lol idek if this is good since its my first time but uhhhh lmk what yall think.

[mesetacadre]

(sorry in advance for the more personal ask, you're the most intelligent person i know of when it comes to these things)

genuinely, how are we supposed to find the strength to go on? it feels like capitalism has won. only a few decades ago my country was openly and proudly socialist, and now we're nothing but an american military base with an economy. everything's been privatised, the unions are broken, the people are starving, and we keep voting for more of this! people are gleefully begging for yet more exploitation! sometimes it feels there's not a drop of class consciousness to be found in the entire country, and that it's pointless to even hope for change. how can i stay sane?

The class struggle is not a team sport which either side can win or lose. It is a historical and economic process, one that's inevitable. As long as capitalism exists, there will be a social majority of workers it must exploit, alienation will still happen, and a portion of these workers will be aware of this fact. The class struggle is also a long process, one that, most of the time, is imperceptible to the individual in physical and time scale. Only sometimes, it accelerates to dizzying speeds and the conditions necessary for taking power are met. We can talk about victories and defeats, but we can't lose sight of the fact that those "only" are points in time, momentaneous advances or retreats in the process that is the class struggle, but they never mean the paralization of this process.

We can only really talk about the bourgeoisie taking power and creating the first properly capitalist states in the late 18th century and early 19th, but the bourgeoisie had lead or taken part in attempts at or glimpes of revolution as far back as the early 16th century. The bourgeoisie never really had an unifying theory of the class struggle, most were never really fully conscious of it. But they still eventually took power, once the development of the national economies advanced so far that it forced the replacement of the feudal mode of production, the bourgeois revolutions became inevitable. Marx and Engels only ever saw one real attempt at the proletariat taking power, in the Paris Commune of 1871, but it only ever lasted a few months. They both were long dead when the first actually (relatively) long-lasting instance of the proletariat in power broke the oppressor classes' veneer of invincibility.

When Marxists talk of inevitability it is not in a conspiratorial manner, or an expression of satisfied optimism, we never mean that "one day the capitalists will get what's coming to them", in a vague way. We mean that, only if communists continue to work towards the revolutionary organization of our class, is a complete overthrow of capitalism inevitable. We should all do an exercise is historical perspective when it comes to analyzing progress, take the Marx and Engels example from the previous paragraph, they never got to see an effective application of their theories. Class consciousness will fluctuate continuously, it always has. The bolshevik party in 1913 had nothing to do with the party that lead the October Revolution, and 8 years after the defeat of the 1905 revolution, I bet many felt like their work was hopeless. My point is that, while the borders of the Communist Party may shrink, grow, or even disappear, and while we might be savagely oppressed, no system of oppression has ever lasted forever.

When it comes to revolutions, there are objective and subjective conditions. The objective we can never control; it's the stability of capitalism, the characteristics of its suprastructure, if there is a crisis or not. The subjective is what's under our control; our own work as communists, the state of the revolutionary party, the degree of influence of communists at the core of the working class. These two sets of conditions interact with one another, with the objective conditions influencing the possibility of development of the subjective conditions much more than the reverse. What makes you hopeless is in part the objective conditions. Capitalism is quite stable right now (though not as much as it ever seems), and, for now, we can't do much about it, because the subjective conditions, the other part of your homelessness, are also very delayed. But these we do have control over, at first very little, but as they improve, the control we have over them also increases. Essentially, friend, all we can do is prepare our class, do our best to gain more workers to our cause, bit by bit, so that once capitalism shows one of its cracks, we can be ready to pry those cracks open and bust the whole system. The Russian soldiers in WW1 were already discontent when the bolsheviks began to agitate up to the trenches, Mao's guerrillas grew to an army taking advantage of the deep fragmentation China suffered throughout the first half of the century, etc.

Once again, class struggle is not a straight line that we move in two directions. It is a complex space. The overthrow of the USSR was a very profound blow to revolutionary organizations all around the world, of course, but the state of communism in general in 1995 was still in a much better position than it was merely 90 years prior. Every defeat also sharpens the tactics and strategies we use. Eastern Europe (where I assume you're from) did use to be socialist, and those worker's states were overthrown. But you are still in a better position than a communist in the interwar period, facing borderline fascistic dictatorship and a future of Nazi-Fascist occupation. They did not have any precedent or much practical experience to learn from, but you do. Every day that we delay work, even in the most hopeless of contexts, is a day more that our grandchildren will have to bear in capitalism, and a day more they're deprived of true freedom and self-government

[zillychu]

Trigun fucking destroys me, okay.

It's about persisting through the most horrific obstacles imaginable, and never losing hope for yourself and others. It's about the fruit your efforts bear, but it doesn't ignore the ugliness of the suffering you endure. It doesn't sweep it under the rug to give you a happy ending.

As a jaded millennial, I get a bit tired of stories where everything turns out fine because the heroes tried hard. Most stories gloss over the repercussions of failure. They tell us it's all simply a means to an end, and that end is what matters. Overcoming your obstacle matters. Winning matters.

Trigun doesn't do this.

Vash gets hurt (gross understatement). He's ostracized, bullied, threatened, haunted, forced to see the darkest underbelly of humanity. He's subjected to the worst parts of life that are grotesquely ruthless, unforgiving, hopeless. He's forced to reconcile a lot of his goals (like never killing anyone), but not the core of his beliefs.

Not once does he falter in his trust that people are capable of good, that we all deserve that chance to be. He never has a revelation that shakes his faith in humanity, despite constantly being given every reason to. He's the irritatingly optimistic anime protagonist who looks at impossible odds and says "everything will be alright", the way no one can in real life because it never works out that way for us.

And it doesn't for him, either.

Vash does his best, believes in himself, and fails. over and over and over again. He loses everything--loved ones, memories, autonomy. He loses constantly. He's your unrealistically positive hero, being dealt realistically unfavorable hands.

And still, he persists. He never truly wins. Because we never truly win. Life has no happy ending like a story does.

He never truly wins, and yet, he can still find happiness. He meets friends, enjoys good food, watches people love fiercely in both blessing and hardship. He hits unbelievable lows that don't keep him from finding highs. Because he never stops trying to be the best of what he sees in humanity. Because every little bit counts. He never stops believing in humans--believing in you.

Trigun grabs you by the face and stares directly at you. It says "I see you, I see your pain, how much you struggle. I see how sometimes no matter how hard you try, things don't work out. Life isn't a fairy tale. I see how your kindness can come back to hurt you, hurt others. I see you, and I'm proud of you. Life is worth living with love in your heart not because we win, but because we try. We all try. Never stop trying to be kind."

Trigun shows you the cruel reality of life, and leaves you feeling good about it.

I don't know a single piece of media that's able to do that.

[hanaonesflower]

“Princess, can I ask you something?” He speaks, breaking the silence of the long, uneventful car ride. “Sure, anything!” You chirp, unsuspecting of what is to come.

“Why don’t you ever let me do anything for you?” Ushijima says, his eyes remain fixated on the long stretch of roads ahead. The fog heavily roll down the sides the hills on your either sides, lowering visibility. His hand tightens around the wheel, while the other grips yours.

“What do you mean by that?” You sit back, eyes wandering his features, looking for any sign that he’s just cheerfully asking you. Knowing Ushi though, he’s sometimes not as light hearted as you’d think.

“You are always so insistent on doing everything yourself. You won’t let me help you, like earlier, when you refused to let me tie your shoes. That isn’t the first time you refused my help.” He goes on a spiel, his thumb reaches to the toggle and lowers the volume, making his breathing more prominent than ever. It has occur to you that you have always been doing everything by yourself despite his looming figure always by your side. The hyperindependence is slowly starting to bother him. He wants to help you, wants to give you the fullest extent of a princess treatment yet the only thing really holding him back from that is, you.

“It’s just something that I could easily have done for myself, you didn’t need to bother with that, don’t worry, baby,” you try to comfort him, hoping some words of affirmation can help. It really isn’t a big deal, it’s some shoe laces that came undone, not a heavy errand.

As soon as the car is pulled into a parking spot at a rest stop, quickly shifting the car in “park”, turning to you and he sighs. A real sigh. One so full of frustration and… hopelessness. “I’m not bothered. It has never mattered how big or small anything is, I want to do everything for you. Why are you holding yourself back from me?” He is starting to put things into perspective for you. After going through a useless ex-boyfriend, then a man who gave you hot and cold attention, lastly a guy who gave you princess treatment to fill his inflated ego before meeting Ushijima, learning to only rely on yourself has been the protector of your heart, your soul and your sanity. You find that by depending on your good ol’ self is the only way to prevent yourself from throwing your body off a bridge.

“Ushi, it’s not—,” before you can finish your sentence, truthfully you don’t really know what to say. He’s right, you are holding yourself back from him. Holding yourself back from the hurt that you’ve known all too well, he interrupts, holding both your hands in his, “baby, you’re my priority, my everything, your well-being, happiness and comfort are my main concerns and I want it to be that way,” he stops, taking a breath. Reminiscent of the times where Ushijima offered to go so out of his way to help you but being kindly turned down has left him feeling absolutely useless and uneasy. Ushijima’s love language is act of service and because he hasn’t been able to do the bare minimum for you, he feels it eating him alive.

“I am aware of your past, I know that I can’t change what was, but I’m here to make a difference now, I mean it!” You are moved by his words, he means what he says and you know it. You’ve seen it. He’s a big man of his words, always keeping promises, has never ever disappointed you in any way. Yet the walls have been reinforced many times again that it has cemented itself in your life, creating a barrier between the two of you. “I want to open doors for you, pull out chairs for you, pick you up from a friend’s house, drop you off at the airport, all of that, please, baby, please just let me.” You have to say, it is like he is begging for you to allow him in, allow him to integrate further into your system, a system you’ve built to keep you from going down a slippery slope time and time again.

“I’m so grateful for you, Ushi, you’ve done so much for me, you really have. I just feel like I can’t be asking for anymore than what you’ve already given me,” before you can inhale a full breath, he branches his body over to your side of the car and kisses you deeply, so deeply that you melt. “I’m at your disposal, you are my world, let me in, don’t keep shutting me out,” he says, breaking away from the kiss.

You chuckle, “yes, Wakatoshi, I accept your offer,” and you’ve never seen him smile wider. A big, toothy grin coming from the infamously stoic dude. He kisses you again, “thank you, baby.”

He unbuckles your seatbelt, hastily running from his side to yours and opening the door for you, and just like the universe is rooting for the both of you, your shoe laces come undone, again.

[oraclemoontarot]

what is your higher-self like 𓂃⊹ pac tarot reading

from left to right, top to bottom -> pile 1, pile 2, pile 3, pile 4

paid readings

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

pile 1 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

cards pulled: six of pentacles, justice, nine of wands, eight of pentacles, knight of pentacles, six of swords, tower, king of swords, nine of pentacles

Your higher self is someone generous, both with their time and resources. You wouldn't hesitate to help those in need, whether they are inside or outside of your circle. You have a strong understanding of right and wrong, of justice. If you feel as though something is unjust, or a person isn't being treated correctly, you would not hesitate to step in and would do what you can to make things better.

Your higher self is someone who can get through any hardship or bump in your path, you are resilient, strong, and incredibly hardworking. If you want something, you would not hesitate to work for it, to achieve any dream or goal of yours. You are someone who doesn't just stay in the planning phase of a goal, you strive towards it without fear of change, without staying at a standstill.

You as a person are a great communicator too. You are strong, witty, clever and great at expressing your thoughts and feelings with clarity. There is no beating around the bush or holding back how you truly feel. There is an honesty about you that may be intimidating, but the words you share are always from a place of both good intentions and the truth itself.

Overall, the energy of your higher self is that of enjoying the fruits of your labour. You are someone who is humble - appreciating the things around you, as well as the work you put into getting where you are at now. You are strong, independent, hard-working, goal-oriented, and a great communicator who strives for justice and generosity.

pile 2 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

cards pulled: empress, ace of cups, eight of wands, two of wands, knight of cups, ten of cups, nine of wands, king of swords, six of cups

Your higher self can be described by the empress. You are someone nurturing, kind, and who embraces femininity regardless of gender. There is this calm and maturity to you, yet you are still strong with the ability to set clear boundaries. Just as your heart welcomes those around you, it also has a sense of respect for yourself. You are emotionally mature, and feel things on a deep level, sometimes in a way that your emotions overflow, which may be overwhelming at times due to that sensitivity, but it is a beautiful thing, and it is one that shows your level of empathy.

You are a person who is fast moving in the face of your future and goals. You are determined and fiery in that aspect of your life, unmoving from the path you laid out for yourself. Yet, you are just as romantic and idyllic, almost like that of a hopeless romantic, there may be times where you live in your head a lot (you could be an enfp, infp, infj or enfj). I'm not sure why, but there is a chance you may have a childlike nature to you somehow, maybe in the way you express yourself, see the world, or in the way in which you love.

Your higher self is also family-oriented, appreciating the close relationships, and could thrive in such an environment where you would truly feel content and experience a true feeling of abundance. You also come across as a protector for those in which you love, where you would go through a fiery forest to protect them, and that any challenge that presents itself to you would be overcome by that resilience.

Just like pile 1, you are a great communicator with the ability to clearly express both your thoughts and your feelings, to defend others and to stand up for yourself. You are just as intelligent, funny, and strong.

Overall, you are someone who has a sense of familiarity to you, you treasure friendships and really any relationship. You help those around you through either offering to listen to them, supporting them, and providing for them.

pile 3 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

cards pulled: five of cups, two of swords, seven of wands, star, ten of pentacles, three of wands, three of pentacles, queen of cups, high priestess

while I was doing this reading, I felt a bit of pain? Melancholy? But also a sweet and calming energy. It feels like you may have had certain difficulties or challenges in life? it may have been hard on you or painful. But your higher self is someone who chooses to overcome adversities, whether they lay root in your present reality, or in the outer reaches of your heart and mind. You have an inner optimism, a hopeful and positive outlook, and that alone would be enough to ignite a fire in you and drive you towards success, whatever that success might look like to you.

You are hardworking and strong, and I know that certain challenges in life may take the light away from us or make us retreat into a shell, but it did make you stronger, it did make you wiser, and it did make you understand what life truly is about. Your higher self would not indulge for too long in the negative aspects of such experiences, especially if they happened in the past - whether yesterday or a couple years ago - instead, they would look at the other cups that did not spill and realise that, maybe everything really is fine. It's all fine now.

You may pursue a career in teaching or psychology, but if not, you are someone who is wise, who can teach others through your experiences, knowledge and views on the world. You are a high achiever, constantly growing and learning, never satisfied with staying on the same step for too long. You know how to work well with others, how to get people to agree, and how to truly unite them.

As the queen of cups, you have a heart of gold, you are mature, especially emotionally, you are also warm and a true sweetheart. You may have a skill for offering advice and being someone others feel comfortable around (maybe that's why teacher and psychologist came through?). And, with the high priestess, you are deeply intuitive, with an air of mystery to you, there is something so deep and you may live in your head a lot too - a thoughtful person. You understand yourself, others, and the mystical. You may have a skill for tarot as well.

pile 4 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

cards pulled: six of pentacles, two of cups, knight of cups, five of swords, temperance, hierophant, three of swords, judgment, queen of cups

Your higher self is one who is generous and loving. You have so much love, appreciation, and your heart to give to others, you thrive from meaningful connections and helping/supporting people. You understand boundaries yet also steer clear of unnecessary conflict, putting your energy into more meaningful pursuits.

There is this balance and tradition to you. You seek harmony in relationships, balance in give and take, and you have this understanding of pain, loss and heartbreak, giving you true empathy and understanding in others and their emotions, paired with strong moral values.

You are someone capable of achieving great things, growing constantly, self-aware and knowing what your destiny is - what you're truly meant for. You don't let experiences hold you back from achieving greatness. From becoming the best version of yourself. It is like you are able to look at yourself inwardly and see through a critical eye what you need to work on, expand on, and keep.

Overall, your higher self can be explained by the queen of cups. You are nurturing, warm, compassionate, and a great listener and advice giver. You are someone others can feel comfortable around, to speak to without fear of judgment. There is such a strong, beautiful level of empathy within you. You understand yourself and others really really well, almost as though you are reading a book.