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l1tw1ck · 9 months ago

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dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕

- 🛸

No Longer a Mentor

Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆

After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship

🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3

CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie

Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.

He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.

After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.

“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.

“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”

“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.

“I probably haven't what?”

“Had sex…lately……”

You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”

“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”

You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”

You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”

Dean nods.

You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”

He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.

“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.

“Too big?”

“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.

“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”

“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.

You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”

Dean’s face gets redder.

“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”

He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.

“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”

Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.

“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”

He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”

“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”

Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.

You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.

“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.

“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.

Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”

You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.

Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.

“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.

“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”

You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.

He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.

“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.

Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”

Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”

Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.

“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #dean winchester x male reader #bottom dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #bottom male character

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wlwmedarda · 2 months ago

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I'm honestly just looking to rant and this might be long depending on how fast I get irritated the more I type so if this isn't coherent or well written I apologize in advance. Since it looks like Ambessa will take on a more antagonistic role in arcane season two, I would like to unpack the fandom's antiblackness that you guys are either blind to or aware and too pussy to call it out as my gut is telling me it's gonna increase and if no one is gonna start the difficult conversation then I sure as hell will.

Sevika:

Mel:

Starting off strong with the definition of "you guys want complex female characters but can't even handle her". Mel Medarda is in quite the predicament seeing how she's morally grey, a black woman, AND "gets in the way" of a mlm ship so she was kinda screwed from the start. A cunning politician disowned for her pacifism who acts as a sort of bridge to Noxus' slow introduction, and is THE ONLY CHARACTER IN THE SEASON 1 MAIN CAST SPECIFICALLY CREATED FOR THE SHOW. She's treated like satan incarnate or a Jezebel (highly suggest looking into that if you don't know what that is), GOOD character analysis is rare, and when she is talked about positively, it's so often chalked up to appearances that I'd rather yall not talk about her at all. Oh you love Mel? Then can we talk about her relationship with her mother? Unpack her dynamic with Jayce? Maybe more fanworks centered around her? I've seen yall's fake asses dropping the shittiest fucking takes about her only to turn around and gush over how pretty she is, and yall think you're slick about it and you're not. I would say I prefer the ones who are loud and proud about their hatred but that'd be a lie, they're two cheeks on the same ass; annoying and couldn't give a decent break down of her character if a gun was pointed at they head even she's perfect to dissect. I could talk about her more but we'd be here all day and so many black women even from outside the fanbase have already talked about yall so there's no need for me to add on 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️.

Quick question, have you guys ever tried to talk about her in a non sexual way? Yes, Sevika is undeniably sexy and you could argue that true stans of hers talk about her outside of horny time, but a good half of the fandom is a different story. In a similar case to Mel's, deep dives into her character are rare to find which is crazy when she acts as Zaun's own "kingmaker". She's loyal to her city and the cause, never to a specific person and will not hesitate to betray you. She could be your right hand man one day, and the next she might find a better kingpin to follow and stab you in the back like it all meant nothing. "Were you tempted?" "Not for a worm like him". Simple and subtle and probably my favorite Sevika scene; she comes to realize Silco is no longer the best leader for Zaun, but he's as good as it gets for now and so she sticks by him. I remember a YouTube comment breaking down how she's essentially the quintessential Zaun: a brute warrior molded by her environment, who defied Vander's peaceful ways and embraced Silco's cruelty. Her mindset and goal is interesting and you'd think it'd result in some fascinating meta or exploration of her upbringing when we got a hint that she potentially has some daddy issues right? Obviously, but what do we get instead? White sapphics treating her like nothing more than a sexual object. How delightful!

Ekko:

This might partially be Riot's fault because — and I hate to sound like a league lore nerd — Ekko is quite underdeveloped compared to the richer origins of his former pre arcane self, but I'm gonna hold off on that till the season finale to see how they handle him. Anyways, at this point the fandom clearly sees him as Jinx's trophy husband. When you talk about him, she is brought into the convo 90% of the time. That's exactly why I prefer black timebomb shippers over the nonblack ones because I trust they actually love Ekko as a character on his own. Even though I have my complaints regarding how's been written so far, I still know he's too good to be reduced to Jinx's loverboy. He fights and cares for his city, the only character that you can confidently say is pure of heart, and is the revolutionary leader Zaun really needs. He's just as smart as Jinx too, he is literally going to create TIME TRAVEL. Why does no one wanna talk about that? Can we be excited for his character development and arc not just for the timebomb scenes you'll get out of it?

Ambessa:

Can't even deny this woman is awful but her presence on screen enthralled me after a couple of rewatches and I also love bad mothers in media so I've settled on a love/hate relationship. Yes, she's definitely gonna have some influence on Caitlyn, which makes sense since she has now lost her mother; she's vulnerable and as we have seen, naive. She's practically free real estate for Ambessa. My recent worry though has been how the fandom seems to be willing to put all of Caitlyn's actions on her as if Cait isn't a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. Of course being grown doesn't mean you're immune to manipulation, but I've seen some Silco and Jinx comparisons and it is NOT the same. Mind you we haven't even seen the first three episodes; we don't know how far Ambessa's manipulation is going to go and we can't really tell what the dynamic is gonna be like based off of clips and trailers that are likely shown out of context on purpose to throw people off. I'll never defend her actions, hell I'll join in on the lashings, but my black ass is also not gonna sit here and let yall talk about her weirdly or pin all of this on her.

Some might say I'm overthinking this, but I've been here since November 2021 and have sat back and observed for 2 years. You don't have to write deep, philosophical conversations 24/7, I'm sure it's not all in bad faith and I won't act like I don't thirst over Sevika or marvel at Mel's beauty. I'm not saying you have to like these characters and that you're racist if you don't. My frustration comes from the lack of nuanced conversations and hypocritical opinions surrounding black characters in this show. When you try to say something about this, you're hit with excuses; it reminds me of how man obsessed fujoshis act when they're questioned for not giving two fucks about female characters. They're either reduced to one character trait, only admired for their looks, or only discussed when it's about the white character they're connected to. Do NOT under ANY circumstance be black and morally ambiguous, you WILL be held to higher moral standards than everyone's wittle blorbos who can do wrong and are defended from all sides when you dare to take the rose colored stan glasses off and criticize them. What's really ridiculous is you hear the "complex characters" bullshit every two to three business days and some of you have the nerve to boast about this series being diverse while simultaneously ignoring the complexities in the characters of color. This is the main reason I took a step back and with season two around the corner I thought "Hey, maybe it'll be better this time!" and it was a mistake. Good to know yall still have an underlying racism problem you don't wanna address but with some extra classism thrown in. "What will we do once Arcane ends?" hopefully get a job, touch some grass, and reflect. Lord knows yall need it. The faster yall sizzle out the better. I'm done that's all I have to say lol goodnight 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽.

#arcane #mel medarda #sevika #ekko #ambessa medarda #fandom critical

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lovemomhatepolice · 17 days ago

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max verstappen nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Max is very understanding after sex. He knows that many times you are very exhausted by your activities. He tries to give you as much warmth as he can and always listens to what you say to him so that each time is even better than the last. He really enjoys hugging you to himself and so does lying on top of you, knowing that you are next to him. B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) He likes his body and thinks he is appropriately athletic and tall. He has received many compliments in life because of this, so it has had a strong impact on his self-esteem. But he likes his arms best, especially after a workout, when his veins are strongly visible. In your case, he is a big fan of breasts. He loves to lie on them when he has a bad time. He loves to touch them when you make love. And he loves to look at them at every possible opportunity. C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Max isn't some cum fanatic, but he can't resist the sight of you nimbly swallowing whatever comes out of him after your perfect blowjob. Well normally he goes on his knees himself then (figuratively and not) D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) It may sound unprofessional, but when Max first saw you, he already knew exactly what he wanted your sex to look like. I know it sounds quite perverse - but you had exactly the same thing, and, to my horror, your visions were not at all different from each other E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Max is already 27 years old, of course he is experienced. I would not exaggerate to say that he is very experienced, but he is. He's had partners before you, with whom he's been with longer and shorter, so he's already experienced a lot - that's why he's skilled with his tongue or hitting the right spot every damn time F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Doggy. Max knows what he wants and he's good at it. Taking you from behind gives him a lot of confidence and ability, so this is the best position for you. Oh, he still loves the way your back arches and has the ability to pull you close to kiss you. And you love it, because in this position Max can give you the most pleasure, especially when he's angry and emotional, and this is the easiest way for him to caress you G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He is rather serious when you make love. Sex is not strictly physical for him, and he likes to give a lot of emotion to it, so he is not a fan of emotionless fucking. And as for being moody at such moments, yes, it happens to him, sometimes you laughed or joked, he's not against it, not one bit H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I think Max is cut down to nothing there. He doesn't look like someone who likes himself in a thicket of hair, so he's perfectly coiffed there. As for you, he would probably also prefer it to be either to zero or with some I don't know, maybe a stripe through the middle? I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He loves to whisper romantic words to you and tell you how good you are to him. He hasn't experienced much of this in his life, so he tries to be as warm to you as possible. And he loves taking you out for romantic dinners before that J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) This is a busy man. His stamina is not at all as high as it might seem, due to the fact that he is constantly living under stress and fighting for the championship. When you're not next to him and he doesn't have anyone to have sex with, he doesn't even think about masturbation, preferring to save it for the moment of your return, when you'll be next to each other and he can give it his all

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Max would like to be blindfooled. For once in his life, for it to be someone else who took control and he didn't know what was going on. Oh, until he shivers when he thinks about it. And then there's the realization that you would be the one making him feel good and guiding him to the end while he's blindfolded, how much he would give up for that…. L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Max is traditional. He's fed up enough with the media world and the hype surrounding his career that he most enjoys making love to you in bed, in your apartment. If it happens otherwise, of course, he doesn't complain, but he likes to be in your quiet surroundings.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Very often he feels like having sex before the race. That's when he gets tugged by higher emotions and is just overstimulated to the point that all he wants is to be in your arms. Or when you're wearing your skimpy pyjamas, oh god. Max purposely bought you more pairs of one and the same pyjamas, just to see you in them every day.

A/N: part two will be here soon! (If anyone wants me to tag them - let me know in the comments)

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

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imaginespazzi · 3 months ago

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Part 7: In All My Victories

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

Somebody said you got a new friend (But does she love you better than I can?)

(In which a writer in an EST timezone uses the PST timezone to announce that technically she's still meeting the deadline)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy

Words: 6.5K

TW: Swearing, Toxic Relationships

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Listen it's past midnight here but it's only around 9 pm in California which is where most of this fic is set so TECHNICALLY I am still meeting my deadline. This chapter is kind of a filler (and I guess that's why I don't love it) because it was gonna be about ~3K longer with another scene but it was either a longer chapter or a Monday chapter and I feel like y'all would prefer a Monday chapter. I have not edited this yet because I simply just don't have the energy to so pretty please point out my errors as you read so I can use them when I edit some time tomorrow. There's probably other stuff I need to say but I'm feeling oddly delirious right now so I'll just end with the usual. Let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Paige wakes up to a stream of sunlight tapping at her eyelids and someone’s soft breath tickling against her nose. She can feel a tiny hand pressed against her chest -right above her heart- and the weight of another person’s fingers intertwined against her own. The room is silent with the exception of the clock ticking on the wall and the perfectly harmonized breathing of the other people in the room. Stephie and Azzi. And Paige is scared to open her eyes, scared to move even an inch, scared that if she does either of those things, her dreamlike reality will prove to be nothing but a hopeless mirage.

It had taken Paige a moment last night to really register what was happening around her. Dazedly, she had followed Azzi up the stairs into the guest room. She’d watched, albeit unhelpfully, as Azzi had searched out extra pillows, setting up the queen-sized bed so it could fit three people instead of it’s regular duo. It hadn’t sunk in even as Paige had slowly gotten herself ready for bed, finding herself in one of Azzi’s old oversized t-shirts suddenly overwhelmed with how much she’d missed falling asleep embraced in the scent of the younger woman’s favorite lavender and eucalyptus deodorant. Even as she’d made her way back from the bathroom and found Stephie beaming at her from where she was curled into Azzi’s side on bed, Paige still felt like she was simply just watching everything from a facetime call, like she had been while back in Dallas. It wasn’t until Stephie’s bedtime story was finished and the lights were turned off, when Azzi’s hand finally captured hers underneath the comforter and squeezed gently, that it finally clicked for Paige.

Azzi had asked her to stay over.

Azzi had promised she wouldn’t run away.

And as Paige finally lets eyes flutter open, blinking to adjust to the light, she breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of a promise kept.

Propping herself onto her elbow, she lets herself take in the view of the two people still sound asleep next to her. Paige isn’t a morning person by any means -rarely is she the first person to wake up- but she thinks if this was what she could open her eyes to every time, getting up could become her favorite part of the day.

It’s uncanny how similar Azzi and Stephie are while sleeping. The little girl’s grip on Paige’s shirt is almost as strong as the tight hold her mother has on Paige’s hand. It’s like they’re trying to reel Paige into their world and keep her there forever, like even if she let go, they wouldn’t let her. There’s an air of contentedness on Azzi’s face as she snuggles closer to her daughter and Stephie has a soft smile at being cocooned in the protection of her mother’s arms. And Paige’s whole body aches a little bit because this bed they’re on is definitely not made for three people, but it’s nothing in comparison to the way her heart feels like it might burst from this feeling of and maybe this is how i become whole again.

She presses a kiss against Stephie’s forehead and rubs her thumb against the back of Azzi’s hand before carefully detaching herself from the duo and slipping out of bed. The whole house is still clearly asleep as Paige lethargically brushes and then begins to make her way down the stairs. Her eyes gloss over the pictures placed across the stairwell until they fixate on one that has her in it. It’s an image taken after one of many water fights they’d had at the Fudd household during a hot summer day. Life had been so simple back then when it was water and not bullets that they shot at each other.

Five drenched children are beaming at the camera. Jon and José are posed in some ridiculous stance, their water guns pointed at the camera. Paige, par for the course, is flexing, a far too cocky smirk dancing on her lips because she’d probably won the game (even if nobody else agreed). And then there’s Drew and Azzi. There’s a familiar pang in Paige’s chest as she brushes her fingers over her little brother’s exuberant smile. He’s latched onto the brunette’s back, a blue water balloon in his hand, as Azzi uses one hand on his hip to keep Drew in place and uses her other one to hold a pink water balloon of her own. The Fudds -Azzi- had been as big of a constant in Drew’s life as they had been in Paige’s and she wonders now, as she thinks back to her little brother’s irritation with her joining the Valkyries, if he’d ever forgive her and Azzi for taking that away from him.

“Oh hey good morning,” Tallulah says as Paige lets herself into the kitchen, blanching slightly at the sight of the other woman.

“Good morning,” Paige greets, pouring herself a glass of water as she takes a seat at the island, “guessing you’re making pancakes?”

Tallulah nods with a grin, “Stephie’s orders you know.”

“Ah of course,” Paige laughs, “can’t defy the queen.”

She watches as Tallulah prances around the hardwood floor, grabbing bowls and ingredients, like it’s her kitchen and Paige can’t help the twinge of envy that blooms in her bloodstream. It used to be her. She used to know the Fudd’s kitchen -the whole house- like the back of her hand because really, like Katie always said, it was her home too. But she doesn’t quite know this place, couldn’t tell you where to find the sugar or where the utensils were kept and that stings more than she’d expected. It spirals Paige into the thought that she wouldn’t know any of those things at Azzi’s own house either. And suddenly she’s struck by the reminder that two people who’d once promised to build a world together, had spent the last couple of years, building two separate ones instead.

“Hey,” Tallulah breaks Paige out of her trance, “you good.”

Paige musters up a smile, “yeah- yeah of course. Just- just thinking a lotta things I guess.”

“They’ve all missed you, you know,” Tallulah says softly, “they try not to do it too much around Azzi but it’s always ‘oh Paige would’ve loved this’ or ‘did you catch that bucket Paige made last night’. And whenever the Wings were playing here, it was a no-brainer that they would go.”

“Yeah?” tears prickle against the blonde’s waterline.

“Yeah,” Tallulah confirms, “Tim lowkey lost his mind before you got here last night. Poor man was running all over the place making sure things were good. Katie thought it was pretty hilarious.”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, “that sounds like them-”

“Miss Buecks,” a tiny voice interrupts her before she can say anything and Paige whirls around to see a teary-eyed Stephie looking at her from the last step of the staircase, her bottom lip trembling and panic courses into Paige’s bloodstream

“Stephie,” she practically trips over herself as she rushes to fold the little girl into her arms, “sweetheart what’s wrong?”

Stephie nestles herself into the blonde’s neck, mumbling something incoherent as she holds Paige impossibly tight.

“Stephie,” Paige whispers frantically, concern dripping from her voice, “tell Miss Buecks what’s wrong please. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me sweetheart.”

“Thought you left,” Stephie confesses finally, keeping her head burrowed against Paige’s shoulder, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up. Got scared.”

“Oh honey,” Paige whispers, as she gently coaxes the little girl’s head out from the crook of her neck so she can cup her face, “I’m right here. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Stephie’s quiet for a second, hiccoughing to herself as she searches for something on Paige’s face before she holds out a pinky, “promise you’ll never leave?”

Paige hesitates, the words sitting heavy on the tip of her tongue. It’s not that she doesn’t want to but Paige has learned first-hand about the fragility of the future, about how true the cliché about time changing in the blink of an eye can be. Because the truth is that it’s not just Azzi who’s scared. Paige is terrified. She’d drowned in this ocean once before and as she tries to swim in it again, she can’t quite find it in herself to shed her life-jacket by making an oath that she can’t guarantee to protect from the dangerous tides of circumstance.

And so she hopes it’s enough for Stephie as she caresses the little girl’s cheeks and says, “I promise I’ll try to stay.”

“Okay,” Stephie says softly and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, “I trust you Miss Buecks.”

Paige smiles, giving the little girl a kiss on the cheek before hoisting her up onto her lap, “did you wake your Mama up?”

“No. She’s still snoring,” Stephie giggles.

Paige laughs, tucking that little tidbit away to tease Azzi with later, “how about you and I go get your Mama her favorite coffee?”

“Oh that’s nice,” Tallulah chirps from where she’s still standing in the kitchen, “go get coffee of course. Why would anyone stay here and help me?”

“Go ask uncle José,” Stephie shoots the younger woman an unamused look, “isn’t that what husbands are for?”

Paige stifles a grin as Tallulah narrows her eyes, waving her whisk menacingly at Stephie, “he’s not my husband yet and you watch it missy or maybe I won’t let you be a flower girl at the wedding.”

“Your wedding would be boring without me,” Stephie scoffs, “besides Aunty Tully, we’ll get you a drink too. Uncle José always says you drink vod-ka, too much of it app-ently, but I don’t know what that is,” she turns to Paige who’s gone bright red in attempt to stop herself from keeling over with laughter, “can we get vod-ka for Aunty Tully?”

Paige tries her best to compose herself, “maybe we’ll just get her a latte and save the vodka for later huh Tulls?”

Tallulah glares at her, flipping her off when Stephie’s gaze shifts towards the door, “just go get the coffee Bueckers.”

***

Not that she didn’t know it before, but Paige quickly realizes just how similar Stephie is to her mother while they’re standing in front of the bakery portion of the coffeeshop and it’s been ten minutes and Stephie still hasn’t decided which sweet treat she’d like.

“Stephie sweetheart,” Paige says, only slightly impatient, “how about the double fudge brownie?”

“That sounds good,” Stephie says excitedly and then her eyes dart towards the cinnamon bun in the corner, “or maybe the ninnamon bun- no wait- Aunty Tully’s gonna put ninnamon in the pancakes so maybe something else. Ooooh maybe a cookie but which one?”

Paige groans to herself as Stephie busies herself looking at the assortment of freshly baked cookies. The old woman over the counter, wearing a name tag saying Ruthie, shares a commiserating smile with her.

“My daughter was like that too at that age. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life,” Ruthie says, a fond look in her eyes while talking about her child.

Paige smiles, “did she ever grow out of it?”

“Well considering we went out to dinner last night and she couldn’t pick between the pepperoni and the sausage, I don’t think they really grow out of it,” Ruthie winks and Paige can’t help but think about Azzi and the way she’d struggled to pick out what to wear to bed last night, staring helplessly between two shirts that practically looked the same.

“Oh I know that look,” Ruthie says, eyes twinkling at the hopeless smile on Paige’s face, as she tilts her head towards Stephie, “you’re thinking about her mother huh?”

“That obvious?” Paige blushes.

Ruthie shrugs, “what is love if it can’t be seen by everyone?”

Love. The word seeps into Paige’s veins, traveling up her bloodstreams until it claws its way into her heart, settling against her ribcage like a rock so that when she breathes, it’s all she can feel. It’s too soon, she knows, and it defeats the purpose of going slow except- it’s not soon at all. Because this isn’t a new feeling, it’s a far too familiar old one that she’d buried as deep within her as possible but is now yearning to get out. It had never gone away, simply lingered in the back of her mind just waiting for this moment. And if she’s honest with herself, Paige doesn’t know if she should fight against it or let herself ride the waves of the before that are desperate to crash against the shore of now.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines, “come help me choose.”

Shooting Ruthie an apologetic look and ignoring the pit in her stomach at the elder woman’s words, Paige walks over and bends down to the little girl’s height, “how about a chocolate chip cookie?”

“Boooooring,” Stephie crinkles her nose.

“Peanut butter?”

“I’m ‘lergic to nuts Miss Buecks,” Stephie says matter-of-factly and Paige pencils that important fact into her mind’s ever growing list of all about Stephie.

“Salted caramel crunch?”

“That sounds good,” Stephie nods, “yeah I’ll get that,” she says as she turns to Ruthie, “could I get a salted car-mel crunch cookie please?” but Paige doesn’t miss the wistful look she sends towards the rest of the cookies.

“Stephie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to get you one of each?”

And she’s absolutely going to get a disapproving glare from Azzi when she shows back up at the Fudd’s with almost a dozen cookies in hand but it’s worth it for the way Stephie immediately latches onto her thigh, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face.

“You’re best-est-est-est Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, staring up at Paige with delight.

“I know,” Paige smirks, “and you better protect me from your Mama when we get back.”

Stephie nods very seriously, “of course Miss Buecks. I’ll protect you with my life.”

Paige ruffles the younger girl's hair before turning to Ruthie who’s grinning at her, “one of every flavor of cookie you have please. Except anything that has nuts.”

“Coming right up,” Ruthie winks at Paige, “your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger huh?”

And maybe Paige should at least attempt to correct the misconception but as Stephie clings to her just a little bit tighter, she can’t find it in herself to say anything but, “yeah, yeah she does.”

***

“Next time you kidnap my daughter, can you at least send me a text?” Azzi says, a grin on her lips as she opens the door to let Paige and Stephie enter back into the Fudd household.

“Good morning Mama,” Stephie says happily, launching herself into her mother’s arms and placing a sloppy kiss against her cheek.

“Morning sunshine,” Azzi laughs, “you seem giddy this morning.”

“Miss Buecks bought me six-teen cookies and she let me eat two of them while we were dri-” Stephie pauses mid ramble, eyes widening as she dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth.

Paige groans as a glare overtakes Azzi’s previously smiling features, “Steph what happened to protecting me?”

“It was an aksy-dent Miss Buecks I’m sorry,” Stephie whimpers, hurriedly cupping her mother’s face, “please don’t be angry at Miss Buecks, Mama. It was my idea.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I bet it was. But if you already had two cookies, you must be full? I guess that means no pancakes for you-”

“Miss Buecks forced me to eat the cookies,” Stephie cuts her off and Paige gasps at the betrayal, “not full at all Mama because you can’t get full unless you like what you eat and I didn’t like those cookies at all. So I neeeeeeed pancakes.”

“Traitor,” Paige hisses at the little girl who shrugs sheepishly.

Stephie shoots her an apologetic smile as Azzi hides a grin against her daughter’s hair, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I really, really want pancakes. I’ll die if I don’t get pancakes.”

“Okay drama queen,” Azzi chides fondly as she puts Stephie back on the ground, “go get your pancakes,” and then she rounds onto Paige with a patented glare.

“I got you an iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,” Paige says before the younger woman can say anything, practically shoving the cold drink into her hand.

“Sixteen cookies? Paige seriously?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she sips at her coffee.

“You didn’t see her Az,” Paige defends, “she looked so sad when she couldn’t decide.”

“Just because she looks sad doesn’t mean you buy her every single cookie to make her happy,” Azzi shakes her head exasperatedly.

“I’d buy her the whole shop if that’s what would make her happy,” Paige says, sincerity weaved throughout every word of the sentence.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Azzi says softly, a hint of awe in her voice, “you’re kind of a sap Paige Bueckers.”

“Only for you and your daughter Azzi Fudd,” Paige whispers, leaning her head against the younger woman’s temple, “only for the two of you.”

They stand there like that, barely touching beyond their foreheads, yet basking in a certain kind of intimacy that they’ve only ever found with each other. The thing is, Paige’s senses are always heightened, every part of her always alert of what’s going around her. Except when she’s with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi she can let the noise fade to the background and let everything else become a blur and simply just be with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi, she doesn’t have to worry; doesn’t have to have her sword out ready for battle because she knows the younger girl will always be her shield. When she’s with Azzi, Paige is safe.

They’re shaken from their reverie by a cough in the background and Paige reluctantly looks over her shoulder to see Jana regarding them with an amused look.

“Guess I missed a couple of chapters?”

“Shut up,” Paige grinds out, annoyed as Azzi moves out of her space, “what are you doing here so early El-Alfy?”

“I’m here for breakfast because I’m basically an honorary Fudd,” Jana throws her head back before yelling, “RIGHT KATIE?’

“Right Jana,” comes the muffled confirmation from the kitchen as Jana smirks at Paige.

“The better question Bueckers,” the Egyptian prods with a smirk, “is what are you doing here so early?”

“I slept ov-” Paige bites her tongue but it’s too late as Jana’s grin gets wider and next to her, Azzi lets her head drop into her hands.

“You slept over? In which room?” Jana asks innocently.

And of course Stephie chooses exactly that moment to catch wind of the conversation, yelling from the kitchen, “she slept with me and Mama, Aunty J.”

“Thank you for telling me Stephie,” Jana’s eyes twinkle with mirth as she pulls out her phone, “oh I’m about to make some money- hey!”

Azzi snatches the phone out of her younger teammate’s hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips as she starts walking towards the kitchen, “no phones at breakfast thank you!”

“That’s not fair,” Jana whines sauntering after the GSV shooting guard, Paige snickering as she follows the two of them into the kitchen.

“Life’s not fair. Deal with it,” Azzi glares before slipping Jana’s phone into her own pocket, “you can have it back before you leave.”

“Y’all are so mean,” Jana sulks, pouting harder when she reaches out to grab a pancake and immediately has her hand whacked by Tim.

“That one’s for Paige,” the older man warns sternly and Paige sticks her tongue out at her teammate as she grabs the pancake onto her place.

“WHAT?” Jana guffaws, “what’s so special about it?”

Tim shrugs, “absolutely nothing. Just thought it would be funny to see you annoyed.”

“Y’all are the worst adoptive family a player could have you know that?” Jana scolds, pressing her fists to her cheeks like she’s barely older than Stephie, “and to think I was gonna invite the two of you,” she glares at Paige and Azzi, “to a party.”

“Party? Can I come?” Stephie asks excitedly.

“Unfortunately this one’s just for adults kiddo. And it’s not really a party,” Jana explains, “me and Joyce thought it would be nice to do a little team-bonding, especially for you P. Drinks at the bar next weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Paige confirms, “we’ll be there!”

“Oh it’s ‘we’ now is it?” Jana teases, “you guys gonna come together?”

“No,” Azzi says at the same time as a profound “yes” leaves Paige’s mouth. The two of them stare at each other with questioning looks and Paige feels a heavy pit settling in her stomach. Rationally, she knows Azzi’s probably right. No part of going slow includes going to a party with their teammates together, especially not when they’re trying to keep whatever it is they’re doing on the down low. But there’s something about being a secret again, that raises a bitter taste of what killed us then could kill us now in her mouth.

“Awkward,” Jon whistles slowly, only to be met with a simultaneous slap on the back of his head from both his mother and Tallulah.

“I mean- I would have to drop Stephie off here- or umm- at Colleen's so like- logically- practically- uh- it um- it wouldn’t make sense for us to go together,” Azzi says and Paige has to refrain herself from calling it a bullshit explanation.

Instead she gives the younger girl a tight-lipped nod, “right yeah-wouldn’t make sense for us to go together. Obviously,” gritting her teeth and desperate to change the topic, she turns to Jana, “will the whole team be there?”

“A couple of them aren’t currently in the Bay but yeah most of them,” Jana shrugs.

“Oh,” Stephie claps excitedly, “will Aunty Chérie be there? Is she back yet?”

Paige narrows her eyes as both Jana and Azzi exchange looks, “who’s Aunty Chérie?”

“Aunty Chérie’s the best,” Stephie gushes, “she’s really nice and pretty and she calls me ‘mon chérie’,” the little girl does her best attempt at a vaguely french accent and realization starts to claw at Paige’s mind, “so I call her Aunty Chérie. She’s Mama’s best friend on the team.”

Paige tries and fails not to grimace at the sentence; the idea of anyone else being Azzi’s best friend feels like nails being screwed into her skin.

“I’m your Mama’s best friend on the team,” Jana butts in, trying to rescue Azzi from the hole her daughter’s about to dig her into, glancing worriedly between the two former huskies who are doing their best not to look at each other.

“If you say so Aunty J,” Stephie concedes, “but you didn’t answer my question. Is Aunty Chérie back?”

“Yeah she- um Clémence I mean- is coming back for a little bit next week so um-” Jana swallows, clearly not having thought the uncomfortableness of the situation through, “yeah she’ll uh- she’ll probably be there.”

Stephie lets out a whoop of excitement and Paige feels it burn a hole in her stomach. She knows she has no right to be upset at the idea of Stephie being as enamored by another one of Azzi’s teammates but something about it makes her feel queasy inside. Because Clémence Martens isn’t just a teammate. Paige doesn’t know the exact history there; she’d never had the right to ask about it but she’s seen the way Clémence looks at Azzi and she knows she doesn’t like it one bit.

“I thought Clémence was being traded to Atlanta?” Paige keeps her voice low as she leans into Jana. She’s not sure if Stephie knows the news yet and despite the jealousy that’s blooming in every crevice of her body, she doesn’t want to hurt the little girl by accidentally announcing it to her, “why’s she coming?”

Jana sighs, “Joyce invited her cause she was gonna be in town. You know they don’t know about-” the taller woman gestures between Paige and Azzi, “-all of this so. It’s just for one night Paige.”

“Right,” Paige nods, eyes locking with Azzi’s across the table as the younger woman fidgets with the ‘S’ necklace around her neck and shoots Paige a timid attempt at a reassuring smile, “just one night.”

***

August 2028

USA 68 France 64

The entire arena is abuzz for the final 20 seconds of a grueling semi-final match between the storied USA Women’s Basketball team trying to keep their dynasty alive and a vindictive French team eager to avenge their last heartbreaking Olympic loss. France has possession of the ball, shot clock turned off, and Paige has been tasked with guarding Clémence Martens. The woman in front of her, a bench player for the Golden State Valkyries, had never seemed like much of a threat to Paige when they’d met during the W season, but seemed to have become a whole other beast when representing her nation. Clémence is currently leading the French team in assists and is only behind Gabby William in points. Paige keeps herself glued to the woman as she tries to get herself free for the inbound.

The inbounder realizes after a couple of seconds that the French coach’s advice to get Clémence the ball wouldn’t be possible and instead the ball ends up in the hands of Iliana Rupert instead. As gameplay resumes, Paige does exactly as she’s supposed to and she can tell that she’s getting under the French woman’s skin as Clémence curses to herself in her native language. Paige bites back a smirk, secretly pleased at having riled her competitor up. The ball continues to pass around the French players, time ticking away, but the USA’s defense doesn’t allow a good shot until Gabby throws up a miraculous jumper with a second left on the shot clock.

And of course, in a way that’s perhaps too reminiscent of how France had lost in 2024, it goes in.

But it’s not enough and Paige feels blood rush to her ears as the entire arena, decked out in red white and blue, roars with triumph, celebrating the world's greatest team returning back to the finals stage. There’s still one more game but this win is special. They’d been down by 11 points at the half and Paige could almost picture the headlines ready to write themselves about the streaks that could be broken if they lost. But she was no stranger to the pressure that came from playing for a team with a deep history and it had been her and Stewie, partially motivated by their former college head coach frowning at them from the sidelines, that had spear-headed a 23-3 run at the beginning of the 3rd quarter. The USA women’s team hadn’t looked back since and now they were one more step away being golden again.

“You did it,” Olivia screams, running into Paige’s arms as friends and family start to gather on the court, “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks Olivia-” Paige is about to say more when the familiar back of someone’s head catches her attention and, like they always seem to when she’s around, all the words die on the tip of her tongue.

Azzi.

Paige could’ve sworn she’d seen the woman in the crowd at some point but she’d chalked it up to a trick of the light manipulating her eyes into seeing what her heart desperately wanted. But as she watches the woman she’d once imagined celebrating all of her victories with, slowly brush away the tears of someone else’s loss, Paige can’t help but wish that it had been a trick of the light after all. She feels suffocated and she can’t tell if it’s from how tight Olivia’s holding her or if it’s because Clémence is burying her head into the space between Azzi’s neck and shoulder, a space that Paige used to mark as hers. And then Azzi looks above Clémence’s shoulder. Dark brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears as they lock onto watery sky blue ones. They’re standing in other people’s arms and they really should look away but how can they when looking into each other’s eyes feels a little bit like finally coming up for air. And Paige realizes that what she’s really being suffocated by is the regret of you’re supposed to be holding me and i’m supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us.

Azzi lets go of Clémence first, soothingly rubbing the francophone’s back as she makes her way over to congratulate the USA team, starting with Cam and Aliyah. Paige pulls away from Olivia, oblivious to the way annoyance flits across her wife’s features as she catches sight of Azzi. No one but the blonde notices how hesitant Azzi’s steps are, how she carefully pauses a little longer than necessary with everyone else until she finally reaches Paige, managing to give her a small but sincere smile. Olivia wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep and the blonde fights the urge to shake it off when she notices Azzi’s eyes flickering to it for a brief second before coming back up to her face.

“Congratulations Paige,” the formality in Azzi’s voice feels like acid pelting against Paige’s skin, “you were really good tonight.”

“Thank you,” Paige smiles politely, “it was pretty stressful there for a second but I’m glad we got the dub. But it um-” she hesitates, unsure if she should say the next part, “it would’ve been nice if you were out there with me- with us I mean. We could’ve used your shooting.”

“Maybe next time,” Azzi gives her a half-grin.

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Olivia says airily, sharp nails digging a little too roughly into Paige’s skin as her grip tightens further, “there’s plenty of talent up and coming in the next 4 years.”

This is a side of Olivia that Paige is only just beginning to unveil, the side of Olivia that makes snide bitchy comments with a saccharine voice. And Paige really should let it go at this moment, make a mental note to speak with her wife about it later instead of jumping in. But she can see the insecurities brimming in Azzi’s eyes and the words tumble out before Paige can stop them.

“Yeah but no one better than Azzi.”

Olivia stiffens, “right unless she’s injured or pregnant or something. You’re prone to those right?”

“Olivia,” Paige hisses.

“I didn’t mean it offensively,” Olivia feigns innocence and a bitter mix of irritation and anger coils itself around Paige’s ribcage, “just something to think about.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before a sugary smile, laced with poison, inches itself onto her face, “I’ve only been pregnant once and I haven’t been injured since college which I would expect someone in sports media to know but,” the brunette’s eyes flash dangerously, “I suppose that’s something someone with national media credentials would know, not just a mere local beat writer for Dallas’s fifth most read newspaper,” Azzi turns to Paige, sarcasm morphing into something far more genuine, “congratulations again. I’m really happy for you Paige.”

***

The Reynolds-Bueckers hotel room is a pathetic hot mess that night. Olivia’s livid at Paige and Paige is livid at the stupid #Clézzi tag on tiktok. She’s no stranger to fan edits and she’s definitely no stranger to ship edits and so when the first tiktok appears on her for you page, she knows better than to click on it. She knows better but she does it anyway. And suddenly she finds herself sucked into montage after montage of so-called moments between Clémence and Azzi that fans had noticed and documented. The clips are bad enough themselves but it’s the captions, bold declarations of look at the way she looks at her; no one can love azzi the way clémence loves her, that really piss her off. Clémence might look at Azzi like she’s made of stars but Paige knows that she looks at Azzi like she is the moon, Paige’s moon. As Olivia’s anger bounces off the walls, her rant about disrespect starts to mesh with the audio of the edits that continue to play on the blonde’s phone and Paige wonders if this her God-designed personal hell.

“Are you even fucking listening to me Paige?” Olivia yells, forcing Paige to look up at her wife.

“What do you want me to say Olivia?” Paige asks tiredly.

“What do I want you to say? Well nothing now Paige. She said all of that shit to me and you were silent then so I’m not expecting you to say anything of meaning now either.”

“You’re the one who poked her first-”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Olivia laughs maniacally, “you’re really gonna do this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige protests.

“You’re defending her,” Olivia yells, “you’re my wife and you’re defending her. You’re defending your ex. Can you seriously not see what’s wrong with this picture.”

“Olivia,” Paige sighs, eyes gazing down at her phone where another fuckass Clézzi edit has started to play and she rapidly scrolls past it, “it’s been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. I have practice tomorrow and the gold medal game-”

“Right fucking basketball. Again,” Olivia rolls her eyes.

“What-”

“It’s fine,” Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose, the fight draining from her voice, “you’re right go to bed. I’m not- I’m not feeling great so I’ll sleep out here tonight. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want you to get sick before the gold medal game.”

“Olivia,” Paige says half-heartedly, taking a timid step towards the woman in front of her.

“It’s fine,” Olivia says, “just- just go to bed Paige.”

Paige knows that the last thing she should do is actually listen to her wife. And she knows that if it was Azzi -she hates herself for even thinking this way- she wouldn’t walk away. If it was Azzi, Paige would’ve pulled her into her arms, held her there and made her talk because they both hated going to bed angry. But well if it was Azzi, this whole situation wouldn’t exist in the first place.

And so she ends up in bed alone, still scrolling through random tiktoks in an effort to not have to deal with all the voices in her head, until suddenly she stumbles on a video captioned and at the end of the day she’ll still always be looking at her. It’s a video taken today. Paige is holding Olivia and Azzi’s holding Clémence but they’re staring at each other. And Paige thinks that whoever wrote the caption, had probably gotten it right. At the end of day, she’ll always look for Azzi. She just doesn’t know if she’ll find her ever again.

***

USA 102 Australia 73

Paige can already taste the feeling of a gold medal around her neck as she takes a seat, the crowd roaring with applause as Coach Lawson empties her bench. There’s only fifteen seconds left in the game and her knees are bouncing in anticipation, ready to celebrate a moment she’s been dreaming of for god knows how long. Paige scans the crowd, not even pretending to look for anyone but Azzi and she can’t help the smile that erupts on her face when she spots the brunette with her fingers crossed, a brilliant grin directed in Paige’s direction as she mouths i’m so proud of you.

Olivia isn’t here, claiming she was too sick to come tonight. Paige thinks she probably should be more upset about that. She thinks the whole thing is probably a ruse that Olivia had concocted to get Paige to beg her to come, to get Paige to show her that she wanted her wife there. The other woman's face had fallen when Paige hadn’t really reacted to the announcement, simply pressed her lips to her forehead and mumbled a feeble hope you feel better before leaving. Paige thinks this is probably the first sign they're falling apart. She thinks she should probably care about that a little bit more too.

But the first thing her eyes had landed on once she’d entered the court, was Azzi’s face in the lower bowl and everything else had ceased to exist. Her first petty thought had been a ha! fuck you to the damned Clézzi shippers who claimed Azzi wouldn’t show up today, too busy consoling Clémence. They didn't know Azzi was all-american. Her second thought, the one that felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around her soul, was that of course Azzi’s here. Because Azzi had been there every time Paige achieved a milestone and even if they were barely a shadow of what they used to be, it's only right that Azzi is still here.

Australia doesn’t even bother taking a shot, bowing out gracefully and the buzzer rings.

The entire arena bursts into confetti and music as the USA Women’s Basketball Team clinches yet another Olympic Gold Medal.

Paige doesn’t know who she’s hugging, lost in a sea of red uniforms as she feels herself floating through her teammates. They end up in a huddle, screaming and she can barely make out who’s saying what but it doesn’t matter. The chaos has never felt so fucking cathartic.

As everyone else disperses to find their families, Paige’s eyes land where they always seem to: on Azzi. And maybe she shouldn’t do it, maybe she should think again but fuck it Paige Bueckers is an olympic gold medalist and she’s going to share this moment with the first person she’d ever won a medal for this country with. Her legs move of their own accord, walking and then running and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she realizes that Azzi’s moving towards her too.

“You did it. Oh my god Paige you did it,” Azzi squeals as they crash into each other in the middle of the court, her arms instinctively going around Paige’s neck as the blonds wraps her hands around Azzi’s waist, “I’m so fucking proud of you. I knew you could do it Paige.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Paige breathes out, “I just- it wouldn’t be the same winning without you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften, “I came for you. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that but- I’m here for you.”

“Good don't want you to be here for anybody else,” Paige tightens her hold on the younger woman’s waist, “we’re gonna do it together next time okay. You and me, we’re gonna be golden together.”

And they both know that they’re saying words they shouldn’t say. That when they break apart from this moment, they’ll have to walk away. But for now, being in each other’s arms is the only thing that feels right, that feels golden.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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shares-a-vest · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie reaches for Steve's fruity-scented shampoo - the stuff he swears he hasn't been using each and every time he stays over. He pops the cap and then the lights go out.

He screams bloody murder and drops the shampoo bottle. He kicks it and presses his palms against the nearest surfaces. One on the tiled wall, the other on the glass as he does everything to stop himself from moving his feet because, if he trips on that fucking fruity shampoo that makes Steve's hair oh-so-silky, he'll go slipping and sliding straight through the glass and into the goddamn toilet.

And he cannot die like that, buck-naked as the day he was born.

Though, if he absolutely had to die in the nude, he'd want it to be while he's railing someone six ways from Sunday...

Preferably the hunk who is bursting in through the bathroom door and waving a flashlight right in his eyes.

Steve opens the shower and reaches in to shut off the water. Eddie palms around and grips his boyfriend's wrist, impossibly warm despite now being wet.

"Are you... uh..." Steve drops the light enough from him to stop spluttering about. Eddie blinks hard, regaining enough focus to find a sly smile tugging at the corner of Steve's lips as he attempts to be serious, "Um, are you okay?"

Alright, maybe falling head-first into the toilet would have been a little less embarrassing than this: Steve staring back at him and snickering. He cups his junk and grumbles.

"Towel?" he spits, holding out one hand.

"Sorry," Steve says as he hands the brown (seriously, why do the Harrington's enjoy brown so much) towel over, "It's just you looked like you were in the middle of some naked jumping-jacks."

"Stevie, I was terrified," he retorts, drying off his arms and hands first so he can get a better grip on anything so he can safely get out of the damn shower before it becomes a fogged-up glass tomb.

But Steve places the flashlight tight under one arm and spots him, hovering one hand and placing the other on his dripping wet hip.

"I know," he soothes, now completely serious, "I was scared too."

Eddie doesn't care that he is mostly wet and that his hair is completely soaked, he goes right into Steve's strong arms, feeling his navy-blue sweater quickly dampen between them. Steve maneuvers around to stop their bodies from completely blocking their light source and hugs him tight.

"So stupid," Eddie can't help but mutter, "How am I more scared of the fucking dark than I was when I was six? Besides, how do you even lose power out here in Richie Richville?"

"Well, considering this house is surrounded by trees," Steve shrugs, "We lose power quite easily in bad weather," he pulls back enough to give a dangerously-teasing smirk considering Eddie's state of undress, "Thought you'd enjoy some candles and what-not, anyway. Doesn't Bilbo Baggins scurry around his cottage with a candlestick?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to move away as he hurriedly wraps the towel around himself - to protect his modesty. Yeah... that.

"Excuse me?" he exclaims, "He lives in a Hobbit hole, for one. And I'll have you know his home is well-lit."

"Come on!" Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes and taking his hand.

He leads them back into his bedroom, which at least has some moonlight peaking in from the windows. And yeah, now Eddie can really hear the source of the power outage. The wind outside and the trees that shroud Loch Nora sound like a goddamn tornado.

"Though I think Rivendell surely must have had some sort of electricity," he wonders aloud as he attempts to focus on something else.

"We can debate the infrastructure of Middle Earth later," Steve chuckles and promptly shoves a pair of sweatpants into his hands.

Eddie steps forward, smiling bashfully.

"You mean it?" he coos, biting the 't'.

Steve's eyes flick to his lips as he bites his own, "I can think of a few things we could do that don't involve the power being on."

Eddie opens his mouth, readying himself for a lame line about their palpable electricity that will probably make Steve laugh when the damn radio crackles.

If a physical object could be a boner-killer, it's the damn radio Steve currently has attached to his hip.

"Steeeve is the power out at your house, overrr!" Dustin screeches the moment Steve fishes it from his back pocket.

"Yes, over," Steve answers. He holds a finger up, silently asking Eddie to wait as they make no attempt to move an inch from each other's personal space, "I'mfine-okaygoodbye!"

He clicks the radio off completely and tosses it on his dresser, paying no mind to the fact it sends his Little League trophy toppling onto the carpet.

#ironically i drafted half of this last night when i thought the power was going to go off bc of the weather #but then ONLY the internet went off 💀💀💀#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #lilys ficlets

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scr11bles · 1 month ago

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uhhhh who wants simon ghost riley normal/relationship headcanons? anyone???

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✧ i think that: ghost has the softest hands known to man kind. he gets self conscious about it because he’s been a soldier for years and wishes his hands were more roughed up and reflected his gritty persona and job (i want his hands to be calloused too but c'mon and imagine soft handed simon…)

✧ i think that: ghost is sensitive to fragrant smells. ex: flowers or specific expensive perfumes, it just gives him a huge headache and makes his mood sour (he’s deathly allergic to pollen, not dust though).

✧ i think that: his ribs are sensitive (obviously iykyk) so he tends to guard them more whenever sparring or out in the field (like keeping his arms tucked close to his sides). but he lets you touch them lovingly after gaining his trust, just remember to be gentle, yeah?

✧ i think that: ghost runs extremely cold or hot, there’s no in between. if you're lounging with him, you'll either be practically one with him or on the opposite end of the furniture.

✧ i think that: he probably gets migraines a lot. with all the gunfire and flashing lights of his profession, he's prone to the horrible ache in his skulls we all know and hate. show up with some medicine and tea for him and he's smitten.

✧ i think that: he sleeps with the thinnest blanket ever and doesn’t have a duvet on his bed (he thinks it’s too soft of a luxury for him).

✧ i think that: this man can and will fall asleep anywhere and at any time to make up for the lack of it he gets. back from a rough op? nap for a couple minutes. on the heli to a new base? he says he's just resting his eyes, but everyone knows he fell asleep for real.

✧ i think that: ghost prefers sour and salty foods and doesn't have the biggest sweet tooth (as much as i want him to). though, he does like dark chocolate and gets mad when you say that doesn't really count. he can handle SOME spice but avoids it if optional.

✧ i think that: ghost's favorite animal has to be a wolf (stereotypical much?), snake, or another kind of lizard. maybe something like a kimodo dragon? if you take him to the zoo he beelines for the reptile and fish exhibits. aquarium date anyone?

✧ i think that: he hates when people mock his accent, he can't help it so whats the problem? maybe hate is a strong word but he definitely doesn't care for it. if you're close to him relationship wise he'll just scoff and pretend to be annoyed, but the accent on you does sound cute....

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omg whats up guys... its been a sec im sorry college is a bitch and a half. uhh im slowly getting back into cod after a few other phases have died down. if you liked this check out my menu to request a short fic! thank you!!!! - emile :3

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #headcanon

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larcenywrites · 3 months ago

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Hey, I saw that you were taking requests for Kurt, and I have an idea that I would like you to write please. Can you do a Nightcarwler X Reader story where Kurt had a bad day from an unfavorable encounter from earlier that day from an anti-mutant crowd, which called him a monster and demon and other bad things, despite him just wanting to help people. Kurt is now feeling a bit depressed and insecure about his unique appearance. The reader helps reassure him that he’s beautiful and comforts him, and their bonding eventually escalates to NSFW stuff. I would prefer the reader to be of the male sex, but ultimately the reader can be whatever sex you decide. Thank you so much for your time 😊

(I’m sorry this isn’t funny-)

So sorry it took so long D: but I hope this is okay :)

What It Means To Be Human

Nightcrawler x M!Reader

Warnings: male reader but no pronouns used | unprotected because I’m always a slut | do I even have to say a little tail action?? It’s nightcrawler 😏 | some light oral | “somehow” I got into my tongue and spit kink a lil tiny bit sorry | porn with plot but at least the plot is loving on Kurt 😚

Word count: ~2,100

It was hardly late afternoon, and already the day had gone to shit. For a handful of people, that is, but unfortunately, that handful included your people and, more importantly, your person. Rogue had already told you about the angry mom of humans. The usual, as she'd typically describe it. But you knew that for Kurt, "the usual" was a little more serious than the term made it sound and a whole lot more familiar— Personal, even.

You quickly made your way to your bedroom, immediately noticing the lump beneath the sheets. You climbed into your side of the bed, lifting the covers to reveal the furball underneath. "You're in bed early," you comment softly, trying to keep a lighthearted edge to your tone. He didn't respond, but after a few moments of playing dead, he finally shifted, sifting up next to you and crossing his legs. Downcast golden orbs studied the sheets.

"You okay?" You ask softly, already knowing the answer. In his silence, you study his bare chest and low-waisted pajama pants, clearly drained from his earlier encounter.

"Yeah," Kurt eventually mumbles back. He turns to look at you, tired eyes studying yours, picking up that you already know. "It shouldn't bother me anymore," he deflects, looking down again.

With a sigh, you lean against him, not taking your eyes off him. "It's okay for it to bother you," you reason, leaning against him to be shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip. "You don't have to be strong all the time," you continue. "You've had to deal with their name-calling for way too long."

"The name-calling I can handle," he quickly replies. "It's being considered less than human that gets under my skin," he remarks, tail thrashing behind him and resting around you. It was tempting to just tell him it didn't matter what they thought, but for someone like him, it unfortunately does matter. He's had to spend his whole life proving it just to continue helping the very people who ostracize him.

Wanting to take away from the somberness for a moment, you suddenly push a finger between his lips to press at a fang, making him open his mouth a little. "What, you're telling me these things aren't human?" You tease lightly, watching him shrug away.

"Those are probably the most human thing about me," he retorts, clearly trying not to smile as he looks down.

"Then maybe that's why they're not my most favorite thing about you," you tease back, making him snort softly. You study him quietly for a few moments before speaking again. "You know, if they gave you a chance, they would find that you are the most human of us all," you add on much more seriously, resting on his shoulder and watching his reaction.

"That's the issue," he replies somberly, resting his cheek against your head. "I don't think any of us are going to get the chance to prove that."

The statement hangs in the air for several moments. They would never understand what he's done to be like them, nor what he's been through to be just himself, and each time getting the same treatment.

"They know not what they do," he repeats a verse that has left his lips plenty of times, fingers rising to fumble with the silver cross that hangs from the chain around his neck. "That doesn't make it hurt less," he confesses.

With a heavy sigh, you lift your head again to look at him properly. "Everything that you are now is because you don't look human," you state bluntly but lovingly, bringing a hand to his cheek and tilting his face towards you. "And is exactly why you're beautiful," you add tenderly, making him look down shyly.

"I know what I am, liebe," he replies quietly, almost defeatedly, leaning into your touch with a soft sigh. "And what I am not," he continues with conviction, a hint of a double meaning behind his words and a gleam of determination in his solid yellow eyes when they glance back up at you.

You smile softly at him, rubbing your thumb over the fur of his cheek before tracing over his lips. He may, in fact, look like a devil, but he was a handsome devil— your handsome devil.

"I don't know," you start. "They might've been right about one thing…" you insinuate, a hint of suggestiveness in your tone and a mischief in your eyes that he knows well.

"Oh, the 'handsome devil' line again; how clever," he mutters sarcastically before you can even continue, glaring at you with a badly hidden grin.

"Oh, you like it," you retort as you lean into him with a mocking pout.

"I do," Kurt's low chuckle breathes against your lips after happily leaning in with you, the grin he'd been trying to hide now on full display. The soft fur on his face tickled your cheeks and nose as you connected in a kiss. Something short but sweet, loving but innocent. Just the human connection he probably needed after today.

With lips brushing and noses bumping, both of you simply rested against one another for a moment, letting him enjoy some peace of humanity with a soft sigh. You could practically feel his sly grin as he pressed a deeper kiss to your lips, his tail unfurling from your arm to curl over your leg. With your own knowing grin, you eagerly kissed back, playing with the broad tip of his tail.

Kurt teasingly bites into your bottom lip, dragging it with him when he pulls away just enough to let you see the mischievous gleam in his golden eyes and smirking fangs, challenging you to bite back. Shifting yourself to your knees, you plant a hand in the soft fluff of his chest while simultaneously diving into his neck. This time, you sink your teeth into him, still not entirely used to the feeling of fur against your tongue, nor his slinking tail around your thigh.

Lulling his head to the side to give you more room to ravish his throat, his tail tightens around your thigh in excitement, and hands find their way under your shirt, squeezing your sides with similar enthusiasm before wrapping his arms around you instead. His tighter embrace convinces you to fall with him. Right where he wanted you.

Despite his lithe form, Kurt easily rolls you both, switching positions to have you underneath instead. With his arms still hooked around your lower back, it was also his turn to sink his teeth into the crook of your neck, fangs pricking at your skin. You hum lowly and wrap your arms around his back, trailing over the velvety feel of his fur and playing with the longer curls on the back of his neck.

Without warning, he ground into you, making you hiss from the sudden friction. The sound spurred him on, deeply rolling his hips into yours in search of more. The rough fabric of your jeans was both frustrating and delicious, creating just enough tension to have you both twitching and humming in pleasure, but leaving far too much distance between your aching cocks. Yet, you continued, feeling Kurt's hot breath panting over your ear.

The strong hands on your back gripped onto your waist, sliding over your ticklish skin and riding your shirt up with them. He barely lifted himself, letting you take his cue to undress, hardly throwing your shirt to the side before that fluffy chest pressed against yours again. Lips passionately pressed against yours, with tongue tracing your lip and a hand sneaking down to the button of your pants.

You parted your lips only for him to pull away, sitting up to properly straddle you. Your hips twitch towards him in anticipation as he unfastens your jeans with a familiar precision. It's not long before you've both managed to shimmy the rest of your clothes onto the floor.

Now nude beneath him, Kurt eagerly flattens his tongue against your tip, fangs barely peaking from beneath his lips. At your low moan, he continues down your length, purposefully leaving behind a messy trail of saliva and licking back up to gently suck the head of your cock. He's just as sloppy, making sure to coat your length in his dripping spit and using his tongue to spread it.

You can't help but bury your hand into the soft blue and indigo hues of his hair with a soft groan, threading your fingers through his curls. Barely lifting his head enough to make your hand fall to his cheek instead, Kurt gives your palm the same treatment, licking over your skin with an obvious intent in his eyes, simultaneously hooking a thumb beneath the waistband of his pajama pants and awkwardly tugging them off. But there wasn't much time to mull over his graceless maneuver when his own hard length springs out.

As he straddles your waist again, you eagerly take his cock into your wettened hand, digging your other into the thicker fur on his thighs. His moans are soft, like the rest of him, letting you slowly jerk him off while he struggled to align himself with twitching hips. Peach fuzz tickles your thigh as that not-so-sneaky tail sneaks around your leg and tightens on cue with its owner as he sinks onto you. Your own hips thrust up to try and meet him, making the cock in your hand jump.

Kurt moans through bared fangs, caught between the feeling of your gentle touch circling under his leaky tip and heavier pressure filling him, involuntarily rolling his hips even while trying to adjust. The movement, or the lack thereof, left you just as tense and twitching inside him. Panting in frustration, you moved your hand along his shaft again, hoping to spur him on.

With another roll of his hips, he couldn't stop himself from practically grinding on you, lips parting as his gaze is drawn to where your hand pleasures him. He licks his lips at the sight, only moments later letting saliva drip from his mouth and into the base of his dick, making you curse under your breath as you spread it over his sensitive flesh.

Kurt plants his hands on either side of you, back arched and hips finally lifting. You both groan softly, slowly moving against one another. Your nails dig into his thigh and your hand on his cock struggles to match the slow pace. Desperate to chase after the feeling, it's not long before he speeds up, bouncing higher each time.

The long chain that hung from his neck dangled wildly with his movements, a hand coming to your lower tummy to steady himself a little and to brush his fingers over your skin. Lying your head back with a groan aimed at the ceiling, you peered down at him through your lashes, his parted lips panting and the thick curls that hung over his forehead softly bouncing each time his hips reconnected with yours.

The closer you got, the harder it became to keep a steady pace stroking him. With a whimperish moan, he shoos you away, taking his aching cock in his hands, movements desperate as he jerks himself off. You take the other furry thigh in your hand, holding onto him and watching closely. Kurt tenses around you and stops abruptly, working at his blush-red tip and obviously close. Just as desperate for more friction, you thrust up to meet his stilled form, making him moan loudly.

Keeping his hips in your grasp while you fucked into him, it didn't take much longer before he lurched forward, movements slowing as he finally came, dripping onto your stomach with a panted sigh that showed off his fangs. The sight had your own movements faltering, sporadically rolling your tensing hips against him as you released yourself inside him.

Kurt releases himself as you both still, hunched over you and squirming. You're both panting, your hands playing with his fur and his thumbs barely brushing at your sides. The constricting tail around your leg finally unravels itself as he lifts himself from you, falling into your side with his fuzzy cheek on your shoulder and knees drawn up against you. You quickly reached over to the nightstand for a few tissues, taking care of the pool of cum on your stomach.

With his tail curling over your waist once you settled again, he cuddles into you, kissing at your shoulder before turning to meet your lips. Entwined with you in the sunlit room, maybe this was all it took to be human. Something he didn't have to share, something he didn't have to prove. Somewhere where he didn't need to be anything other than loved.

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redxx95 · 5 months ago

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Exploring Kurosawa's internalized homophobia and compulsive heteronormativity

oh yea baby we bustin out the Big Words for this one 😎

This was supposed to be posted at the end of pride month but Life happened and it got delayed a lot 😩 So yea happy pride month (and happy birthday Kurosawa I guess 😂)

(btw I think I've never mentioned this on any of my other posts but english is not my first language, so if anything I write ever sounds awkward, that's probably why 😅) (also I had to merge a bunch of images to get around the image limit, this post is really long, the word count is at 1930 words 💀)

Hope you guys enjoy the read! 💞

Spoilers for anything up to vol 11

Let me start this by saying that there's no actual textual evidence of Kurosawa being gay (rather than bi/pan), so this interpretation is definitely veering towards headcanon territory. I'm also not trying to establish this as the only Correct opinion and anyone is of course allowed to have their own sexuality headcanons, this is very healthy and valid 👍

Kurosawa's internalized homophobia

The first scene I want to put under a magnifying glass is this one.

Let's examine what's going on here: Kurosawa has just tried to kiss Adachi, whose hesitation he perceived as disgust. Then he pretends it was disgusting for him too, because he thinks that is the average reaction anyone would have, extending this to Adachi as well. The way he says "who'd be into that?" is already lowkey homophobic, but the japanese line makes it even more evident: "普通嫌だよな" (= "Normally, you'd dislike that right?"). Keyword here being "普通" = "normal, ordinary", implying that anyone who would like that is abnormal. So what does that say about him then, who was so happy to get the chance to kiss another man? This is pretty much textbook internalized homophobia, where he has accepted what he perceives to be the general opinion on gay people and has made those values his own, hating himself for it (albeit only briefly here), which is why he internally apologizes to Adachi.

This is not the only instance of him feeling like that, although this next part is slightly more speculative than the more obvious example above.

So we all know that Kurosawa is a jealous, jealous man. It's one of his defining character traits and it's often the source of conflict and comedy alike. But he does not express his jealousy equally across genders. With men he has this strong rivalry where he needs to prove himself better and more worthy of Adachi's attention.

But with women he has a different approach: gently coaxing them away from him, lest they realize what a catch Adachi really is.

So, why this difference? The answer I have is that he doesn't actually believe he can compete with a woman. If Adachi wants to be close with a man, Kurosawa thinks it might as well be him, he's the best option after all. But if Adachi wants a woman, he cannot offer anything and is therefore the inferior option. He believes this even after he found out Adachi's not completely repulsed at the idea of being with a man. Even if Adachi's okay with men, he'll always prefer a woman.

And whenever he imagines anyone else with Adachi, it's always a woman, specifically Fujisaki, which he believes is "his type".

And he at least thinks he's very far away from that ideal. (He's not but that's a topic for a different essay.) If anyone's wondering why he even bothers at all then if he's so sure that a woman will out-compete him, I think the lyrics from the anime opening actually put it best, specifically the last verse:

I have these impatient feelings I doubt this love will come to fruition But still I can't give up this happiness There's a feeling here I can't resist A love like a castle in the sky

So basically, his plan is that he might as well ride the high of his first ever crush as far as it will go, intercepting where he can to prolong it just that little bit further, until it all inevitably comes to an end. (a castle in the sky = an unreachable dream) This plan kind of fluctuates throughout volumes 1-3 as Adachi gives him a bunch of mixed signals, but it holds true most of the time.

Adachi's side

Now I'd like to highlight the way Adachi actually thinks about their relationship, because it serves as a great contrast to Kurosawa's assumptions about him.

Throughout the first three volumes we see him grapple with his newfound feelings for Kurosawa, but he (almost) never puts his gender at the forefront of his musings. The manga makes it very clear that it's his lack of romantic experience and low self esteem that make it hard for him to accept Kurosawa's affections, and not the fact that he's a man.

This second page here being his own little gay awakening, where he realizes that he is not, in fact, disgusted by intimacy with a man.

It's also worth mentioning that when he later introduces Kurosawa to his parents (ch 41), they are immediately welcoming of him, suggesting he grew up in a very tolerant environment.

And it's not like he's completely unaware of heteronormativity/homophobia either, especially after he does his research in vol 8, but he is slightly more defiant in responding to it.

(I love how he just buys that bag he probably doesn't need that's supposed to come with all the wedding magazines, just as this very tiny act of rebellion.)

So now that we can see how different Kurosawa's thought patterns are compared to Adachi's, the next question we should ask ourselves is: Why is he like that?

Heteronormativity in Kurosawa's life

(yes we're finally getting to the comphet part of the essay 😂)

First let's look at the environment he grew up in. There are not many scenes with his family, but from those that we do have, we can at least make some assumptions about how he must've been raised.

His mother is clearly the authority figure in his life, judging by how she's described as "strong" and how terrified he is at her merely setting down a teacup (while Adachi has a more mild reaction). Her reaction to the news of them dating and Kurosawa expecting his parents to go as far as disowning him for it would suggest that she might just be generally homophobic.

But when they actually go meet her we see this slightly more nuanced perspective.

She's not entirely against it, but she does believe they are making a mistake by choosing to be together, hence why she thinks they might "regret it". There's many hardships that gay couples in Japan face, some of which we even see discussed in the manga, so it's not hard to see why she would be concerned for her son. The way she talks about Kurosawa never causing any problems, but "changing" ever since he fell for Adachi further supports that conformity is what she believes will ultimately lead to a successful, happy life. And that's also why she accepts Adachi later, when he's made it abundantly clear in his speech that they are happier in this non-conforming relationship than they were without it.

To contrast, her other child Mari is shown to have a very progressive stance (see: her pep talk in ch 47) and it would not surprise me if that is the reason she's rarely in japan and is never seen together with her family, save for the one time they're all at the wedding. She might find the conforming environment too restrictive and preferring to keep her distance. (shoutout to naina for this bit 🙏)

So that's Kurosawa's family situation. Now let's check how his social circle holds up.

From what we see of his friends, they never even seem to consider him possibly being with a man.

And his work environment seems rather toxic to say the least.

It clearly dictates traditional gender roles as the ideal. Nobody except Fujisaki even clocks any of Kurosawa's advances on Adachi as romantic in nature, even though he seems to be quite obvious about it (see: ch 34.5). And it's not like dating in general is discouraged at Toyokawa either, as we can see from all the women constantly vying for Kurosawa's attention.

From all this we can conclude that Kurosawa's upbringing and social/work environment is painfully heteronormative and until he falls for Adachi it seems he never questioned the status quo either.

The famous onsen scene, while funny, also reveals the sad truth that Kurosawa, in his 30 years of life, probably never even had the chance to explore his sexual orientation, rather focusing on being "perfect" in his straight relationships.

Speaking of those relationships...

He apparently had a bunch of girlfriends, who all seem to have dumped him pretty early on. His mother's surprise at him expressing a willingness to commit also makes me think he's never brought anyone home either. He also only seems to have a surface level understanding of what a proper relationship is supposed to entail, if his idea of an ideal date is just "what the average person" thinks is romantic. So why were all of his relationships so short-lived? Before I answer that...

Intermission: Kurosawa's smiles

It has come to my attention that this is not common knowledge, so let me explain: There's a way to tell apart Kurosawa's fake smiles from his real ones, without any context clues, just purely visually.

Real smiles: (ch 23, 24, 37)

Fake smiles: (ch 5, 13, 32)

The difference being very simple: Blush = real, no blush = fake 👍 And before anyone mentions it: No he doesn't just blush when he's around Adachi, that last fake smile is actually directed at him. (ch 32)

Edit from the future: This holds true like 90% of the time, but as Toyota's art style becomes more detailed, this doesn't apply as much in the newer volumes. I think there's also new details added that I haven't quite figured out yet so take this bit with a grain of salt. (The images below are still from her early art style though.)

So now that we have this additional knowledge, let's take a look at every instance Kurosawa is paired with a woman.

He's smiling in all of these. Not a single one has a real smile in it though.

I think he's never actually had his heart in any of his relationships, and the girls probably noticed it and that's why they dumped him.

And, of course, the first time he actually falls in love...

... just so happens to be with a man.

Even his friends comment on this, who have known him since high school.

It's almost funny how perfectly this aligns with real life gay people. Having numerous, short-lived relationships with people of the "wrong" gender is one of the more common traits of compulsive heteronormativity. (source: me oof) (but also shoutout to the "Am I a lesbian?" masterdoc, google it if you don't know, it's truly eye-opening)

After dating Adachi

So we have already established that he's far happier when he does finally get to date Adachi, but do any of his other thought patterns change?

Honestly it seems like he throws every single reservation about being seen as gay out the window.

He starts bragging like crazy about his new relationship to anyone willing (and unwilling) to listen, he has no qualms about PDA, he marks Adachi up and down so everyone knows he's taken and the only thing stopping him from proclaiming his love for Adachi to the whole world is the still very much existing societal homophobia. But he is a lot more easy-going about it now than he ever was before.

And I think the best way to describe this mental shift is, hear me out, the date song from volume 4...

... specifically the last 2 verses as a whole, and this section in particular:

"I won't let anyone divide our fraction! You couldn't pry this thrill from my hands when they're cold and dead!"

Horrible lyrics aside, this perfectly encapsulates how Kurosawa simply couldn't care less anymore now that he finally has what he's wanted for more than a year, maybe even his whole life. All the societal pressure pales in comparison to the sheer euphoria he feels at finally having someone that he loves and who loves him back just as strongly, feeling cared for and seen like no one else ever did.

And, you know, just happens to be a man. 🏳️‍🌈

#cherry magic #my essays #this is the mother of all essays I've ever done jesus christ #this thing spawned like 8 other post ideas btw #can't wait to finally get to those lmao

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doumadono · 5 months ago

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Synopsis: in a surprising twist orchestrated by Toga Himiko, two antisocial League of Villains members, Dabi and you, find an unexpected connection during an awkward blind date

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

You’ve never been one for socializing. The whole concept of small talk, mingling, and putting yourself out there has always felt foreign to you. After all, socializing was never your strong suit, and you were quite content with your single status. You’ve always preferred the comfort of a good book or the solitude of your thoughts.

But that’s exactly why Toga took it upon herself to organize a blind date for you. She’s always been a bit of a meddler, and apparently, your perpetual singleness was too tempting a problem for her to ignore. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” she had chirped with her usual manic enthusiasm. "Trust me, you'll love him!" Toga had chirped with a mischievous grin. "He's just like you - hates socializing, too!"

And you had no choice but to go along with it, if only to get her to stop pestering you.

Toga had transformed one of the dingy rooms into something that vaguely resembled a romantic setting. There were candles (probably stolen), a table (slightly wobbly), and two chairs (one missing a leg but propped up with a stack of books). It was sweet in its own chaotic way, very much in line with Toga’s personality.

You sat down, fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth, wondering who in the world Toga could have set you up with. She had been annoyingly secretive about the whole thing, dropping hints that only served to confuse you more. For a moment, you wondered if Himiko might have set you up with no one else but Shigaraki himself. The boss was the most antisocial person you’d ever met, which could mean this date would be an absolute nightmare. But there was no backing out now.

The door creaked open, and Dabi walked in.

Your eyes widened in surprise.

Dabi? Of all people?

The blue-flamed villain looked as disinterested as ever, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded with boredom. “Great,” he muttered, not even trying to hide his lack of enthusiasm. “Toga’s matchmaking now.”

You offered a small, awkward smile. “Looks like it.”

Dabi slouched into the chair across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other in uncomfortable silence. Finally, he spoke. “So, how did Toga rope you into this?” he asked, his tone as dry as sandpaper.

You shrugged. “She didn’t really give me a choice. And you?”

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty much the same. I guess she thinks we’re both too antisocial for our own good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “She might be right about that.”

Dabi chuckled, a low, almost menacing sound. “Sounds like her. She loves meddling in other people’s business.”

You nodded, grateful for the small talk. “Yeah, she’s something else.”

Another awkward silence fell over you. You glanced around the room, trying to think of something to say. Your eyes landed on a small stack of books in the corner, and an idea popped into your head. “You like reading?” you asked, nodding towards the books.

Dabi followed your gaze and scoffed. “Not really. I only read articles about how great heroes are supposed to be.”

You blinked in surprise. “Why’s that?”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “So I can read between the lines and find their weak spots. It’s more fun tearing them down when you know their flaws.”

"I saw you reading something about Endeavor earlier," you ventured, trying to sound nonchalant. You were still new, still trying to weave yourself into the fabric of the League without causing too much disruption.

Dabi’s smirk faltered slightly, and his eyes narrowed. “Oh, did ya?”

“Yeah,” you continued, curious. “You were pretty engrossed in it. Do you like Endeavor?”

His eyelid gave a slight twitch, a nearly imperceptible movement, but it was the blue flames dancing over his knuckles that caught your attention. They flickered menacingly as he slowly clenched his hands into fists. "He’s just my main interest," Dabi replied, his voice dripping with a wry amusement that did not reach his eyes. There was something ominously calm about the way he spoke, a laid-back tone that contrasted sharply with the dangerous glint in his gaze.

Looking to shift the heavy atmosphere that his words had conjured, you ventured to a lighter topic, one that might catch him off-guard in a humorous way. “So, you’ve read everything about him, huh? What about fanfiction? Ever dive into that rabbit hole?”

Dabi made a scoffing sound, a dismissive and sharp exhalation that cut through the levity like a knife. His gaze hardened, the blue flames flickering dangerously as if they were an extension of his simmering rage. “I don’t give a fuck about what people write about that scumbag,” he said, his voice cold and scornful. “How they idolize him in the creations of their sick minds,” he continued, his lips twisting into a derisive sneer. “But I’m sure they’re as sick as Todoroki Enji himself. One day, I’m going to destroy that fucker,” Dabi declared, his words not just a promise but a vow, laden with all the intensity of his deep-seated hatred.

After a moment, his fire faded out, and Dabi leaned back in his chair, looking you over. “So, I assume you read when you’re not being forced into awkward dates?”

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go with honesty. “I read a lot. Mostly horror novels. And I like to cook. It’s calming.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cool, I guess.”

The conversation continued like that, awkward and stilted at first, but slowly easing into something more comfortable. You talked about books and movies, some random stuff like your favorite food types, your mutual disdain for social gatherings, and the absurdity of Toga’s matchmaking efforts.

At one point, Himiko burst into the room with a tray of hastily made snacks, beaming with pride. “How’s it going, lovebirds?”

Dabi shot her a withering look, slowly cocking his eyebrow. “We’re not lovebirds, Toga.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “But it’s going surprisingly well. As you can see, I’m still alive.”

Toga clapped her hands together. “I knew it! You two are perfect for each other. I’m a genius!”

She scampered off, leaving you and Dabi to your conversation.

Despite the unusual setting and the odd circumstances, you found yourself actually enjoying the evening.

Dabi’s dry wit and cynical outlook somehow meshed well with your own reserved nature. Dabi might not be the most conventional date, but there was something about him that intrigued you. And for someone who had always avoided socializing, that was saying something.

“So, how did you end up joining the League?” you asked, munching a jelly bean.

Dabi leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Wanted to burn the world down, found like-minded people. What about you?”

You shrugged, not wanting to delve too deeply into your past just yet. “Wanted to make a difference in my own way. The heroes… they never really helped people like me.”

Dabi’s eyes glinted with a hint of understanding. “Yeah, they’re all hypocrites.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “What about you, rookie? What do you think of the League so far?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “It’s different. I mean, it’s not what I expected, but in a good way. Everyone’s really passionate about what they believe in.”

Dabi’s gaze softened slightly as he scoffed. “Yeah, we’re a pretty dysfunctional family. But it works somehow.”

“Have you ever thought about what you’ll do after all this?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Dabi shrugged. “No. And I don’t really care. Guess I’m more of a ‘live in the moment’ kind of guy. What about you?”

You took a moment to think. “I’m not sure. I just want to find a place where I belong. Somewhere I can be myself without having to pretend.”

Dabi’s smirk returned. “Sounds like the League’s not a bad fit for you, then.”

"What do you think of Shigaraki as a leader?"

Dabi smirked, slowly stretching his fingers. "He's got vision, I'll give him that. We might be a bunch of misfits, but he’s the glue that holds us together. For now."

"Do you think he’ll succeed?" you tilted your head to the side.

As long as he keeps his head on straight and doesn’t get too ambitious too fast, maybe. But I have my own plans, too, and I rather focus on them.”

Curious to learn more about him, you asked, “What were you like before joining the League?”

Dabi’s expression darkened momentarily. “Let’s just say, I’ve had my fair share of shitty experiences. But that’s the past, and the past never fucking dies.”

You sensed his reluctance to dive deeper, so you shared a bit about yourself instead. “I was a loner. Never really fit in anywhere.”

He taunted, “Yeah, I get that. We’re all here because we don’t fit in out there.” Eventually, Dabi leaned forward after lazily chewing a cracker, his expression serious for once. “This evening wasn’t as terrible as I thought it’d be. And you weren't that bad either. Maybe we could do it again sometime. Without Toga’s interference, of course. I know a few nice places, far enough from these crazy maniacs.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest as you giggled, “I’d like that, Dabi.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, me too, actually.”

Perhaps there was something to be said for this whole notion of socializing after all. Maybe it could bring a little light into the shadows.

#dabi #bnha dabi #dabi fluff #dabi x reader fluff #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #dabi my hero academia #mha fluff #bnha fluff #my hero academia dabi #mha dabi #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya #weekly challenge #toga himiko #anime fluff #league of villains

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vinceaddams · 7 months ago

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Hello! I was wondering if you would kindly explain the merits of different thread materials for hand sewing (or point me to a good resource about the subject)?

A lot of the historical costumers on YouTube say they greatly prefer silk or linen, but don't explain why. The employee at Fabricland suggested polyester over cotton for hand sewing some cotton hankies, and had no answer for when cotton thread would ever even be used. You mentioned in a post somewhere that you use poly for machine sewing colours, but prefer cotton for whites (or maybe the other way around, I might be misremembering?). Please help, the lack of "why" is driving me nuts and google is Not helping!

Hello! The main reason I dislike polyester for hand sewing is that it's just so damn twisty and tangly. It's what I use at work for sewing buttons back onto the sleeves of jackets when I change the length, and I have to be careful not to let it get all snarled up. The polyester thread is made with the intent of being used in sewing machines, so it makes sense that they wouldn't take into account how the amount of twist and the way it un-twists when you pull it through material affects hand sewing.

Another thing is that wax doesn't really meld into it, it just kinda sits on the surface. Usually (but not always) you wax your thread before hand sewing with it, as it makes it stronger and helps stick the fibres together so they don't wear out as fast, and it makes it easier to work with. On silk and linen it sticks nicely, but on polyester it just kinda lays on the surface all crumbly like.

Linen is great for hand sewing because it's usually very strong, but waxing is essential because otherwise a lot of fibres will strip off of it just from the process of being drawn through the fabric a bunch of times. And modern linen thread is too uneven to work in machines, so I only have it for hand sewing.

Silk thread is also great for hand sewing because it's really smooth and soft and runs nicely, and waxing it makes it stronger, and I usually double it if it's the fine stuff. Silk thread can be used for machine sewing too, but I would only suggest it for very lightweight delicate things, because I've tried it on a shirt or two and it just doesn't hold up well to long term wear & washing. (The little bit of hand finishing I do with silk thread on the insides of the collar & wristbands on my everyday shirts is fine because it's not in one of the areas that wears out first, and as previously mentioned it's doubled and waxed, and therefore stronger than a plain unwaxed machine sewn silk thread seam.)

It sounds like you're thinking of this post? Yes, you are misremembering it slightly, I was only talking about thread for shirts there! The reason I usually use polyester for the machine seams on my coloured shirts is simply that it comes in a lot of colours and is therefore easier to match.

(I also use polyester for machine sewing things like pants, because I know it's stronger and will hold up to a lot more wear. Actually, I've also had to switch to heavy duty polyester for sewing the buttons on my pants, because the linen just keeps wearing through and they keep popping off. This problem is probably because I don't actually have heavy linen thread, and am instead using fine linen yarn, which is not meant for sewing. But anyways, it's still plenty strong in seams, just not for attaching buttons. I do have actual linen thread in finer weights.)

The cotton thread I mentioned liking for white shirts is Aurifil 50 weight, which I recently found at a quilt shop and it's soooooo nice! Quite fine and soft, so I still wouldn't want to use it on heavier fabrics, but it's absolutely ideal for lightweight linens or cottons.

Ideally it would be amazing to have it in more colours and use it on more shirts. The reason I only have it in white is because it's a 1300 metre spool that cost like 20 bucks, and if I recall correctly the quilt shop only had a very few colours anyways. I do at least want to go back and get another spool in black...

(There's also the matter of it matching the shade of white fabric better, as all my white polyester thread is either optic white or ivory.)

Regular cotton thread is fine I guess, but I find it to be awfully stiff. It works for shirts, I just don't much like it, and I haven't really tried hand sewing with it.

#ask #sewing #hand sewing #thread

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howi99 · 5 months ago

Text

Ruby: So, i know you helped Jaune during initiation and-

Pyrrha: What? I didn't help him at all. I unlocked his semblance, sure, but he wasn't struggling. In fact, and i know it's sound stupid, but it's was mostly Jaune who was dispatching the Grimm.

Weiss: *looking at Jaune happily talking about his family with a goofy face* Him? Really?

Pyrrha: I know it sounds impossible but... He was acting... Weird. Like he took joy in killing them.

Ruby: Well, duh, what else are you supposed to feel when exterminating the grimm?

Pyrrha: Oh, i can understand having pride in your skill, but... *Looking at Jaune* he seemed to enjoy ripping them apart. Violently. He was smiling while doing so.

Weiss: But he can't lift a finger against his own bully!

Ruby: Yeah, Jaune's a big teddy bear!

Pyrrha: Oh, don't take it as me saying he's a bad guy, Jaune is probably the gentlest man i know. But the way he fights is... Unhinged.

____________

Nora: Think of Cardin as a beowolf!

Jaune: I prefer not, i tend to get... Carried away when i fight for real. *Blushing a bit* Y'all know i'm strong, and as someone strong, it is my duty to protect those who are weaker than me.

Yang: I'd be able to kick your ass!

Jaune: *shaking his head* Not what i meant. I can rip the head of a ursa with a single swing of a lance.

Yang: ... And?

Jaune: The blunt side of a lance. And when i fight, i... Can't really control myself. I love fighting.

Nora: Aw, don't worry Jaune Jaune, i love fighting too!

Jaune: *sad smile* No, you don't Nora. And that makes you a good person. *Getting up* I wish no one like fighting as i do. *Leave*

Yang: ... That was weird.

Nora: Yeah... I hope he's okay.

#jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #ruby rose #weiss schnee #rwby #rwby au #son of the blue lion au #fire emblem x rwby au #yang xiao long #nora valkyrie

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idlerin · 6 months ago

Text

love sick — 05. it’s all cliché and full of obvious red flags

romance 101; guideline #18 — before anything else, to love someone is to love yourself first.

the squeak of the ball hitting the ground and shoes sliding across the vinyl flooring were the sounds you heard as you spent the past hour or so watching grown men consistently smashing a ball. you were one to play your roles well but you did not find that much of an interest in sports in general. you understood why people enjoyed them but it never really became your “thing”. as you watch your quote-en-quote boyfriend on the court, you’re beginning to see the appeal.

you had eyes, it was no wonder why so many people fell for suna rintarou if you only consider his physical attributes from afar. maybe it was his gaze? It was the kind that lures you in, he doesn’t look particularly interested most of the time, perhaps that was why people get a kick when he reacts differently. people have their preferences so you wouldn’t put it past them to be attracted to suna’s kind, those who make you want to learn more about them because of how reserved they are.

you look at your phone to check the time, it is 1:30 pm, their practice was supposed to end early. “early” because they began at around 6 in the morning, you could never even imagine running in the morning.

you sighed, it wasn’t like being in the gymnasium was that bad. your friends, atsumu and kageyama were here too since they were part of the team but other than that you were a total loner. sure, there are some other people here with business you don’t know of and some just there to watch and you could probably approach one of them to get some company… but that meant you had to further the conversation, you usually do have a lot of things to say but that’s exactly the problem.

your mind wanders to a conversation you had with a person the other day instead, their name was… hayami? yeah, it was hayami. she wanted to approach you about this certain situation she was in. her friend of four years confessed to her and she didn’t know what to do because she didn’t know if she liked him back in that way. throughout the years she’s had several “what-ifs” about liking this friend but it was never really a strong emotion. now that he’s confessed to her, she doesn’t know how to properly respond and she ended up running away from him. she's afraid he thinks she hates him now.

the first thing you told her was that it was okay to feel confused because she didn’t have to name a proper emotion for it right now, being “sure” of liking someone can take time. you advised her to tell him that she needs time to think first so he isn’t left hanging and that whatever she decides what to do, he should be able to understand. hayami voiced out her worries that she didn’t want to hurt his feelings because of how much she treasured their friendship. you replied by stating that not saying and telling what she meant from the beginning could hurt her and him more in the long run.

“head in the clouds?” a voice you’ve recently become used to reach your ears. you jerk your head back only to see suna in front of you, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“are you done?” your shoulders resigned from the previous bit of shock at his presence, you really were too lost in your thoughts.

“yeah, i’ll just get some things from the changing room,” he said, you nodded while your eyes drifted behind him. atsumu was wiggling his eyebrows at you and you resisted the urge to grimace.

“i’ll go with you,” you exclaim, sick and tired of sitting on the bench.

“didn’t know [name] the sweetheart was such a perv,” suna raised a brow at you.

“excuse you?” you asked, confused.

“i’m going to change,” suna deadpanned, “if you wanted to watch i’d let you.”

you shook your head, at a loss for words for once in your life, “that was obviously not what i meant, but i’ve already had my hands on you, right?” you smile, recalling yesterday when you bombarded him with a hug acting like a girlfriend who missed her boyfriend very very much. your mind was then brought back to your cupcakes which were unapologetically ruined, you mourn your hours of hard work, “so what’s a little sight-seeing?” you continue to tease, standing up.

now you’ve made him speechless, he thought he could win? hah not as long as you still have your wits about you.

“nice to know you think i’m such a view, i’d assume you enjoyed yourself for the past few hours then?” suna started walking before you could retort, you were left to follow him with a small smile on your face due to amusement.

on your way to the lockers, you saw kageyama still practicing, he really could not catch a break, wasn’t practice over? meanwhile, atsumu was making grand gestures towards you and suna, and you wished you had something to throw at him. unfortunately for you and fortunate for him, you only brought your phone out with you today (you had no classes, okay, you initially planned to catch up on some reading today, ann liang’s this time it’s real—which was coincidentally about fake dating as well—was waiting for you at home).

“hey, what were you going to give me today?” you finally ask, you didn’t get to properly talk about it with him since he was busy training. you were leaning on the wall next to the entrance of their changing rooms, he was the only one in there so it was fine to act casual.

it took a minute or two before suna finally came out, duffel bag over his shoulder where the towel once was and cloth scrunched in his hands. said cloth was then tossed to you, you almost dropped it since your reflexes aren’t that quick.

“my extra jersey, wear it on the game this sat,” suna said casually as he watched you hold his jersey up, the number 7 plastered on it, the name suna on the back. how many times have you read and watched main characters in books and films cheer for their significant other while wearing their jerseys? now you are going to partake in that sports romance trope, how funny reality can be!

“oh is that all? what else do we do for today?” your head tilts to the side.

“i heard there’s an event in the campus grounds today, i was thinking we could go there since there would be a lot of people,” suna urged you to start walking and follow him with a simple nudge of his head.

“alright, i’ll warn you now though i didn’t bring any money,” you said with a skip in your step, still clutching the shirt since you don’t have anywhere to leave it in, “can you put this in your bag first, though?”

“who said you were paying?” he said casually while taking his jersey and placing it in his bag for a second.

you froze for a moment, “could you stop acting like a k-drama male lead?”

this made suna chuckle, he chuckled, you don’t think you’ve even seen the man smile, “you caught on quickly, huh? osamu’s been recommending me shows so that i could ‘learn by example’ whatever that means.”

right, you keep forgetting the suna is in the same friend group as atsumu and his brother, you know there’s this other guy in the group too named omiomi something? atsumu wouldn’t shut up about him. you’ve met osamu briefly before but you wouldn’t say that you were properly acquainted with him, you do see him a lot on campus because you get startled by how much him and atsumu look alike.

“i’m a matchmaker, i’m clearly well-versed in all forms of romantic media,” you say in a ‘duh’ tone.

“you can carry us then, acting romantic isn’t for me,” suna shrugged.

“no, you have to do your part,” you insist, as you step out of the gymnasium.

“what you want me to hold your hand or something?”

“that would be a good start,” you say, holding your hand out to him. he stares at it as if it’s some unknown species, and then he wordlessly extends his hand to intertwine with yours.

masterlist — previous | next

❥ fun facts !

it was only recently that [name] got addicted to strawberry flavored drinks.

semi has gigs weekly that [name] always goes to watch.

atsumu once during april fools convinced osamu to wear matching clothes from head to toe and wear matching caps to see how many people would confuse them for each other.

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — gotta love a man that insults you (just kidding, suna rintarou is the exception).

taglist is OPEN ! + (1/2) @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @alienvarmint @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @yaboiithewreck @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @haruskatana @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @mwhahahalasagna @megumiif @erenjvegerrr @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @justabreadslice @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @tenaciouswritersheep

if i can not tag you, please change your mentions settings to “everyone” thank you!

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seduzist · 11 months ago

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HIII

a lil request … dominant!katniss/ bottom!reader hcs?

skip if ur uncomfortable🫶🏼🫶🏼

hii! hope you like it anon! 💘

⤷ katniss is very, very romantic and intimate in bed for as crazy as it seems. those moments w/ you is when she feel more comfortable and vulnerable to show her real self without having to look tough or anything, so she likes to use these times to show how much she loves and cares for you, since she’s not good w/ words and doesn’t know exactly how to demonstrate.

⤷ she’ll kiss all over your body, if you have scars - from the games or the war - she’ll make sure you don’t feel insecure about it, she haves her own scars and she couldn’t care less about that, in fact, she likes it, shows how much strong you both were.

⤷ she’s definitely very skilled with her hands, whatever if it’s for the experience with arrows or the traps for the animals she did at the florest, or maybe for all the nights she spent making love w/ you and learning every touch or spot that made your eyes roll back.

⤷ she liked the ambient to be filled w/ the sound of your heavy pants and moans, along with her heavy breath, but she loved to whisper things in your ear, making the atmosphere even more intense.

⤷ “you look so pretty underneath me like this.” “it’s okay, i got you, you’re doing so good.” “you’re perfect, so beautiful.”

⤷ if you want her to be rough at you, you would have to really want it, and tell her that it’s okay and that’s what you want for a long time before she fully accepts it, she been raised thinking that protecting someone of getting hurt was the best love gesture so it would be very uncomfortable for her to inflict any pain on you, even if you ask her to, at least in the beginning she’ll get very insecure about being too much.

⤷ she’ll almost never initiate it, besides her shyness, she’ll find it much better if you were the one to bring the idea up, being with direct words or with a longer kiss, it makes her sure that you really want her and isn’t just agreeing w/ whatever she asks you to.

⤷ also, you have to let her know you’re enjoying it!!! she prefers when you say so with words or insinuates this with your body, but if you go quiet for a moment or just flinch showing the slightest hint of pain she’ll immediately stop and ask you if everything’s fine.

⤷ being so careful w/ you while you have sex, this wouldn’t change on aftercare, she’ll made sure to give you everything you need afterwards, if you’re hungry she’ll cook you something, if you’re thirsty she’ll bring water, if you want to immediately sleep she’ll cover you in a blanket and if you just wanna cuddle and talk a little bit she’ll happily put your head on her chest and listen to you all night long. that’s probably her favorite.

#katniss everdeen x reader #the hunger games #katniss x you #katniss x reader #katniss everdeen smut #the hunger games katniss #katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x you #x fem!reader #fem!reader #hunger games #maddy’s thoughts #katniss everdeen fanfiction

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the-kr8tor · 5 days ago

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Hii I have short drabble prompt how about the reader makes plushies of them and Hobie similar people making hello Kitty of themselves and partner hope having good day/night

Hi, lovely! I hope this is what you meant! Thank you for requesting ❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, subtle talk of marriage, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The ribbon in your hands is soft and silky to the touch. Your music blares in your ears as you wrap his anniversary present, you still can't believe that you and Hobie have been going strong for a year now. A year full of love and annoying each other with teasing remarks. You smile at the fond memories flitting through your mind like a film roll showing you all the best bits.

Finally tying the ribbon to perfection, you stare proudly at how well you packaged his gift. The box is covered in checkered wrapping paper with the ribbon in the same ruby hue. Now that you're staring at it, the present looks more like a Christmas gift than an anniversary present.

Your pride takes a hit, shoulders slumping down at the thought. “Shit.” Now you gotta start all over again, preferably with new wrapping paper. Maybe something that has hearts on it will be better? Or something that matches with the gift you've painstakingly worked hard on for weeks will fit better? Or will that be too on the nose?

Thinking very hard on a very hard decision, you don't hear the sound of keys outside your flat, and the unmistakable jiggle of the doorknob as it opens with a squeak.

“You need some oil on this, lovie—” he stops in his tracks when you don't immediately greet him with a hug or a loud ‘Hobie!’ the second he enters. He finds it…weird to not be cuddled right away. You've spoilt him.

Hobie tilts his head to the side, peeking through the open kitchen only to not find you whistling a tune while making something sweet. Pocketing the spare key you gave him so that he stops popping up from your fire escape, he crosses the modest flat in hopes of finding you. Lest his surprise goes to waste, or worse, eaten by London pigeons.

Knocking on the bedroom door, he calls your name sweetly with a sing-song lilt. Of course he didn't forget what day it is today. How could he when it's been marked on his calendar since the day you said yes to him being your boyfriend? He has been counting down the days, annoyingly so to the gang at spider society, who are probably waiting for the news on how the day went.

“Love?” He peeks inside when you don't answer, he knows you're in there when he can hear the blaring music from where he's standing. A grin spreads across his pierced lips, seeing how your hips are gently swaying to the music, arms crossed in front of you like you're in deep contemplation.

Sneaking in, it doesn't take much for him to go unnoticeable by you when your music is ear burstingly loud. He looks over your shoulder to look at what's got your pants in a twist, his eyes widens when he sees the finely wrapped gift, grin getting bigger at how excited he is to open it.

But before he could surprise you, hoping that he'll hear you screech so loud that the neighbours would complain about the noise, you're unfurling the ribbon already with a gentle tug.

“Wait— oi!” He immediately wraps his arms around your middle, effectively stopping you from opening his present. Your shocked scream pierces his eardrums more than your music.

“Holy— Hobie?!”

“That's right, lovie.” He smirks at your shocked expression. When you tilt your head to look at him, he presses a surprise kiss on the tip of your nose, effectively flustering you in his arms.

You swear your legs would've given out if not for his arms around you. “What— you're early!”

“Y’know what they say, early bird gets the present.” He chuckles at your forced laugh. “‘sides, I think ‘m late because you're already openin’ my present.”

“How presumptuous,” you lean against his warm chest, mirroring his grin. “Maybe this isn't yours.”

“You sure that's not my name on the card?”

“I'm pretty sure it's not your name.” You tamp down a chuckle.

“Who’s it for then?” He raises a brow, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Ned?”

“Close, it's for James.”

“That bloody wanker doesn't even know your last name!” He squeezes you tighter, lifting you up from your feet, and face nuzzling the crook of your neck, effectively tickling you.

“And you do?!” You say in between laughter, riling him up further.

He stops for reprieve and air, still squeezing you in his arms. “Fuck yeah I do!”

“What is it then, Mr. Brown?” You raise your chin at him like you're challenging him.

“You just said it, love.” Your cheeks feel like it's on fire, smile faltering for a second before it's replaced with a lopsided grin. “Or it'll be in a few years I bet.”

You bite your lip to tamp down any giddy laughter from escaping. “Care to bet good money on it?”

“Nah, it'll be cheatin’ because I already know I'll win.” He winks at you all suave like, and pressing another chaste yet affectionate kiss on your searing cheek. Letting you go, and fixing your balance once his arms aren't around you anymore, he walks towards his gift. “What's this then?”

“It wouldn't make sense if I told you now, Hobie.” You sigh out, completely lovestruck with him that your legs refuse to stand up as you plummet down on the bed with a squeak.

Hobie picks the box up gingerly, “why were you openin’ it?”

You shrug on the mattress. “I thought it looked too Christmas-ssy. I was about to change the wrapping until you shocked me into a near heart attack.”

“‘cus of all the red?” He's trying incredibly hard not to rip the wrapping open to see his present. He sits down next to you with your gift gingerly placed on his lap.

“Mm-hmm,” you lay on your side, cheek squished on the bed. “You can open it, you know.”

“Thank fuck, I was holdin’ back.”

He's much more gentle at opening the gift even though he's itching to see what's inside. In the end the wrapping is still intact and the ribbon is wrapped around his head like a bandana, courtesy of a playful you.

“Fuckin' hell, is that me?” He looks at the inside of the box then to you, “and…You!” His childish giggling echoes around your room. You smile as he lifts both plushies up from its cardboard confinement. “Did you make these?” Hobie holds them up side by side.

His plushie is as soft and cuddly as the real one, complete with his regular spiky and leather fit. His eyes are buttons that are in the same shade as his hazel ones, you've even captured his signature smirk through the stitching. Yours is just as accurate as the real one, you're wearing your favourite outfit, the one you wore on your first real date with him. But with the added touch of his spiked bracelet that he gave you on your third date with him. All made by you from scratch.

A sudden shyness envelopes you like a blanket. Hands clammy and chest heavy. “Do you like them?”

“Love,” he makes a face, wordlessly saying 'really?’ with his handsome face. “I fuckin' love it!” Pouncing on you, he embraces you as he lays atop you. Calloused hands cradling your cheeks whilst he peppers your face with warm and affectionate kisses. “You're a bloody wizard, how the fuck did you make these so perfectly?” He says as he lifts himself above you, beaming down at you with endearment.

“I had to stare at your picture for hours on end.” You act like it was a tedious task. You loved making the plushies with all of your heart.

“A win win then?” Tilting his head, he can't help but smile even more that his cheeks are starting to hurt.

“Absolutely.” You say with a chuckle, “I also started on a Spider-Man suit for plushie you, but I haven't finished it yet.”

“You goddamn angel.” He coos, “don't finish it yet, let me help you, yeah?” You nod as he leans closer to etch his lips upon yours. But he stops halfway, paused as he stares at your blissful face while your eyes are closed and lips pursed in waiting. “First…” you crack one eye open, lips still puckered together. He squeezes your lips together playfully with his index and thumb before letting go as you fake a pout. “You need to see your present.”

Hobie lifts himself off you in one swift motion. “What is it?”

“That beats the purpose of a surprise, innit?” In one fell swoop, he pulls you off the bed, standing you back up. “C’mon then.”

“Wait, hold on!” He's already walking out towards the fire escape. Picking up the plushies, you connect their hands together. The magnet you've stitched inside pulls the soft hands together like they're holding hands. “Ta da! I almost forgot I did that.”

Hobie looks at you in awe. “You never fail to surprise me, lovie.” He says it so sweetly that you almost melted into a puddle right there and then. “Bring them with.”

You take a step forward, arms full of the mini Hobie and you. “Wait, we're swinging to get there?”

He shrugs with the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “There's traffic.”

Meeting with him, he immediately pulls you towards him with a strong sturdy arm. “You better not fake drop me, Hobie.” You say as he gestures for you to wrap your legs around his hips.

Standing up, he climbs over the balcony, feet precariously perched on the thin metal. “That was one time, love.” With one hand, he holds you in place, the other is raised and aiming towards the nearest building.

“One time too many—!” He jumps off and you feel your stomach leave your body. His cackling can be heard above the rushing wind kissing your cheeks.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #atsv fanfiction #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x fem! reader #hobie fluff #hobie imagine #hobie fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #x reader #fanfic #hobie brown fluff

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somesecretpie · 8 months ago

Text

I am looking for a human host!

Are you bored?

Are you lonely and bored?

Do you have a lot of time on your hands?

Do you have hands?

I’m offering you a proposal, with potential financial compensation for your troubles. It may sound off putting at first blush, but hear me out. I am looking for a human host. And I mean a “willing” human host who might be willing to give up some of their time to help out an odd fellow that doesn’t have hands or blood.

Am I asking to control your body? Yes. Sometimes. You’ll still be there, but taking the backseat. Now you’re probably thinking “That sounds no fun! I don’t want to spend all my time riding shotgun.”

And that’s valid.

But you all spend about half of the day unconscious anyway. Your body is just there, doing nothing—a complete waste. As for me, I don’t sleep (haha), so we could have it so that during the day, I will graciously let you do fun human things, and at night, I’ll do whatever. And by whatever, I mean perfectly safe, perfectly reasonable activities.

I don’t drink, and I rarely go outside.

I enjoy baking, I look at pictures of birds online, I’ve been getting into neuroscience lately. Very interesting stuff. You’re all very interesting.

And maybe you’re still thinking “Hey now, I don’t want some random mind-controlling thingy hauling my body around in my sleep, “Weekend at Bernie’s Style” to which I say, you’re no fun and you’re not the kind of person I want to live with anyway.

“But I’m a light sleeper!” you say.

Don’t worry! I can isolate your somatosensory cortex so you can’t feel anything.

“But my family will think it’s weird!” you say.

Don’t worry! You don’t have to tell them.

Actually, I would prefer that you don’t tell anyone. Please.

And should anyone question me, I’m not bad at impressions. I’ll get really good at a “you” impression, it’ll be the first thing I do!

I know this all sounds very strange and potentially unpleasant, but remember the financial compensation that may or may not be happening. Hell, I’ll even do some of your chores if you like, while you sleep. You can wake up and the dishes will be done, laundry folded and coffee made. Doesn’t that sound nice? And then you open the fridge and oh, what’s this? Someone baked banana bread last night (that was me, I baked banana bread last night.)

Now I should say, I don’t have a lot of standards, I really don’t. But I do (unfortunately) have some, so let’s just get them out of the way before I waste your time.

Please do not contact me if you have any of the following:

- Anemia: Sorry, it’s just not going to work out. I can pay for iron supplements, but I can’t work miracles.

-A weak immune system: I don’t like getting sick, I’m sorry. It’s gross, sick people are gross. I mean I know it’s not your fault, but healthy folks only please.

-A strong immune system: Yes, I know what I just said, but I also don’t want to be attacked by your immune system. So maybe you’re not the picture of health, but you’re just kind of okay. I’m looking for someone who is just kind of okay.

-A penchant for alcohol: It makes me feel strange…

-A name that starts with a P: I’m not the greatest at “speaking.” It’s hard, moving air through your throat and moving your tongue and your mouth at the same time. You all do it so easy—can’t say I’m not envious! I’m the worst at making the “P” sound.

I intentionally avoid any "p word" in conversation, and get by well enough, but I’ll look pretty foolish if I’m cavorting about, pretending to be you, and I can’t even say your name!

Those are my standards, but really, other than that, I’ll take anyone.

I don’t care if you’re male or female or anything in between.

I don’t care if you’re gay.

I don’t care if you’re smart.

I don’t care if you don’t have a lawyer.

There are so many things that I don’t care about.

Now, I’ve specified all the ways in which I could compensate you and how our relationship will be not in any way problematic, but I want to stress that, above all things, I am looking for a friend.

Someone I can spend quiet evenings with.

If you want to hang out with me during the day, that’s great! I can give you fun hallucinations. Or you could have hallucinations the normal way, like by reading, like what you’re doing now. I love to read! I love doing funny voices. I wonder what you think I sound like?

I hope I sound nice.

And one of the best things about me is I’m very quiet. No one else will be able to hear me except you. I’ll be like your own personal friend that only you know. Like a secret friend. And you don’t even have to talk to me because I can read your thoughts.

I suppose I should tell you a bit more about myself, since you’re still reading.

I was born in the Everglades, I think. It’s been awhile.

But I remember being so cold…

And so alone...

But then I met this sweaty man in a colorful tee-shirt, with a camera, and half a granola bar, and with blood so hot.

So yeah, he was my first host, and I’ll admit, we weren’t the best of friends. It was a confusing time for both of us. I was confused. He was confused. What happened was really both of our faults, you could say…

He was a bird watcher, if I recall correctly. Just watched birds all the time. I thought it might have been out of jealousy—watching those little things flying around makes you feel kind of stuck. I felt stuck.

So I decided to be a bird for a while to see if it was really all it’s cracked up to be. Squished myself into the body of this lovely American crow. We settled down, built a nest, and laid several nice, healthy eggs with a man-bird by the name of “Richard Baxter.”

He was a very proud bird, very large. And he gave me so many wonderful gifts. Like children, and also small pieces of plastic.

I still have all of them.

The plastic, not the children.

I’d never been so happy, all these hormones had me consumed in the joy of motherhood, but the crow’s health was failing. I could not sustain myself—it’s pathetic little heart beat weaker and weaker.

I tried starving, I tried everything I could, I wanted to be a bird so bad. But it just wasn’t working out.

The bird stopped working.

The other crows held a funeral service for me, even though I was still alive. I tried to tell them, but I’m not good at speaking, you remember.

It was all just a big mess.

I haven't seen Baxter since, but I still think about him a lot.

Is that weird?

I’m totally over it though, haha.

After that incident, I got kind of depressed... I possessed a lot of trash animals—gulls, racoons, and salespeople. I did what I could to survive. That’s kind of where I am now.

I am currently living in Miami florida—been body surfing almost every day (haha). Right now I’m using a library computer and a librarian. She does not like being possessed, boy howdy are these fingers twitching. But you can thank her for my halfway decent grammar.

I’m tired of feeling like a parasite.

I want to try a different approach.

I want to be friends? Like with Richard Baxter except I also live in your brain and drink your blood sometimes. But I’ll make you bread in your sleep, so it’s okay.

It’s been really hard finding someone willing to put up with me.

I’ve tried everything.

So I thought I would put up an advertisement online, why not?

Can’t say the P word in real life, but you can hear it in your head loud enough I hope.

I know I kept saying that I would compensate you financially, but I’m going to be real with you, I don’t have much. I’ve got like twenty bucks, some small pieces of plastic and a book about...finance....

But I’m a real hoot! ;D

So,

(P)lease,

If you are interested, leave your comments below. I would love to get to know you :)

I need to go now, the library is closing soon, but I’ll get back as soon as I can.

#short fiction #short story #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #this is a story I posted on reddit a few years ago #and I'm reposting it here #Pie writes #parasite #mind control parasite #yeerk #animorphs #body snatcher #nosleep #r/nosleep

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