#like... while sharing minimal details

[medicinemane]

I think it's actually fairly simple to explain why no one wants to hear how exercise or sleep or staying hydrated might help with stuff like mental health

...I think that even when people are receptive to that, and it would help, that usually there's some kind of block in the way or they'd already be doing it

Could be they don't know how and need someone to teach them, could be there's some obstacle like transit in the way, or it could just be a mental block... but regardless, they might even like to do the thing but currently for one reason or another they can't

When you get met with "yeah, but just do it"... that's likely to create some hostility and unwillingness to listen

That's my thoughts anyway

[clockwayswrites]

Bird Cuddles Part 26ish

Masterpost

This is hardly a full scene, though a stopping point. But I'm feeling positively dismal today so wanted to share something. Enjoy, hopefully!

-

Bruce sighed.

It was all that he could do when his two oldest were standing in front of him, both trying to laugh as quietly as possible. Dick’s fist was basically stuffed in his mouth to keep quiet where as Jason was using sheer force of will (and a good amount of smugness) to stay quiet.

“Be nice,” Bruce mouthed silently.

“No.” Jason mouthed back gleefully.

Bruce had the distinct urge to bury his face into the soft wings and simply ignore his sons even being in the room with him. He didn’t give into that urge because he was sure if he did, neither would ever let him live it down. Even as he was thinking that, Dick pulled out his cellphone and snapped a photo.

Bruce felt his phone vibrate a moment later.

He sighed again.

Luckily, Cass swept in a moment later (apparently it was to be a full house at dinner), kissed Bruce lightly on his temple, and went over to her brothers. She looked at Dick’s phone, nodded at the picture, and then took each of the boy’s hands and led them out of the room.

Jason left with one last smirk, but at least the door was closed behind them with a definitive latch.

Bruce still waited a long moment before he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

The picture certainly looked incriminating.

When Danny had fallen asleep, likely exhausted from soothing the boys, the panic attack, and the general drama of the day, he had nodded off sitting upright. When the boys had left, Damian had tasked Bruce with ‘seeing it that Dr. Fenton stayed well’. It was shortly after that when Danny had started shifting, as if trying to get comfortable with the wings, and ended up tilting over.

Once he had settled, Danny had ended up curled across Bruce’s lap with his knees on one side of Bruce and his head on the other. One of the wings was tucked up against Bruce’s chest while the other wing, limp with sleep, stretched out along Bruce’s leg and down to the floor.

Bruce ran his fingers lightly over the white feathers. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his horde of children, but Bruce was completely unbothered by having someone nap on him. The thing that he was bothered by, despite his best efforts to separate himself from the nightlife, is how comfortable he was about that someone being Danny.

Really, there was relatively little that they knew about Danny. The biggest point in Danny’s favor was that Lucius trusted Danny—trusted Danny enough to consider bring Danny in to work with the Bats. The biggest point against Danny were the same wings that Bruce was running his fingers over.

Not that Bruce would ever judge someone negatively for being a meta. Almost all of Bruce’s closest friends were or became metas, after all, even if some of them were now also rogues. The meta status was almost easy to handle. The concerning part were all of the little details that Danny had hinted at about how he had become a meta: neglectful parents, a lab accident at a young age, extensive scaring. Bruce touched the faint Lichtenberg scars lightly. It made Bruce worry about what had triggered the change in Danny. After all, some of Bruce’s closest friends where now also rogues.

It was unfair to compare Danny to Harvey.

It was hard not to.

The fact that it was hard not to compare Danny to Harvey was concerning in itself. Bruce’s track record in the people that he found alluring was far from ideal. It felt almost like dooming Danny simply by the fact that Bruce had taken note of him. Already Danny was getting caught up in the turmoil of their lives and suffering for it.

That was perhaps too harsh. Danny had handled himself more than admirably, wings and all. Danny’s actions made sure that the boys had time to get to the safe room, stayed safe once there, and that the assault ended with minimal bloodshed. Bruce just wished that the change it caused hadn’t left Danny in a state of panic.

Bruce sighed. Maybe he had to remember that Danny wasn’t someone that Bruce was responsible for; Danny was a competent adult who could clearly protect himself from at least lower level threats. It wasn’t fair for Bruce to try and make decisions for Danny, even in an effort to protect him from the craziness of being near the Wayne family.

[kdyq]

The start of a new beginning

Ambessa x Fem!reader

Part one of a my mini series

Context : As Ambessa steps into a new role one of fierce protector and tender caretaker. While navigating the delicate early days of potential pregnancy with the help of Hextech IVF.

The lab was quiet except for the soft hum of Hextech crystals glowing faintly along the walls. Piltover’s finest alchemist stood before you a meticulous mixture of science and magic in his hands. Within the small vial he carried was the culmination of countless discussions, hopes, and dreams shared between you and Ambessa a mixture of your genetic material prepared for implantation through the marvel of Hextech fertility.

Ambessa stood beside you her imposing figure like a fortress of strength. Her golden eyes usually so sharp and calculating flickered with an emotion she rarely allowed herself to show… hope. “This is it” you said your voice quiet but steady as you reached for her hand.

She took your smaller hand in hers, her touch surprisingly gentle. “This is the beginning of something greater than either of us.”You smiled up at her warmth spreading through your chest. “You sound more optimistic than I expected.”

Her lips quirked in a rare soft smile. “Let’s call it confidence. We’ve fought for this and Medardas don’t lose battles.”The alchemist cleared his throat reminding you both that this moment was more than just words. “Shall we proceed?”

You nodded and Ambessa gave your hand one final squeeze before releasing it. “I’ll be right here”she promised her deep voice grounding you.

The process was not painful but it was deeply intimate. Lying on the sterile table you felt a strange mix of vulnerability and strength. The alchemist worked with precision the glowing Hextech apparatus buzzing faintly as it did its work.

Ambessa sat by your side her chair pulled close. She had insisted on being present for every second refusing to leave your side even for a moment. Her large hand rested on yours her thumb tracing soothing patterns across your skin. “Does it hurt?” she asked her voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Not really” you replied glancing up at her. “It’s just… strange. Knowing this could change everything.” “It will change everything” she said firmly her golden eyes locking onto yours. “And I’ll be here for every step of it.”

The procedure concluded without complication. The alchemist stepped back his expression one of professional satisfaction. “The implantation is complete. Now we wait for confirmation.” “How long?” Ambessa asked her tone calm but commanding.

“Two weeks” the alchemist replied. “ I’ll provide instructions to ensure the process is as smooth as possible. Minimal stress plenty of rest and careful monitoring.”Ambessa’s jaw tightened slightly but she nodded. “Understood.”You knew from that point own you wouldn’t lift a single finger until that conformation.

From the moment you left the clinic Ambessa transformed into a one woman security detail. She insisted on carrying you into the estate despite your protests.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking!” you said laughing as she scooped you up effortlessly.“Humor me” she replied her voice tinged with rare amusement. “You heard the alchemist minimal stress. I don’t take chances.”

Over the next few days her overprotectiveness became both endearing and slightly irritating . She refused to let you lift a finger but you know this is a love language for her she just doesn’t wanna tell you that. She’ll be reorganizing your usual routines with military precision.

“Ambessa I can pour my own tea” you said one morning as she carefully placed a steaming cup in front of you.“Not while I’m here” she countered her tone leaving no room for argument.

“oh my god your gonna drive me crazy” you teased though the warmth in your voice betrayed how much you appreciated her care.She leaned down her golden eyes locking onto yours. “Good. It means you’ll stay put.”

One evening as the two of you sat in the estate’s sprawling garden you finally managed to coax her into relaxing. The stars above were bright and the soft hum of the estate’s wards created a comforting background noise.

“You’ve been hovering “you said, leaning your head against her shoulder.“And?” she replied her smirk audible in her voice.

You laughed softly. “And I love you for it. But you don’t have to treat me like I’m fragile.”Ambessa shifted slightly, turning to face you. Her large hands cradled yours, the contrast between your smaller fingers and hers a reminder of her strength.

“You’re not fragile,” she said, her voice low and serious. “But this…. this life we’re creating…. it’s the most important thing I’ve ever done. And I won’t take any risks with it or with you.”The intensity in her gaze left you momentarily speechless. You reached up, cupping her cheek and she leaned into your touch.

“I know love” you said softly. “But you don’t have to carry it all on your own. We’re in this together.”Her expression softened and she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’ve always been better at balancing strength with softness. Maybe I could learn from you.”

As the two weeks stretched on your interactions grew even more intimate. Ambessa was a constant presence her protective instincts balanced by moments of vulnerability she rarely showed anyone else.

One afternoon she found you curled up in the library flipping through a book of baby names.“Already planning?” she asked her tone light as she sat beside you.“Just… imagining,” you replied, leaning against her. “Do you have any preferences?”

She took the book from your hands, flipping through it thoughtfully. “Something strong. Something that carries weight.”You smiled. “That’s very you.”

She looked down at you, her golden eyes warm. “And something that honors you.”The day of the follow up appointment arrived and Ambessa’s usual composure was replaced by a quiet tension. She held your hand tightly as you both awaited the results.When the alchemist finally returned holding the glowing test tube that signaled success, you felt tears well in your eyes.

“It worked”he said simply his voice filled with warmth. “Congratulations.”You turned to Ambessa your heart full. She stared at the test tube for a long moment before pulling you into her arms.

“You’ve done it” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “We’ve done it.”In that moment, surrounded by her strength and love you knew that this child would be born into a world shaped by both power and tenderness a legacy built on the unshakable bond you shared.

“THE END”

AN/ This took me so long to jus think about how im gonna do this whole story but im just about done with the part 4 ish I just wanted to have all or most of this mini series done so it wont be a long time between each “chapter”. Next one shot is Ambessa and then Sevika 🥸

[marsprincess889]

Yoni animal observations

I did something similar with nakshatras. This is them in a very simple way. This is based on traditional associations as well as my own observations of real life and art. 💕 The word "yoni", as well as meaning the female reproductive organ, also means "origin". Yoni animal represents the instinct of the nakshatra and ultimately, reveals its true core nature.

Also, disclaimer: it's very sad that I have to say this, and apologies if you're not one of those people, but if you're going to correct anything in this post by writing one or more long paragraphs of why you think I'm wrong, you might as well just start your own blog or make your own post about the subject. I've been observing yoni animals for years and I'm kind of sorry if any of this offends you, but I'm not trying to attack anyone personally, or even a specific placement (nakshatras in this case), cause that's just dumb. Of course, everyone is free to express their opinions but please do it politely and have some respect for the person who took their time to gain and share knowledge. It's very easy to correct others, it's very hard to be faultless yourself. So, factual corrections are always welcome(say someone got someone's chart placement wrong, or they have written a factually incorrect association, like if they were to write that Jyeshta is fierce as opposed to sharp/cruel in nature.), but, once again, everyone's view is different and so either respect mine or don't write anything at all.

With that being said, you can now enjoy this post💕

Horse yonis

Ashwini and Shatabhisha

Keywords: activity, simplicity, masculinity(solar/yang), independence, healing.

Straightforward people. They might tend to have black and white thinking, can be very blunt with their delivery and definitely prone to "deafness": not hearing others' views. Simple and utilitarian, goal-oriented. Their presence might not be really noticed until the moment they suddenly speak up about or act on something. Love to point stuff out. Either quiet or very precise while speaking. Not aggressive but can be combative. Most likely will oppose someone before making peace. Independence>sharing. Don't like anything "unnecessary", love to get to the point.

Elephant yonis

Bharani and Revati

Keywords: slow, authority, time, timelessness, strength, transitions, protection, completion, gentleness, complexity, depth.

Not revealing their innermost selves, only revealing it to a select group of people, if to anyone. They attach meaning to things based on their experiences. Protective and gentle with each other, closed off to most of the others. Very private. Not really concerned with trends. Observant but not quick to act. Can have many sides to them that some others might fail to understand. Have an air of wisdom, but not that of arrogance. Still, they are the most likely to knowingly take the high road but still protect their peace, making them very exclusive, although it's never for show. Defensive but quietly so. Accomodating to some degree on the outside, there's always more to them than what's obvious. See the bigger picture in every situation. They have a certain quiet strength and power. Nurture is important to them. Do not appreciate unnecessary aggression and try to dominate over anything they consider harsh/crude.

Sheep yonis

Krittika and Pushya

Keywords: precision, structure, minimalism, choosiness, contained.

Do not like excess in anything. They have a sense of balance, usually in almost everything. Prioritize sctructure and basics/essentials. Like clarity and clear-cut lines in their lives and around them. Can be snappy, but in a passive-aggressive way. Not harsh in a heavy/overwhelming way but still harsh about details. Have a soft demeanor with strangers and acquaintances, sometimes even people close to them in everyday life but can judge them quietly. Neutral to friendly on the outside, but if they have uncomfortable emotions they try hard to release them quietly/without much fuss. Might bottle up resentment in result. Very utilitarian and practical.

Snake yonis

Rohini and Mrigashira

Keywords: enjoyment, ease, materialism, basic awareness, growth, progress, sensory indulgence, instincts.

Very placid and calm. They focus mainly on material things but can live without luxuries, and can also share them, although privacy is very important to them. Very aware of their surroundings and their own presence. Attuned to their senses. Can get easily attached to people and things. Can exhibit selfish tendencies(or that's how it looks to others) when they feel like their desires are ignored, but Rohini and Mrigashira each do it differently.

Dog yonis

Ardra and Mula

Keywords: upheaval, critical point, rebelling, release, change, anchoring.

Tense but not frail. Might look tortured sometimes. Do not like to and probably even cannot focus on details, at least not how it's traditionally done(different to each situation). Like to display their individuality in one way or another. Dark humor or sassy comebacks. Either quiet or very loud, but either way, opinionated. If they're neutral then they're opinionated about being neutral. Can be kind of nihilistic but at peace with it. Contrarian and unapologetic. If they don't care about something you can't make them care. If they do care, they care intensely.

Cat yonis

Punarvasu and Ashlesha

Keywords: accumulation, buildup, purity, safety, protection, preservation, cycles.

Concerned with what influences them, not so much what they put out. Self-focused but also highly aware of others' needs. Can adapt to surroundings and can change their behavior based on what they need or really want. Not unkind but laser-focused on the boundaries. Always keep their cards close to their chest, not out of malice but simply to preserve their safety. Look more unnaproachable than they really are, and know more than they share with most.

Rat yonis

Magha and Purva Phalguni

Keywords: dispersion, creativity, planting seeds, the self.

Can be egocentric. Prideful and nonchalant. Love to show off. Might be aware of surroundings to some degree but even if they are, they rarely care. Getting what they want is the priority, along with self-expression. Not very moralistic, don't care much about labels. Sometimes they can be too detached. Will almost never catch them crying in front of others, although they can be dramatic if they want and can, without a problem, attract their dwsired attention. Their happiness is more warm and generous than loud and euphoric. Might have a poker face, they rarely show strong emotions. The strongest emotion I've seen them express is that of defensiveness, and that's not even an emotion. When they get defensive it's almost always because something has touched their pride or triggered their ego. Focused on what they can do.

Cow yonis

Uttara Phalguni and Uttara Bhadrapada

Keywords: stability, the long-term results, natural, softness, power/influence, unity, calm.

Stubborn. That's the only defense they have, because otherwise they're very soft. Naturally honest. They have an effortlessness about them that feels easy to be around, and they are pleasant to be around but not accepting of everyone. They avoid people they don't like from early on and stick to the ones they consider better. Not hesitant to defend themselves or people close to them, but not quick to waste that energy on just anyone, and when they do become defensive they still maintain "the high ground". Backing their allies and fighting proudly is natural for them. Again, very stubborn, so they rarely, if ever, give up on something important. Although they're tough, they're not sharp or cruel. They are mostly in a state calmness and assuredness rather than anxious defensiveness. Very fixed and comfortable in their ways.

Buffalo yonis

Hasta and Swati

Keywords: materialism, gain, comfort, strength, feminine(yin), ease.

More attached to material things than other yonis. Individuality is defined through connections and surroundings. Love comfort and ease. Interdependence>independence. Can be curiously neutral and accomodating. Self-focused but not selfish. Often phlegmatic and slow. Genuinely caring but can be cunning. Not the most direct people. They will let others know their views but won't push them aggressively on others. Almost everything about them is filtered through that neutrality.

Tiger yonis

Chitra and Vishakha

Keywords: building, gradual, defensive, expression, buildup.

The most defensive. Can look sweet on the outside but are not all soft. Can range from extremely forgiving to extremely vengeful. Aggression comes out while speaking. Rarely, if ever, present in a state of calm melancholy. They moreso go from happy/fun to agitated. Focused on development/building, and always look for more than what's natural for them. Witty but emotionally so. If they're highly agitated, it's very hard for them to exercise restraint in the moment. Not that direct in general but unfiltered during critical moments. It's easy for them to put on a mask, whether out of neccessity or just for fun. Can be very judgemental. If they're not aware, it can make them act in a "mean" way when they feel not their best.

Rabbit/Deer yonis

Anuradha and Jyeshta

Keywords: society, organization, status quo, responsibility, transpersonal, maturing.

Very non-aggressive on the inside, despite how they might look. Naturally have endurance and a sense of responsibility. Can be judgemental but also understanding. Love to give advice. Competitive but respectful. Can become arrogant. Love everything "classic" but want to establish their own, new structures. Choosy and sometimes exclusive. More warm than they appear, and capable of more emotions than how it seems. Often traditionally intelligent. Have a very civilized behavior.

Vanar yonis

Purva Ashadha and Shravana

Keywords: flow, alliances, connections, support, creation and preservation.

Good at reading between the lines, anything too structured is harsh for them. Otherworldly aura/mannerisms. Most likely to posses what others might consider as "quirks". Value their own individuality and uniqueness. Seeks to be different from what they consider boring, normal or basic. Not very reactive. When they get defensive, they get quiet. Can romatisize sadness and melancholy. Capable of seeing both sides but are often willingly biased.

Mongoose yoni

Uttara Ashadha

Keywords: independence, solitude, practicality, victory.

Truly neutral and unbothered. Value honesty and integrity. Not attached to material things at all. Easy to be around but their regal nature might put some people ill at ease. Naturally take on leadership positions. Might feel lonely but won't trade solitude for tiring/uninteresting company. Value practicality and simplicity, and are practical themselves. Surprsingly warm and feeling in certain moments, but can also be uncaring towards others.

Lion yonis

Dhanishta and Purva Bhadrapada

Keywords: notoriety, flashiness, power, aggression, pride.

Very unfiltered and loudly so. Unashamed and bold, proud. That pride and confidence fuels their calmness, but they can lack patience. In everyday interactions they can look very unreactive but if something "triggers" them, they will not hesitate to be a little(or not so little) aggressive. Love to spread their influence. Might strongly dislike anything that looks subtle and quiet to them, as it arises distrust in them. Rarely, if ever, use/appreciate sarcasm. They prefer directness. Can slip into being a bully, or can become a proud voice for others.

[antoncore]

enchantress | l.at

word count: 2.3k

contains: themes of insecurity and self-love, softdom!anton x sub!reader, petnames (darling, love), body worship, titsucking, oral (f. receiving), breeding

synopsis: surprising anton with a new lingerie set and showing a new, confident side of yourself definitely turned him on. when you implied something negative about yourself, he knew he had to show you just how much he loves you.

you’d decided to treat yourself by buying some lingerie while anton, your boyfriend, was busy at work. recently, you’d found a new sense of confidence blossoming within you, and you wanted to embrace it by trying something new. when you saw the soft pink babydoll displayed on the hanger, you couldn’t resist. the lace was delicate, the fabric light and it had you enthusiastic in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. you hesitated at first, questioning if it was really “you” but when you looked at yourself in the bedroom mirror, you knew you’d made the right choice.

the soft pink complemented you perfectly, and the delicate lace and flowing fabric highlighted your figure in a way that was so flattering, unlike any lingerie you’d ever tried on. the lace trim along the neckline added just the right amount of elegance, and the tiny ribbon bow at the centre gave it a playful, romantic touch. as you turned to look at the dress from different angles, you noticed how the hemline, with its matching lace trim, danced lightly around your thighs. the matching panties that came with it brought everything together in your eyes; they complemented the dress perfectly. but it wasn’t just about how it looked, it was about how it made you feel. there was something freeing about wearing something so soft and pretty. you felt so beautiful, and that sense of newfound confidence settled over you like a blanket; warm and comforting.

you took a deep breath, appreciating the way the fabric moved with you, the way it felt so soft against your skin. to you, this felt like more than just a piece of lingerie, it was a small step towards loving yourself, a reminder that you’re beautiful the way you are. you desperately wanted to take pictures to show anton but you ultimately decided to surprise him when he got home instead. the thought of him seeing you like this, in a way he didn’t usually, sent a thrill through you. of course, he loved you just as you were but there was something so precious and intimate about presenting this side of yourself to him. it was about embracing the confidence you were beginning to feel, and sharing that with the man you love.

you spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for anton to come home. you put on the perfume he always complimented you on and applied minimal makeup, just enough to enhance your natural features. you wanted everything to be perfect, down to every detail. as the hours went by, the anticipation kept building inside you. you sat on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other with the lingerie flowing around you. the wait for him felt like an eternity but the idea of seeing anton’s reaction made the anticipation worthwhile. your phone suddenly buzzed and you glanced down to see a message from anton:

toni ♡: on my way home darling. i can’t wait to see you <3

you smiled to yourself as you read his message, knowing that he had no idea what he was walking into. you quickly typed out a reply, keeping it simple not to reveal anything to him.

you: i can’t wait either, i missed you so much :(

a slight feeling of giddiness flowed through you, as if it were the start of your relationship all over again. the butterflies in your stomach fluttered as you stood up to glance around the softly lit room one more time. everything was perfect, just the way you’d imagined it. the soft pink babydoll, the lamps, the smell of his favourite perfume all came together in your own intimate bubble you had curated. you smoothed your hands over the fabric, taking one last look in the mirror before sitting down in the same position as earlier.

you heard the familiar sound of anton’s key turning in the lock and your heart skipped a beat. it was finally time for him to see a new side of you; a girl who feels confident, beautiful, and comfortable in her own skin. the door clicked open and you could hear his footsteps, heavier than usual from a long day of work. you heard him place his keys on the windowsill, followed by the sound of him hanging up his jacket. your pulse quickened as his footsteps grew closer, and the bedroom door slowly creaked open. anton stepped into the room, his tired eyes quickly finding you in the dim, ambient light. he froze for a second, as though the sight of you had taken his breath away. his eyes widened slightly, and the exhaustion that was behind them before seemed to vanish.

"wow," he finally managed, his voice soft but filled with awe. he took a few more steps toward you, his gaze never leaving yours, drinking in the sight of you. the room was quiet apart from the soft sound of his footsteps and the distant hum of the city outside, but all you could focus on was how he was looking at you. as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. you uncrossed your legs and stood up, feeling the fabric of the lingerie brush lightly against your skin as you walked toward him. "like it?" you asked, your voice a little breathless.

anton swallowed, his eyes slowly trailing over every inch of you. “like it?” he repeated softly. “i love it, darling.” you smiled at him, feeling your heart race at his reaction. you could clearly see the effect you had on him, the way his eyes glinted with a sense of yearning as he stepped closer. the urge to tease him was strong, laying your soft fingers on his chest, letting them trace slowly down the material of his t-shirt, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. “you know, i actually feel… pretty,” you said with a playful tone, eyes glimmering as you watched his reaction closely. you could tell he was frustrated by your words by his furrowed brow as he placed his large hands on either side of your face, tilting your chin up so you were looking into his eyes.

“you say that as if you haven’t always been,” he said firmly yet tenderly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you’ve always been perfect to me, don’t you realise that?” he continued, punctuating each word with soft kisses, placing them wherever he could on your face. “but i haven-” you began, unable to even finish your last word before anton pushed you as gently as he could onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes refused to leave you. he silenced your protest with another deep, passionate kiss, his tongue sliding in your mouth. his hands slid down your sides to grip your hips possessively. “shhh,” he whispered playfully against your lips. “please, let me show you how much i adore you.”

and with your nod of approval, he started leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck, lightly sucking to leave pretty marks across your skin, each little one deliberate, a way of reminding you of your beauty. “you’re my pretty girl, y/n,” he breathed against your skin as he continued, “and i’m gonna make sure you never doubt how perfect you are again.” you moaned softly at his words, hands threading through his hair as he went further down, eventually reaching your tits. he groaned at the sensation, arching into your touch as he fully focused on your tits. his warm breath fanned across the delicate material covering your nipples as he spoke in a low yet soft tone, “so responsive for me,” he nibbled gently on the swell of your breast through the fabric before using his thumbs to rub circles on your hardened nipples, making whimpers fall from your lips.

“wanna taste you,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “need those perfect tits in my mouth.” without waiting for an answer, he hooked his fingers into the sides of the babydoll, pulling the flimsy material down, exposing your bare tits to his hungry gaze. you could tell by his eyes how much he adored you as he drank in the sight of you, eyes darkening with lust. he dipped his head, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud with his free hand reached down to cup and knead your other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. “so good,” he purred, nuzzling your flesh as he continued. he released your nipple with a pop, gazing up at you with a sweet yet heated expression. “could spend hours worshipping these beautiful tits…”

your hands found his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as his lips returned to your tits, switching over. “toni… feels so good,” you moaned softly, making direct eye contact with him. his adoring eyes met yours, filled with lust as he heard your praise. he alternated between gentle sucks and teasing flicks of his tongue over your sensitive nipples with his hands roaming your curves. “that’s it, darling. let me hear you,” he coaxed, voice a deep hum against your skin. he captured your nipple between his teeth, tugging lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue.

you felt his hands move lower down your body while he trailed kisses down your stomach, pausing to whisper praises under his breath before continuing. his hands skimmed your hips, squeezing them as he settled between your thighs. “smell so perfect, as always,” he inhaled deeply, savouring your sweet scent before dipping his head to press tender kisses to your inner thighs. “need to taste you, please,” he murmured, his breath hot against your wet pussy.

he placed a series of open-mouthed kisses along your slick folds. he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, applying just enough pressure to make you quiver. he delved deeper, sliding his tongue inside you and lapping at your walls. he groaned at your taste, his desperation to be inside you growing. “you’re so perfect, taste so perfect too,” he praised softly as he pumped 2 fingers into you, curling them deep to hit that sensitive spot as he continued to lick and suck at your clit.

“need to be inside you, god i can’t wait any longer,” anton groaned needily. “do it toni, please,” you replied, your desperation clear. with a final swipe of his tongue over your clit, e got up and quickly shed his clothes, revealing his perfect physique and impressive cock. he climbed back onto the bed eagerly, positioning himself between your spread thighs. “i can’t resist when you look so beautiful like this, sweetheart,” he whispered, rubbing the tip against your entrance before he buried himself inside you with a swift thrust. a guttural moan escaped his lips at the feeling of your heat enveloping him.

“fuck yes, you feel so good,” he groaned as he began to move, setting a steady pace as he watched himself go in and out of your pussy. “an-anton… mmm,” you whimpered as you maintained eye contact, your tits bouncing at his thrusts. anton gazed into your eyes, drinking in the sight of your tits and the way your face contorted with pleasure. he reached up to cup your breasts, thumbing your nipples as he picked up speed, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“look at you, taking my cock so well,” anton praised, voice dripping in admiration. “you’re so good to me, so perfect…” he continued, as he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, tongue dancing with yours as he continued to thrust into your welcoming heat. he felt you moaning softly in his mouth, using the reaction to fuel his own desire, pounding into you with increasing need. he broke the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline, nipping and sucking at your earlobe as he murmured, “you’re perfect for me aren’t you? all of you was made for me, hm?” his words were punctuated with his deep, powerful thrusts that had you crying out his name in ecstasy.

“say it, love… tell me how flawless you are,” he uttered softly as he angled his hips to hit that special spot inside you, determined to push you over the edge and hear you say the words he wanted to hear. “i-i-i’m-” you stuttered, barely able to speak due to the pleasure. anton, knowing this, slammed into you harder as he urged you to the edge. “come on darling, tell me… i know you can,” he uttered again, his voice laced with desire and adoration. “say it, that you’re perfect,” he gripped your hips tighter now, grinding against you as he neared his own peak. “god, i love you so much… you’re everything to me…” his heartfelt words poured out in a rush as he chased his orgasm.

“i’m perfect toni, just for you,” you whimpered, your orgasm fast approaching. the moment you let out those precious words, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. his thrusts made his tip kiss your cervix as your orgasm crashed over you, his cock twitching. “yes love, you’re perfect… absolutely perfect… never forget it…” he groaned, feeling your pussy milk his cock as he thrusted a few more times. “gonna fill you up, make your tummy nice and round, even more perfect for me,” he gasped, vision blurring as he spilled himself deep inside your quivering pussy. “god, y/n…” he panted, collapsing on top of you as you both floated down from your high.

after a few moments to catch his breath, anton lifted his head to gaze lovingly at you, still held in his arms. a contented smile played on his lips as he stroked your hair gently. “you know you’re always so good for me, right?” he praised, his voice warm and adoring, “you’re perfect and i love you more than life itself.” he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with emotion. “i love you more, toni,” you replied, the brightest smile on your face.

“my perfect girl, never forget how perfect you are.”

cee’s taglist ☾⋆⁺ : @sshwaa @seokiebin @gacktsa @nlovesbjh @akaashikgsimp @atzhrts @yuzuksi (comment to be added!)

a/n: i haven’t posted a fic since july bc i was procrastinating… i hope you enjoy <3 PLS PLS PLS give feedback + also let me know if you like the layout n all ehehe

[nahoney22]

Congratulations on the followers! Please can I request some angsty fluff with Fox and a female reader with this prompt - 24: “Who hurt you?”

Maybe reader got attacked and he found her and tends to her wounds which leads to some feelings being shared? Thanks if you do 😊 I love your work

Medical Feelings 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Commander Fox X Female!Reader

word count: 1.8k

prompts:

• “Who hurt you?”

Plot: After a risky mission that left you injured, Commander Fox helps nurse you back to health.

Warnings: Safe for work, hurt whump, idiots in love, Reader scared of droids momentarily, needle mention, slightly injured reader, minor blood mention.

Authors note: Sorry for the wait 🩵

“How are you holding up?”

You blink, trying to focus as the voice cuts through the haze in your head. But your vision blurs and swims, the light above stabbing behind your eyes like a viroblade.

“Like someone who’s been hit in the head,” you groan, wincing as you sit up on the medbay cot. The room tilts for a moment and you feel like you may be sick but luckily it settles, and your eyes finally set on the figure perched nearby. Thire.

The mission hadn’t gone as planned. What should have been a straightforward retrieval of intel left you caught in the crossfire. You weren’t a soldier so when the fighting started, you’d been forced to rely on pure luck and very minimal training. Clearly, neither had been enough.

Your memory of the incident was weak as all you could recall was a sharp pain to your head followed by the sight of clankers looming over you before everything went dark.

“You took quite a hit,” Thire says, his voice lighter than the situation warrants as he pulls up a stool to sit beside you.

“I noticed,” you mutter, rubbing gingerly at your temple that felt sticky and as you pull your hand back, a splodge of blood painted your fingertips. A dull ache radiates from where the blow landed, and your entire body feels stiff and battered.

Recovery is going to take a while.

“You know the Commander’s going to want to see you.”

The comment makes you freeze for a beat before you force a painful shrug, hoping to look unaffected. “He’s busy. I doubt he even noticed.”

Thire snickers. “Not too busy for his favourite girl.”

You roll your eyes, already regretting letting him sit down. “Oh don’t start with all that.”

But Thire doesn’t let up, grinning like a loth-cat who’s cornered its prey. “Come on. You’ve seen the way he looks at you. If Fox stares any harder, his visor’s going to fog up.”

“Shut up, Thire,” you grumble, though a reluctant chuckle escapes before you can stop it. The movement makes your ribs ache, and you hiss softly in pain. “And no, I haven’t seen the way he looks at me. It's you lot putting that notion in my head.”

Instantly, Thire’s grin fades, replaced by concern as he notices your pain. “Should I call a med droid?”

“No!” you blurt, a little too quickly. Thire raises a brow, clearly catching on.

“Not a fan of droids, huh?”

You cross your arms, or at least try to; the motion is stiff and awkward. “I’m fine. Really. I don’t need—”

“Who hurt you?”

The sudden voice freezes you mid-sentence. Both you and Thire turn toward the door at the same time, and your heart stops.

Commander Fox. The visor of his helmet glints under the overhead lights as he strides toward you, exuding that no-nonsense authority he’s known for.

Thire shoots you a smug, told-you-so glance before rising to his feet. “This one took a blow to the head, sir. She has a possible concussion.”

Fox’s attention shifts to the datapad in Thire’s hand. “Why wasn’t this reported to me immediately?”

“I figured you had more pressing matters,” Thire replies smoothly, clearly unfazed by the irritation in Fox’s tone.

Fox huffs, the sound sharp and metallic through his helmet’s vocoder. His gaze snaps back to the datapad, scanning the details. “And why hasn’t a med droid been dispatched?”

You groan, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “I’m right here, you know. Maybe someone could ask me what I want instead of talking like I’m invisible.”

Both men turn toward you at the same time. Thire’s expression is sheepish, though it doesn’t quite mask the amusement in his eyes. Fox, however, is unreadable as always, his emotions hidden behind the stoic facade of his helmet.

Thire clears his throat, stepping back. “I’ll, uh, leave you with the Commander.” He’s gone before you can protest, disappearing through the door with a suspiciously quick pace.

The silence that follows is thick enough to cut with a vibroblade. Fox stands rigidly near the cot, his arms folded across his chest. You can hear the faint tap of his boot against the durasteel floor as he shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “How are you feeling?”

You shrug, regretting it immediately when the movement sends another sharp ache down your spine. “I’ve been better.”

His head tilts slightly, a gesture that might be concern. “You should’ve reported your injuries sooner.”

“You think I wanted to end up in here?” you counter, the bite in your voice softened by exhaustion.

Fox doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he steps closer, his broad frame almost casting a shadow over you. For a moment, you think he might argue. But his next words surprise you.

“You’re lucky,” he says almost quietly. “It could’ve been worse.”

There’s something in his tone—a rare softness that catches you off guard, even if it is for a moment. You both seem to snap out of whatever the hold that ensnared you both and you close your eyes, leaning back with a soft agreement of his words.

Fox pauses for a moment, then steps away. You crack one eye open, expecting him to be halfway out the door, but to your surprise, he returns moments later with a medical droid trailing behind.

You suddenly sit up straighter, tension rippling through you as the AZI droid glides closer, a stim injector held in one of its arms.

“I’m fine. I don’t need a droid to see me,” you declare quickly, glancing between the droid and Fox with what you hope is a convincing look of confidence. But Fox is already standing there, arms crossed, and his helmet tilts slightly in a way that screams ‘you’re not fine’.

“The patient requires an injection to reduce inflammation and prevent complications,” the droid announces, already grating on your nerves.

Your heart skips as the droid raises the injector, the gleam of the stim making your stomach twist. You instinctively lean back, trying to put more space between you and the advancing machine.

“No. I don’t want it,” you snap, panic slipping into your voice despite your best efforts.

Fox’s gaze shifts to you, then to the droid. He holds up a hand, “Stop.”

The droid halts mid-motion. “Commander, the patient requires—”

“I’ll handle it,” Fox says firmly.

Before you can process what’s happening, he steps forward and plucks the stim from the droid’s arm.

“What are you doing?” you ask apprehensively.

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead inspecting the stim injector with almost practiced ease. “You need this,” he says finally, his tone calm but resolute under the modulator. “If you don’t want the droid to do it, I will.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, words failing you as he pulls a stool closer and sits beside the cot. He’s quiet, efficient, and unbothered by your flustered state as he rolls up the sleeve of your tunic. His gloved fingers brush against your skin, sending a jolt through you that has nothing to do with the injection.

“This will only take a second,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost soothing. “Just relax.”

You nod stiffly, your pulse racing as he steadies your arm. The sharp pinch of the needle is over in a heartbeat, but the warmth of his proximity lingers far longer.

“There. All done.”

You exhale, tension slowly bleeding out of your shoulders. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice quieter than you intended.

But Fox doesn’t get up. Instead, his gaze shifts to your temple, where the bruising from the blow to your head.

“Let me take a look at that,” he says, leaving no room for argument.

You look at him, eyes wide. “It’s fine—”

“Sit up,” he interrupts, standing and motioning for you to move to the edge of the cot.

Reluctantly, you scoot forward, your legs dangling over the side as he steps closer.

Much closer.

He stands between your knees, his hands are surprisingly gentle as they cradle your face, tilting it slightly so he can get a better look at your wound.

The proximity makes your breath hitch, your heart pounding so loudly you’re begging he can’t hear it. His touch is careful, his thumbs brushing along your jaw as he examines the cut near your temple.

“This should’ve been cleaned properly,” he mutters under his breath “You clones are always too stubborn for your own good.”

“But i’m not a clone,” you mumble, your voice embarrassingly shaky even though his comment amused you.

“No,” he replies, glancing down at you for a moment. “But you’re just as stubborn.”

You open your mouth to retort, but the words die in your throat when he dips his head slightly, focusing on your injury with laser precision behind his visor. His presence is overwhelming, the sharp, clean scent of his armour mixing with something distinctly him.

“This might sting,” he warns, holding up a sterilising wipe.

You barely register the faint sting as he cleans the wound, too distracted by the way his hands move so deliberately, so gently. His thumbs brush against your skin again, steadying your head as he works, and you find yourself leaning into his touch without meaning to.

“There,” he says after a moment, stepping back just enough to toss the used wipe onto the nearby tray. His hands linger on your jaw for a second longer before he finally lets go. “That should help.”

You glance up at him, your cheeks warm, and manage a small, “Thanks.”

He straightens, his imposing frame still far too close. “You need rest,” he says firmly, though his voice is softer than before. “No arguments.”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Got it. Rest. Sure.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the charged silence stretching between you.

For a moment, you don’t think about your actions. Perhaps it was the blow to your head that made you act in a certain way. As he was about to turn and leave, you reach out and grasp his wrist.

He looks back, his helmet adorably titling to the side as you gesture him to come back by pulling his arm. And he does.

“Thank you, Commander. You’ve… you have always been kind to me.”

Then, you lean up and rest your forehead to his, eyes closed. His visor made it a little difficult but you heard his shallow gasp pop through his modulator.

But, he doesn’t move back. He lets it happen and only moves when you finally break away, a soft and nervous smile on your lips.

“Thank you.”

“G-Get some rest.” Then, with a curt nod, Fox finally steps back, his presence still lingering long after he’s gone.

And as you lie back on the cot, staring at the ceiling, you can’t decide what’s more distracting: the ache in your head or the memory of his hands on your skin.

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[mpreglover225]

[Newly Declassified Document from U.S. Army Medical Corps Archives, 1944 Subject: Medical Assessment Report — Pvt. Andrew “Drew” Matthews (Service No. 5XXXX) Date: May 10, 1944 Location: Field Hospital, Western Front

Background & Context

Private Andrew “Drew” Matthews, 18, is currently serving overseas under the U.S. Army. Initial enlistment was in late 1943. He has been under periodic medical review following the discovery of an unexpected pregnancy while stationed in-theater. According to the most recent examinations, Pvt. Matthews is now at approximately seven months gestation. This update provides a detailed assessment of his physical condition, with particular focus on rectal and hip adaptations pertinent to male pregnancy.

Current Medical Evaluation

General Physical Status

Vital Signs:

Blood Pressure: 115/76 (stable)

Pulse: 84 BPM (slightly elevated but within normal pregnancy parameters)

Respiration: 18 breaths per minute

Weight Gain: 18 pounds above initial enlistment baseline (notable increase from previous month, consistent with advancing gestation).

Gestational Progress

Estimated 28 weeks (7 months). The uterine and lower abdominal growth is consistent with typical third-trimester developments in male pregnancy.

Fetal heart tones remain strong on auscultation (~146 BPM). Fetal movements reported to be frequent, especially in the evenings.

Rectal Examination

Pvt. Matthews reports periodic pressure and heaviness in the rectal canal, especially when standing or marching for extended periods.

On gentle palpation, the rectum shows increased vascularity and mild swelling, which is not unusual in the late stages of male pregnancy. However, care must be taken to prevent or manage potential hemorrhoids, given added strain in this region.

The anal sphincter demonstrates normal tone, though Pvt. Matthews describes occasional episodes of discomfort—likely linked to fetal positioning and the downward pressure exerted by the growing child.

Hip and Pelvic Girdle Assessment

Complaints of hip soreness and lower back ache have intensified since last examination (one month prior). This is attributed to gradual pelvic widening and the shifting center of gravity.

Physical palpation indicates mild ligament laxity around the hip joints—a natural adaptation in male pregnancies as the body prepares for labor.

Pvt. Matthews experiences discomfort when required to traverse uneven terrain or stand in formation for extended durations. He reports temporary relief with short seated rests and mild stretches.

Nutritional and Environmental Factors

Wartime rationing complicates access to fresh produce, but additional calorie allowances have been arranged.

Daily supplements (when available) include powdered milk, iron tablets, and occasionally vitamin-fortified biscuits. Pvt. Matthews has been instructed to remain vigilant about hydration, as dehydration can exacerbate swelling and discomfort.

Duty Restrictions and Lifestyle

Currently assigned to administrative duties at a rear-echelon facility to minimize prolonged standing and heavy lifting.

Recommended low-impact movements: occasional short walks, gentle pelvic exercises, and if feasible, daily check-ins with medical staff for observation.

Sleep remains inconsistent due to frequent nighttime fetal activity and shared barracks noise, though Pvt. Matthews states he manages intermittent rest as best he can.

Psychological Outlook

Pvt. Matthews displays a mix of resolve and concern. He expresses worry about the stigma associated with his pregnancy and the uncertainty of how the child will be cared for if deployment conditions worsen.

Reports a sense of relief in having official medical oversight. Limited but consistent morale support from select squadmates and some discreet chaplain consultations appear beneficial.

Recommendations

Rectal & Hip Care

Moderate Rest: Schedule routine seated breaks to alleviate rectal pressure.

Support Garments: A supportive belt or band around the lower abdomen may reduce strain on hips and rectal canal.

Warm Compresses: Applied to the lower back and hips can mitigate soreness; for rectal discomfort, brief sitz baths or mild topical ointments (when resources permit).

Continued Nutritional Support

Maintain priority rations and supplements. Encourage iron- and protein-rich foods to prevent anemia and support fetal growth.

Ensure hydration, especially given increased metabolic demands at seven months.

Monitoring and Follow-Up

Regular monthly checks, or sooner if rectal swelling increases or if new symptoms arise (e.g., significant bleeding, severe pelvic pain).

Coordinate with field hospital staff to prepare for potential labor or complications, given the unusual deployment environment.

Emotional and Social Support

Where possible, arrange for discreet counseling. Encourage Pvt. Matthews to continue confiding in chaplain or trusted medical personnel, minimizing isolation.

If feasible, discuss postpartum logistics with commanding officers to ensure the newborn’s welfare and Pvt. Matthews’s postpartum recovery.

Conclusion

At seven months pregnant, Pvt. Matthews remains in stable condition with no immediate red flags detected aside from typical third-trimester challenges. Symptoms such as rectal heaviness, hip soreness, and general fatigue reflect the normal physiological adaptations of late-stage male pregnancy. Ongoing support, both medical and logistical, will be crucial to ensure a safe outcome for both father and child as wartime circumstances persist.

Signed,

Capt. Robert H. Nolan, M.D.

U.S. Army Medical Corps, Western Front

[azzifuddslover]

UNRAVEL — chapter two

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

tw: minimal swearing

themes: fluff, angst, little jealousy

word count: 6.1k

a/n: oh my goodness i’m in love with this chapter! i’m obsessed with this concept and them in general, so so cute my babies fr 🫶 please lemme know how u like it, feedback, etc. also if u wanna be on the tag list, tell me please! enjoy reading my lovelies 𝜗𝜚

the familiar ringtone echoes in azzi’s quiet room, pulling her from her consuming thoughts. she swipes to answer the facetime, and there was paige, her face glowing on the screen. her blonde hair was thrown in a messy ponytail, with a couple strands left loose, framing her face.

“hey!” azzi smiles in the phone, “i was wondering if you’d call.”

“sorry, practice ran longer than usual,” paige explains, her heart quickening at the sight of the brunette.

“typical. you need a break, p,” azzi says, voice laced with concern.

“nah, it’s all good. coach just wants to push me ‘til i reach my ‘full potential,’” she quotes with her fingers, rolling her eyes playfully.

“you’re already the best, though,” azzi notes, scrunching her eyebrows downward.

paige tries furiously to fight off her blush, quickly covering her cheeks with her palms. “you’re the best, az.”

azzi simply rolls her eyes at the comment— she attempts to ignore the swirling feeling erupting in her stomach, unsure what they mean.

“i miss hanging out so much,” azzi whispers, leaning herself back against her bed. “i miss you.”

“i miss you more,” paige replies, sharing a similar look of longing.

“how long has it been since we’ve seen each other? like, seven months?” azzi asks, prompting her elbows up.

paige nods as she pulls her lips into a straight line. she doesn’t let azzi know how much she thinks about her, how much she desperately wishes she was near every moment of every day. god, she would do anything to be close to her favorite person right about now.

the two girls continue their conversation, filled with collective laughter and buzzing energy radiating off them. amy, paige’s mother, peaks her head in her daughter’s room, observing paige throw her head back, chuckling at something azzi had said moments prior. she silently smiles to herself— she’s never seen paige like this before, being so consumed by a person, let alone her so called best friend. she automatically knew there was something more, something paige wouldn’t allow herself to admit.

when paige and azzi eventually end the facetime, after talking for about three hours back and forth, paige immediately knows what she needs to do. she pushes herself up off her bed, rushing out of her dark room, jogging until she reaches her mother’s room, where amy is sitting peacefully, with a book in her hands.

“mom,” paige says, “i need to ask you something.”

amy adverts her eyes to her daughter, who’s practically bubbling with anticipation. “what is it, paige?”

“before you say no, please just know it’ll make me the happiest girl in the world,” the blonde pleads, “i was wondering if maybe.. i could go visit azzi.”

amy turns her knowing smirk away from her daughter with her book, which she eventually closes and sets down in her lap. “and when would you do that?”

“i don’t know, preferably really soon.”

amy takes a moment to carefully consider paige’s words, yet she already knows her answer. for months, all paige would talk about is azzi. how talented she is at basketball, stories she shared on facetime, how much she misses hanging out with her— how much she misses her, in general.

the corner of amy’s lips tug into a small grin, already anticipating her daughter’s reaction. “i guess that’s fine.”

the young girl lets out a squeal before running up to her mother, pulling her into a tight embrace. “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“we need to discuss the details first,” amy reminds her while she pats her back.

“of course! but i don’t wanna tell azzi— i was thinking kinda like a surprise visit,” paige replies, eyes sparkling with excitement.

as she pulls away, amy catches the light in her daughter’s eyes— an unmistakable blend of pure joy and determination. “that sounds fun. when do you want to go?”

“maybe next weekend, if that’s okay with you? and azzi’s parents, duh,” paige suggests, eagerly.

the lingering smirk on amy’s face widens, the warmth of paige’s enthusiasm wrapping around her. “alright, that’s fine by me. i’ll give katie a text.”

paige plops a kiss on her mother’s cheek to indicate how grateful she is. “thank you so much, mom. i’m so excited.”

“i know you are,” amy glances at the blonde.

as paige walks out of the room, amy watches her with a mix of affection and a touch of nostalgia, realizing how important this trip is for her daughter. how important azzi is to her. she knows it’s more than just a visit; it’s filled with friendship, growth, and a chance for something deeper to blossom.

several days pass, yet paige’s excitement to visit azzi only heightens. she can hardly believe she’s going to be with azzi in a matter of days, counting down the hours like a child waiting for a holiday.

every minute feels charged with anticipation. she’s been spending her evenings planning out the trip, jotting down all the things her and azzi could do together— basketball drills, movie nights, anything, really, as long as they’re by each other’s sides.

luckily, days prior, azzi’s parents were kind enough to agree, allowing paige into their home for a couple of days.

as the day of her departure approaches, paige packs up her bag, triple-checking to avoid leaving anything behind she might need. she grabs her bathroom necessitates— skincare products, toothbrush, floss, toothpaste— as well as a couple of causal, cozy outfits. she also stuffs in some smaller items, like her phone charger, deodorant, wallet, body spray.

once paige is all packed and ready to go, amy grabs her car keys, preparing to make the drive to the airport. no matter how many times amy suggested she comes with her, paige insisted she goes by herself— wanting to experience traveling alone for the first time.

paige slugs her duffel over her shoulder, slowly making her way out of the house and into the car. she pulls on her seatbelt, eager to feel the thrill of independence, but also eager to see her best friend for the first time in months.

the drive to the airport feels like it lasts forever, her anticipation growing beyond limits. however, she relishes every moment, imagining azzi’s face when she sees her.

“are you positive you don’t want me to go with you?” amy questions her daughter, throwing a swift glance her way.

paige nods lightly, “yeah, mom, i’m sure. i need to travel alone eventually.”

“i understand that, but you’re only 16, paige. it’s dangerous,” amy notes, concern laced in her tone.

“people my age fly by themselves all the time— it’s no big deal.”

amy lets out a soft sigh, “alright, if you say so. but please be careful, and stay with them the entire time— no funny business.”

paige rolls her eyes, “mom, i’m literally going there just for azzi. why would i leave?”

amy shrugs, “i don’t know, but you’re a teenager, who knows what y’all do.”

paige chuckles, a grin appearing on her face, “it’ll be good, trust me.”

the two grow silent, listening to the rhythmic beat of the music playing from the radio. paige’s gaze lingers on the window as her imagination runs free. she can’t wait to be close to azzi— to hug her, feel her warmth against her own frame. more importantly, she can’t wait to simply talk with her, in person. azzi seems to get paige, to understand her, better than anyone else in her life. she understands how she’s feeling— she even lets her rant on and on, listening to every word of her nonsense. paige and azzi’s friendship made them think so similarly, basically the same people at this point. the two practically live in each other’s skin with how well they know one another.

regardless of being long distance, paige and azzi’s friendship has remained well in tact. they facetime everyday, talking for hours on end, or until one of them falls asleep on call. each conversation they have feels like a lifeline, bridging the gap between their separate lives.

as the car finally rolls closer to the destination, paige feels a rush of energy and nerves. she can’t help but think what if things are different? she shakes her head, dismissing her doubts. deep down, she’s confident their bond will remain strong even after not seeing each other for months.

“are you ready to go?” amy asks, glancing over at her daughter once she parks the car.

“more than ready,” paige smiles, voice filled with determination.

the mother and daughter pair stroll into the airport, paige with her duffel bag loosely in her grip, and amy walking alongside her.

paige’s mother helps her get through security and everything she might require help for, and before she knows it, it’s time to board the plane.

“remember to call me as soon as you land,” amy squints her eyes, a hint of motherly concern in her tone.

paige playfully rolls her eyes back, “you know i will,” she assures her, “thanks, mom.”

with a final hug, paige steps out of her mother’s tight hold, gathers her belongings and begins walking over to the appropriate gate. the airport is bustling with activity, people going in and out at a rapid pace. yet, all paige can think about is azzi.

she boards the plane with no issues and eventually gets situated and comfortable in her seat. luckily, she has a window spot with nobody sitting directly next to her.

as the aircraft takes off, she gazes out the window, watching the ground fade away beneath her. she tries her best to contain her excitement, but the thought of being with azzi only fuels it further.

the few hours paige is on the plane, she takes the time to relax, watch a movie or two, and eventually heads to sleep peacefully. however, shortly after falling asleep, she stirs awake at a sudden shake of the plane.

she takes a deep, steady breath as the plane carefully lands at its designated runway. she feels a rush of relief crash over her once she realizes she’s made it safely to virginia. the sound of seatbelts unbuckling and the conversations of passengers fills the previous silence of the plane. she takes a moment to gather her things, heart racing as she is getting closer and closer to seeing her best friend.

paige takes the time to give a quick call to her mother, assuring her she’s alright and has made it to virginia safely.

with her heavy duffel thrown over the shoulder of the blonde, she scans the crowd, looking for the familiar faces of azzi’s parents, katie and tim. just as she spots tim, he waves enthusiastically, a wide smile plastered on his face. they previously agreed to come pick her up, which made paige feel much more welcomed.

“hey paige,” katie tilts her head, observing the young girl who continues to radiate eagerness.

“hello mrs. fudd,” paige lips turn up, nerves still swirling in her stomach.

katie gives her a soft, fast hug around her shoulders, “please call me katie, you know this.”

paige lets out a small laugh, “right, sorry.”

tim and paige exchange a quick hug as well, welcoming one another. “how’ve you been, kiddo?”

paige shrugs, “pretty good. basketball is really crazy right now.”

“ah, same for azzi. poor girl barely has any time for anything outside of basketball,” katie notes.

“i know, she’s told me like a thousand times,” paige chuckles at the memory of azzi ranting on and on about her practices.

tim and katie share a knowing look, subtle smiles on their lips. the three walk through security, then off to their parked car outside. tim takes the drivers seat, while katie positions herself in the passenger spot. jose, azzi’s brother, is seated on the right side in the back, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, clearly bored out of his mind. paige takes the seat next to him on the left, and gently setting her bag at her feet.

“hey jose,” she says.

“what’s up,” jose looks up, a smile on his face.

a comfortable silence hangs in the car as they travel down the road. finally, katie speaks up. “azzi’s going to be so happy about this.”

“i sure hope so,” paige says, “i know i am.”

azzi’s parents laugh, glancing at one another once more. “she’s been talking about wanting to see you so much, i’m glad it’s finally happening.”

paige’s eyebrows shoot up, “she talks about me?”

katie looks at the blonde in the rear view mirror, “practically everyday, paige.”

“it’s so annoying— always going on and on about paige this, and paige that. she’s like, obsessed with you, i swear,” jose adds, breaking his silence.

katie gives her son a look as paige’s eyes widen. she figures he’s kidding— there’s no way azzi is obsessed with her, even though paige definitely is.

“actually?” paige whispers, eyeing the young boy.

jose nods rapidly, a flick of annoyance on his face. paige feels her cheeks redden at the thought, although she is still unbelieving.

the car comes to stop, indicating they’ve arrived at the fudd home. paige’s heart pounds in her heart, her purse quickening at an abnormal rate. she swings open the car door, flinging her stuffed bag over her shoulders once more.

“i’m so excited for her reaction,” tim laughs, eyes crinkling.

“me too,” paige says through her wide grin.

katie unlocks and opens the front door, revealing an unusual silence. paige scans the room, looking for her favorite curly headed brunette. she gently sets down her duffel next to the empty couch, still questioning where azzi is.

“she’s probably in her room,” katie speaks up.

paige nods, slowly inching down the hallway before reaching a door labeled ‘azzi.’ she smiles, because it’s just so azzi.

she opens the door quietly, heart racing once again. inside, the room is dimly lit, fairy lights casting a warm glow. paige takes a moment to admire the chaos— books piled high, notes scattered across her desk.

looking to the left, her eyes finally lock on the familiar face of her best friend, who’s currently engrossed in a novel with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, not bothering to look up. paige smirks at the sight of azzi like this.

“you’re such a nerd,” paige says, eventually announcing her presence.

azzi looks up and is immediately taken aback. her lips part as shock washes over here, not quite understanding how paige is here, in her house, in her room.

not wasting a moment, azzi throws her book down, allowing her blanket to flow to the ground. she rushes paige, yanking her into her embrace— her arms wrap tightly around her back, squeezing the life out of her, trying to convince herself this isn’t some sort of sick dream.

“how are you here?” azzi murmurs against the blonde’s frame, who’s holding her equally as tight.

“my mom agreed to let me come here, after i practically begged,” paige laughs, casually adjusting her hand to be placed on the small of azzi’s back, “your parents picked me up from the airport.”

azzi nuzzles her face against the crook of paige’s neck, “i missed you so bad.”

paige’s smile only grows, stepping back until both she and azzi are sitting on her bed, still wrapped in each others warmth. azzi couldn’t get enough of paige, her best friend, being so close like they haven’t seen one another in months.

“i missed you, az.”

the two girls finally pull away, settling in a comfortable silence, the weight of being separated still hanging in the air.

“i can’t believe you’re really here,” azzi whispers, eyes roaming the blonde’s face.

“me either,” paige whispers back, holding eye contact.

a moment goes by with the pair just looking at each other— paige can’t seem to find a singular flaw in the entirety of azzi’s face. she’s one of the most stunning girls she’s ever laid eyes on. the way her brown curls hang around her face perfectly, to her cute dark brown eyes full of admiration. she could stare at azzi for hours.

paige clears her throat, breaking the moment before it becomes too heavy. “so, what do you wanna do?” she asks, a look of longing still apparent on her expression.

“um..” she takes a moment to think, trying to get her mind off the blonde in front of her, “we can watch a movie?”

“that sounds nice,” paige nods, agreeing with the idea.

the two girls make themselves comfortable on azzi’s messy bed— azzi lays closer to the wall, while paige lays out besides her, not quite touching the younger girl.

paige and azzi settle on one of their favorites, the parent trap. paige lets out a soft yawn, trying to keep her exhaustion at bay— she doesn’t want to go to bed yet, considering how little she’s talked with azzi so far.

throughout the course of the movie, the girls make small talk, discussing their favorite parts of the movie and basketball related things. paige brings up an nba game, to which azzi rolls her eyes, not caring if it isn’t about steph curry.

“azzi, paige, dinner is ready!” katie yells from down the hall.

the pair is slow to get up, eventually pulling themselves from their positions on azzi’s comfortable bed. they make their way down the hall, fingers nearly brushing, but paige pulls away before any touch can occur— it’s not that she doesn’t want to, she does— it’s the fear that prevents paige from pushing for anything further.

azzi’s family, including paige, find their designated spots at the dinner table. paige naturally sits next to azzi, scooting her chair slightly closer to her best friend.

as they eat, barely any conversations develop, as they are solely focused on the food in front of them. it isn’t until tim speaks up does the silence break.

“so paige, any boyfriends we should know about?” he questions before taking another bite of food.

paige coughs, choking on her food at his sudden question. paige glances at the brunette next to her, who is shy to meet her gaze.

“um, no— no boyfriend for me,” paige politely smiles, quickly turning her attention back to her plate.

azzi shifts in her spot, adjusting her legs quietly. paige lets out a jagged breath, noticing the growing, slightly awkward silence.

“azzi has a boyfriend,��� jon, one of azzi’s brother, smirks.

paige feels her heart skip a beat at his comment— she’s never thought to ask azzi about her love life, it simply was never a conversation they ever had.

“he’s not my boyfriend,” azzi defends, throwing her younger brother a look. her lips pull into a line as she squirms in her seat.

paige’s gaze drag over azzi’s frame, her curiosity growing to an excessive amount. azzi briefly meets the blonde’s line of sight, a flash of vulnerability passing between them.

“really?” paige whispers, trying to keep her tone light despite the sudden tightness in her chest. “i didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

azzi fidgets, a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness swirling in her face. “it’s not serious or anything… we’re just hanging out,” she explains, her voice a bit quieter than usual.

as the meal wraps up, and the conversation flows between azzi and her family, paige can’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. azzi has a boyfriend— well, a boy she’s hanging out with. she watches azzi laugh with her brothers, only intensifying the longing in her chest.

eventually, paige and azzi head back into azzi’s room; paige makes sure to widen their distance as the feeling from earlier still suffocates her. once inside, the familiar comfort settles around them again, but it feels different now, filled with unspoken words.

azzi flops on her bed, pulling a blanket, one of many, around her shoulders. “i’m so glad you’re here,” she says softly.

“me too,” paige murmurs, avoiding any sort of eye contact with the brunette.

a moment of silence stretches between them, the conversation from the dining table still making an impact. eventually, azzi breaks it, looking more serious than before. “is something wrong?”

paige looks at the ground, feeling embarrassed to be so upset over such a small thing. why is this having an effect on her? they’re best friends, not anything more.

“why didn’t you tell me about your boyfriend?” paige looks up, a hint of sadness in her tone.

“he’s not my boyfriend,” azzi repeats, but continues, “i don’t know, though. it’s nothing serious, so i figured it wasn’t really important.”

paige takes some time to digest azzi’s words. not long after does she reply, “i understand. i don’t think i’d tell you if i was seeing someone either.”

azzi’s lips scrunch, although she understands where the older girl is coming from. relationships, dating, any kind of love talk was unusual for them.

“what’s his name?” paige asks, trying to avoid anymore silence between them.

“jayden,” azzi smirks, eyes twinkling in the glow of light.

paige hums, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “jayden, huh? sounds… nice.”

azzi notices the slight tremor in paige’s voice, “yeah, he’s cool, i guess. we just hang out, like i said.”

“just hang out,” paige echoes, her mind racing with what that could entail. she bites her lip, trying to suppress the wave of emotion swelling within her. “what does that mean?”

azzi breaks eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “we talk, go to the mall, things like that,” she replies, her voice trailing off.

paige swallows hard, the weight of azzi’s words settling in, “but you like him?”

azzi hesitates, her fingers twist the fabric of the blanket that’s wrapped around her. “i mean.. maybe a little? i’m not in love with him, or anything.”

paige nods slowly, but the pit in her stomach doesn’t ease. “i see.”

more silence stretches between the two girls, unsure what to say next.

“are you… okay?” azzi asks, noticing paige’s change in mood.

paige flicks her head to look at azzi, “yeah, sorry— it just caught me off guard, y’know.”

azzi nods, understanding where she’s coming from. “i get that,” she whispers.

azzi turns back on the movie they were previously watching before getting interrupted for dinner, making herself more comfortable on her bed. paige lays out on a beanbag, not bothering to share the bed with the younger girl.

they watch the parent trap quietly, not wanting to force any conversation. eventually, night rolls around and the movie ends, the soft glow of the screen flickering out. azzi yawns and stretches, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“wanna call it a night?” she says, glancing at the clock.

paige nods, though she feels a pang of reluctance at the thought of leaving the comfort of their time together. “yeah, that sounds good.”

azzi smiles gently before gesturing to the empty space next to her on the bed. “you can come over here. there’s plenty of room, and much more comfortable than the beanbag.”

paige hesitates, wondering if the tension from their previous conversation still hangs. “you sure?”

“of course,” azzi assures her, her voice light and genuine.

with a sigh of relief, paige moves off the beanbag and shuffles over to the bed, where azzi lays fully under the covers. she settles in besides azzi, the warmth of her friend’s presence instantly soothing her. they lie side by side, yet the distance between the girls is evident.

paige adjusts her position, allowing herself to face azzi, although she’s turned towards the wall. she stares at the back of azzi’s head, thoughts still consuming her. her mind goes back and forth, wondering why it matters that azzi’s talking to a boy. she’s her friend, why does she care?

she tries to convince herself it’s something else, a reason that doesn’t involve any sort of feelings towards the girl in front of her. she takes a deep breath, focusing on the rise and fall of azzi’s shoulders instead. yet the truth lingers, unacknowledged and nagging.

paige stirs away, eyes pulling apart ever so slightly, just enough to glimpse at the brunette laying peacefully asleep next to her. it remains dark, telling paige it’s the middle of the night.

the older girl realizes the distance between them has shortened, making azzi only inches apart from herself. their legs are twisted together, while her hand is loosely on her forearm.

feeling bold, trying to ignore the speed of her pulse, paige gently intertwines her fingers with azzi’s. an innocent act of affection that feels natural— considering they’ve done it countless times before— yet it’s filled with more tension than before.

azzi shifts slightly, a light sigh escaping her lips, but she doesn’t fully wake. instead, she instinctively squeezes paige’s hand, a sleepy smile on her face.

paige swears she feels her heart skip a beat. “az,” she whispers, but azzi only moves closer, nuzzling deeper in her pillow.

with a gentle smirk, paige rubs her thumbs against azzi’s hand, feeling a comforting warmth spread between them. it feels perfect, their shared moment— paige tries desperately to ignore how much she enjoys touching azzi, regardless of how little holding her hand is.

as the world outside fades away, nothing but the sound of azzi’s soft breathing in the air, paige allows herself to relax, drifting off to sleep with a new sense of peace, knowing that they’re connected, even in the dark.

two days pass with paige staying with azzi, enjoying her company and wishing she could stay with her, forever. the laughter they share throughout the day and the quiet moments spent talking about whatever comes to mind, each day filled with a new layer of intimacy and admiration for the other. they walk hand in hand, convincing themselves every pair of friends casually do it, while they steal glances at each other, lingering just a minute too long.

as the third and final day of paige’s stay settles in, paige curls up in a blanket, positioned on azzi’s bed— the soft glow of the moon casting a silver light through the window. azzi has been unusually quiet the entire day, lost in her own consuming thoughts. paige sensed it ever since earlier, but hasn’t questioned her about it— as she drifts asleep, she silently hopes her best friend is doing alright.

around midnight, the soft sound of rustling pulls paige from her dreams. she painfully opens her eyes to see azzi crawling through the window, eyes red with tear stained cheeks. “azzi?” she whispers, her heart racing as she sits up, becoming highly alert.

azzi looks up, her eyes wide and glistening with fresh tears, “i’m sorry—“ she begins, voice shaky, “sorry for waking you.”

paige quickly moves until she reaches the brunette, pulling her down to sit on the bed, facing her. “what’s wrong, az? where were you?”

“i went to see jayden… he said he wanted to see me,” azzi whispers, shame laced in her voice, “he tried to kiss me and i panicked, so i pulled away. after that he kept saying mean things, like how he never liked me, how i’m not even pretty…”

paige swears she hears her own heart crack at the vulnerability of azzi’s words. without hesitation, she wraps her arms around azzi, pulling her close in a comforting manner. “i’m so sorry, az,” she mutters softly, feeling her friend’s body against hers, “you deserve to be treated so much better than that.”

azzi’s shoulders tremble as she leans further into paige’s grip, already feeling better with paige’s presence near. “i don’t know why i’m crying, i didn’t even like him that much. it’s just the things he kept saying…” she continues, letting out a small hiccup.

paige rubs her hand back and forth on azzi’s back, trying to soothe the girl. with this doing, azzi grows too consumed in how good it feels to be in the arms of paige.

paige pulls back slightly, just enough to view her face. “you are so special, azzi. please don’t let some boy make you feel any different.” with that, she leans in and kisses azzi’s forehead, her hands coming up to cradle her face. she drags her lips down to her cheeks, covering every inch of her face with soft, featherlike kisses. azzi’s heart lunges in her chest, feeling her pulse heighten with every kiss paige plants on her tear-stained face. when she places a final, longer kiss along her jaw, she looks up, “and for the record, he’s wrong for saying you’re not pretty. you’re fucking perfect, az.”

she sniffles, a small smile breaking through her now fading sadness.

when paige pulls away, azzi’s lips apart, wearing a hint of shock in her expression. her eyes roam the familiar blue ones that she loves all too much as tension hangs between them.

“please don’t leave tomorrow,” azzi shuts her eyes, dread of paige’s departure now overpowering her thoughts. she leans her head to touch paige’s shoulder, as her hands find their way to the blonde’s waist.

paige leans into the touch of the younger girl, not willing to admit how much she loves the feel of azzi’s hands on her body. “trust me, i don’t want to,” she replies quietly, her pulse racing at their closeness.

“then stay,” azzi attempts a smile, “stay here, with me. stay forever if you want.”

“you know i want to,” paige whispers, her voice thick with raw emotion.

azzi searches paige’s eyes, lost in her bright blue irises. her gaze drops to her lips for a brief moment, before meeting her eyes once more. paige shallows, feeling the tension fuel between them. before the blonde has time to react, azzi leans forward, connecting their lips in a soft, tender kiss. paige kisses her back, soaking up and savoring every second azzi’s lips are on hers.

the kiss dies out when azzi slowly, hesitantly pulls away, regardless of her brain screaming to continue. she takes her grip off paige’s waist, looking down nervously— did she screw everything up?

paige notices azzi’s face, clearly racked with anxiety. “it’s okay, az.” she gives her arm one last squeeze before the two girls crawl back into bed, creating some distance to avoid any further tension.

azzi soon drifts off, sleep overtaking her body after wearing herself out from all her crying. paige, however, lets her mind run free, questioning and worrying if something as little as a kiss they shared has the potential to ruin their friendship. will things change between them?

paige forces her eyes shut, trying to focus her energy on getting some rest. those attempts are useless, though— paige barely gets any sleep that night.

the morning arrives slowly for paige, considering the little amount of sleep she got throughout the night. sunlight creeps through the window, casting a gentle glow in the room. she blinks, adjusting her eyes to the light. realization that today is the day— the day she leaves azzi— sets in, making her breath hitch in her throat.

sitting up, paige glances at azzi, still soundlessly sleeping, her hair tousled in a such a perfect way. for a moment, paige allows herself to savor the sight, the way her best friend looks so serene, completely at ease.

with a heavy heart, paige gently nudges azzi. “hey, sleepyhead,” she whispers, keeping her voice light.

azzi stirs, blinking sleepily at paige. “what time is it?” she mumbles.

“eight in the morning,” paige replies, forcing a smile despite the tightening in her chest. “i have to pack.”

azzi eventually sits up, the remnants of last night’s emotions washing over her. she shifts, feeling the awkward tension arrive in the air. “you’re really leaving, aren’t you?”

“yeah. i wish i didn’t have to,” paige nods, shallowing hard.

azzi bites her lip, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “me too, p.”

paige lets out a quiet sigh, trying to hold her heart from crushing in her chest.

paige spends the next few minutes silently packing up her duffel, wishing to god for one more day, here— with azzi, her azzi. she stuffs her toiletries into the pockets, alongside the outfits she previously packed. azzi watches, mentally preparing herself to watch her best friend leave, again.

“do you want help?” azzi asks.

paige shakes her head, trying to maintain her focus and continue packing. “no, i’ve got it. thanks though,” she answers.

as paige zips up her bag, the room feels suffocatingly quiet with all the unspoken words around them. “i hate this,” azzi whispers, voice thick. “i really don’t want you to go.”

paige turns to face her, the sight of azzi’s vulnerable side striking a chord deep within her. “neither do i,” she says, stepping closer, “it’s alright— i’ll come back eventually.”

“promise?” azzi’s eyes search paige’s, looking for the reassurance she so desperately needs.

“i promise, az,” paige says firmly, tone full of sincerity.

paige finishes up packing her bag, trying to drag her thoughts from overwhelming her brain completely. katie starts up the car as paige throws her duffel in, reality crashing down on her hard. azzi decides to join her for the car ride to the airport, wanting to stay with paige as long as she possibly can. the two girls climb into the backseat together, the tension in the air palpable.

as they drive towards the airport, the city flashing by, yet paige feels as if the time has slowed. her gaze trails azzi’s figure, who’s staring out the window, lost in thought. “you okay?” paige nudges her softly.

azzi shrugs, “it feels too real now,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

“i know,” paige sighs, equally as quiet. she reaches for azzi’s hand, giving it a squeeze, capturing everything she wishes she could say.

they arrive at the airport— paige’s stomach curls just looking at the large doors, awaiting her entrance.

katie parks the car and the three step out into the chilling air, not bothering to make discussion. they roam into the airport; the sound of travelers and announcements fill the atmosphere, but all paige can focus on is azzi— azzi, who she’ll be leaving in a matter of minutes.

“let’s get you checked in,” katie suggests.

as they walk towards the terminal area of the airport, paige keeps the brunette closer, grabbing onto her arm to avoid loosing her in the crowd of people.

after successfully checking in, the moments of paige and azzi are limited. paige glances at her, her heart beating faster and faster. “i wish i could take you with me.”

“me too,” azzi whispers, attempting to smile at the blonde.

a couple of minutes pass with paige and azzi remaining close in distance, dreading the announcement of her broading. when it later comes, paige arises from her seat, as does azzi.

paige doesn’t wait to pull her friend into her arms, wrapping them around her frame. azzi clutches onto paige as if she’ll never see her again, squeezing her eyes closed, wishing she could stay like this forever— in paige’s arms, surrounded by her warmth.

they pull back, hands continuing to explore each others bodies in a friendly manner. paige’s blue eyes meet azzi’s brown ones, sharing a look of unspoken affection— fear, love, and an undeniable connection.

“i’ll miss you so much,” azzi reminds her, eyebrows pinching down.

“i’ll miss you more,” paige smiles, ignoring the knot in her stomach. “love you, az.”

azzi’s breath hitches in her throat, “i love you too,” she mutters, leaning in to place a long kiss on her cheek, cupping the back of her head for support.

paige turns, eyes finally tearing away from azzi as she begins walking to her gate. she glances back, finding azzi still watching her leave, looking as sad as she feels. she offers a wave and a small smile, in a way to let her know she’ll be back, when the time is right.

paige immediately pulls out her phone, not waiting a moment to text azzi.

just landed. i miss you already. can’t wait to see you again, she texts.

the response is quick: missing you loads more. facetime when you get home?

the corners of paige’s lips quirk up— obviously, she replies, excitement bubbling through her.

with a smile, paige tucks her phone away, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her. she knows she won’t be seeing azzi for a while— months, maybe more— but she knows their connection, their friendship can withstand the distance between them.

[sunrise-imagines]

Hello! May I please request headcanons for both Simon and the Winter King with a S/O who’s very feminine and girly? Also a bit of a coward/ damsel in distress type? Thank you so much!

No problem! Enjoy :)

Simon Petrikov/Winter King x Feminine! Damsel! Reader

Simon Petrikov:

• To be honest, he’s also pretty cowardly, but although he isn’t as brave and strong as Finn and Jake , when it comes down to it he always puts your safety and wellbeing above all else, even his own.

• Even though he’s scared himself, he’ll try his best to be the knight in shining armor you deserve

• He’ll sit outside the dressing room in stores while you try on dress after dress, always telling you that you look beautiful no matter what you wear. To him, anything and everything looks good on you!

• Tries to help you apply your makeup, but he always gets flustered being so close to your face and might accidentally poke your eye trying to do your mascara (Sorry honey!)

• One thing he is good at is painting your nails, years of handling delicate artifacts has given him steady hands, and with enough practice he can make some pretty detailed designs

• If he sees a piece of jewelry or an accessory he thinks you might like, he’ll save up his salary to buy it for you as a gift. Eating nothing but cheap ramen and coffee for a month is totally worth it when he sees the smile on your face.

• If you ask him to get dolled up with you, he will be a little hesitant, saying that he could never look as good as you, but with enough persuading and some really good puppy eyes he’ll let you put him in a dress and some minimal makeup. Surprisingly, he finds he likes it more than he though he would!

Winter King:

• Literally a match made in heaven.

• Winter King’s whole thing is being the gentlemanly hero who swoops in to save damsels in distress like you, it feeds his ego so much.

• He’s always ready to valiantly save you from any threat, even something as simple as trying to get something off the top shelf. He’ll burst in the room shouting, “ Fear not, fair maiden! Your King is here to protect you!”

• Sometimes he’ll let Candy Queen kidnap you just so he can be the one to save you, he’s that confident that nothing bad can ever happen to you as long as he’s around.

• He is also very in touch with his feminine side, and he loves that the two of you share this!

• He’ll make matching ice themed outfits for both of you, loving how you look in those icy blues and powdery whites

• Like his voice actor BDG, he loves having his nails painted and will set up regular mani-pedi spa days for you both to relax together.

• Will make you a big, poofy princess gown and invite you to dance with him in the throne room, twirling you around like the scene in Beauty and the Beast.

• He just wants you to always feel as beautiful as he thinks you are.

[psychologeek]

This is Shani Louk, as her family asked people to remember her. Her family asked NOT to spread That Photo. Her family asked people to remember her for the way she lived.

So here's a photo of Shani Louk:

The man who took the picture of her dead body being kidnapped by terrorists just won a prize for that.

The man who came with those terrorists. Who knew the attack is going to happen. Who took photos and show himself holding weapons.

The man who worked with the people who aimed and killed and raped

That man

Won a photography prize

For taking the photo of

A young murdered woman.

For doing nothing but

Stand aside

And encourage.

Her family didn't even get her Body back.

Shani isn't buried.

I am disgusted. There are no words I can use.

ReneDescartwheel on Reddit wrote:

The content of the photo is a young Israeli woman lying dead and half naked in the back of a pickup truck, bleeding profusely from a hole in her skull, with her murderers using her as a foot rest, en route to be paraded like a hunting trophy in front of cheering mobs of Gazan civilians. And yet, the caption of the award couldn’t have been more dismissive of the October 7th atrocities if Hamas had written it themselves. It paints a picture of a well planned and successful military operation, without a single detail of the brutality of the massacre that is necessary to give context to this photo. The language used is deliberately minimizing. For instance, instead of saying that Hamas took hundreds of hostages, including women and children, they said “…taking dozens of captives”. That’s it. Could be 24, could be 253. Whatever. Somehow, despite the content of the photo, most of the description was dedicated to conveying the details of Israel’s retaliation.

MadUmbrella added:

TIL that initially on 10/7 the image sold by Ali Mahmud to AP of the abduction of Shani Louk’s body was identified by AP as “the body of an Israeli soldier”, so AP took the words of Ali Mahmud, a palestinian terrorist, and called Shani Louk “an Israeli soldier” while she was a civilian tortured and killed at Nova music festival. AP shared the photo on their newsfeed on 10/7 at 7:41 am, just a few minutes after the photo was taken and added the caption provided by Ali Mahmud who knew that his friends were kidnapping, torturing and murdering civilians at the Nova festival. This is complicity in the crimes committed by the palestinians on 10/7. AP’s journalistic ethics are completely gone, that’s why they’re paying palestinian terrorists for the images of their crimes. AP corrected their initial story only on November 2.

[amnmesias]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

SUMMARY: After a night out, Sirius wakes up in your apartment slightly hungover and a little confused. Only to be left to pick up the pieces of his own heart.

CW: unrequited love? possible poly!wolfstar if you squint, angst if you squint harder. kind of fluff. fem!reader who has hair long enough to be played with. morning after, no nsfw described but its hinted. minimal y/n use. no war au

A/N: hello! this is my first work! hopefully you guys like it, it’s kind of my first try at writing for the marauders fandom. this could be read as a stand alone for now, but i’m sure i will come up with more parts in the future. enjoy! xx 

part two

_

Sirius doesn’t remember falling asleep with the quilt he so lovingly gifted you two Christmases ago, evidently, he also doesn’t remember him even getting into your apartment after too many rounds of firewhiskey shots.  

Your apartment is a quaint little unit you, Mary, Marlene and Dorcas found after graduating Hogwarts. It sits in a hidden corner of Diagon Alley that none of you nor your friends thought of considering had it not been for Mrs. Potter being the one that recommended it. Despite its old exterior, you and the girls made the apartment a cozy home full of laughter and more importantly, love for one another. Sirius has forgotten the amount of times he has knocked on the door in hopes of a shoulder to lean on or even just for the sake of company. Clearly, he isn’t shy to consider your apartment a crash stop when he’s not sure he can manage the walk home to his own apartment with his friends. 

It’s quiet, and he wonders if the lot of you have already started on your day and left him to sleep in. He desperately hopes there’s still some coffee left on the machine. From what he heard the night before, Marlene and Dorcas planned on going on a morning hike, he distinctly remembers snorting at the idea of Marlene McKinnon waking up at the crack of dawn just because her lovely girlfriend wants to see the sunrise. 

A deep ache settles in his chest. Oh, how he wishes to have someone he loves so devotedly to wake up to see the sunrise. He supposes he does, though the objects of his silent affections go completely unnoticed to his advances (if he dares to even call them advances). Sirius sighs and bitterly decides to stay a little longer. He’s sure he won’t be able to handle Remus’ disheveled morning hair and the lazy smiles they share while listening to James and Lily go on about the plans for their day. Not sure if he’s willing to put himself through your adorable morning hair and even more adorable frown, either.

A door opens somewhere deep in the apartment, and the cadence of your silent giggles follows. You hush and giggle as you walk to the kitchen, and Sirius’ heart picks up a little. You’re with someone, you brought someone home. 

There have been whispers here and there among your group of friends. A passing comment from Lily one morning. 

“What are your plans for the day, Pads?” Asked James, and Sirius brought his hand to his jaw, scratching the upcoming stubble with distraction. “Pester the girls again, maybe?”

“Remember to knock first though, I don’t think I can handle another of your detailed stories about Marls’ birthmark.” Remus pointed, folding his copy of the Daily Prophet under his arm. 

“That was one time!” He yelled at Remus, who walked out of the kitchen in a fit of boyish giggles, ready to start his day. Sirius desperately hoped to get drunk on that sound. “You know, my lovely (Y/N) doesn’t mind my pestering, thank you very much, Prongs. I know she’s already waiting for me.”

Lily laughed. “Fat chance, Sirius. She said she’ll be out most of the day.” 

“What?”

“What does she even have to do?” James asked, turning to Sirius for confirmation, confusion evident in both their faces. “It’s her free day, isn’t it? Can’t she take a break or something?”

“Why are you looking at me? It’s not like I control her life outside the shop!” Sirius argued, holding his arms out, and James shook his head disapprovingly.

“Can’t stay still, that one. Always running around.”

“Well…” A mischievous glint took over Lily’s eyes. She leaned in and both boys had no choice but to interrupt their discussion in order to listen to her. “Mary and I think she's seeing someone.”

And Sirius can’t be held responsible for the physical pang he felt inside his ribcage, suspiciously close to his heart. He hasn’t given it much thought since then, or tried to, knowing he would spiral into a whole panicked breakdown. But he couldn’t ignore the signs. The way you started to style your hair differently, the radiant glow in your appearance every time you walked into the shop from work, later than usual. The one time he saw you in Diagon Alley on your free day, carrying two plastic cups and a bag of pastries sticking out from your bag. 

He can’t even deign to feel betrayed by your secret, being witness of your trials and tribulations throughout Hogwarts. Your love life has always been a subject of anger among him and your friends. Boys with too much confidence and little empathy who would get their filthy hands on you and do with your heart what they wanted, even if you ended up incredibly heartbroken in the end, it was always for their entertainment only. And the pattern would repeat countless times even in your time after school. Sirius would always be vocal about the unjust treatment from your partners, Remus a close second though much gentler, but you seemed set in finding true love no matter what your friends thought. 

Fabian Prewett was the first one to break your heart, promising you the moon and the stars in private but acting as though you were a part of his imagination in public. The fallout was inevitable but the pain it caused left a scar that he suspects you still regret to this day. McLaggen didn’t even bother to properly know you before deciding you weren’t worth the time of his day, leaving you waiting up at the common room embarrassingly picking up what was left of your dignity, your pretty mascara ruined and the camera you take everywhere with no pictures taken. Next was a boy from Ravenclaw that he can’t bring himself to remember, who treated you like an inferior creature with his friends and your own friends (when he had the chance, James was always one comment away from hexing the hell out of him, Sirius one step behind). You dated him longer than the rest, under the lie that he loved you deeply despite his mean demeanor, until he made out with a beautiful Ravenclaw girl in front of everyone at the Gryffindor win after party. Remus and Lily still talk about that night with an edge to their voices, their anger barely contained.

Truth be told, Sirius often asked himself how you manage to walk through life with the countless blows your heart has received, but he supposed the same goes to him. 

“Stop it,” You whisper, the smile on your face evident in your tone. Sirius could almost picture it, your slightly flushed cheeks and tousled hair. “I can do it.”

A laugh followed, and what was left of Sirius’ heart finishes breaking. “Dove,” Remus laughs, rich and full of fondness. “The least I can do is make your tea, after I so rudely woke you up.” Sirius dares to look up, grateful that none of you can see him from the kitchen. “Poor girl.” He looks at Remus, leaning in, and he closes his eyes harshly.

“It wasn’t rude…” You say, a shyness to your tone. Sirius wishes to kiss you, and Remus seems to be on the same wavelength because he gently holds your face in his hands. You inhale deeply, looking into his amber eyes. “I rather enjoyed it.”

Remus’ smile is blinding. “Oh, you did?” He leans in closer, your foreheads touching. 

“Stop.” You whisper, but made no move to stop Remus from pressing his lips to the corner of yours. It seems your smile can’t be kept at bay any longer, either. You hold onto Remus’ wrists, none of you speaking for a moment. You look down, finding more interest in the ratty shirt you’re wearing, the Kinks logo all faded and peeled off. “Remus, I-”

With a bittersweet feeling, Sirius realizes that the shirt you’re wearing is the same one he had been looking for everywhere, and Remus swears he didn’t hide from him because he needed to start buying his own clothes.

“Don’t go shy on me now, lovely girl.” You visibly react to the endearment, and Remus’ smile widens. “What is it, hm?”

“I just… I’m just,” You start, either too lost in his eyes or in your own head to formulate a coherent thought. Sirius feels for you, being the center of Remus’ attention has always been his drug of choice. “I’m so happy…”

Although you seem to not expect it, Remus’ face shows that it was exactly what he wanted to hear, pulling you closer and kissing you fervently like your lips are his lifeline. Sirius looks away, unable to control the turmoil in his stomach and the forming headache in his temples. He buries his face in the cushion and pulls the quilt over his head. The kitchen falls silent, Remus kissing you silly being the only source of sound.

“Dove,” He finally says, both breathless from the kiss and the giddiness of your impromptu love confession. “I’ve never been happier. You,” He kisses you again, earnest. Arms around you and fisting your big shirt as he moves his lips to your jaw, your giggles seeming to increase in volume. “You’re so amazing, and lovely. You’re so…. so lovely. Good luck,” He kisses the corner of your eye, it’s all awkward and messy with his big smile and you laughing at his sudden burst of energy, but not less any loving. “getting rid of me now.” 

Good, so I don’t have to see your stupid lovestruck face anymore. Sirius thinks, bitterness and heartbreak both settling in his chest. He was so inside his head, his inner dilemma and confusion about loving both of you that he never imagined you and Remus would find each other somewhere in between.  Although… The lingering touches, Remus complimenting and playing with your soft hair, him running into Remus all dressed up in Diagon Alley more times than he cares to admit, and last night? When none of you were nowhere to be seen? 

Of course… Of course. All this time, the guy he had secretly hoped you stopped seeing was in front of him all this time. 

He dares to cast another look at the kitchen, only to find it empty. The only sign of what happened in the form of the forgotten tea cups and kettle sitting on the stove. He wonders if it’s too late to slip out while you two are so obviously having another go in the bedroom. 

It could be worse, he supposes. If his own indecisiveness pushed both of you to find solace and a loving home in the arms of one another, he supposes that it could definitely be worse. Remus would surely find endless support and love in you after every full moon, your acceptance evident every morning after at the door of his apartment with a box full of potions and food for him and James. And, you… well, Sirius can’t really bring himself to be angry at you for picking Remus over him. Gentle, soft-spoken and emotionally smart Remus who will treat you with the love and devotion you deserve.

Yeah, he sighs deeply. Closing his eyes again, his heartbreak slowly morphing into something close to acceptance. It could be worse.

[k-nayee]

Mama JJK

wc: 3.9k a/n: Song Inspiration: Mama by Rob49, Skilla Baby, and Tay B; recommend you listen while reading!!

College!AU

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The afternoon air was cool as you make your way across campus, the sun lazily sinking behind the student center.

You're walking to Geto’s shared apartment to finish the last details of your end-of-semester presentation for your public health class.

You weren’t nervous—after weeks of working on the project, things were going smoothly. Especially with Geto, who you'd surprisingly clicked with.

He turned out to be surprisingly down-to-earth for a business major.

As you approach the apartment complex, the brunette's warning from earlier in the week echoes in your mind.

“You’ll probably meet my roommate at some point,” he had said, scratching the back of his neck. “Just... heads up. Gojo’s a bit much. He thinks everyone falls in love with him, so don’t be surprised if he—”

You waved him off, laughing it off at the time. A guy with a reputation for being cocky wasn’t exactly news.

You’d dealt with enough overconfident people before, and you weren’t about to let someone like Gojo get under your skin.

The door swings open before you can even knock, revealing Geto standing there dressed casually in a hoodie and joggers.

His dark hair pulled back in its usual neat bun as he gave you a small smile, stepping aside to let you in.

"Hey, come on in," he said, his voice smooth as usual. The apartment smelled faintly clean and expensive—probably whatever brand of cologne they both wore.

It was neat and minimal, with modern furniture and just enough personality to show that two guys lived here but weren’t obsessed with keeping it pristine.

As you dropped your backpack onto the table and prepared to dive into your notes, footsteps stomp down the hall.

You glance at Geto who released as if he knew what was coming.

“Yo, Suguru!” A voice loudly rang before the person even appeared. “You got any more—”

The moment he stepped into the room, his sentence stops once his gaze locks on you.

Tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in sweatpants that slung low on his hips and a t-shirt clinging to his lean frame—Gojo Satoru had a presence of someone who was used to being noticed.

His white hair was an unruly mess, and his blue eyes gleamed with immediate interest as he took you in.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” his voice had a teasing tone as he casually leaned against the doorframe with crossed arms.

There it was—the swagger, the cocky smirk, the way he took his sweet time taking you in. You could hear Geto’s silent groan beside you.

Gojo didn’t stop there.

"So..." He stepped forward, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he made his way around the couch. “You’re the one making Suguru's grades look good, huh? Damn, he didn’t tell me you'd be this cute tho."

His voice is smooth—almost too smooth. You couldn’t help the slight snort that escaped before you caught yourself. 

Clearly this isn't the first time he's tried to charm someone within five seconds of meeting them.

It’s like he’s on autopilot, throwing out compliments without a second thought as if he's sure they'll land. Maybe they did.

"Cute huh?" you replied, voice flat but not unfriendly. “Unfortunately for him, I’m just here for the project. Not to boost anyone’s grades.”

Gojo’s grin didn’t falter—if anything it widened, like he had just been given a new challenge.

He stepped closer, leaning against the back of the couch now, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Oh, I get it,” his tone dips slightly, lowering his voice he as if letting you in on a secret. “You’ve heard about me, haven’t you? That’s why you’re playing hard to get.”

You glanced at Geto, who was already flipping through his textbook as if to distance himself from the unfolding situation. Gee, thanks.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back at Gojo with an unimpressed look. 

"Boy please. I ain't playin nothing.” your tone is dry, cutting. "Simply don't have time for dudes who think they're God's gift to women. So save it for someone else."

His smirk falters for just a second, you see a flicker within his eyes—surprise maybe? Amusement? Whatever it was, it vanishes as quick as it had appeared.

There’s a spark of challenge in his gaze now. He straightens up tilting his head playfully.

“Cold, huh?” Gojo chuckled softly. “I like that about you.”

You scoff, more amused than annoyed.

Geto, sensing the moment had stretched on long enough, finally spoke up.  “She’s not interested man,” he says, tone casual with a hint of warning. “And we’ve got work to do, so...”

Gojo wasn’t fazed. He just laughed again, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m just being friendly. Don’t mind me.”

But of course he doesn’t leave.

Instead he moves around to the opposite side of the table, grabbing a snack from the counter as he watches the two of you work.

Every now and then, you could feel his gaze flicker in your direction—lingering just long enough for you to notice.

You sighed. This guy was going to be a problem.

After a few minutes of him loitering in the kitchen, Gojo finally tossed the empty snack wrapper into the trash and pushed off from the counter.

“Think Imma leave you two nerds at it. But hey,—” he pauses his trek down the hall, voice lowering just slightly as he gives you one last look. “Don’t be a stranger, kay?”

You didn’t respond, just waving him off to focusing back on your laptop. Only once you heard his bedroom door click shut did you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Geto glanced up at you, the barest hint of a smile on his face. “Told you he was a bit much.”

You snort with a shake of your head. “A bit?”

As much as you tried to shrug it off, you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you crossed paths with him.

Though you didn't worry too much, you had no time for guys like Gojo—no matter how much money he had or how attractive he might be.

'He can try all he wants' , you think as your fingers fly over the keyboard. 'But I’m not interested.'

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The days after your first encounter with Gojo Satoru felt like a game of cat-and-mouse.

No matter where you went on campus, it seemed like Gojo wasn’t far behind—sliding into your space with a smug grin like he belonged there.

You hadn’t expected him to be so relentless, especially after you shut him down at their apartment. If anything, it seemed to motivate him more.

He seemed to thrive on the challenge of someone not immediately falling for his charm. And Gojo wasn’t subtle about it.

Not at all.

You had left lecture hall and went to the courtyard to review your notes when a familiar presence loomed next to you.

You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was—there was an energy about Gojo that was impossible to ignore.

“Hey, stranger,” he greeted smoothly in that teasing voice that had (unfortunately) started to become annoyingly familiar.

He dropped into the seat next to you, long legs stretched out as if he owned the place.

Without sparing a glance you sighed. “Pretty sure I told you I’m not interested,” you replied, tone flat as your eyes remained glued to your notes.

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling. He chuckled, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. “Interested in what? I’m just sitting here. Coulda sworn it’s a free campus...”

You shot him a sideways look. He was grinning—of course he was—and that lazy confidence radiated off him like heat.

His nonchalance was infuriating, but at the same time there was something undeniably charming about it.

You'd heard (and even witnessed) a few stories about Gojo Satoru—the endless flings, the parties, the girls who lined up for a shot with him

And yet here he was, fixated on you.

It didn’t make sense. You weren’t falling for his charm but he still kept coming back for more.

“I’m not buying it,” you muttered, finally turning to face him. “I know your type. You’re used to getting whatever you want.”

His grin widened as he leaned in, his eyes dropping to your lips. “Not everything, apparently.”

Your heart did a little flip at that, but you pushed the feeling down with a roll of your eyes.

There was no way you were going to let him get to you, no matter how persistent he was.

*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*

It didn’t stop there.

That same evening as you walked from the library, your phone buzzed, a notification lighting up your screen.

Snapchat: Gojo Satoru has added you.

Of course he did.

With a resigned sigh you unlock the phone with half a mind to leave him on read. But curiosity got the better of you, and you tapped the notification.

A message popped up almost instantly.

Gojo: Saw you at the library today. Looking cute, as usual.

You couldn’t help the soft scoff that escaped you. Another message followed quickly after:

Gojo: We should hang sometime. I know a place that does the best sushi. My treat.

He really wasn’t going to give up, was he? Your fingers hover over the keyboard before you shot back a quick response:

You: Not interested.

But as soon as you sent it, another message from him appeared—almost like he had been waiting for it.

Gojo: Lol, sure. You keep saying that, but I know you’ll come around ;)

You locked your phone with a huff, shoving it back into your bag as you continued your walk to the dorms.

It was irritating how effortlessly confident he was, like he already knew the outcome before you did. 

And the worst part? There was a tiny part of you—the smallest flicker—that couldn’t help but anticipate the next encounter.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

And yet it wasn’t just over text. No matter where you went, Gojo found a way to insert himself into your day.

Whether it was him casually appearing in the food court while you grabbed lunch or running into him on the way to class, he was everywhere.

Like today for example: you were sitting just outside the university center, enjoying a rare quiet moment between classes as you listened to music.

The peace didn’t last long.

Gojo dropped down into the seat beside you without a word, plucking one of your earbuds out of your ear before you had a chance to stop him.

“What’re we listening to today?” he asked, popping the earbud into his ear without waiting for permission. He nodded along to the song, grinning in that infuriatingly charming way. “Not bad. You’ve got taste.”

You snatched the earbud back with a glare. “Ever heard of boundaries?”

“Sure,” Gojo replied, leaning back casually, completely unfazed. “But where’s the fun in that?”

He was close—too close—and you could feel the heat radiating off him as he shifted in his seat, his knee brushing lightly against yours.

It sent a shiver up your spine, and you hated how he seemed to sense it.

“I’ve been meaning to ask...” His voice dropped slightly, almost conspiratorial. “I know you like Chanel right? I saw you eyeing that bag at the mall last week.”

You froze for a second, caught off guard. 

"How the hell you know that?" you asked, immediately suspicious. Had he followed you there?

You try to brush it off, muttering, "I was just lookin’. Ain’t got money for stuff like that."

Gojo flashed you a softer grin, one that almost looked genuine—if it wasn’t for the cocky undertone beneath it.

“Good thing you’ve got me then,” he said, voice smooth and tempting. “I could get it for you. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

You stared at him for a moment, the offer hanging in the air between you. You eyes hardened.

You weren’t some girl who could be bought off with expensive gifts. You weren’t like the girls who chased him at parties or slid into his DMs, hoping for a piece of his attention.

“No thanks,” you said sharply.. “I’m not one of those girls you can buy off, Gojo.”

For a brief moment his expression faltered. But just as quickly the mask of confidence slipped back into place.

“Didn’t say you were. Just offering.,” he replied, that playful edge returning to his tone. “Doesn’t hurt to spoil someone every now and then, right?”

You turn away refusing to engage any further. Though you couldn't stop the flutter in your chest, heart beating a little too fast for your liking.

There was a small part of you—the part that liked nice things and had never really been able to afford them—that was tempted.

But you knew better. You weren’t going to fall for it.

You had worked too hard for everything in your life to let someone like Gojo sweep in and make you forget who you were.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

You were in the library one afternoon, hunched over your notes trying to finish an assignment when you felt a familiar presence looming over you.

Without even looking up you sighed. “I already told you, I’m not interested.”

Gojo chuckled as he slid into the chair across from you, completely ignoring your dismissal. “You keep saying that, but you’re still talking to me.”

You sent a glare. He wasn’t wrong—you hadn’t exactly cut him off.

Despite your best efforts, Gojo managed to worm his way into your life. And the worst part?

A tiny part of you was starting to enjoy it.

"Maybe I'm just waiting for you to get bored and move on," you shot back lacking the conviction you wanted.

Gojo's eyes glinted with amusement. "Bored? With you? Nah, you're different." he said after a moment, his voice quieter. "I like that about you."

For a second you were caught off guard. But you didn't have time to dwell on it.

Because just as quickly, he was back to his usual self, winking as he leaned back.

“Don’t worry,” he added, his voice laced with playful confidence. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You weren’t sure if you wanted him to.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived; music pounded through the packed house as people danced, drank, and shouted over the blaring bass.

You had been invited by Geto, the calm and collected male becoming more of a close friend than just a project partner.

Despite the promise you made to yourself to avoid parties like this, you figured it would be a nice way to let loose for once. Finals were near and honestly, you needed the distraction.

You had been doing a pretty good job of avoiding Gojo for the past few days. His persistent flirting, his smug confidence—it was all too much.

But tonight wasn’t about him. Tonight you were determined to just have a good time.

It didn’t take long for you to fall into the rhythm of the party.

You found yourself chatting with a guy you vaguely recognized from one of your classes away from the chaos of the dance floor.

He was cute—nice smile, easygoing—and for once, you let yourself enjoy the conversation.

Just as you started relax you caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye. It was subtle at first, but enough to make you pause.

And then, there he was—Gojo Satoru.

He spotted you almost immediately, those familiar blue eyes locking onto you through the crowd.

His expression was unreadable for a moment, but as soon as he saw the guy standing next to you, his jaw tightened just slightly.

He didn’t bother hiding his irritation, but the way he handled it threw you off. Instead of marching over, Gojo leaned against the wall across the room, watching.

The beat of Skilla Baby's Mama thumped through the speakers, the lyrics booming across the house. As the chorus hit, Gojo’s eyes never left yours.

He didn’t approach yet, but his gaze was electric.

And when the lyrics came—“Yeah, I heard you got a man, but it's alright, mama (alright),”—he gave a nod, almost as if confirming what you already knew.

He tilted his head back slightly, mouthing the words to the chorus: “Bae, you know you the coldest.”

You felt heat creep up your neck in response. Gojo didn’t have to say anything—his meaning was clear. He wasn’t just here to win you over anymore.

He was here to make sure you understood no one else could compete with him. No one else could treat you like he could.

And that’s when he started moving.

Without missing a beat, Gojo strolled through the crowd like he owned the place (in a way he kind of did), making a beeline for you. 

The guy you’d been talking to didn’t even notice, but you sure did. The closer Gojo got, the more the tension thickened until it felt like you were holding your breath.

You hated how your body reacted to his presence, the way your pulse quickened the second he was close.

“Hey,” he greeted, smooth as ever  with an edge to it that wasn’t there before. He didn’t even spare the other guy a glance, all his focus on you. “Enjoying the party?”

Your grip tightened around your drink in attempt to steady yourself. “Yeah, I was.” 

Gojo’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he glanced at the guy again, finally acknowledging him.

“Sure, but...” He leaned in. “C’mon, you really gonna waste time with him when you know I could treat you right?”

You didn’t look at him right away, hoping the guy next to you would step back in and restart the conversation. But it was too late.

Gojo’s presence had already made him uncomfortable. And before you knew it, the guy mumbled about getting another drink before disappearing into the crowd.

You shot him a look. “Really?”

Gojo just shrugged, the faintest smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “What? You seemed bored. Figured I’d help you out.”

“You mean chase him off?”

He stepped closer, and this time, there was no one between you.

“C’mon,” Gojo murmured. “You know he wasn’t your type.” His voice was low, but not in that typical teasing tone.

This time, there was something else—something more serious.

Your heart thudded as his words lingered in the air. The bass-heavy song continued to pulse through the room, but it felt like the rest of the party had melted away.

It was just you and Gojo now, the tension building with every passing second. And he knew it.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to prove,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest, though it was more to stop yourself from reaching out than anything else. “I’m not interested in being some kind of prize for you to win.”

Gojo’s expression softened, though his eyes still held that playful glint.

He stepped even closer, his voice dropping just above a whisper. “I’m not trying to win a prize. I’m trying to get to know you.”

You blinked at the sudden shift in his tone. It wasn’t like him to be this direct.

“I don’t believe you,” you said, though your voice lacked the bite you wanted it to have.

Gojo’s gaze softened even more, and he reached out, fingers brushing against your arm.

“I get it. You think I’m just here flirting. But you’re different, and I...” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I like that you make me work for it.”

Your breath caught, the sincerity in his voice catching you completely off guard.

Gojo Satoru, the guy who never had to try for anything, was standing here before you, confessing he was willing to put in the effort.

The weight of it settled over you as you began to see him differently—not just as the arrogant flirt, but as someone who was starting to care.

He must’ve seen the hesitation in your eyes because he smiled softly, the cockiness from earlier melting into something warmer.

“Look, I know I can be... a lot.” He chuckled with a nervous scratch at the back of his neck. “But I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m serious about you.”

The music continued to thump around you, but it felt distant now. You weren’t sure what to say.

Part of you wanted to believe him. But the other part—the one that had built walls around itself—was still afraid to let him in.

“Look...you wanna get out of here?” he didn’t sound as flippant as usual. “I can walk you home.”

Though you were unsure, the way he was looking at you right now that told you this wasn’t about a quick fling or proving a point.

For once, Gojo wasn’t trying to win. He was just trying.

You nodded before you could stop yourself. “Okay.”

*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*

The walk back to your place was quiet, the night air cool against your skin as the sounds of the party faded into the distance.

Gojo stayed close, but not too close, his usual bravado tempered.

Every now and then his shoulder would brush against yours, and the touch was grounding, almost reassuring.

For once he wasn’t trying to impress you with flashy words or grand gestures. He was just there, walking next to you in comfortable silence.

When you finally reached your door you expected some kind of last-minute line, flirty and smooth to cap off the night. But Gojo surprised you.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he began, leaning against the doorframe as he looked down at you. “You’re different. You’re not like the others.”

You gave him a skeptical look, but he shook his head before you could say anything.

“I’m serious. I’ve never had to work this hard for anyone,” Gojo admitted. “And... I like that. You don’t care about any of the stuff most people do.”

There was a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. He was letting his guard down, just a little, but it was enough to make you pause.

You didn’t know what to say at first, the usual walls you’d built around yourself trembling.

“A-and I know you think I'm saying this just to get in your pants or whatever,” Gojo interrupts before you can say anything, “but... it’s more than that. I like you. For real.”

You looked at him, really looked at him.

There was something real beneath it all and it scared you a little, because part of you had already started to fall for him—no matter how much you tried to fight it.

So instead of pulling away, you stepped closer.

“I’m still not convinced,” you say with a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “But...maybe I’m willing to see where this goes.”

Gojo’s grin returned in full force, eyes lighting up with hope as he nodded. “That’s all I ask.”

He turned to leave, but before he did, he glanced back over his shoulder, playful grin returning. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through your chest. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you.”

The next morning, as you left class, you weren’t surprised to see Gojo standing outside with a smile.

Without a word, he fell in step beside you and handed over a cup of [beverage].

It wasn’t extravagant or flashy, just a simple cup of [beverage]—was exactly how you liked it.

You raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip. “This is new.”

Gojo shrugged, his smile easy and warm. “Told you I’d convince you.”

You shook your head. Maybe, just maybe, Gojo Satoru wasn’t so bad after all.

And for the first time, you let yourself smile back.

[hyuckiefluff]

drunk in you pt.2 | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers word count: 3.1k a/n: i meant to post this sooner but a whole week ended up going by without me realizing lol thank u for liking part 1 thoo content: semi-public sex (they’re in the living room of a shared apartment so), dry humping, usage of pet names like doll and baby, mark also calls reader a slut (this was self-indulgent hehe), oral (fem receiving), creampie, a fair amount of ass grabbing/slapping cuz mark is an ass guy in my head :))!! edit: it’s not even in my head anymore go watch his mommae challenge and tell me im not right

part 1

Life is funny in sick ways, because just a few minutes ago you were thinking about how badly you wanted to ride your best friend’s thighs but now that you were actually in a position to do so you couldn’t move. You were just straddling him, not even sure where to put your arms and shifting minimally scared that any movement against him could reveal how pathetically wet you were right now. I mean he had barely spoken a few words to you and you were putty in his hands, ready to give him anything that he asked for. So, why isn't he asking? Why isn't he doing something? He's the one who-...

Your train of thought came to an abrupt halt when his hands slid under your dress, grabbing a handful of your ass. A surprised yelp escaped your lips, almost sounding like a moan, and he seemed to like your reaction as he pressed his lips together to suppress a grin. Then he experimentally thrusted upwards, his hands keeping a firm grip on your ass, leaving no space between your clothed cores.

He took in your fucked out expression after every thrust as an invitation to keep doing it "M-mark…" you moaned, your nails practically carving into his shoulders.

Your head hung low, your hair acting like a curtain, blocking Mark's view from your flushed face. And he was not having it. He wanted to see you, he wanted to remember every little detail of you like this. So he grabbed a handful of your hair and gave it a gentle pull, making you lift your head. That put your neck in his line of sight, like a blank canvas he was ready to mark with his lips, leaving purples and reds behind.

He immediately latched his mouth on the space between your neck and clavicle, each kiss, bite and suck coaxing delicious moans from your throat, “F-fuck, keep…keep doing that” you managed to breathe out, your hands finding their way to his head. You attempted to grip his hair, but his haircut left you with little to grab onto. But that didn't stop you from trying, and he seemed to like it because as soon as you tugged, he groaned against your neck and sucked harder on a particular spot that sent tremors through your legs.

You were so focused on how good his mouth felt all over your skin that you completely missed the way his hand slid inside your panties. The sudden feeling of his fingers touching your folds making your brain short-circuit. So much so that you almost missed the words he whispered into your ear, “You’re already this wet just from a little teasing,” he tutted. 

His finger emerged from your panties, glistening with your arousal. That was a sight that would have embarrassed you under different circumstances but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that, not when he brought his finger to his lips and licked every drop of your essence off it all while making eye contact. A whimper got caught in your throat as you watched, captivated by the way he tasted you.

"How will it feel when I fuck you for real then, hm?" 

Your thighs instinctively tightened against his after those words left his mouth. A reaction that wasn't lost on him. His flushed face sported an even cockier smirk now, "You'd like that huh?" he quipped, extending the finger he'd just licked toward your mouth. Without hesitation, you took it in, not caring about the mingling of his saliva with yours.

"But here's the thing," he continued, "You've gotta ask for it."

You were having a hard time paying attention to what he was saying. Your brain being more focused on his finger abusing your mouth and the subtle but persistent thrust of his hips against yours. His words seemed like distant echoes, drowned out by the sensations wrapping around you. That is, until a sudden slap against your bare ass jolted you back to reality. His voice was low and commanding, "Ask me to fuck you, doll."

His gaze bore into you, intense and almost predatory, "Please… fuck me, Mark," the plea slipped from your lips easily and before you could fully process your own words, he was lifting you up.  You expected him to take you to his room upstairs, but instead, he started walking right up to the big couch in front. 

Certainly he wasn’t planning to fuck you in the middle of the living room, where any of the boys could just walk in on the scene, right? Your hazy brain couldn't even remember if Jaemin had gone back to his room. The last you knew, he had been somewhere near the kitchen, possibly passed out. But if he were to walk in here and…

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by Mark lowering you onto the couch and immediately discarding your soaked panties. He spread your legs a little bit more and made eye contact with you right before his head was disappearing between your legs. Things were moving so fast but you couldn't bring yourself to think about the consequences of doing this right now when it felt so damn good.

The heat pulling in your lower stomach intensified as he used his nose to nudge against your entrance and with one swift move of his tongue against your core he had you losing your mind.

“Oh.. god-.. Mark… fuck…that feels so-” you tried to voice the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you but your words broke into fragmented moans and gasps.

Your fingers clenched in a tight grip on his short hair, urging him further against your core. You were so desperate and it was embarrassingly obvious. But you felt his chuckles resonate against your core, so he clearly found it amusing. His tongue danced and explored every sweet spot slowly, making you see sounds and hear colors. But, it wasn't enough. The ache inside you demanded more.

Your need for him to fuck you into tomorrow was almost unbearable.

"Mark…" you called out to him, but it seemed he was too focused on eating you out to hear you. His own desperation was also palpable, clear by the way his hips rutted against the couch. His fingers joined his tongue sliding inside you one by one. The simultaneous ministrations threatened to push you over the edge. If he kept up this pace, you would definitely cum all over his face.

His gaze locked onto yours immediately as he pulled away from your core. The sight of his swollen lips glistening with your arousal, and his hair sticking to his forehead leaving you with an image that would replay in your head for many nights to come.

"Are you close, doll?" his focus on your reactions intensified as he coaxed you, "Aw, look at your pretty fucked out face, cum for me, okay baby?"

His words and the relentless pumping of his fingers were enough to bring you over the edge of an explosive orgasm “Oh my go-," you moaned, your voice a chorus of curses mingled with his name.

This was the first time in your life you’d actually orgasmed after being asked to. His tongue wasn’t just good at eating your pussy, he was also good with words. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. But before you could fully recover, Mark grabbed your legs and quickly flipped you onto your stomach. Your dress was hiked up, baring your ass to him. Another firm slap echoed through the room, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed the hunger in his eyes as he looked over your curves, a satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you confirmed that Mark was very much an ass guy– Haechan owes you $10.

“Can’t believe my best friend is about to blow my back out," you muttered with an amused grin, the words directed more to yourself. However, Mark's snort indicated that he heard you loud and clear. "This is quite the bonding experience, don’t you think?," he said playfully and the boyish smile on his face didn’t quite match his actions. He pulled his dick out in one swift move and you felt almost embarrassed at how your mouth watered upon seeing his length and girth. You’re so glad he prepped you with his fingers before, otherwise you don’t think you could take all of him.

“What’s wrong? Never seen one this big?” you rolled your eyes. This was a side of Mark you hadn't seen before – this level of cockiness – but given what he was packing, you guess he had every right to flaunt it.

“How about you shut up and fuck me?” 

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” he seized your hips and gave them a teasing squeeze as he positioned himself at your entrance.

"Wait, shit"  he cursed under his breath, and you turned on time to see him run a hand frustratedly across his face "I don't have a condom,"

You grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward you. "I'll take the morning-after pill, just please, fuck me already.” the man didn’t need much convincing because before you knew it, he was gradually pushing himself inside you. 

The room echoed with his grunts and muffled moans as he pushed deeper inside. You struggled to stifle your own cries, but his generous stretch brought tears to your eyes, and your lip was surely going to bruise from the excessive biting.

"Shit... doll... you're... you're squeezing me so hard," he grunted, his fingers digging into your waist with a grip that promised to leave marks. Once he bottomed out, his hold on you relaxed. After the initial discomfort passed, you found yourself moaning at the intoxicating sensation of being filled completely. He gave you a brief moment to adapt to his size, peppering your backside with kisses before seeking your consent to move. And only after a strained "Please" escaped your lips, he started moving.

Though he started slow, his thrusts were anything but soft. The explicit sounds of your sticky bodies colliding filled the air, almost scandalously loud, and you couldn't help but wonder if the other guys could hear it from their rooms. It was almost as if Mark could read your mind, because he took hold of your jaw and drew you flush against his body. The change in position momentarily stifled your moans. “If you keep being this loud, the guys will surely hear how good I’m fucking you right now…” he bit your lower lip, drawing a weak whimper from you.

“But maybe that's what you want, huh? You like the idea of them hearing?… hmm.. Look how nicely you're clenching around me after I put that thought in your pretty, twisted mind.” He thrusted hard against you, this new position putting extra pressure on your muscles and you felt like you might collapse any second, but Mark was so in tune with your body language that he noticed this and swiftly flipped you over again. 

Now face to face, you had an unobstructed view of Mark Lee thrusting into you. A faint furrow adorned his forehead, and his flushed complexion extended from his neck to his cheeks. It also struck you that he had taken off his shirt somewhere along the way, exposing the expanse of his soft skin. Seizing the opportunity, your hands roamed freely across his torso, fingers tracing the contours you'd always secretly admired. You wanted to kiss it and bite it, and what was stopping you? You pulled Mark closer to you by his necklace and this sudden closeness seemed to have caught him off guard because his pace faltered a bit, you took this chance to start leaving a trail of kisses on his chest and collarbones. The soft moans he emitted as your lips grazed his skin were almost enough to send you over the edge once more. Your erratic pace was matching his unhurried thrusts as your hips met in the middle. In response, he snatched one of your legs, hoisting it onto his shoulder to penetrate even deeper.

“Shi–... you feel so, so fucking good, doll.” Mark groaned against your ear. Your eyes met as you tried to pull him impossibly closer by the hips, and at that moment you wished that eyes could talk because he was looking at you in a way he never had before. Good sex did funny things to people, you were probably his favorite person right now, if the way he was smiling like an idiot was any indication. 

“Wha..what?” you asked, trying to match his smile but the way he kept hitting that specific spot had your expressions morphing in pleasure. “Be honest… how-..fuck... how long have you wanted me to fuck you?” he said, his eyes shifting from yours to the point where your bodies joined, the sight of his dick pumping in and out of you enough to make him want to go crazy.

"T-this isn’t the time for that," you managed to say, your head lolling back until it met the plush surface of the couch behind you.

“You know…you could’ve just told me earlier… cause now I regret not fucking you before,” he confessed, his words punctuated by the exertion in his voice. Without waiting for your response, he bunched up your dress, exposing your chest. His eyes lit up as they fell upon your naked breasts, and a satisfied "Knew it" slipped from his lips. 

"Wearing that flimsy dress and no bra… did you really think I wouldn't notice?" he tutted while cupping your breast. The cool touch against your warm skin made you release an involuntary moan "You think the boys didn’t notice?" he chuckled bitterly and took one of your nipples between his forefingers, his gaze unflinching as he watched your mouth fall open in response. 

"But this was for me, wasn't it? All that innocent act in front of them, while secretly wanting me to fuck you so bad.” you whimpered in response, unable to respond or deny what he was saying because it was in part true.

“You were practically drooling at the thought of me touching you like this," he grunted and suddenly took that same nipple into his mouth, alternating between nibbling and sucking. “M-Mark, oh my go–...” The words were cut short when he began to thrust into you harder, his hips meeting yours more desperately now.

He pulled away from your breast slightly to whisper a stream of dirty nothings against your skin. You only caught the words little slut and the surprise of such a term rolling off his tongue only served to turn you on even more. Your walls instinctively tightened around him, a reaction that had him sucking your nipple even harder. 

“Shit… If you-…if you keep squeezing me so hard… I’m gonna-“ he could barely speak, his words being lost between every thrust and the feeling of your pussy taking him so well.

Mark was pretty damn sure he'd never been this pussy drunk before. He was even fighting to hold off his own orgasm just so he could bask a bit longer on how your walls were deliciously clenching around him. And oh, the view. You sprawled beneath him, disheveled yet so beautiful. Your flushed cheeks and lips, slightly swollen from your own nibbling. Bangs pushed back from your face revealing those pretty eyes that struggled to stay fixed on his. They rolled with pleasure every time he found that sweet spot. And he couldn't ignore how your tongue darted out every now and then to moisten your lips, tempting him to bridge the gap between your mouths.

“Mark.. I—I’m c…I’m cumming,” you said, grabbing onto his neck for support.

 "Me too, ah... wh-where do you want it?" he managed to ask between ragged breaths, his wide eyes strangely innocent amid the frenetic rhythm of his thrusts.

“Inside,” you said, and a glint of something flashed through his eyes. 

All of a sudden he closed the gap between your faces, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that matched the intensity of his thrusts. It stole your breath quicker than you'd care to admit. His tongue asserted itself without hesitation, as if it already knew the contours of your mouth intimately. You nipped at his lower lip juts like he did to you earlier, catching him off guard. To this, he let out a guttural whimper that would definitely linger in your mind for days to come. Mark's moans had a mix of whininess and a deep resonance that struck you at your core and you wanted to hear more of it so you kept kissing him hard. His moans became your own as your kiss deepened.

Your orgasm came first, your cries muffled by Mark's mouth. He followed suit not long after, his thrusts growing sloppier. Then, he stopped completely and you felt him filling you to a brim. You both looked down at the same time to see the messy evidence of both of your releases mixing. You immediately regretted doing this on the couch when he pulled out from you and the sticky mess spilled out of you. 

But you decided that would be a problem for your sober self to deal with later.

~~

Sober you wasn't exactly managing the situation well.

Waking up after having drunk sex with your best friend in the living room of the dorm he shared with your 6 other best friends didn’t turn out to be the chill moment you thought it would be. 

And the way his hand was casually resting on your ass, coupled with the feeling that you'd been run over by a truck about twenty seven times, certainly didn't contribute to improving your state.

You reach over to his side and grab the cushions under his head. Then, you give his body a careful nudge, turning him around slightly which oddly enough doesn’t even make him stir a little. You climb on top of him, pressing the cushion down on his face just enough to jolt him awake, without actually cutting off his air supply. His arms flail in confusion for a solid five seconds before you lift the cushion, revealing a bewildered yet still half-asleep Mark.

"What the…" was his initial reaction, though it took him a moment more to fully register the scene– you sitting on top of him, only a cushion covering your nakedness. “…fuck”

"Yeah, exactly, what the fuck," you gesture between the two of you, highlighting the rather interesting scenario.

A few seconds of just silently staring at each other went by while you could see in his eyes that he was trying to come up with what to say now.

"Uh… wanna go again?" he joked, and you respond with a playful pillow thwack, prompting a chuckle from him.

"Just kidding!"

a/n: after editing this i realized how many times i wrote the word ass and i feel ashamed lol... also the ending is kinda bleh cuz i genuinely dunno how to end my fics but i hope yall liked this! let me know in the comments how it was! xx

part 1

© hyuckiefluff

[anistarrose]

I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide

[Plain text: "I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide." End plain text.]

While every image posted online should be accessible in an ideal world, we all know it 1) takes time to learn how to write image descriptions, and 2) is easy to run out of spoons with which to write IDs. And this says nothing of disabilities that make writing them more challenging, if not impossible — especially if you're a person who benefits from IDs yourself.

There are resources for learning how to write them (and if you already know the basics, I'd like to highlight this good advice for avoiding burnout) — but for anyone who cannot write IDs on their original posts at any current or future moment, for any reason, then there are two good options for posting on Tumblr.

1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord

[Plain text: "1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord". End plain text.]

The People's Accessibility Discord is a community that volunteers description-writing (and transcript-writing, translation, etc) for people who can't do so themselves, or feel overwhelmed trying to do so. Invite link here (please let me know if the link breaks!)

The way it works is simple: if you're planning to make an original post — posting art, for example — and don't know how to describe it, you can share the image there first with a request for a description, and someone will likely be able to volunteer one.

The clear upside here (other than being able to get multiple people's input, which is also nice) is that you can do this before making the Tumblr post. By having the description to include in your post from the start, you can guarantee that no inaccessible version of the post will be circulated.

You can also get opinions on whether a post needs to be tagged for flashing or eyestrain — just be able to spoiler tag the image or gif you're posting, if you think it might be a concern. (Also, refer here for info on how to word those tags.)

The server is very chill and focused on helping/answering questions, but if social anxiety is too much of a barrier to joining, or you can't use Discord for whatever reason, then you can instead do the following:

2. Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards

[Plain text: "Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards". End description.]

Myself and a lot of other people who describe posts on this site are extra happy to provide a description if OP asks for help with one! This does leave the post inaccessible at first, so to minimize the drawbacks, the best procedure for posting an image you can't fully describe would be as follows:

Create the tumblr post with the most bare-bones description you can manage, no matter how simple (something like "ID: fanart of X character from Y. End ID" or "ID: a watercolor painting. End ID," or literally whatever you can manage)

Use a tool like Google Lens or OCR to extract text if applicable and if you have the energy, even if the text isn't a full image description (ideally also double-check the transcriptions, because they're not always perfect)

Write in the body of the post that you'd appreciate a more detailed description in the notes!

Tag the post as "undescribed" and/or "no id" only if you feel your current, bare-bones description is missing out on a lot of important context

When you post it and someone provides an ID, edit the ID into the original post (don't use read mores, italics, or small text)

Remove the undescribed tag, if applicable. If you're posting original art, you can even replace it with a tag like "accessible art" for visibility!

And congrats! You now have a described post that more people will be able to appreciate, and you should certainly feel free to self-reblog to give a boost to the new version!

[solbaby7]

I Dare You

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings:prolly some typos, kinda douchebag!cass but very minimal, sexual tension, swearing, mentions of drinking, (literally have any of you ever gone bull riding before? bc that shit is not for the weak)

summary: Cassian doesn’t think you’re capable of letting your hair down to have some fun. I dare you to prove him wrong.

—

Someone must’ve laced your drink.

They had to have.

It was the only logical explanation for the unusual feelings beginning to churn knots in your gut the longer you took in the handsome planes of Cassian’s face.

Usually, it was easier to overlook when you were sober, too off-put by his demeaning comments and endless sexual innuendos to truly focus on the sharp cut of his jaw or the stubble that resided there. The tempting plush of his bottom lip captures your focus, its glistening from the cheap beer overflowing his cup and the foreign thought of what they would felt like pressed against your own evades your senses.

You blame it on the ambiance.

This place was no Rita’s, not nearly as cozy or tucked away but something about the clubs hypnotic hues of rich purples and soft blues casting over Cassian’s cheeks had your head slowly tilting to the side in silent appreciation.

Had he always had that dimple when he smiled?

“Truth or dare?” Mor yells over the thumping music, effectively breaking you free from your trance and stealing your attention. A bright grin is plastered across her face induced by the empty shot glasses on the table before her.

Your head shakes on instinct, not nearly as prone to letting loose as the rest of the Inner Circle. The outfit alone was far enough out of your comfort zone as is, allowing Mor and Feyre to use you like a baby doll; curling your hair and applying makeup over excited giggles and shared bottles of bubbly. The borrowed fabric sticks to you like second skin, its halter neckline more comfortable than you’d care to admit and the cool breeze of passerby’s on your exposed back is welcome. The tight bodice blends seamlessly into the flowy skirt that tickles the middle of your thighs, showing off more leg than you usually cared to bare but it had looked too nice against your figure to complain. “I don’t really—“

“Don’t even bother,” Cassian interjects, a beer clutched in one hand while the other rested lazily on the back of the booth. “She always says no.”

“That’s not true.”

It was.

You blamed it on their High Lord’s inability to complete his paperwork and file them properly afterwards. When you’d first arrived, there had been centuries worth of paperwork strewn about his storage room in no true order with the subjects varying from treaties and common laws on trade routes to pages worth of detailed documentation dividing up ownership of land. Blueprints for potential and current properties with box after box of receipts kept to keep track of the billing it took to run such a place—much less a whole city.

Simply put, you’d been stuck in work-mode; refusing casual outings and generous offerings of chilled bottles shared over dinner for months until you’d finally made a dent sizable enough to satisfy you. There’s no point in bothering to explain any of that to Cassian though, biting your words over the rim of your glass and the burn on your tongue is soothed by the sweet mixer. “Oh really?” He goads, a cocky glint in golden eyes as he leans forward, shoulders straining in the dark cotton of his shirt . “Answer her then, truth or dare?”

There’s a long pause—one long enough for Rhysand to clear his throat, fully prepared to diffuse the situation but your voice cuts through before he can. “Dare.” It’s spoken stronger than you feel and you muster up the courage to meet his eye as if you hadn’t just been gobbling up the miles of endless muscle packed onto his body.

“I dare you to let loose for once in your boring little life.” Feyre scoffs her disapproval at his wording, a hand smacking at Cassian’s arm but he doesn’t react as if he can even feel it. He’s utterly fixated on you, body language lax and still somehow emitting such a domineering presence it makes your feet shift in high heels. “Unless you’re too prude to even let your hair down?”

A brow arches and you ignore the burn creeping up your neck at the looks your friends are sharing, clearly having a mental conversation on who was going to have to intervene this time. Saving them the trouble, you comply. “Fine.” You’re too occupied in chugging the remnants of your drink to notice the surprised expression crossing the General’s face. He doesn’t miss you though, witnessing a mischievous darkness clouding your eye before you rise from the booth and squeeze through the endless sea of bodies.

“I don’t understand your problem with her,” Mor grumbles with distaste, a hand outstretching for the latest round of drinks being provided by the waiter. “She’s nice.”

“She’s boring,” Cassian promptly retorts, eyes sifting over the crowd in search for a flash of your dusky red dress but it’s nowhere to be found. His spine straightens ever so slightly, the grip on his glass tightening in his silent surveillance for you. “When you said you were hiring a female who’d be around so often that she’d be living with us, I hoped she’d be more…eventful.”

“Is that truly your reasoning, brother?” Rhys drawls out playfully, tugging his mate in closer to his side. A glass of whiskey is in his free hand, tilting the bottom of it tauntingly in Cassian’s direction as he pretends to ponder. “Or maybe it’s because you keep antagonizing her in hopes that she’ll notice you and yet she barely gives you anything back in return? Her passiveness must eat you up at night.”

It earns the High Lord a few laughs and even Azriel can’t hide the amused upturn of his mouth at Cassian’s expense but the Lord of Bloodshed can’t even begin to be bothered with that.

Not when his sights finally land on that sinful shade of red gripping at the curves contained within them. Cassian can’t even hear his family anymore, eardrums tuning out everything that wasn’t you as he watches the way you lean in towards one of the nicely dressed workers with a smile. The exchange is quick but Cassian doesn’t miss a thing, noting the challenging quirk of the males brow and he leads you behind a thick curtain that sectioned off a portion of the bar he hadn’t even noticed until now.

Words can’t describe the way losing his visual on you makes his skin itch, wings twitching with his irritation and the tense line of his shoulders doesn’t release for even a second. A plethora of thoughts plague Cassian’s mind. Surely you hadn’t taken his jest as an invitation to go be with some other male? Even if it would’ve been well within your right it was the furthest from his intentions.

“Run out of witty remarks?” Rhysand prods further, voice full of humor but there’s a hint of serious questioning lingering in his eye. “Or have I stunned you to complete silence?”

Feyre catches on quicker than her counterpart, following Cassian’s line of sight, watching as the same curtains you’d disappeared behind starts beginning to rise, a thundering chime ringing through the bar. “I don’t think it’s you who has him speechless.”

The others follow her gaze and quiet fascination sets root when more space is revealed. Situated right in the middle of the newly revealed stage is what seems to be the magical apparition of a fake bull, complete with horns and a nose that huffed out smoke. It’s one hell of a spectacle that has the inebriated crowd cheering with joy at the promise of such extravagant entertainment. “Trouble is in the house tonight. Let’s welcome her warmly.” The male announces, guiding you into the light and spinning you around for all to take in.

Cassian’s teeth grit together, disturbingly aware of every eye and muttered comment directed your way and his fingers twitch for the familiar weight of his sword. “No way...” He whispers in complete disbelief as you approach the bull with a practiced ease, hoisting yourself on its back with the swipe of your leg.

The motion is fluid, thighs shifting to get situated and the new position hikes up the hem of your dress. All the bare skin that is revealed makes his mouth water, elbows leaning against the table to brace himself.

Your gaze finds Cassian’s easily in the crowd, a devious smirk forms in the corner of your mouth and the wink you send his way has his cock twitching to life in his breeches.

Music flows through the space—a sensual tempo with a bass so deep it rattles the very blood in your body. There’s no explaining why you find such a comfort in it but you submit to the numbness it provides anyway, relishing in the absence of thought as you melt into the beat.

One hand latches securely around the saddle and the well-dressed employee begins his skilled control of the bull. It’s a slow rock, movements mechanical and jerky but you make it look graceful—hips shifting back and forth over and over as the speed increases. You barely look up, too caught up in synchronizing your body with the music, spurred on by the generous cheers from the other drunken fae with energy to burn and coins to spend.

Faster and faster the bull rocks, spinning you from left to right but your remain saddled in place, core strong and thighs braced for the chaotic jostling. Haughty whistles cut through the crowd when the bull abruptly tips forward, shifting the fabrics of your dress until you were face down, ass up and flashing the lacy boy shorts you had on underneath. “Come on,” You whine prettily to the male in control of the mechanism, hair spilling to one side of your face and a pretty blush fans across your cheeks at the salacious exposure. “That all you got?”

“Hold on tight.”

You’re grateful for obtaining the good sense it takes to heed the warning because in an instant the bull is jerking back to life, spinning and rocking in an attempt to shake you off. Jubilant laughter pelts free, hair blowing in the wind and dress flashing more of the soft skin that Cassian was just dying to get his fill of.

He’s been bested—that much the Commander can admit but it doesn’t feel like a loss when you feed his filthy fantasies without even trying. The roll of your waist will surely plague his dreams but the effortlessly seductive glint in your eye will haunt him to his dying breath.

It doesn’t dissipate. Not even when you finally tap out, easing yourself down on shaky legs and shuffle back to the shared booth with a breathy huff.

A peachy sheen has overtaken your cheeks at the bewildered stares your friends give you for your performance but the mess of your curls splaying around your shoulders has Cassian’s heart racing when imagining the others ways he could put you in such a state.

The others watch in complete silence as you steal the beer right from Cassian’s hands, cool condensation dripping down your fingers but you pay it no mind. “It seems that I am plenty of fun to be around,” He watches the slow roll of your throat as you swallow, unable to look away. “But that’s usually reserved for after hours.”

Cassian’s gaze darkens under the implication, lids heavy with desire. “Noted.”

[reds-writings]

rust cohle headcanons

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: here's some more rust brain rot on my behalf <3 feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: implications of sex, light cursing, etc. let me know if i missed anything! (minors shoo!)

word count: roughly 1k

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adding to the headcanon floating around of him being an acts of service type man through and through. yes, he can go on neverending tangents but sometimes words about his more sentimental/mushy feelings are better demonstrated by him being at your near beck and call whenever you’re in need

you don’t even have to directly ask him to do anything. it’s more like if you were to mention offhand that something in your car didn’t sound right or your fence needed some redoing they’d find themselves fixed within the coming days without so much as another word 

that man is crafty and i cannot be convinced otherwise! the little beer can people he made are just a small example of what he can do with his hands. one day in town you saw a beautiful chestnut dining table but it was just a tad out of your price range so you figured you’d save up a little more for it and get it the next time you stopped by 

rust had some downtime (more like made downtime during his bouts of extreme insomnia) and got to building. it was a while after and by that time you had long forgotten about the table you saw until one day you got home from work only to find an ornately designed table in your dining room. it was a bit different than the one you’d spotted at the shop but no less beautiful. in fact it was even more gorgeous with its polished shine and intricate details 

you had searched for a note or maybe even a sign left anywhere of the maker that it came from to then spot a neatly carved ‘RC’ underneath one of the tabletop’s lefthand corners 

your fingers grazed over the simple set of initials as your brain damn near short-circuited at the fact that this man built you a damn table. with his bare hands. rust cohle saw that you liked a table and decided to just make it himself

you’d made your way to the receiver on your wall after snapping out of your disbelief and rang him up

“You built me a table.” You said it more as a statement than a question instead of a normal greeting.

“I did.” His tone held no sense of pride or smugness at your shock. As if this were no big deal at all.

“You built me a table. When did you have time to build me a whole table? In fact, when’d you start bein’ able make tables in the first place-”

“D’ya like it?” He interjected in that lackadaisical way of his and you paused. 

“...I love it.” 

“Good.” 

“Well, I guess then it’d only be fair for me to invite you over for dinner so that we may put this lovely new table to good use. As thanks of course.” 

You heard him huff in fond amusement on the other line, “Yes, ma’am.” 

y’all put that table to good use alright 

he’s more of a grappler than a cuddler when it comes to sharing a bed

he holds you as if in need of tethering himself. it was as if he were to let go somehow this wouldn’t be real and your presence would flit away should he loosen his grip at any given moment 

if you get too hot in the night any point of minimal contact was still initiated like tangling your foot with his or linking pinkies just so he knew you were nearby (this happens longer down the line in your relationship when he feels a bit more comfortable having someone in his space a bit more constantly) 

quality time together isn’t necessarily always spent doing something totally stimulating or exciting 

it could be as simple as cooking dinner together or curling up on your sofa while he reads and you watch something soapy on television 

he’s a very private man so going out to do something super couple-y isn’t really up his alley. he won’t really ever deny you if you wanted to really switch it up and go to places like bars, the movies, fancy restaurants, etc. he’d just find himself more reserved in more public spaces but no less completely and utterly focused on you

he’s not much of a dancer but don’t get it twisted. his ass can dance. the man is from Texas so you best believe he has more than a few line-dancing routines ingrained in the depths of his mind

on the very few occasions you’ve gotten him to agree to dance with you when you’re out you nearly laugh every time with how seriously he takes it 

you find yourself cooking food for him often. not that he ever expects it of you but living off of cigarettes and beer can only do so much for a guy. he genuinely forgets that his body needs a meal when he gets all caught up in his work (you don’t bother nagging at him much because he’s grown and more stubborn than anything at times) 

if you aren’t available to check in on him you’re not above making Marty grab something for him when they’re stuck at work 

any kiss he gives you is not one made in passing. anything rust does has some level of deep intent behind it but he never kisses you or says ‘i love you’ out of routine or empty habit

he’s a deeply feeling guy and a lot more handsier the longer you’re together (usually still only in the privacy of your own home). it goes back to just having to feel tethered or connected to you! it comforts the more broken/scared bits of him knowing that you’re just there and present and real

his synesthesia can make things overwhelmingly intense so sometimes when you’re out or after certain activities he finds himself in need of longer moments to himself (which you never take personally) 

in less serious moments you find yourself asking him the dumbest questions you can about smelling colors or tasting places 

“So does that mean Marty’s got a taste to him? You've tasted your coworker?” You snickered as you lay beneath the weeping willow in your front yard with him.

“It don’t work like that.” He said around the unlit cigarette in this mouth, tone sounding as if he were entertaining a silly child. 

“Nuh-uh! You said somethin’ awhile back about my presence tastin’ like jasmine and clementines or somethin’-”

“Drop it.”

You poked your tongue in your cheek trying not to giggle. 

“I bet you Marty tastes like stale coffee and I dunno…regret-” You snapped out a surprised laugh as you felt a quick pinch on your side.