#might have sunburn who knows

[elprupneerg]

Starting to realize that my girlfriend, who likes to research lots of different random things as a hobby, probably hasn’t done that about my lupus

[ak319]

Yan Socialite brother x reader

Ezra Alvarez , your younger brother, has always been your number one supporter. From a young age, he was taught that tradition dictated the older sibling would inherit the business and the farms—essentially, everything. This meant all the power would eventually be in your hands. But Ezra wasn’t a moneygrubber seeking favor, he genuinely admired your intelligence, strength, and the way you cared for the family, especially him. From the moment he gained consciousness, he aimed to be your best friend and sole confidant. He longed to be the person you turned to for counsel, and slowly but surely, things were unfolding just as he wanted.

Let's start from the beginning. Ezra and you were quite different in many ways, largely due to the contrasting upbringings you had. For example, while you cherished solitude and indulged in expensive hobbies like horseback riding, archery, and swordsmanship within the privacy of your estate, not to mention almost always busy learning and handling the business with your father. On the other hand, Ezra thrived in social settings. As a fashion designer, it was his job to attend lavish parties and stay connected with the latest trends. However, his socializing had a deeper purpose, to monitor the people in high circles and gauge their intentions toward his family, especially you.

Ezra was always vigilant, keeping tabs on potential rivals and meticulously recording this information. He made sure you were aware of everything you needed to know, and thanks to his discreet tactics, you were advancing. The way he giggled looking up at you when you patted his head in praise was endearing, if he were a puppy, his tail would surely have been wagging.

Ezra would do anything for his older sister because you're the best sister in the world! Despite being used to receiving expensive trinkets, he always gets teary-eyed when you gift him something special. Given your usually stoic and aloof demeanor, he can't help but cry tears of joy when you show him affection and smile at him. He ceaselessly rambles on about his latest projects and clothing line while you sit there, reading a book and nodding along, often clueless about what he’s saying. Yet, he still cherishes these moments because it’s only HIS sister who takes time out of her busy schedule for HIM. How could he not be grateful? That would be a crime. No other sister would ever do this for their brother! Anyway, back to designing some jockey apparels for you. You really need new ones.

As much as he dislikes your boisterous hobbies, he uses them as an excuse to spend time with you. He eagerly asks you to teach him, no matter how dirty his nails or clothes get, or how much he might risk getting sunburned. Every bit of it is worth it when someone like you is his mentor.

Your parents reprimended you for spoiling your baby brother but you always shrugged it off saying "How can I not spoil my only baby brother?." That's right sister, I am and will be always your only brother. He always makes sure to pass a victorious smirk to his parents who could only sigh in defeat at both of you.

Whenever it rains, he remembers how you love the rain while he hates it because it's all muddy but on the other hand memories of him as a kid getting scared of the thunder and you holding him in your bed in your protective embrace always warms his heart. Maybe this is where the habit of cuddling you has developed. Even now when something in his life goes wrong or he is having a tantrum , only your the one who can calm him or otherwise he is crying screaming and complaining for days and yes this is a true incident , the whole estate was close to becoming deaf if you hadn't come back from your academy bringing some new jewels and his favourite pastries for him.

Speaking of the academy, Ezra had to swallow the urge to throw another tantrum or cling to your feet when the time came for you to leave for further studies. He knew you had to do this for your own sake and the future of your family business. So, instead, he became like a second mother to you, sending letters to make sure you weren’t skipping classes—even though he knew you weren’t that kind of a person. He frequently asked about your meals and sports activities, but the part he hated most was even thinking about you having a potential lover. God, he couldn’t help but crumple up the third letter when he wrote about it, but he had to know. The thought of being secondary in your life, in everything, terrified him. What if you brought home a gold digger?! That’s how he saw anyone who came close to you. They didn’t care about your personality or charm, they were after that KA-CHING! And him being one of your top prized assets, he wasn’t about to let that happen.

His heart however calmed down when you replied with a simple 'No' about the question. Yay! Whenever you came back from academy , he was even more excited than your parents, who always found his enthusiasm adorable. How he ran back and forth scolding the servants for not cleaning your room properly , not having your favourite dish up to notch like DO YOUR FUCKING JOBS PROPERLY! He wouldn't stop yapping when you sat for tea after dinner but no matter how much you were exhausted from your journey , you still listened to him.

As cunning, witty, and sophisticated he was, Ezra made mistakes too, and in his mind, the worst mistake was failing at a task you assigned him. He would cower under your anger, fully aware that he had messed up. He was still learning the ins and outs of the tedious household budget—something he would have to manage for you one day—but it was boring, okay? Numbers just weren’t his thing. Even if you scolded him, he always waited for your apology, which you offered in your own way—like taking him out to his favorite café or silently sharing a cup of tea in his room. Moments later, he’d be hugging you, petulantly whining about you getting angry at him. He hated how you chuckled at his childish attitude, but deep down, he loved it too.

Life was going well until, one day he received a letter that you were unable to attend father's funeral due to work back in the academy. He knew it was a lie , you WOULD NEVER abandon your family like this , even your mother was skeptical. But since there was no sign of you coming back, he handled his grieving mother and the arrangements himself as much as he was dying inside due to your absence. Where were you? They needed you. You were their head now. He was worried sick.

After the guests left , it was only his uncles and aunts who sat in the living room while he came down after putting his mother to sleep.

"Ezra, dear boy. You must be tired, but there is something we need to discuss with you." The words made his blood boil, and he fought the urge to slap the indifferent looks off his father’s brothers and sisters. He knew exactly why they were still here—they were nothing but vile, disgusting pieces of filth, circling like vultures after the family’s money. He had always seen the malicious intent in their eyes when they interacted with you, and it broke his heart how you treated them as family while they plotted to push you out of the way. But he kept up the façade of a nice, obedient nephew, knowing that it would be handy for a moment like this. Where were they when he was struggling to handle everything? They only arrived at the last minute for their sibling's funeral. His poor father had died surrounded by snakes. But he swore he would never let the same happen to you. He would never betray you, his blood, like these filthy excuses for humans.

He wanted to throw up as they offered their insincere condolences, but he remained firm. They inquired about your absence, talking shit about your cold behavior for not being there, and this was his cue to play his cards right. Slipping into his favorite role as the bimbo younger brother, he wept, agreeing with their criticisms, and even cursed you, despite how much it made his heart ache. Eventually, they began to open up, believing in the hate and jealousy he pretended to harbor for you. While they didn’t reveal your whereabouts, they made it clear they deemed you as an unworthy heiress. He fake-laughed through his tears, gaining their trust the best that he could. They even had the audacity to suggest dividing the property among themselves, without even considering his mother as the rightful owner of anything. Oh, they were going to be obliterated.

He then promised to hand them the papers during a party he was going to arrange that too in a ferry. Acting on the information you once gave him, he contacted some gunmen for emergencies, making the necessary arrangements. Oh what a sight it was to see the ferry filled with the corpses of his treacherous relatives. One of the assassin came and informed that they had you abducted and thrown into a mental asylum on your way back to the estate for the funeral. His mouth hung agape at the revelation, his whole body seething with fury, and without wasting a moment, he set out to bring you back. But not before ordering the ferry to be blown up in the middle of the sea. He cackled maniacally from the dock as he watched the explosion, then leaped onto the back of one of the hitmen like a kid, gleeful at the destruction of those who had wronged you.

Once you were back and grieved a bit which only lasted for a few moments before you had to take care of covering up the bloodshed your baby brother did. But at the end you did it and currently Ezra was beside you on the arm of the chair while you worked on your late father's study table , now yours. "You are not mad at me, are you?" He asked softly, voice almost breaking at the end.

"You did what had to be done. I would have done the same to anyone who came after my family like this," you said, hearing him sniffle beside you. You gently caressed his arm, your gaze still fixed on the parchment. "Don’t cry, you know how much I hate seeing you cry, Ezzy." You felt him lay his head on your shoulder, his soft brunette locks brushing against your ear.

"Thank you… I couldn’t fucking stand them anymore, doing such… such a horrendous thing to you."

He suddenly burst into giggles, his feet dangling. "But it was fun! You know, before his death, Uncle Auden wore that hideous yellow sack coat. I saw it through the binoculars—God, he looked like a penguin getting on the ferr-!"

"Ezra." Your warning tone almost made him flinch. "What did I tell you about speaking ill of the dead?"

"I think they deserve a pass." His pout was defiant yet playful, and you couldn’t help but smile. His laughter was light, a contrast to the heaviness of this week.

He couldn't be more blissful than this. You looked as if you were made to sit in that chair, and he felt immensely proud to have cleared the path for you. He always would. As his heart pondered the future, a frown creased his brow. The thought of a day when you might stray, bringing a partner into the estate, unsettled him. Though that day seemed far off, he was already prepared to make their life hell. After all, the chances of you siding with a partner over him were slim. He has got his older sister wrapped around his manicured pinky.

➺Ezra x reader x hubby

[voguesriot]

SUNBURN ✹ luke castellan

( summary ) a social media au about chb’s fav couple (& their fav shitstirrer, aka percy jackson)

( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite cabin-coded!reader & small bits of baby percabeth

( notes ) first post ahhh!!! this was so fun to make

♫ Ant Pile by Dominic Fike

♡ liked by wisegirll , silenabeauregard , and others

yourusername my bf is hot but dominic fike if u wanna hmu i can ditch him it’s no biggie 😁🫶

lukecastellan EXCUSE ME

lukecastellan you already completed your rite of passage why do you need to break my heart 😔💔

yourusername want me to kiss that bruised ego better?

lukecastellan sigh… i guess…

seaweedbrain BOOO TOMATO TOMATO BOOOOO

seaweedbrain get his ass off my screen 🤣🤣

lukecastellan sparring arena. you and me. now.

groverunderwood bros rlly beefing with a 13 yr old

seaweedbrain the typa guy to tell me to kms bcs i voted him out in roblox total drama island

clarisselarue this would’ve been so much better without the second slide

yourusername no more like content from here on out 🙅‍♀️

lukecastellan wtf???

yourusername sorry babe i don’t argue with girls who have big brown eyes, whatever she wants she’s gonna get

silenabeauregard YOU LOOK SO CUTESY

yourusername I LOVE U 🥹❤️‍🩹

chrisrodriguez lukecastellan bro ik nobody else here fw you, but i’ll always fw you 💗

lukecastellan you’re a real one bro 👊

aphroditecamper1 u guys are so cute ☹️

♫ Babydoll by Dominic Fike

♡ liked by cbeckendorf , connorstroll , and others

lukecastellan yeah your girl might have a general grasp on battle strategies or whatever but can she bring an oddly unsettling vibe and a cute smile to the function? DIDNT THINK SO ‼️‼️‼️

seaweedbrain put a shirt on man nobody wants to be seeing all that trust 🙏

lukecastellan i wonder if your dad would’ve stayed if you weren’t such a hater

seaweedbrain i wonder if your dad wouldn’t have become the ten dollar founding father if you mom swallowed

yourusername woah…

seaweedbrain when he goes low i go LOWER

wisegirll too far percy

seaweedbrain sorry ma’am

clarisselarue this would’ve been so much better without the second slide

lukecastellan it’s my account???

clarisselarue i stand by what i said.

chrisrodriguez yk i can bring an oddly unsettling vibe too and my ma said my smiles pretty cute so…

yourusername yeah you bring such a crazy vibe!!

chrisrodriguez now that’s just rude

yourusername tried to be a homewrecker but you got wrecked instead 🤷‍♀️

wisegirll yourusername your lashes look so good!!!!

yourusername MY BABY THANK U I LOVE U UR MY FAV PERSON EVER

clarisselarue WTF???

silenabeauregard WTF?????

seaweedbrain WTF????

lukecastellan i’m used to this by now 😔💔🥀

♫ Woman Screaming #2 by Anton Hughes

♡ liked by wisegirll , racheledare , and others

seaweedbrain does he just not own a shirt… COVER YOUR BOOBS SIR PLEASE THERE ARE CHILDREN

lukecastellan why are you taking pics of us having a nap… fan behaviour icl

seaweedbrain i needed proof to file a police report against you for theft

lukecastellan how did you know??

seaweedbrain i was talking ab stealing my innocence but what were you thinking…

yourusername wait perce can you send me the second pic it’s so cute

yourusername send the first one too actually please

seaweedbrain pick yourself up you’re stronger than this what happened to women who stand on business 😔

yourusername i was standing!!! but then my feet hurt and he picked me up :)

seaweedbrain sigh

chrisrodriguez bros looking fine oh my gods

lukecastellan don’t matter if i’ve got a world of haters, i got you by my side

yourusername i’m just gonna leave…

clarisselarue yourusername just saying i’d never pull that shit

lukecastellan ok joke over ha ha funny

wisegirll percy this is a bit stalkerish 😭

seaweedbrain i’m sorry you’re right

this post has been deleted.

[aidaronan]

"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.

"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."

Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"

"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."

Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."

"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.

"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."

Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"

"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."

"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.

"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."

Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."

"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."

"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."

"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.

____

It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"

It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.

Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.

"Well, this brings back memories."

Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.

Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.

Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.

"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."

[cthonic-bunny]

1. personal synastry and composite experiences and observations

Do not interact if you are a minor. (18+)

Sun in 8th house synastry: I was the house person they were the sun. I definitely developed insecurities I never had before as a result of this connection. With the sun shining brightly on my insecurities, they were hard to ignore and even harder to not project them entirely on the sun. A lot of “you did this to me!” energy. I didn’t consider myself a jealous person until this relationship and a lot of it came from wanting to be “good enough” in the eyes of the sun person. It’s like knowing you have these darker aspects in common and wanting them to see you can bond this way and see them in a way no one can. You also end up pushing limits together. You liked this? Now WE love this. You’re addicted to that? Now WE are addicted to it. Moderation is hard to achieve with sun in the 8th house synastry. It can also bring up insecurities surrounding sex with that person specifically, if poorly aspected. Explosive reactions and emotional outbursts aren’t foreign here. The house person can feel like a vampire being sunburned, with all its ugliness revealing itself from its body because of its interaction with this person. The 8H person wants a full, in-depth analysis of the sun person’s thoughts, intentions, and motivations. The plutonic energy wants to completely envelop the sun, compulsively in some cases, to know WHY they are the way they are, and why the sun presents themselves in certain ways. This is especially true if the sun person did something to hurt the 8H person, who can feel it more than is rational. The 8H person can really struggle with getting over any emotional harm or feelings of abandonment that come from the sun person. The 8H person can potentially resent the sun person for not being able to read them as intently as they could read the sun person. The sex, if and once insecurities are worked through, can bring you so much closer to one another and to yourself. I also feel like any disturbances or intimacy problems between you two can easily be felt by others or there can be blow ups in front of people you know, because the sun is a planet that illuminates wherever the light lands, whether you like it or not. Avoid public fights, because you will kiss and makeup but the damage in other people’s eyes will be done and opinions will be made. The 8H person might be able to see through any facade the sun person puts up, and this could lead to deep discussions that could be extremely healing for the Sun who might have to work through some things. The 8H person can also teach the sun person how to make more money and maybe even encourage them to start their own business. They can be known as a couple that makes a lot of money together. The sun person can also give sugar daddy/mommy vibes and the 8H the sugar baby, even if it neither one of the people involved are rich-rich. This is a highly binding placement. You two might find it difficult or even impossible to separate from each other even if the relationship has run its natural course. You guys are known as the couple that is “stuck” to one another.

Moon in 5th house synastry: *weird* but, for those who have this placement with a significant other, do you love to smell their body odor? I think in the house of children and fertility, it makes sense to love your partner’s pheromones. Something as weird as the smell of their armpits or stinky feet becomes comforting, idk?? This house is also really fun, and you can get a lot of emotional fulfillment out of acting like children together. 5H is ruled by Leo, so I also found that we had a lot of fun putting on “shows” for one another, and sort of making up our own characters and accents to make the other giggle. People are also really excited for the prospect of us having children together, and you’ll have friends volunteering to babysit or be the godparent of your unborn children LOL. Dressing up nice and going out on dates to somewhere with a great ambiance can be a great way to feel connected. Sharing perfume, or gifting each other perfumes or colognes. Loving the scents they wear. Same taste in candles? Candles as gifts. Lots of watching TV together? Having “shows” that feel wrong to watch without the other. Being called pretty by the other means a lot, and being pretty in each other’s eyes makes you feel good.

Moon in 12th house synastry: 12H synastry tends to have an awful reputation, and I get it when it’s a relationship that isn’t meant for you. However, my moon falls in my best friend’s 12H, and it is one of my favorite placements of ours. We have a telepathic connection where we can just look at the other and know what’s up. You preemptively know what will bother the other person and find it hard to understand how other people wouldn’t have assumed that thing would annoy your person. You understand each other’s motives, and can provide the ultimate shoulder to cry on or ear to listen with. When it’s a new interaction it can feel a bit intense, because how are you in my head!!! I feel like you can read my thoughts! It was like that for the both of us. It’s like, when together, both our consciousnesses transported to another realm where we are mutually perceiving something and our thoughts are being put on a radio for the other to listen to. Very spiritual relationship. You KNOW the vibes, and those feelings will be verified through the other person who already felt the same. She will never be wrong in my eyes and I will defend her to the death. We don’t even have to speak on certain days, but we can feel whatever mood the other one is in and check-up on each other accordingly. Whenever we have a strange dream or nightmare, the first thing we do is text each other and try to analyze what it could mean. I as the 12H person also dreamt of us becoming best friends before we formally met. The dreams i would have of her would always be loaded with spiritual symbolism. We also grew up with the same level of emotional attachment to our personal spiritualities and shared religion, which plays a large role in our understandings of one another. Most people just won’t get it, but she always will. She could read my crazy journal entries if she wanted to. 12H moon synastry is just unconditional love. Between friends at least, it feels like a long-lost twin connection. Also, her and I had gotten matching tattoos before we even knew of each other, both of them being for the same spiritual meaning!

Composite Mars in 3rd house: Lots of talking during sex, and lots of car sex— It might sometimes feel like that’s the easiest thing to talk about, or the conversation always steers to that direction. Sending nudes? Sexting. Maybe the only way you two could engage your sexual desire for one another is through sexting, because distance might not permit the full physical expression. If you don’t have a lot of experience knowing the other’s communication style, it can lead to a bit of random defensiveness or perceiving the other as communicating abrasively. I think it can lead to one trying to get reactions out of the other by saying something out of pocket.

Composite Mercury in 12th house: Pay attention to the dreams you have of this person! They will seriously tell you a lot about your dynamic, but don’t take them at face value! Lots of mystical elements to your dreams about them specifically, so maybe reviewing tarot card meanings and astrology concepts can help you decipher the meanings of your dreams. You might find it easier than expected to confide in each other or rant about your brain’s inner workings together. “I don’t know why I’m saying all that-“ or psychoanalyzing each other for fun. Talking about your less-than-desirable attributes. Being honest about your deceptive tendencies or specific lies you’ve told and why. Oversharing things that will usually make other people uncomfortable in the same context (like talking about your exes or failed situationships on a first date). Difficulties communicating when it’s not in person because it leaves too much room for confusion. Deceit is a real possibility though, with someone voluntarily “leaving out details” about their life outside of the relationship to avoid ruining the flow of energy or the dynamic. Having each other saved on your phones under fake names. Having to hide that you’re talking to this person from other people. One of you withdrawing communication to manipulatively make the other think about you more. Taking turns being each other’s therapist. Thinking about each other often but never expressing that, or the extent to which you think of one another. Thinking about the other at night before going to bed. “I started catching feelings for the girl that I’m currently having sex with, so it’s safe to say we don’t talk anymore, unless of course we’re having sex” in Sasquatch .22 by Bay Faction.

Composite Venus in 12th house: There really is a secretive component to this interaction that can feel impossible to bypass. Your family, friends, or society might not “approve” of you two together. One or both of you can be cheating on someone with this person. Only being able to meet up or be affectionate at night or in extremely private settings. The privacy of the relationship can help you open up a lot more than you’d expect to, because there’s no one but you two to perceive the other in this context. No judgments on how you two should behave with one another, so “let’s fully enjoy the moment while it lasts.” No one understanding your interaction or it’s purpose, and you probably don’t understand it either. Sending telepathic love notes. Longing. Intimate and romantic sex that haunts you or catches you off guard. Never wanting to be the first one to admit you’ve caught feelings. Ruining your sleep schedule to spend time with one another. Dreaming about romantically linking with them before it ever happens. Withdrawing once feelings start feeling real. The song “Lips of Angel” by Hinder reminds me of Composite Venus in 12H. “Illicit Affairs,” “August,” and “False God” by Taylor Swift. “Why Can’t I?” by Liz Phair. Gato de Noche by Bad Bunny. Sex by The 1975.

Lilith in 8th house synastry: Wanting to try things sexually with this person that wasn’t necessarily exciting with other partners. “You can do whatever you want to me, and I’ll let you.” Possibly experimenting with or preferring BDSM with one another. That Lana lyric that’s like: You fucked me so good that I almost said “I love you.” It might also be controversial if people knew you’ve had sex with one another. Revenge sex? As in, you two having sex might indirectly be spiting someone else, and it kind of feels like you’re dishing out delicious karma on a surprising silver platter— “lol if only they knew” You two might have fun misbehaving together. Doing what you both know you’re not supposed to be doing can make everything feel better, and even more reason to keep doing what you’re doing. Lana Del Rey in Diet Mountain Dew: “you’re no good for me, but baby I want you.” Wanting to be dangerous together. “Leave me bruised so I can’t forget you.” “Seeing you tonight is a bad idea, right?” This placement somewhat reminds me of a union between the death card and the devil card in tarot, with an emphasis on risk-stained sexual liberation. You can become symbolic of temptation in each other’s lives, so it’s hard to deny your impulses. Toxic by Britney Spears.

-D 🖤🕯

[heliads]

want you, need you - minho

Ever since you became a Med-Jack, Minho can't seem to stop collecting random injuries that absolutely require your attention. You might be catching on.

masterlist

The Med-Jack hut is either overwhelmingly busy or frustratingly slow, no in between. There are days when every single room in the place is crammed full of patients– somehow, every Slicer manages to cut themselves, and every Builder breaks a bone– and you wish you had picked any other job than this one. The busy days are rough. You start wondering what might happen if you stopped being able to put people back together as quickly as they fall apart. You think about the endless cycle of injury and healing until everyone wears out entirely, a map of bandages and skin pressed thin like dead leaves.

Those are the hopeless days. Then, you’ll have a dry spell, when everyone manages to get their stuff together and no one complains of sprained ankles or excessive sunburns. At that point, you start twiddling your thumbs and mindlessly organizing and reorganizing the medical supplies. By the end, you almost start wishing people would get hurt just so you’d have something to do. It’s an uncharitable thought, certainly, and one you regret once you’re stuck in the middle of another hurricane of aching Gladers, but when there’s nothing else to do, it comes nonetheless.

You’ve found yourself in the middle of another boring week. For the past few days, the Slicers have remembered how to hold their knives so they chop the animals and not themselves, the Builders hit their nails with their hammers instead of their thumbs, and the Runners don’t give themselves cramps and stay in perfect health.

Well. Not every Runner.

Even during the most boring stretches of your admittedly short career as a Med-Jack, you can guarantee that you’ll have one specific patient. Just like clockwork, every few days a certain dark-haired, teasing someone shadows your door, complaining of overworked tendons, pulled hamstrings, heatstroke, and every other medical condition under the sun. If Minho can think it up, he’ll say he’s got it.

It’s honestly becoming ridiculous. For someone who’s such a capable Runner, it is truly remarkable that he survives so many ailments. One would think he would give up running entirely if it gave him this much grief. Yet every day, Minho sets out for the Maze with a cheerful disposition, and at least two times a week, he appears in the Med-Jack hut, sporting some new injury that materialized at some point during the day.

So, when you look up from labeling the medicine cabinet for what must be the dozenth time this month, and realize that you haven’t seen the Keeper of the Runners in a few days, you know that it’s about time for him to come down with the flu, a severe migraine, or maybe both at once.

True to form, you’ve barely finished going through the medications on one shelf of the cabinet when Jeff, one of your fellow Med-Jacks, comes into the room. “You have a patient,” he says impatiently. “Guess who?”

You roll your eyes, although you can’t help a small smile. “Can’t you handle Minho yourself?”

Jeff gives you a look. “I tried. He told me he wanted to wait for a professional. Figures.”

You snort. “You’ve been here longer than I have.”

“I told him that,” Jeff complains. “This might surprise you, but he didn’t care.”

“Tell him again,” you say, turning back to the pill bottle you’re labeling. “I’m busy.”

Jeff heaves a dramatic sigh. “I’m not wasting my time with that. He’s your problem, go fix him.”

You shoot him a confused glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” Jeff retorts, reaching over to grab the bottle out of your hands. “Ever since you started here, Minho randomly comes over all the time. You know he used to hate visiting the Med-Jacks before you arrived? Now he can’t stop showing up.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you protest weakly.

Jeff sighs again, so deeply you swat him on the shoulder. “That’s klunk and we both know it. The data doesn’t lie, Y/N.”

“There’s no data,” you argue, but Jeff’s already waving you out of the room. 

You make a face at him, then go down the hall until you find Minho waiting in one of the smaller rooms meant for patients. He’s poking at some supplies on a small table in a corner of the room, but he straightens up excitedly when he sees you.

“Doc! I’m so glad you’re here.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “What have you done to yourself now, Minho?”

“That’s no way to treat a patient,” Minho frowns exaggeratedly. “Whatever happened to bedside manner?”

“You got bedside manner the first ten times you showed up for no reason,” you tell him pointedly. “After that, you get whatever I feel like. You should be happy I’m still giving you bandages. We only have so many, you know that? Maybe I’ll start charging you a fee.”

“I can pay,” Minho says lazily, leaning forward so you can feel his breath hot on the side of your face. One of his hands starts to curl around your side, pulling you closer to him.

Dangerous, he is. You idly push him away with your palm, pretending to examine the supplies he’d been poking at earlier so you have time for the heat to leave your face. “How about you just tell me what’s wrong with you this time?”

Minho sighs dramatically. “Well, since you care so much, I’ll have to tell you that I’ve broken an ankle. It hurts so bad. This might be it for me, Y/N.”

You arch a brow. “Which ankle?”

He pauses a moment, thinking. “Left.”

“You’re standing on it just fine right now,” you point out.

Immediately, Minho shifts all of his weight onto his right leg, grabbing the back of a nearby chair for support. “No, I’m not. Look, I can’t bear the pain. It hurts.”

You just look at him. Minho looks back at you, unable to stop the corners of his lips from curling up into a proud half-smile. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” You ask.

He gasps. “Y/N. Are you trying to discredit your own patients? Some Med-Jack you are. I bet Clint would trust me.”

“Then go talk to Clint,” you say, making for the door.

Minho hurries over, flinging out an arm to close the door before you can open it. “Wait, wait. I didn’t mean it, sweetheart. You’re the only Med-Jack for me, I swear it. Clint is nothing to me.”

You take an obvious glance towards his feet. “That ankle sure seems to be healing fast, huh? You moved over here like it was nothing.”

Minho leans his back against the door. “Alright, you got me. Nothing’s wrong with the ankle. Still, my lungs have been feeling exhausted lately, that might be something–”

“That’s because you run everywhere,” you say, grinning in spite of yourself at his antics. “Come on, Minho, you’ll have to get a better excuse someday.”

“My bad for wanting to see you,” he returns. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. I miss you,” he adds a little quietly.

It makes you smile in earnest this time. “So you’re here to be a good friend, then.”

“Yeah,” Minho says, and you might be kidding yourself but you swear he sounds almost disappointed, “A good friend. That’s me.”

You tap him gently on the arm to get him to move from the door. “How about I promise to find you straight after my shift ends, and you agree to leave without using any more of my medical supplies? Jeff’s going to kill you if we run through anymore bandages, I swear it.”

Minho pretends to think this over. “Straight after? You promise?”

“I promise,” you repeat. “So? Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” he intones solemnly, and at last lets you open the door and usher him out, but only after extracting one more promise that you won’t delay to talk to Newt or anyone else once Jeff lets you out.

When you get back to the storage room, you find Jeff waiting for you, grinning knowingly from ear to ear. It bothers you for some reason, not the fact that he’s on this topic again but worse, the thought that he might not be entirely wrong for it.

“Wipe that look off your face,” you mutter.

Jeff’s grin just broadens. “How was your star patient?”

“Fantastic,” you assure him, “And I’d be fantastic too, if you could stop bothering me with whatever weird thing you’re thinking about right now.”

Jeff shrugs exaggeratedly. “Of course. I don’t know why anyone would think about Minho being unable to go three days without talking to you. That would be crazy.”

“It would be,” you add darkly. People in the Glade have said that you have a tendency for killer death stares. However, Jeff seems to be impervious to it, because he just keeps sitting there, proud as anything, as if he were in the right about this.

As if. This isn’t the first time your friends have tried to suggest there’s something going on between you and Minho, and the honest truth is that nothing has happened at all. Yeah, Minho’s your best friend, and yeah, your days are significantly better when you see as much of him as possible. What about it? It doesn’t mean a thing. Life is hard. If you want to talk to the boy who makes you laugh like no one else, you should be able to do it in peace.

You can’t deny that the rumors stay on your mind, and recently, you haven’t been able to deny them with as much conviction as usual. You’re not blind, Minho is good-looking, and maybe you start thinking about something past friendship when he makes another excuse to get in your personal space when you’re sitting together by the fire or walking through the Glade. 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before, but as good as it might be to have Minho in every way that matters, you’ll still be perfectly happy with just the one. You can’t risk your friendship, even if, two drinks of Gally’s brew into a Bonfire Night, you start thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, or worse still, when Minho drops by the Med-Jack hut again, you convince yourself that maybe he’s not just doing it because he’s a good friend but because he wants you just like you want him.

It can’t be, though. For one thing, Minho is notoriously confident. If he liked you, he would have told you by now. You’ve seen him argue with Gally for the fun of it, not to mention the fact that he chose to be a Runner of all things. Minho lives on a constant adrenaline rush. Compared to what he does on a daily basis, confessing his feelings has to be nothing major. If he wanted to tell you, he would, and he hasn’t, so obviously there isn’t anything to tell at all.

For another, and this might just be in your own head, but Minho is so brave and capable that he seems to eclipse everything around him. Maybe it’s just the force of your own perspective, but you swear the entire Glade orbits around him. When he gets back from a run, he’s immediately swarmed by Gladers asking him about how it was, if he saw anything important. He’s always the first person people talk to, the immediate choice for a dinnertime companion. Minho could have anything he wanted in the Glade. So why would he want you?

You’ve managed to force the whole thing from your mind as best you can. Minho is your friend. At least you can have him like that, even if it kills you sometimes to look at him and imagine all the ways you would love him if he would just give you the chance. Any good medic can keep their feelings internal when they need it, and you’re the best there is.

You meet Minho later that night as promised, and you do your utmost to pretend everything is normal. You stay with him until the sun sinks below the horizon, until the Doors slam shut, until the moon begins its familiar path across the sky. You talk the whole while, idle chatter that occasionally drifts off into comfortable quiet. You’ve never been able to do that with anyone before, feel so at ease that you can stay silent for minutes at a time and have it not be awkward, but with Minho, it’s so simple. Then again, you can hardly remember anyone at all. Maybe there was someone in the past who mattered to you just as much as Minho does now. Even without your memories, though, that feels impossible. Minho could have no substitute, not to you.

You’re expecting the next day to pass in a breeze of idle hours, but around midafternoon, your dreary day of organization and the occasional bad paper cut is harshly interrupted by the sound of chaos outside. There’s shouting for a Med-Jack, and then several people are rushing someone in. It’s a Runner, apparently, you hear the details as you run for supplies. The Maze started moving during the day and he got hurt.

You can tell from the way people start nervously looking at you that it’s bad. At first, they don’t say any names, but then you burst into the chamber that serves as your operating room and you know that it’s worse than you could have possibly imagined, for not only does it seem like there’s enough blood to drench the Glade, but the victim isn’t Ben or one of the other Runners, it’s Minho. Your Minho. Your Minho, bleeding out on your table, who will need you to save him.

You stand there for one fragile moment, drenched in horror, then spring into action. Clint and Jeff have surfaced by now, and you direct them to anesthetize Minho. You want him to feel as little of this as possible. After carefully cutting open his shirt to determine the source of all that awful blood, you determine that it’s not as bad as you thought, more of a broad surface wound than a deep puncture. That much blood loss is dangerous, though, and he’ll need several stitches to close the flesh.

About an hour and a half later, you’re done. You and the other Med-Jacks lean back, panting heavily. Your hands and clothes are smeared with red, but color has crept back into Minho’s cheeks, and he’s starting to breathe evenly again.

“How long until he wakes up?” You ask Clint.

He checks a nearby clock, then Minho’s pulse. “Fifteen minutes, probably, but he won’t be fully conscious for up to an hour.”

You nod. “That’s good. Clear out, you guys. Get some rest.”

Jeff stops by you on the way out. “You can stay with him if you want. He’d be glad to see you when he wakes up.”

You let out a slow breath. “Thanks, Jeff.”

He pats you on the back then leaves to wash up. You spare the time to scrub your hands and get on a fresh change of clothes, but head back to Minho as soon as you can. Ben was with him when the accident happened, he said that everything happened so fast he hardly knew what went down. You don’t want Minho to wake up alone and confused, covered in bandages and unable to shake the scent of blood.

Once the immediate danger is over, you’re left sitting in a chair by Minho’s cot. His chest is swathed in bandages, but no red has flowered through them yet, which is a good sign. As you watch, the fingers on his right hand start to twitch. Clint said he would start to stir around now, and you’re glad to see the signs of movement. Watching him there– so still, so motionless– it made you wonder if he would wake up. It made you wonder if there was any way you could survive if he didn’t.

Minho is starting to make small sounds of distress under his breath, so you lean over and take his hand, squeezing it carefully but comfortingly. “Hey, hey. It’s me. You’re safe.”

You hear the ghost of your name in his whisper, and then Minho starts to quiet down again, restless rustles turning back into quiet breathing. You check his heart rate with your free hand and are glad to see it returning to normal, shaking off the lethargy of the anesthesia.

Minho sleeps for a little longer. Afraid to upset him, you keep your hand in his. You can tell when he wakes again, because his fingers start to press against yours. Consciousness comes upon him like a wave beating upon the shore. All of a sudden, his eyes are blinking open, and then he’s trying to sit up too fast and is forced back down to the cot by a bout of dizziness.

“Easy,” you tell him, pressing him back. “Don’t try to sit yet. The meds aren’t out of your system.”

“Y/N?” Minho asks, voice hoarse.

Hearing the scratchiness of his voice, so totally removed from the usual confident cadence of his words, makes your throat close up. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

“Hey, Doc,” he says roughly. “Jeff won’t give me klunk about the bandages now, will he?”

“No, he won’t,” you say, torn between laughter and outright sobs. “How do you feel? Any pain?”

“All good,” Minho tells you. “What about Ben? Is he okay?”

“Ben is fine,” you assure him. “You’re the one we’re worried about, Minho. I knew the Maze was dangerous, but like this–”

He cuts you off, squeezing your hand. “Hey, all in a day’s work. I knew the risks when I went in.”

You shake your head, hot tears starting to well up in your eyes. “No, no. This isn’t fair. You’re not supposed to get hurt during the day. Minho, I didn’t even know anything happened, and then they brought you in, and there was so much blood– I thought I was going to lose you, and I didn’t even get to tell you–”

Even in the midst of your tears, you have the presence of mind to stop yourself before you give yourself away. It’s just– the thought had not abandoned you the whole time he slept, even the whole time you operated, that you could lose him without ever having him at all.

Minho shakes his head as best he can. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

“But you almost weren’t,” you whisper. “What if Ben hadn’t been able to get you back in time?”

You take a ragged breath, trying to keep the tears at bay, but it’s no use. Your shoulders shake, and Minho leans up slightly, as if drawn to it. To you.

“You’re pretty even when you cry,” Minho says, one hand weakly rising up to brush a tear from your cheek. “How is that fair?”

You laugh haltingly, in between the tears. “Barely awake five minutes, and you’re already flirting.”

He grins. “It’s all I want to do.”

If this were any other day, you would be able to brush off that comment, but something about this moment, this space– no one else in the room, Minho’s palm still tenderly cradling your cheek, your heart still erratic from the stress– you can’t help but turn the words over and over in your mind. All I want to do. All I want to do.

“Minho–” You start.

“Shh,” he says. “You already know that. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen through it. My smart girl. All those times I came to see you. Don’t say you haven’t realized.”

“Minho–”

“Newt says I’m being stupid. That I shouldn’t keep trying to have something that isn’t mine. But I’ll tell you something, Y/N, I’m selfish, and I’m greedy. I want you, and I don’t want to think about you with anyone else but me.”

Your breath is harsh in your chest, heart beating so loud you’re certain they must hear it echoing all across the Glade.

Minho’s eyes are fixed directly on yours. He sits up carefully, enough to reach his other hand up past your waist to the small of your back. “Tell me you don’t want me, or I’m not going to stop trying to keep you. Tell me to stop.”

Your lips part as you try to form an answer. Minho’s eyes dart down to the movement, and they only rise to your gaze with great reluctance. “I don’t want you to stop,” you tell him at last. “I want you, Minho. Only you.”

Two years now, you’ve known Minho. You’ve seen him proud and defiant, laughing and joyous and as happy as anyone could hope to be. Still, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile as brightly as he does right now, right before he kisses you.

Every touch is electric, and this is the most powerful of all. Your mind is reeling from the moment your lips meet, sending you far beyond the reaches of the Maze to the sky itself. You could be floating forever if you wanted, and you only start to gradually come back to earth when he slowly breaks away.

“Minho,” you say, hesitating over every syllable.

“Y/N,” he mimics, lips turned up in an irrepressible smile.

“They’re going to want to know that you’re awake. I promised I’d get the others,” you tell him.

He considers this for a moment. “They don’t need to know immediately, do they?”

You smile. “No.”

Minho’s eyes glint. “Then kiss me again. You can tell them after.”

It seems like a fair deal to you. You kiss him to make sure of it.

maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss,

@hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

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@wordsarelife

[rimunagenius]

The Five Times Caitlin Clark Wanted to Kiss You - C.C

❝ word count: 3.4k ❞

❝ warnings: RPF!! , fluff , two massive idiots in love ❞

❝ rimunagenius speaks: this might be the very first time i fulfilled the promise of uploading something the night I say i will … everybody clap for me pls!! 🙂‍↔️ anyways … sorry this is actually pretty long but i actually feel like i cooked so bad on this !!! also yes, i used todays game day fit for reference in this … do not judge me rn … ❞

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

The first time:

You two had been best friends your entire lives. You lived right next door so seeing each other almost every day, being together all hours of the day wasn't an uncommon occurrence. That's why when you two had been couped up in her room all day, a long day of swimming in her pool, it didn't phase anyone in the home. Including yours. 

The talk about starting your senior year of high school was something that came up quite often this summer. Nerve-wracking but also excitement-inducing. "Who do you think will play again this year?" You lay on your back, your feet at the edge of the bed, the cool wall barely ghosting your toes while your head hung off the bed, next to Caitlin's. 

You looked to the side, analyzing Caitlin's face. She looked very pretty. Her cheeks were rosy from the slight sunburn that began to set into her pale skin, brown spots that appeared to be new freckles scattering her rosy cheeks. 

She sat on the floor, her back resting against the bed you appeared to be dangling off of. She turned her head to you, looking away quickly realizing the proximity between the both of you. Her patience and self-discipline began to grow weary the last two months of summer being around you all the time. She couldn't help but notice that you had grown into the most beautiful girl in the world. 

"Well, I know Sydney got pissed last season because we played well together that she only got playing time when you and I weren't on the court or the field. So I have no idea if she'll want to come back." She shrugged looking back at you, her eyes dropping to your tongue dragging across your lips quickly before looking away. 

"Yeah, I feel bad about that. We're just better together." You looked at your best friend, her brown eyes locking with yours for what felt like the longest moment of the whole day. 

"Definitely better." She whispered, suddenly the urge to meet her lips with yours getting increasingly harder by the second. Suddenly it didn't feel like she was all alone in what she seemed to think about you this whole summer. 

You scooted your head just a tiny bit closer, closing the distance to dangerous proximity, your breath practically fanning over the other. You both inched closer, the tension between the both of you growing. 

"Dinner's ready." Colin came bursting through the door, looking at the both of you. Both your heads shot in the direction of the intrusion, suddenly whisking away any possibility of you two. 

"We'll be right there." You said, cheeks suddenly growing hot and pink as you sat yourself upright and stood. 

Caitlin Clark, your best friend, just almost kissed you. 

The second time:

You two had just graduated and you both couldn't be any happier graduating together. The celebration with your families took place tomorrow so tonight was just you and Caitlin. All of your friends had left a while ago, pushing an hour ago, and you two stayed at the cool lake together. 

She just picked you up and ran and jumped into the water with you. You came up from the water laughing so hard your stomach hurt, it softly echoing in the space around you. You swam in front of Caitlin, studying her face as the sun began to set behind you, the pretty hues painting another artwork on her already flawless face. The pretty pattern they painted in her chocolate eyes. 

You fought the feelings you had been growing for the brunette all of your senior year. It wasn't obvious to anyone else but you two. The irony of it all made you laugh. "Will you miss me when I'm gone? Promise to visit or meet back home?" You asked. The soft pain in your heart started to settle and make home when she announced she committed to the University of Iowa and you Iowa State University. 

Both are at home but yet so far away from each other. "Of course, I'll miss you. How could I not miss this pretty yet obnoxious face hounding me every day." She ruffled your wet hair, swimming a little closer towards you. Would it be strange to say that in the cold water, you could still feel her warm body radiating its warmth towards you? 

"Good. Can't have you going and abandoning me now that you're miss hotshot, all-star recruit." You hugged her, enjoying the stark contrast of the water and her body against yours. You pulled away, your eyes getting lost in hers. You couldn't possibly kiss her. 

She fought demons and all the thoughts telling her to just kiss you because she won't see you for a long time after you both leave. One kiss wouldn't hurt the friendship, right? But it would. She didn't know for sure that you liked girls. The longing glances, the lingering touches, and the indirect confessions you two shared late at night throughout the year still weren't sufficient pieces of evidence to convince the brunette that you shared the same admiration she did for you. Love. She was in love with you. 

She couldn't ruin the friendship. That's why when she noticed both your breathing growing heavy, the eyes bouncing from eye to eye and to each other's lips, the declining distance, she had to cut it short. She'd rather love you in silence than announce it to the world and lose you in the process. "You're my best friend, you know that?" She looked at your face, scanning it to make sure she didn't say the wrong thing. Maybe she should have just kissed you. In the privacy and knowledge of only you two. 

"Yes, of course. You're mine." You whispered, pulling apart and reaching for the deck to pull yourself out of the water and dry off for the night. 

The third time:

You had quite literally sweated through your tank top under your Clark jersey while you anxiously watched what was the last minute of the BIG 10 tournament with the Clark family. Your team had been eliminated a couple of games ago, so you made haste in coming to see your favorite girl play.  You and her mom holding hands, Colin on your other side while you held his hand. Caitlin had a stellar game so far, so you shouldn't have felt as worried as you did, but you couldn't help but feel nervous because you knew how badly she wanted this. 

You came to see her and have been attached at the hip for the last three days like old times. You watched her relentlessly practice her shots, you assisting in her off-the-dribble shots, contested shots, her quick release shots. You spent hours in the gym with her. You watched her practice and the team, you had complete and utter faith that they'd secure the win, it was just nerve-inducing to watch it all unfold. 

She had pulled another logo three off a screen, the whole family, including you, celebrating among the thousands of other people in the arena. The cheering halted for moments before the final buzzer, signaling the win Iowa University had secured. 

The shouting and screaming that ensued was enough to rupture the eardrums in every single being in this arena. You and Colin embraced while jumping up and down that all of your guys' favorite girl had won the biggest game in her career. This was truly an unreal feeling for a mere spectator in Caitlin's life, so you couldn't possibly imagine how this must've felt to Caitlin while she celebrated with her team on the court. 

It wasn't long before the family was allowed to make their way to the court and celebrate with the champions. You greeted all of Caitlin's friends who had soon become yours within the last few days. You congratulated them on their win and praised their efforts in making it all possible. 

You caught the eye of Caitlin, deep into a post-game interview, her eyes meeting yours, a soft smile gracing her lips as yours reached your eyes. You couldn't have been more happier and proud that she achieved what she so desperately wanted and hoped to accomplish for herself and this program. 

You and her parents waited for her to finish all her other obligations before thinking to interrupt to celebrate, it was quite taxing due to the excitement and pride the five of you harbored for the brunette, but it left a lull in the celebration between you. "You know, I'm glad you were able to be here. I know how much it means to Caitlin that you could make it tonight. I know how much it means to me and Anne that you stayed her best friend through all these years, being another major support system for our girl. You're a part of our family and we love you, kiddo. Just thought I should mention it." Brent leaned to the side, and low, to be able to reach your ear close enough so you could hear him over the roar of cheers among the women and their families. 

His eyes trained on the happiness of his daughter while she hugged her teammates trying to make her way to you guys. You looked up to the man, the man whose house you spent the majority of your childhood in. You smiled to yourself at his confession, nearly bringing tears to your eyes. "Of course. I was happy to come and make her game. I wouldn't miss it for the world. She's worked so hard and I'm glad to see the amazing player and woman she hoped to be." You patted his back, him looking at you at your confession of Caitlin. "I'm glad you consider me part of the family too. I would hope so because then I spent all those years asking for food and sleepovers for nothing, Mr. Clark." You both laughed. 

Unbeknownst to you both, Caitlin had been sauntering over to the lot of you. Her family. She never admired your beauty more than she did right now. She loved that you could spend the moments in her absence, talking and laughing with her parents and brothers. The look of this picture seemed so natural to you. 

She could kiss you so badly right now, wanting nothing more to relish in the thought of you finally being far more than just her best friend. The attraction she had for you, doubled tenfold, just by the small interaction you shared for being absent for the last three months. 

She couldn't get enough of you. 

The fourth time: 

It was mere hours passed from the point where you, Caitlin, and your family celebrated her win in the BIG Ten tournament that you two spent the night quietly in your apartment. You had invited her over, leaving the option for her to celebrate with her family of course, and she gladly accepted your invitation. 

You two had cleaned up for the night, you changed your clothes, showering most immediately when arriving home, letting Caitlin wander around your place for the first time. She showered second, changing into old pajamas you kept of hers over the years. "Cait, I seriously can't believe you guys did it! I mean, I can, but oh my god it's still crazy." You looked at Caitlin who sat at the island barstool just watching you. Attentive to what you had been saying and the way your eyes literally shined talking about her. It settled a warm feeling in her chest, that some like you, especially you, could talk about her with such joy and adoration. 

"You literally looked amazing out there, Cait." You smiled at her, placing the strawberries you had been cutting into the bowl next to the cutting board. You two had already eaten dinner at a restaurant with some players from the team and their families. You two just wanted a snack and all you had were strawberries and whipped cream. 

"Thank you, pretty." The blush in your cheeks suddenly matched those of the berries you had just placed in front of Caitlin. You turned to grab the whipped cream from the fridge, trying to bask in the cool air to ease the flustered look on your face. Failing miserably. 

"Of course, Cait." You smiled. You really could not stop smiling whenever you had been around her. It was becoming concerning. Not literally, but seriously, the happiness and giddiness were becoming funny at this point, especially amusing the brunette in front of you. You suppose that's why she kept calling you names like that. Except the effect is more efficient in person and not over Facetime. "Do you want something to drink?" You asked, clearing your throat. Suddenly the air becoming increasingly thick to breathe when she looks at you the way she has been for the last twenty minutes. 

You opened the cupboard, noticing that the cups you needed were on the second shelf, the shelf you indeed could not reach. "Hey, do you min—" You turned to face Caitlin, seeing her already two steps ahead of you. 

She stood behind you, placing one hand on your hip. Surely she needed to balance herself, but she was six foot...

You sighed quietly, fully knowing she could hear you but it didn't matter. She reached her other hand, picking up two glasses with one hand with ease. Caitlin waited til the last possible second to remove her hand from its place on your hip. She placed the glasses, down, closed the cabinet, and turned you around to face her, all while her one hand remained on your body. 

Looking at her this close, with the both of you sharing the same look, and surely the same thoughts about the other, was something totally different than all the other times. Granted the other times both of you had a nudge of what could transpire between you both, just less courage and lack of all the information keeping you from doing so. 

But right now, the reaction she managed to draw from you, her being so close she could hear it and feel you beneath her, the feeling of your body growing warm at the mere thought of her touching you anywhere else was something so different. There was more clarity about your guys' relationship right now than there has ever been before. 

"You're so pretty. Do you know that? It's unreal." Caitlin whispered, her face now next to your ear, the feeling of her breath sending chills anywhere and everywhere. You could not believe this was happening right now. How could you two act like best friends if what you think is about to happen happens?

"I wouldn't say unreal." You seriously could not muster a better response than the first, most flustered, yet idioticly undertoned answer that came to mind.  You looked into her eyes, suddenly unaware of anything else. Her eyes were chocolate brown, almost black in ill-lighted rooms but right now they were the center of your captivation. It would be a national crime to look away right now. 

Caitlin could see the way she was making you feel right now. She couldn't lie to herself and say she didn't feel the same way you did, she was just better at hiding it than you were. "No, I think that's exactly the word I'd use. So pretty." Her voice gets significantly faint and breathless at her last sentence. Her lips now significantly closer to yours. 

You reached a hand up and rested it on her cheek instinctually. You held her face close, your body now pressing into hers. Both of Caitlin's hands were resting on either hip, holding you as close as you'd allow. 

This was a major dynamic change of your friendship and you two were processing this as you went. It was scary to think about. You tilted your head up, breath fanning over her lips, her pace in breaths matching yours. Both of you felt so extremely overwhelmed but the good kind. Your eyes met each other, the action making it feel like a butterfly sanctuary inhabited your belly as the moment occurred. 

"Caitlin, are you going to kiss me or not?" You sighed, the desperation evident in the tone of your voice. You sighed at the force of which one of her hands reached the back of your neck, pulling your face into hers. She kissed you so hard you couldn't breathe. The way she grabbed so gently yet so desperately like if she didn't, you'd vanish. 

This was truly something out of a movie. The years of build-up between the both of you. The feelings that were so secretive yet not so. It was a perfect act that transpired in your kitchen. 

The fifth time: 

Caitlin was in a rush to get ready, fully under the impression that you were already done and just waiting on her. The second you both walked into your shared apartment in Indiana, Caitlin bolted to your guys' room and hopped in the shower. They had beat Chicago Sky for the second time this season and you had gone in shorts and a black form-fitted crop top, with Caitlin's jersey over it. You had told her you had to change and that was it, but it panicked Caitlin that she would have to complete a whole routine before she would be ready. 

"Baby, have you seen my—" She paused in her hurried state, looking at you, suddenly unimpressed at the state she found you in. "Baby, are you kidding me?" She chuckled softly as she found your face buried in a pillow. You had already put on your spaghetti strapped, long pencil dress, curled your hair, and all you had to do was your makeup. 

"I'm just a little tired, Cait." You turned over, looking at your fiancé with a sleepy smile on your face. You patted the spot next to you, putting your face back into the pillow. Wanting to be near your beautiful girl at the moment while you lay in your shared bed. 

"Let me get dressed. You need to do your makeup before you start to complain that I didn't tell you sooner because you have no time." She slid on a sports bra and a white crop top. Her underwear and her forest green shorts followed. She plopped on the bed next to you. 

"I don't want to do my makeup but I do. I just want to lay here with you. For like...ever." You sighed as you rolled onto your side, your arm sliding over her stomach, cuddling you two together. "Baby, we have to go." You sighed, looking at her with a pout on your lip.

"Yeah, I know that. You're the one laying on me." Caitlin looked down at you, watching you get up. She sat there and watched you as you walked up to your vanity in the corner and started your makeup routine. She couldn't believe you were real. You two grew up together and not once did she believe that you'd be this gorgeous. It was literally like watching an angel. 

You had caught her eye through the mirror, and you blushed profusely, suddenly aware that she had been watching you this whole time and you just now noticed how insane you looked with unblended concealer and contour. "Stop looking at me like that." You proclaimed, cheeks blushing and lips curled into one of the biggest smiles. 

"Like what?" Caitlin whispered, her hands folded in her lap. God, she couldn't help but smile whenever she seemed to be looking at you. 

"Like you want to kiss me so bad." You blended out your concealer and contour, now putting blush on. Hoping it'll conceal the blush already present. 

"Well, I want to." She said matter of factly. Which made you both blush even more than you two already had been. You two were blushing mess in each other's presence it was insane. 

"Oh my gosh, can you let me get ready without you trying to seduce me, at least once?" You both laughed while you tried to hurry up and get ready before Caitlin's eyes literally made you explode. She went to blow dry and straighten her hair before finding her resting place on the bed, watching you. "Okay! I'm done, my love." You said, sliding on your sandals before grabbing your purse that Caitlin was already holding out for you. 

Mumbling a thank you, Caitlin grabbed her matching blazer to her shorts and followed you out of the room and to the car. She stole the kiss she was waiting for before opening the door for you to get in.

[azzifudd]

i love it when we touch

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: Paige Bueckers is a very physically affectionate person.

rated: teen

1.9k words

disclaimer: fiction :)

[AO3 Link]

Paige Bueckers is a very physically affectionate person.

It’s the first thing Azzi noticed about Paige after they both made Team USA and started playing basketball with one another.

Azzi has always considered herself a pretty affectionate person, quick to give a high five to a teammate or a hug to her family. But Paige takes it to a whole other level, always the first one over to her during a timeout, giving her a pat on the butt and throwing a sweaty arm around her neck.

With almost anyone else, Azzi might be annoyed, but for some reason, she never seems to get tired of Paige. Not to say Paige isn’t annoying, she is, with her big mouth and near overconfidence. But beneath all that bravado, all Azzi sees is a sweet girl, with kind eyes and a good heart.

It’s that girl who Azzi wants to know. So she leans into every embrace, presses just a bit closer to Paige every time they’re next to each other on the bench. And tells herself that she isn’t imagining that Paige looks at her in a way that she doesn’t look at their other teammates.

Even though she knows it’s probably a bad idea, that after this tournament they might go their separate ways and never talk again, Azzi can’t fight it, and doesn't want to fight the butterflies that erupt in her stomach every time Paige is near.

She leans into it instead, that feeling that she’s teetering over the edge of the cliff, so close to falling, and jumps.

//

Azzi Fudd has very soft hands.

That’s the only thought in Paige’s mind as Azzi drags her through the small patch of trees toward the lake. They’d spent the whole day on the lake with Azzi’s family, only returning to her grandparents’ cabin for dinner.

Everyone else has settled around the fire, eager for s’mores and campfire stories as they wait for the sun to fully set. Paige had nearly sat down herself, tired after an afternoon of trying and failing to water ski, much to Azzi’s amusement. Paige couldn't find it in herself to be too embarrassed when Azzi giggled and wrapped her in a towel, keeping an arm around her as she helped to rub her dry.

Now, they finally break through the line of trees to find a small, almost rickety, pier tucked into a hidden edge of the lake.

“Woah.” Paige releases a breath at the sight.

“It’s nice, right? My grandma showed it to me last year.” Azzi takes a seat on the end of the pier, letting her feet dip into the water. “I come here when I wanna have some peace and quiet.”

“Are you sure you want me here?” Paige says, half joking. She knows her energy can be a lot, especially for Azzi who cherishes her calm.

“Of course I do.” Azzi says, simply, patting the seat next to her and calling Paige forward. “I always want you next to me.”

Paige plops down beside her, shocked at how casually Azzi can say something that can steal all the breath from Paige’s lungs. She wonders if Azzi feels the same spark when their pinkies brush together on the rough wooden surface.

Azzi leans back with a sigh, head thumping lightly against the pier. She stares up at the orange, pink sky, colored by a sun that’s nearly set.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yeah.” Paige whispers, laying back as well, but when Azzi turns her head, she sees that Paige isn’t looking at the sky at all.

Her normally piercing blue eyes are soft as they run over Azzi’s face, lingering on her lips before she looks away, bashfully.

Azzi turns on her side, lifting a hand to run her gentle finger down the bridge of Paige’s nose.

“You’re sunburned.” Her hand drifts to Paige’s cheek, hovering for a moment before she goes to take it away.

Paige’s hand darts up to grasp Azzi’s wrist, pulling her hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to her palm. Azzi’s pulse hammers between her fingers.

Paige’s eyes find Azzi’s mouth again.

“Can I—“

“Yeah.” Azzi replies, eyes already slipping shut as she leans in and presses her lips to Paige’s. Her aim is slightly off and both their lips are chapped from being in the sun all day.

It’s perfect.

//

Paige Bueckers is a pest.

Azzi has known this since they met at Team USA tryouts. She’d seen this pale stringbean and dismissed her as a threat before quickly being proven wrong.

Paige was probably the best player there, besides her, of course. Offensively, she was able to do anything she wanted, whether it was get to the rim, or nail a jump shot with a hand in her face. Which made it even more impressive that she preferred to pass, and she seemed to love to pass to Azzi. And Azzi had never had this instant on court chemistry with anyone else. It’s like they both knew where the other was on the court without even having to look.

But just because they played well together it didn’t mean that they didn’t love to compete against each other too. Even now, as they play two on two with a pair of little girls, Paige is talking trash and trying way too hard on defense. She grins a little bashfully when she bats one of the girl’s shots out of the paint and Azzi playfully glares at her.

Azzi casually stands in the paint, watching as her young teammate dribbles at the three point line. Paige presses up behind her, hand ghosting over her shoulder, then down her back. Her touch burns even through the material of Azzi’s t-shirt.

Paige leans into her hip, head over her shoulder, breath hot against her neck.

Azzi pushes back half-heartedly, not actually wanting Paige to pull away. “You know we’re on camera right now, don’t you?”

“I’m just playing good D.” Paige replies, snarkily, before moving to cut off the girl moving toward the rim.

One of the girls finally scores and they call it a game. Azzi says goodbye to the last of the campers who finally trickle out of the gym. She can feel Paige’s heated gaze from all the way across the room.

“Are you gonna help me clean up or are you just gonna sit there?”

Paige is sitting on the bleachers, leaned back with her elbows braced behind her and legs spread. She cocks her head with a smirk, beckoning Azzi to her.

Azzi rolls her eyes as she approaches, stopping right in front of Paige without touching her.

“Hey,” Paige murmurs, looking up at her, eyes big and tender as her hands graze the outside of Azzi’s thighs, her hips.

Azzi softens instantly. Paige’s touch never feels like less than worship.

Azzi leans down, linking her fingers behind Paige’s neck and pulling her into a kiss. She knows it’s risky for them to do this here, where anyone could walk in and see them, but she can’t bring herself to care as Paige deepens the kiss, drawing Azzi onto her lap, hands gripping her ass and squeezing.

They kiss for a few long moments, and Azzi loses herself in the slip of Paige’s tongue against hers and the way her shoulders flex when Azzi digs her nails into the back of her neck.

They’re interrupted by the sound of Azzi’s phone vibrating loudly against the bleacher beside them. It’s her mom.

“Where are you two?” She sounds clearly exasperated even over the phone. “We’re waiting for you at the restaurant.”

Azzi pulls back, ignoring Paige’s sound of disappointment when she dislodges her hands from where they’ve crept beneath her shirt.

“We’ll be there soon,” she replies. “Just got held up at the gym.”

“Hmm.” Her mom sounds unconvinced as they hang up.

“Held up, huh?” Paige looks up at her, eyebrow quirked.

“Shut up.” Azzi pushes her in the face. “You better hurry up and help me or else you won’t be doing any more ‘holding’ any time soon.”

Paige is on her feet in record time.

//

Azzi Fudd is not a jealous person.

And that’s what she tells Allie one night at Ted’s when the freshman asks her if she gets annoyed by how many women approach Paige.

Ice and KK burst into laughter at her response, but they shut up as soon as she shoots them a glare.

“I don’t get jealous!” Azzi protests. “Often.” She acquiesces when Ash cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

“I mean everyone gets jealous sometimes right?” Sarah offers up.

“Exactly.” Azzi says, ignoring the snickering she hears. “Anyways, I don’t worry about that.”

She gestures to where Paige is at the bar, smiling politely as a line of mostly women approaches her for photos, gritting her teeth a little when an especially busty woman presses up close to Paige.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Fudd. Paige is crazy jealous too.” KK laughs. “Watch.”

She directs Allie to put her hand on Azzi’s arm. “Pretend to laugh at something Azzi says.”

Allie appears unsure, but she does as she’s told. Not even half a minute passes and suddenly Paige is back at the tableside, sliding in between Azzi and Allie. She puts Azzi’s drink on the table in front of her, subtly dislodging Allie’s hand.

“Here’s your drink, babe.”

When she steps back, she slips an arm behind Azzi, hand finding its place low on her back. She scowls a little bit at Allie who smiles awkwardly as she pulls her hand back.

“What?” Paige asks when KK and Ice both smirk obnoxiously and begin elbowing the freshmen.

“Just showing the newbies how jealous you get.” KK cackles.

Paige scratches the back of her head. “Well..” She shrugs, bashfully, unable to deny it.

Her attention is drawn when Azzi leans in close, pressing her lips to where Paige’s jaw meets her neck.

“I like it.” Azzi says, quiet enough that only Paige can hear. Paige smiles in response and drops a kiss on her forehead.

//

Paige Bueckers is at peace.

There’s a light breeze that keeps the climate from being too hot, but the sun warms her skin as she lays out on a large beach lounger on a quiet stretch of beach. She has a glass of her favorite cocktail, an interesting book, and no responsibilities for the foreseeable future.

But most importantly, she has Azzi.

She’d started out the day beside Paige, with her own book and drink, looking so damn good in her bikini that Paige had almost dragged her back to their room.

But the beach had looked too beautiful to abandon, so they’d settled in for a day of relaxation.

They’d read their books for the first few hours, taking breaks to film a few TikToks and pose for a few selfies, but eventually Paige notices Azzi’s head begin to bob and soon enough, her book slips out of her grasp as she dozes off.

Paige picks up the book, slipping a bookmark into place for Azzi to come back to later. Within just a few minutes, Azzi has rolled into Paige’s space, ending up with her head pillowed on Paige’s shoulder and an arm and a leg thrown over her. She stays asleep.

Paige knows they can’t stay in this position for long without risking sunburns and bad tan lines, but she wants to savor it as long as she can.

After a while, Paige feels the arm beneath Azzi starting to fall asleep. She shifts a bit, accidentally jostling her.

“You ‘kay?” Azzi asks, lashes fluttering as she wakes up.

“Yeah, sorry.” Paige adjusts herself, tucking Azzi even closer in her embrace. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” Azzi murmurs. She presses a kiss to Paige’s sternum. “Love you.”

Paige watches her girl fall back asleep on her chest. Yeah, life is pretty good.

[octuscle]

A unique holiday experience

Stephen was lying by the pool… The wind rustled through the oleander bushes. From the restaurant, he could hear muffled conversations. He took a sip of his vermouth tonic. The ice cubes clinked in the glass. It really was a perfect idyll. From the pool, you had a perfect view of the plains of Mallorca, looking out over the sea of houses of Palma and, in the distance, the glistening Mediterranean. Stephen was somewhat exhausted from a road bike tour through the Tramuntana Mountains. But after a few days of just relaxing by the pool, he really needed a bit of a change. The bike tour had been a good idea from the concierge… But now Stephen needed something else. He surfed the internet. The offers from getyourguide were quite nice, but he didn't need another visit to the cathedral of Palma, another visit to an olive oil factory, another hike on the dry stone wall trail. He knew all that well enough. But then he stumbled across an ad that sounded original: “Bored of the luxurious Mallorcan quality tourism? Fancy a break from the real world? Party and have fun with normal people? We offer you a vacation like you've probably never experienced before!” The logo showed two young guys who reminded Stephen unpleasantly of the booze tourists who had made him shudder more than once at Palma Airport.

Still, it sounded kind of funny… Stephen clicked on “Continue”… Then he took another sip from the beer can. The stuff got damn hot in the sun. Then he fell asleep.

“Mate, you fell asleep in the sun again. Drinking ain't good for you. Want another beer?” Stephen woke with a start. He had to belch in shock. The guy in front of him laughed and held out an ice-cold beer can. Where the hell was he? Stephen was lying in the blazing sun by a small, shabby-looking pool. The cheap plastic lounger groaned as he sat up. Shit, that hurt! He was bright red. “That looks nasty, mate! You gotta cool it down!” The boy in front of him shook the beer can and opened it. A beer fountain hit Stephen's burnt chest. And even though he was sure he wanted to say something else, he said, “You absolute arsehole. You can't be wasting beer like that. Or are you gonna lick it off my six-pack again, you dirty pig?” What the fuck was going on? The chav in front of him laughed and actually licked the beer foam off Stephen's body. Or what was probably Stephen's body. What Stephen could see was an athletic, fiery red body with a few cheap-looking tattoos. And what he could also see was the tent that he was building in his shorts. “Bloody hell, can't you wait till we're back in our room? The pricks will end up banning us if they catch us!” This was a nightmare? Stephen was stuck in a strange body and was like a remote-controlled robot. He had no control over his actions or his language. He was stuck in this body and watched everything like a movie. Except that the pain of the sunburn was just as real as the lust that was coursing through his body. “Bruv, let's get up to our room, innit? If they're changing the sheets tomorrow, we might as well have a proper go at it, yeah?” Stephen didn't need to be told twice. He didn't know the guy's name, he didn't understand why he was talking about their room, but he wanted to fuck the guy. Now! And hard! He opened the door with his door card. He threw the guy onto the bed. He pulled down the guy's Adidas shorts. He pulled down his own shorts. He didn't give a shit about the stark contrast between his red-burned and chalk-white skin. His boner jumped out of his pants like a jumping jack. The guy squealed with anticipation. And Stephen fucked him like only slightly drunk chavs can manage shortly after the end of puberty. And Callum (Stephen suddenly remembered the name) was right: tonight they would have to sleep in cum-encrusted sheets. But tomorrow there might be fresh ones. If the maid didn't refuse to clean the room again because it was too messy.

After the fuck, Stevo and Callum lay on the beach for a while. Stevo had organized a new round of beer and was checking with the other guys from her soccer club what was going on tonight. Dinner at their cheap all-inclusive hotel in Magaluf was set, but after that it was unclear whether they wanted to go to the sports bar for a few rounds of darts or go straight to the club to pick up chicks. Callum didn't participate. He was drunk again and sleeping off his drunk.

The four days of drinking and fucking in Magaluf were always the highlight of the year. The football club organized this trip every year and Stevo had been going since he was 16. Shit, it was a wild time, but what happened in Magaluf stayed in Magaluf. His girlfriend in Birmingham didn't believe a word of it anyway, no matter what he told her about the trip. Hehehe, he could only hope that she had no idea what had been going on between him and Callum. Hey, it had always been without eye contact, it wasn't homo.

His buddies and he had savored the last day at the pool as best they could. They'd had to vacate their rooms in the morning, but they'd been allowed to use the all-inclusive until the bus picked them up for the airport. And the bar had been serving alcohol for an hour. Callum had already pissed his pants again, Stevo had already been to the loo once to throw up, but had unfortunately just missed the toilet bowl. The bus wasn't due for another hour. He had bought himself another beer and fell asleep on the sun lounger.

The other guests always raised their eyebrows a little at the sight of Stephen. The young man may have been able to afford the expensive hotel in Bunyola, but with his tattoos he somehow didn't fit in here. And he drank a little too much beer. And the burping could also be more discreet. Stephen didn't care about any of that. Somehow he thought that beer and Mallorca formed a unit. And if that bothered you, just get in touch. So far, Stephen had shagged everyone who was bothered by something to their senses.

[ad-caelestia]

basic ass witch tips 🔮

[revised post from ~2018 & last edited on 9.29.24]

please note that these are all related to things i have actually seen discussed or mentioned. please do your research before blindly following the advice of someone online, myself included.

if you're on some kind of medication, including but not limited to hormonal birth control, heart medication, and anti-depressants, double check with your healthcare professional/provider [HCP] before you drink that new tea you just bought.

always, always, always tell your HCP before trying any kind of herbal supplement, whether it’s something you made yourself or something you bought at the store.

have a diagnosed medical condition? talk to your HCP before ingesting anything or putting anything on your body that you aren’t familiar with.

don’t. drink. essential. oils. essential oils are not consumable!!!!!

citrus oils can cause photosensitivity, or being sensitive to light and more susceptible to sunburns so be mindful when using these oils on your skin.

if it hasn't been emphasized enough, PLEASE dilute your essential oils before use! common carrier oils are grapeseed, castor, olive, coconut, avocado, almond, etc.

oil and water don't mix, so you would need to use an alcohol based solution with essential oils to dilute them that way (if you plan to use them for a spray or something of that nature).

be mindful of using sprays, incense, powders, etc. that could release particulates into the air around pets or those who have allergies, respiratory issues, etc.

don't involve your pets in your practice in a way that could be harmful to them - no essential oils on them, no crystals in their water bowl, no moon water that's been sitting on your shelf for weeks.

i beg you, please don't put crystals in any uh bodily orifices.

there are some herbs you absolutely cannot burn (or use safely, really) for any reason, so make sure you're educated on all that beforehand; yew, for example, is highly toxic and potentially fatal if consumed or inhaled. the leaves, bark, and seeds contains a chemical called taxine, which is what some of the most hardcore chemotherapies are made from so keep that in the back of your mind.

that being said, please wear gloves and use common sense if you decide to forage for your own herbs or plants. i know that plant identifying apps exist so if you have a smartphone, that might be a good place to start.

putting salt on grass does a couple of things: salt removes moisture from the soil, thus drying out the grass and killing it; and, salt causes chloride to build up in the soil, thus making it toxic which inhibits chlorophyll production, leading the grass to eventually "starve" and die - please don't do this.

don't leave candles unattended - even small ones; it's not a good habit to get into.

also!! crystal balls in direct sunlight can cause a fire so be careful!

more fire stuff - be mindful of the environment and also safety so check for burn bans before you make a fire outdoors.

sterile lancets, not needles or pins. that's all i'm gonna say about that.

don't drink water you collected from anywhere outside unless you plan to properly filter it first.

if you plan to store water for later use (moon water, for example), refrigerate it or set it in a cool, dark place.

distilled water is free of minerals and contaminants so it has a longer shelf life than tap or bottled water - keep this in mind when making charged waters or other potion type things.

fresh herbs or other things of that nature left at room temperature can also grow super harmful bacteria. for example, putting raw garlic in olive oil and leaving it at room temperature will end as a breeding ground for botulism and mold.

be safe out there!

© 2024 𝚊𝚍-𝚌𝚊𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚊

[uglypastels]

Hello

I've just ready getaway and fell in love with the idea of a beach date with logan

Just pure fluff, messing around in the sea, lounging on the beach

Maybe logan teaching reader to swim or alternatively, logan being anxious to go too deep in the sea but not trying to not let reader know

🩷

this isn't necessarily a follow up on the other blurb, so can just be read separately :3

warnings: none? mention of deep waters, alcohol. just brief fluff

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

You weren't sure what made you think that Logan wouldn't be up for going to the beach. Maybe you always just imagined him to be a cabin-in-the-woods type of guy who would seek his escape and respite in the wilderness with you in a cosy little cottage where you could spend your nights at a campfire and looking up at the stars.

And that sure did sound nice, and you couldn't wait for that little holiday either.

But having him by your side on the hot sand was a sight you had not expected to actually ever bring to reality. He laid out beside you, propping himself up on his arm, sunglasses covering the smile-induced crinkles at the corners of his eyes. His skin brought a whole new definition to "sun-kissed" as it glowed under the sun-tan lotion and the seawater that dripped down off him.

To say it was hard to concentrate around him in this state was a deep understatement.

You would have made sure to find a more secluded beach, as neither of you was a fan of big crowds. This would have also given you the opportunity to have some music play just for the two of you to enjoy as you lay on your towels, perhaps reading a book or just soaking in the sun in each other's presence.

But after a while, despite you being an arm's reach away from him, the distance would get a bit too much for Logan, and he'd pull you in closer. Let you lay your head over his stomach so he could place his arm around you. Or he would softly stroke your hair until your eyelids started to feel heavy- but he would never let you fall asleep under the heavy sun.

Once you were in the water, he'd pull you in close, letting you practically sink him to the bottom of the ocean by anchoring yourself around him. [you'd just be up to your waists in the water; he's just dramatic when it comes to kissing you]. Your lips taste of saltwater and sunscreen, and maybe you would notice the warning in his smirk a second before he would let himself totally submerge, taking you down with him, finally crossing that "underwater kiss" off your teenage bucketlist that you might have admitted to him of having one wine-drunk afternoon.

[Only downside of going to the beach for the whole day with Logan is that apparently his regenerative powers also work on sunburn, so no matter how harsh the sun was, he always came out with a perfect tan... which could not always be said for you, unfortunately*]

*reminder to use UV protection whenever you're out in the sun!!!

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[madwcman]

Mess It Up

wc: 1.2k | miu masterlist

cw: second chance romance, shy! reader, plus! size reader, implied (?) anxiety and mother issues

“I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in, we can make it better, breaking every habit.”

You currently have two problems at the moment. One, you’re late to meet your friends and two, your jeans don’t seem to fit right today. Standing in the mirror you couldn’t help but glare at yourself. Something was off. your jeans felt too tight around your waist. It made you uncomfortable. You know it’s your mind tricking you but you can’t seem to get rid of that voice in your head. You have to think of a solution fast.

You couldn’t help but sigh, as you were rushing out of your apartment, in your uncomfortable jeans to meet Mary ; Lily ; Lily's new boyfriend and new boyfriend’s friends. You were nervous to say the least. You hated meeting new people. You hated speaking. Each time You spoke You felt clumsy and awkward with your words. you can’t help but fell a little sad. You used to know how to speak with your mind when you were seventeen, but now at the age of twenty you think all you can utter is stiff and unbearable small talk.

But you had a little hope. You have Mary to buffer off of today. Mary loves to talk. And you were forever grateful for that. That means you won’t have to say much today. Hell Mary might even introduce you to Lily's new boyfriend and his friends for you! In fact you’re counting on it.

Stomach queasy, jeans tight around your chubby stomach, and mind screaming for you to turn around and leave. You open the door to the pub, nose twitching to the smell of greasy foods and cheap beer. But you smile, though this place reeked; it was one of your favorite spots to meet with Lily and Mary. You have so many memories here.

“Y/n! Over here!” your eyes glanced over to your friend, Mary, who is not at your regular table. she sits at a slightly larger table. Although you’re still feeling nervous you can’t help but smile at the dark haired girl who’s slightly standing with her hand raised high, waving at you to join her. You wave to Mary as you walk over.

“You look great!” Mary stands, wrapping her arms around you. Hugging you tightly. you always seem to calm around Mary. You don't feel as jumpy from when you walked it.

“You too!” you try to smile, with your mouth open showing your teeth. Showing you’re very happy to be there, but somehow it always feels awkward. Unnatural in a way. You smile again, this time mouth closed but your smile is wide. Though you were dreading coming today, you already feel it’ll be okay.

“Hey!” you and mary turn to look at your third friend, rushing up to greet her.

Lily smiles, her eyes crinkle. you’ve always found Lily beautiful. Her body has always been nicely curved, skin freckled, loose curly hair that was a nice shade of red and beautiful green eyes that always stood out. Lily always looked lovely. “This is James.”

Letting go of Lily, you turn your head over to your friend's new boyfriend. James was tall. He was a few inches taller than Mary who stood at five-eight. He had to be at least six feet tall. His complexion was bronze and glowly, his smile was bright. It was contagious. His hair was dark, wild and curly. He wore something simple. A white shirt with a brown button up over it, with blue jeans. His wide rimmed glasses stood out. They fit him perfectly.

“Hello!” He smiled rather crookedly, raising his hand in hello. You decided right then and there he’d be good for Lily.

“Hi, is it just you?” Though polite, Mary couldn’t help but be blunt.

“Er- no, my mates-“ before James could finish, two more boys strolled in.

Both boys were pale and had blue eyes, the shortest of the two lad’s had a red face that looked like it came from sunburn over the summer heat, with blond hair that only slightly curled at the end. And though he had blue eyes like the other boy his was a darker blue. The taller boy clearly used sunscreen unlike the other, his skin had no signs of redness. His eyes were light blue- an almost silver like color. His hair was long, curly and dark. He was very pretty.

“I’m Sirius.” he smiles, and claps the smallest boy on his back. “This is Peter, but we call him Pete.”

“I told you to not call me that, idiot.” Peter snips at his friend, taking Sirius’ hand off his back. “I’m Peter!” he turns back to the girls, reintroducing himself.

“Where’s moony?” James looks over to his friends with a concerned look on his face.

“He’s on his wa-“

“I’m here.” Your heart dropped at the sound of the man’s voice. You turn your head and your jaw drops a little. You’d never thought you would have to run into him ever again. Remus Lupin, your once best friend, now just a stranger.

It was strange seeing Remus again. He was taller, his face and body more built and leaner than You remembered. His scars are still the same. One large and faded scar across his nose. starting from his left cheek to the right one. Another scar slightly crossing the original scar vertically on his left cheek continuing to cross over his left eye and eyebrow. He has another few small scars on his chin and lower lip. He still has his small freckles (which he desperately hated) from when he was a boy. His hair was still a chocolate brown color, the only different thing about his hair was it wasn’t just a mop of curls like the last time you saw him, his hair was shaped into a nice mod cut.

You were surprised at how Remus could look the same yet, so different. you were shocked. He seemed to be a little caught off guard when you both made eye contact.

Lily breaks the small tension, with the clap of her hands. “Great now that everyone’s here, I believe you two need to introduce yourselves!” She turns over to you and Mary, waiting.

“I’m Mary.” Mary smiles, keeping her distance. Not knowing what else to say. Turning her head over to you.

“Oh, and I’m Y/n.” You say it a little awkward, feeling slightly embarrassed. Sirius can’t help but laugh a little. “You don’t speak much, do you?” He asks, a charming smile in tow.

“That's our Y/n, she doesn't really talk around new people.” Mary offered, wrapping her arm around you. Her smile wide. She always thought your “shyness” was adorable.

You couldn’t help but feel flustered and self-conscious. It was true you never really talk while being introduced to new people. You grew shy overtime with speaking. Your mum always used to say you always talked too much. So you taught yourself to quiet down.

You glance at Remus, his eyebrows were raised in question, his eyes squinting. You couldn’t help but look at the scar that went across Remus’ left eyebrow. It was long and it always stretches when he lifts up his eyebrows. You always couldn’t help but stare at it, it suits him. You liked it. but, you knew Remus was trying to read you. You already knew what he was thinking: when did y/n y/l/n become shy? You could laugh, you started quieting down when Remus left.

Looking away from his scar, you met his dark brown eyes. His stare still hard and questioning. All you could do was shrug. You had nothing to say, not anymore. Looking back to Mary and Sirius you pulled away from Mary and took Sirius’ hand, shaking it with a closed and timid smile.

[sammiknowss]

His Own Little Secret

Louis was laughing happily in a bar, voice still a little scratchy, and comfortably cross faded. 

He and the guys had been lucky enough to have a bit of a break between shows, and they just so happened to be in Tampa, so they spent the day lounging on a yacht just off the coast, enjoying drinks and a bit of weed, before they came back to shore to party for the night.

They had decided against going to one of the more exclusive clubs, mostly because they all spent the day out on the water, and none of them were willing to clean up and dress up to get in. Instead, with a bit of research, they found a hole in the wall spot that was full, but not packed, and most, if not all, of the patrons didn’t seem to know or care who he was. 

He was sitting in a booth, facing the door, sipping on his Vodka Redbull when the door opened, and a small group of girls filtered through. They seemed to share his and his band’s sentiments, if not to a more extreme level, as he could still see the straps of their swimsuits under their still-damp clothes. 

The girls were fit, but relatively unremarkable, so he tuned back into the story that Oli was telling. Oli had just gotten to the good part when they passed back behind his booth once more, and one of them caught his eye. 

She wasn’t his type, really. He tended to go for the overly thin, leggy, model types for a one-off, and with his son and his tour, he hadn’t had anything deeper than that in a long while. 

She was thin, sure, but in a sporty way, with strong, slim legs and a tight little ass that he took a moment to admire as she walked with her friends in search of a booth. Her hair was pulled on top of her head in a long, curly ponytail, and her skin was sunkissed, cheeks a little pink (from a sunburn or alcohol, he didn’t know).

She was cute. 

She wasn’t really his type.

But something about her made the cogs in his intoxicated brain spin. There was something about her…

He stared, unabashedly for a moment (luckily without her noticing) before one of the guys took notice.

“Which one?” Michael asked, tipping his head in their direction.

“Oh,” Louis answered, dropping his eyes from her, and tracing the condensation from his glass that left a ring on the dirty table, “it’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously something,” he muttered back, squinting into the group, like that might help, “been staring for longer than you ought to.”

“One of them is just familiar, I think…” he trailed off, staring her down for a brief moment before it clicked.

“Shit! I got it!” He exclaimed, slightly too loud, “she was at the show last night, second row of seats, looked like she hated it.”

Luckily, the din of conversation in the room covered for his shouting. 

More often than not, Louis didn’t fixate on one or a few people at his shows, but something about this girl had caught his eye enough to make him check back a few times, and she genuinely did not seem to be enjoying herself, like, at all. 

He honestly didn’t have anything against her if she did hate it, or hate him, but something in him wanted to be a little shit. He wanted to go bother her and get to the bottom of it. 

Louis moved to get up, but Michael stopped him, “Where are you going, asshole?” He asked, somewhat fondly. 

“Gonna talk to her.”

“You just said she didn’t like you, mate.” Michael was a voice of reason. We all need friends like Michael.

Louis was, admittedly, a little drunk, but he got up anyways, and Michael didn’t actually stop him.

As he approached, she caught his eyes, and blinked a few times, seemingly trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

“Hello,” Louis led with, only to be met with silence, as she looked back to one of her friends desperately. Her eyes were brown, and it seemed that she had at least put on eye makeup to make her doe eyes pop before coming to the bar. It was light and simple, but it made her eyes hypnotic. Louis didn’t think brown eyes could be that enticing.

He waited patiently while the girls communicated silently before one of them pushed her towards him and walked away.

“I’ll go on if you want me to, love.” Louis said, taking a sip from his drink, “but I’d love to buy you a drink and find out why you didn’t like the show last night.”

Her already pink cheeks darkened a shade, and she nodded silently.

Mixed signals at best.

She truly hated him, but she wanted a free drink?

He was a bit confused (he’d blame it on the alcohol), but followed her to the bar like a lost puppy anyways. 

“Hey D, what are you - what the actual fuck?!?” A girl leaning against the bar began to greet her before she spotted him.

Louis watched as the back of her head bobbed up and down silently.

This girl, it seemed, was a much bigger fan of his, as she gave him a beaming smile and reached her hand out around her friend, who she had called “D.”

“Louis,” she greeted, a little breathless, “my name is Eliza, it’s actually kinda crazy to meet you. We just watched you play last night.”

Louis took her hand in his and shook it for a moment, “I know.” 

“You know?” She said, a little too loudly, “what the hell does that mean.”

“You guys were close, right? Just past the pit?”

Eliza’s cheeks flamed red, and the other girl, the one who initially caught his attention, used the distraction to slip away.

“Yeah… we were.”

“So what brings you here?” He asked, tipping back his drink and swallowing the last bit. He waved at the bartender and pointed at his empty glass with a kind smile.

“Okay, sure…” the girl narrowed her eyes at him, “but I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“Smart girl,” Louis touched a finger to his temple, tilting his head to the side, “I’m here because I had a show yesterday.”

The girl laughed a little too loudly, “I know that. I was there, remember? What I meant was, why are you following D to the bar?”

“Oh,” Louis said, nodding to the bartender as he handed him another drink, “I just wanted to figure out why she didn’t like the show.”

Eliza’s reaction was almost comical. Her eyes widened, and she pursed her lips in a cartoonish manner. Louis was fairly certain that if she had taken a sip of her drink, she would have spit it on him.

“What the hell do you mean?” 

She only paused long enough to turn and look at her friend before looking back.

“No. No. D’s just shy and has major crowd anxiety. She loved the show. She was one of the ones that really wanted to go. Paid for some of our tickets and all.”

“Oh.” Louis said, a bit dumbfounded. It made sense. Why would she have been so far up if she hated him. No way the tickets were cheap.

“She honestly doesn’t want to be here either,” Eliza tipped back her drink, “funny how all this worked out.” 

Louis agreed, tapping the rim of his glass to hers gently, “too right, you are.”

They both watched her for a moment as she stood with their friends. She was smiling, only slightly, as one of their friends made a dramatic display of throwing darts at a dart board, “I’m gonna talk to her, yeah. At least apologize for judging her too quick.”

“Go easy on her, please.” Eliza said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “she really does love you, and if you’re an ass, it’ll ruin her more than most others.”

Louis was mock offended, pointing to himself, “me? An ass? Never.” 

They laughed together for a moment before he more sincerely muttered, “of course I’ll go easy on her.”

She gave him a beaming smile as he walked over to where the girl, who’s name he still didn’t know… perhaps it was Dee?

“Slipped away from me there, love.” He announced his presence as he approached from behind. She turned to look at him, eyes wide and a bit panicky.

“Can we talk?” He made sure to keep his voice as quiet as he could, gentle, approachable.

The longer he was in her presence, the more he felt like he was unprepared to handle whatever mental turmoil she had going on. She reminded him a bit of a flighty deer, or maybe a rabbit.

So he didn’t expect what happened next. He didn’t expect a small, cool hand to be thrust in his direction with the silent command of, “follow me.”

Despite his better judgment, he took her hand, and glanced back at his group one more time before following her out the door of the bar. 

He halfway expected for her to stop there, with the night air blowing around them, but she didn’t. Keeping his hand in hers, and staying half a step ahead, she led him on a quick, albeit questionable, walk. 

They passed through an alleyway, and between some fences that he was almost certain was private property, before he found himself on a quiet beach. 

She paused to take off her sneakers and socks, picking them up and holding them in her hand before stepping into the cold sand.

Honestly, the sea at night was not one of Louis’s favorite things. What was once a beautiful, shimmering blue-green, was now an angry, churning of inky black.

She dropped to the ground, sitting in the sand and pulling her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them and rested her head on her knees as she looked up at him, a bit wide eyed.

Louis stood, probably looking stupid, for a moment before he joined her, looking out at the water.

There was a silence between them, for a minute or two. It probably would have been uncomfortable, if not for the weed and alcohol in his system. At the present, he was happy to sit next to a pretty girl on the beach.

After a bit, she spoke, voice hesitant and barely audible over the waves, “I didn’t hate the concert. I promise.”

And, God, did Louis feel like a dick. 

“I know, love,” he attempted to soothe, “your buddy sorted it all out for me.”

He watched out of the corner of his eye as she deflated, body relaxing, grabbing a fistful of sand and allowing it to slip between her fingers.

“So, tell me about you, then,” he keeps his voice light. 

He doesn’t know why, but he wants to talk to her. He wants her to feel comfortable in his presence. 

She lets the shortest giggle escape her lips before meeting his gaze very seriously, “You cannot be asking me that.”

“What do you mean, love?”

“You are a rockstar. You have performed with the biggest boy band of all time. You have played venues all over the world. Shouldn’t you be telling me about yourself?”

It was the most words she had managed to string together, and it was sass. Louis was proud.

“That’s precisely why I want to know about you. You already know about me.” He paused for a moment, and when she didn’t speak, he prompted, “Start with your name.”

“Delilah…”

It seemed that all of the attitude drained out of her body and was replaced with nerves once more. Louis wanted to touch her - to calm her down in some way. In any other world, he wouldn’t be able to, but in the darkness, with the sound of the waves hitting the shore, he reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her into his side.

She was stiff in his hold, but he didn’t relent, muttering a ‘keep going’ as he rubbed his tattooed hand up and down her bicep.

So she spoke.

She was in school, college, in the area, but was from another state. She didn’t allude to which, but Louis was fairly certain it was one of the southern ones based on her light accent.

She liked dogs, which Louis made sure to congratulate her on. Her favorite color was yellow, and Louis’s concert was the second concert she had been to.

The longer she spoke, the more she relaxed against him, and it felt good. Louis didn’t often like to admit that he wasn’t the biggest or strongest bloke around. Often, girls were about the same size as he was, but Delilah was quite petite, fitting perfectly against his form.

There was something about this girl, Louis thought, gazing into the night with a comfortable silence falling over them. She was relatively unremarkable. Sure, pretty enough, with killer hair, but she was just generally average. And it was a breath of fresh air. It felt like forever since he had met a girl that reminded him of home. But something about this girl did. 

A girl in Tampa, Florida, of all places. A girl who could not be further from home. But for some odd reason, she felt a bit like home.

Louis had no idea how long they sat in the sand. He should have pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked, but he wasn’t willing to do anything that would disturb the precious bubble of peace that he had managed to find. 

It wasn’t until she was shivering against him, the cool mist coming off of the sea doing nothing to help, that he decided that it was time to make their way back to the bar. He was certain that Oli was probably losing his shit looking for Louis, and he could only hope her friends were looking out for her.

“Okay, love,” he said, breaking the tentative silence, and giving her one more squeeze, “we should probably get you back to your friends.” 

He reluctantly took his arm back and stood, offering a hand to help her stand.

When she stood, eyes sparkling in the light of the moon, Louis was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her.

Quick. Just to see what it would be like.

But it had been a while since his last drink, and he had sobered up a bit. 

And, with a sinking feeling, he knew. This was it. He would never see sweet Delilah again, and it wouldn’t be fair to her to do that. It wouldn’t be fair to make her think that there would ever be anything between them, even if she did brighten his mood substantially as the evening went on.

No. Instead of following his instincts, he pressed the softest kiss to her forehead, and clutched her hand a little too tightly as she showed him the way back to the bar.

When they got there, Oli was outside, pacing frantically as he made calls. As soon as he saw the pair coming towards him, he shook his head, said something into the phone, and hung up. 

“Where the hell have you been?!” Oli scolded, “we have to be on the road in an hour!”

Louis just shrugged and let go of Delilah’s hand, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. 

She seemed to be struggling too, though, as she gave him a forced, closed lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and started walking down the road.

A better man would have made sure she made it home safe.

A better man would have gotten her number so he could check on her in the morning. 

Louis was pretty quiet for the rest of the night, even after they had boarded the bus, and were traveling at about 70 mph down the interstate. He sat quietly, nursing a mug of chamomile tea (which he honestly thought tasted terrible, but he needed to sleep). 

When Oli asked what happened, he didn’t tell him. Delilah was his now. His own little secret that would stay tucked into his chest.

[heybank]

umm so i wrote a little fic/blurb idk i don't think it's good but it's something that's been stuck in my head for a while with my own little oc named grace but her name is only mentioned a few times so it could totally be ignored and seen as reader.

anyway this is my first ever fic so please be kind to me and if you have suggestions or other fic ideas i'd love to hear them.

not proof read and lowercase intended.

and if you think it's awful please lie to me i'm fragile 😔

deny

you are a lover girl. a hopeless romantic, someone who dreams of finding "the one" and living happily ever after. kie often says you tend to fall in love a little with everyone you meet. you can't help it though, you have so much love in you, it feels like you'll burst at the seams if you don't share it with others.

you think you're in love with your best friend jj maybank. no one understands you the way the wild blond haired boy does. no one can communicate with you with just a single look the way jj does. no one makes your heart beat out of your chest and your tummy flutter the way his dimpled smile does, eyes crinkling at the corners, a slight sunburn on his nose because lord know that boy doesn't use the sunscreen you bought him.

so yeah you're in love with jj maybank but then yesterday a different boy kissed you. pope heyward, your other best friend, genius extraordinaire whom you thought was maybe in love with kie but no- he kissed you and you felt a tingle in your ever beating heart. heat filled your cheeks and your ears became fuzzy. that was a new feeling when it came to pope. it made you excited to explore because as much as you love jj, you don't think the boy would ever return your undying affection because your friendship meant too much.

----

you stood in the threshold of popes bedroom, gasp stuck in your throat, eyes wide and mouth open at the sight before you. you’re not sure how to process what you’re seeing.

before you on the bed that pope kissed you on not even 24 hours ago, is jj maybank, your closest friend, kissing the heyward boy.

so many emotions flow through you at the sight before you.

shock because not once has jj; or pope for that matter mentioned or even hinted that they liked men- or each other. then again, jj has always liked beautiful people and pope is certainly that.

sadness because you and pope had literally just kissed. maybe you were naive to think a simple kiss meant something more to the boy, but it was pope, you don't think there's a mean bone in his body. then again you’ve always been too much of a romantic, too blinded to really see what’s in front of you. blinded by your want and need to be loved that perhaps you create situations in your mind that you interpret as reality? maybe you need to contact your therapist again. you're sounding even more delusional than before.

lastly, you feel jealousy. the angry green monster rumbling around in your tummy, making its way up your throat. you’re not sure what exactly is making you jealous because the image of the two boys kissing is surely confusing. are you jealous because pope is kissing another person who isn’t you? a part of you is jealous because he’s kissing jj. or maybe it’s that jj is kissing pope or that maybe they’re kissing eachother and they're not kissing you? you're not sure at this point. dear diary jealousy is a disease babes, and you are infected.

you must have made a noise because next thing you know, the two boys are pulling apart, a string of spit still connecting them and for a second your love rattled brain is jealous of it. the spit that is, because deep down you’ve always known that you wanted them both… to be the one to connect them. you feel slightly crazy being jealous of spit.

jjs face goes beat red and then flushes pale, like a ghost. he looks terrified and like he might vomit all over the floor in a second.

“grace!” popes panicked voice reaches your ears but they’re still kind of ringing from the shock of seeing your supposedly straight best friends kiss.

in your heartbroken haze you wonder if you're being a bad ally right now. you love the gays you swear! you just never pictured pope and jj as being a part of the gays ™.

you clear your throat, “jb and kie are waiting for us downstairs. we were going out on the boat today, remember?”

you try and say that as gently as possible because jj still looks like he’s going to pass out and pope isn’t much better.

popes hands are shaking as he reaches for you and a part of you wants to pull away but you’re not mean. you’ve never been mean so even if your feelings are hurt you’ll always put your best friends feelings above your own. and it looks like pope needs to touch you. maybe to hold your hand and reassure him you’re really standing there, witnessing something that you probably shouldn’t have.

so many emotions flicker through popes eyes. you can’t really see his blush but you’re sure if you touch his face it would be hotter than the sun.

pope grabs your hands in his shaking ones. you can feel how clammy they are and you hazard a look back to jj who has yet to even move. you’re a little concerned he’s gone into shock.

you let out a soft sigh and smile at the boys, a smile that is mostly genuine.

you squeeze popes hand and make eye contact with the panicked blonde boy on the bed.

“it’s ok jj. i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.” you speak kindly, as if you’re talking to a scared feral cat.

you only see jj swallow hard. “for what it’s worth, i understand the appeal... wanting to kiss pope and all.” you tease hoping to cut the obvious tension in the room. you feel like you're the one choking now.

jj and pope both let out huffs like they’re afraid to laugh but also relieved you’re not upset.

“you’re not mad?” jj croaks like he still has a frog lodged in his throat. he looks at you with soft wonder, like you’re the best thing in his life. his stare makes your tummy flutter.

“of course not. you guys are my best friends. i only ever want you to be happy!” you reply honestly. jj deserves happiness after the shit life he’s been dealt. he deserves good things and if you have to set aside your feelings in order for him to have good things then by golly you’ll do that.

“grace, about yesterday-“ pope starts off,

“don’t worry buddy, already forgotten.” you cut him off. hopefully saving him the strife of having to apologize to you about the kiss and saving you the embarrassment of him telling you he regrets your kiss. you don't think you could survive hearing that out loud.

you march over to jj still holding popes hand, effectively dragging the boy with you. you throw your arms tightly around jjs neck and after a heartbeat, jj returns your hug. you move your head to look at pope and nod at him, encouraging him to join the hug.

“now c’mon. you know how pissy jb gets when he’s made to wait” you giggle.

you lead the boys out of popes room and home and into the twinkie without giving them an option of saying no.

“finally! i thought y’all died or something. what took so long” john b huffs in exasperation.

“my fault jb!” you quickly chirp so the boys don’t have to panic and think of a lie “pope showed me the new book he got and it’s my favourite and i starting gushing and you know me i can’t shut up and… well i forgot why i went up to get them in the first place” you giggle with a sheepish smile.

“you’re so lucky you’re cute, grace” kie laughs teasingly.

you see pope and jj making eye contact. you have a feeling you might need to play therapist for them soon. pope doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings without beating around the bush and well, jjs favourite thing to do is deny deny deny.

actually, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do too! deny you have feelings for pope. deny you have feelings for jj. deny you ever saw them kiss and deny that them kissing only upset you because you weren’t a part of it. deny that a part of you enjoyed it. deny that your feelings matter in this situation and deny that if given the chance, you’d love to be in between a beautiful jj maybank and pope heyward sandwich.

yep, deny deny deny. this is gonna be a long freaking summer.

[the-anime-enthusiast]

izuku midoryia’s type in women PLEASEEEE🙏🙏

OFCC!! Sorry for taking so long, in my last post I explained why I've been on an unofficial hiatus but yeah 😭 I got u!!

IZUKU MIDORIYA - type in women

PHYSICAL 🤸‍♀️

bro DOES NYYYAT care, literally at all. I think everyone has their preferences, him too ofc, but he's him guys. The ratio from hips to waist is NOT what bros laying attention to, but ofc I'll still give you my opinion.

SUN KISSED BADDIES you got that like sunburn across your cheeks? he's going crazy. like legitimately. I don't think he would be able to handle his feelings. he'd probably pass out from a blood pressure spike.

He likes them brown haired girls 😔 and brown eyed girls 😭 (song reference) He honestly doesn't care Abt details like that, he'd date anyone, but he def compares his love life to shoujo series and he stays seeing those dark haired baddies.

ass tits thighs personality ✅ he's fs a personality man but let's bffr, every guy has there thing....height, hips, and arms. He likes his girls shorter than him 🙂 (around 5'2? not too short tho cuz then he gets weirded out) He LOVES dem hips. Yk whenever a girl has that natural dip in her hips, it kinda looks like those donut stack toys babies play with? (random comparison I js can't think of anything) HE LOVES THAT SH!!T. He's def secretly crazy for thick hips, like when u got some fat around them. Loves it 100%

okay...so the whole arms thing...he likes girls who have thicker arms...and not rly a muscle kinda thick, more like an auntie thick when you got that little folded skin hanging over the elbow. Bros specific, and bros a lil weird Abt it. He would NEVER admit it out loud, but it's like a creepy fetish for him. He would js never actually be creepy Abt it tho cuz yk, HE HAS COMMON DECENCY. (Unlike some guys 🙄)

When I say he's not picky, I MEAN he is not picky. It's giving very much Yuji Itadori and that one girl that he was like "yeah it would be her" (very mindful, very sweet, very wholesome, very demure) Slim, Thick, Skinny, Midsize, Plus size, All size, Morphing Size (idfk im running out of sizes and you never know with those quirks man)

MENTAL 🧠

if ur a mean ass bitch you can get TFFF OUUUTTT bro does NOT stand for that sh!t 🙅‍♀️ tbh i dont think he'd be picky when it comes to personality but he doesn't stand for someone who has room for hate in their heart, even after everything hes been through. I'm not gonna sit here and be like "oh he's a sweet cinnamon roll 🥺" like bffr, but he won't even look in your direction if you're a "hater"

He generally wants someone sweet, or just nice in general. like ochaco (no I'm not shipping them, she's just really nice and the best charcter to describe his preferred personality to)(did you see her with toga? shes a sapphic queen guys bffr) He wants someone who cares TREMENDOUSLY, like he does. Kindness is what gets his attention, being a good soul and good spirit, someone he can match wave lengths with mentally.

A strong mind and determination. (bkdk reference) (I'm joking) He knows exactly where he wants to be in life, even if his idea of that is a little messy, so he likes whenever someone has the same drive he does, natural will to be good. He wants someone mentally tough and ready to face the world for what they believe, as long as they know in their heart it's what they want/believe. (all might reference)

RANDOM 🎉

He rly likes girls who can draw 😭 He thinks it's the coolest thing ever and it makes it so easy for his partner to get him gifts bc he'd melt if he got a personalized drawing of him and his fav heros 😭

LOVE LANGUAGE - physical touch

he's not huge on pda (he gets rly embarrassed, not in a embarrassed of you way, more of a, im shy and feel like my face is going to explode, kinda way) but he loves sweet little acts of physical touch. Whenever he's stressed or really anxious holding hands melts all his worries away.

LOVE LANGUAGE -quality time

bro fr js wants to be next you. he loves little cheesy dates (amusement park and sharing crepes)(manga reference) but yeah, just cheesy things like that.

Really likes nerdy girls (very big on matching energy if you can't already tell) like js geek out with bro and he'd die for u istg.

Play a damn board game with this kid, Jeezus Chrysler. Whip out monopoly and you'll have his attention till he rots in fictional jail. He actually REALLY sucks at board games but refuses to ever stop playing them. Jenga? He can't even set the blocks up without knocking them over. Uno? He forgot what the word uno was. I mean literally say there stuttering trying to remember what word he's supposed to say.

BUY THIS KID SHOES. He doesn't know why...but it's one of his favorite gifts to receive. He loves trying them on and showing them off to you. He also gets rly geeked out over custom fan shoes. (think like those Hercules sandals from the Hercules movie) He knows it's cringe. He doesn't care. He has display racks for all of them on his wall.

OMG I FINISHED WRITING IT HOLY SH!T I DIDNT THINK I WOULD I js pulled all of these he out MY BEHIND BRO it's midnight I'm dead ASF, I have that convention in 2 days, shizzz wild rn. Pls lemme know what u think!! I've never been a HUUGHERE Deku fan, I kinda js appreciate his character, but I think this is pretty cutesy, how tf do u spell that. Anyways, yeah. This was fun. BYEYYEYEYEHEHEHEHEHEYYTEYRYTRYYR