#not 100% sure how I feel about the design

[hoe4hotchner]

can i req aaron with an s/o who's ovulating or has a high sex drive and is easily turned on by him (regardless of if he's trying to or not)

The Hotchner effect | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 2.0k | CW: MDNI, 18+, smut, Couch sex.

A/N: Well…… this was the smut I was excited about writing the night before I was hit by that car. So, here you guys go ;) To anyone interested: I've almost made a full recovery at this point. In a couple of days I'll probably be 100% fine again :D

You always thought you had decent control over yourself and your body—at least until you met Aaron Hotchner. Somehow, just being around him tested your limits, especially when he wasn’t even trying. Every. Single. Day. Whether it was his voice, as low and commanding as it was when you visited him in the middle of a case brief at the BAU, or the way his tie shifted as he rolled up his sleeves, everything he did made your heart race—and that was on a normal day.

But today? Today, your hormones were in overdrive. Ovulating didn’t just make you aware of him; it made everything he did feel like it was specifically designed to unravel you. All of your senses tuned onto his wavelengths.

His scent lingering in the sheets—hypnotizing.

The sound of his footsteps across the floor—ears perked.

Every little twitch and movement he made—you suddenly had 20/20 vision.

Like now, as he stood in the kitchen casually pouring himself a cup of coffee before retreating back to his office. The crisp white shirt he wore hugged his frame just right, the fabric stretched taut across his broad shoulders, his suit jacket long forgotten on the back of his chair after he had returned home.

He wasn’t even speaking, but the way he leaned against the counter, so composed and yet so authoritative, was enough to make your stomach flip and your thoughts veer wildly off course.

“Are you alright?” His voice cut through your haze, and you froze, realizing you’d been staring at him.

“Uh, yeah! Fine. Totally fine,” you said quickly, reaching for a cup as if that was why you’d been standing there in the first place.

His lips twitched in a faint smile, and you cursed internally because even that was hot. Damn him.

The problem was, Aaron knew. Maybe not the full extent of it, but he was far too observant not to notice the way your breath hitched when he looked at you or how your cheeks flushed whenever he got too close. And right now, you could see the flicker of amusement in his dark eyes as he stepped closer, seemingly to grab the sugar.

“Sure you’re fine?” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You gripped the counter, your body betraying you as heat flushed through your skin. “Y-yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

His gaze lingered, assessing, and for a moment, you thought he might press further. But instead, he leaned back, sipping his coffee, completely unbothered by the chaos he was causing inside you.

The rest of the day wasn’t any better. Whether it was the way he adjusted his tie, the faint scruff on his jaw after a long phone call, or how his hand brushed yours when he came out of the office for a moment, you were practically vibrating with tension.

By the time he finished his workload, you were ready to combust.

Aaron was undoing his cufflinks when you finally snapped. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” you blurted, crossing your arms as you stood in the middle of the living room.

He glanced up, eyebrows raised, but the smirk tugging at his lips told you everything. “I might have an idea,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, and damn him again because he was still so calm, so composed, while you were unraveling.

“You’re driving me insane, Aaron,” you confessed, and this time, his smirk softened into something deeper, more knowing.

“Come here,” he said, his tone shifting, and the weight of it alone made your knees weak.

You didn’t hesitate, crossing the space between you in an instant. His hands found your waist, pulling you close as his lips brushed your temple. “You know,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “I’ve been trying to keep my distance all day because I could tell you were… distracted.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh. “Distracted is an understatement.”

His fingers tightened slightly on your hips, his lips grazing your ear now. “Well, sweetheart, I’m all yours now.”

And that was all it took for you to finally close the gap, pulling him into a kiss that was every bit as heated as the tension that had been simmering between you all day.

As soon as your lips met, it was like all the pent-up desire and arousal from the day came pouring out in a wave of pure, unbridled passion. Your kiss was hungry, almost feral, your hands roaming over Aaron's body as if trying to memorize every edge and angle.

Aaron groaned into your mouth, his own hands slipping under your shirt to explore the soft skin of your back. He tugged impatiently at the fabric, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it aside before his fingers quickly found the clasp of your bra and unhooked it.

His gaze raked over your exposed breasts as he freed them.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, palming your one, the callous on his fingers rough against your skin. "You're so gorgeous. I can't get enough of you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your nipples hardening almost painfully under his touch. You arched into his hand, a needy whimper escaping your lips. He took the opportunity to lower his head and capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasurable pain straight to your core.

You cried out, tangling your fingers in his hair and holding him close. He lavished attention on your breasts, alternating between nipping and sucking until you were writhing against him, your body aching for more. Your hands scrabbled at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Aaron seemed to understand, moving back just long enough to yank his shirt off before continuing his attack on you again. The feel of his bare chest against yours was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your nerves. You ran your hands over his muscles, marveling at the way they flexed beneath your touch.

Your arousal was growing with each passing second, and your panties soaked. You could feel the heat building between your legs, your body crying out for release. Aaron seemed to sense it, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "Tell me what you need, baby," he murmured, his fingers toying with the button. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

His words were like a match thrown in a puddle of gasoline, igniting the fire in your veins. "I need you," you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. "I need you inside me. Please, Aaron, fuck me."

A wicked grin spread across Aaron's face, his eyes glinting with promise. "With pleasure," he purred, popping the button of your pants and sliding them down your legs. You kicked them off eagerly, leaving you in nothing but a damp pair of panties.

Aaron drank in the sight of you, his gaze trailing over every inch of exposed skin. "God, you're perfect," he breathed, running a finger along the edge of your panties. "So perfect."

He hooked his fingers under the fabric, slowly pulling them down and baring you completely to his hungry gaze. You flushed under his scrutiny, but the heat of his stare only served to fuel your desire. He leaned you back, the weight os his body pressing against you as your back hit the cushion of the couch.

"I'm going to taste every inch of you," he promised as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. "I'm going to make you come so hard you forget your own name."

And with that, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue delving into your already dripping folds. You cried out at the first touch, your back arching off the couch. He lapped at you greedily, his tongue exploring every crevice and fold, finding all the spots that made you gasp and moan. He knew you too well.

Your hands flew to his hair, holding him in place as he worked you over with skill. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head, your hips rocking against his mouth in a desperate search for more. He obliged happily, sliding two fingers inside you and curling them just right, hitting the spot that made stars blind your vision.

"Oh god, Aaron," you keened, your head thrashing from side to side. "Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm so close."

He doubled his efforts, sucking hard on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, building and building until it finally washed over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy.

You screamed his name as you came, your body convulsing beneath him. He worked you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you were boneless and spent, collapsing back against the mattress. But Aaron was far from done with you.

He crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that tasted of your own arousal. You could feel his stiffness pressing against you, hot and insistent. Breaking the kiss, he reached down to undo his pants, shoving them down just far enough to free his cock.

"I need to be inside you," he grunted, positioning himself at your entrance. "I need to feel you wrapped around me. Think you can take one more, for me?"

You nodded breathlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He surged forward, burying himself inside you with one smooth thrust. You both groaned at the sensation, your bodies fitting together like they were made for each other.

Aaron set a hard and fast pace, his hips snapping against yours with each powerful stroke. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of pleasure. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle and allowing him to go even deeper.

"You feel amazing," he panted, his eyes locked on yours. "So tight and wet and perfect. I never want this to end."

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, your walls clenching around him in response, your eyes watering from pure bliss. He groaned at the sensation, his thrusts becoming erratic and uncoordinated as he chased his own release.

You could feel another orgasm building low in your belly, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each pass of his cock. "Harder," you gasped, digging your nails into his back. "Fuck me harder, Aaron."

He obliged with a guttural moan, hammering into you with all his strength. The bed creaked beneath you, rocking with the force of his thrusts. You could feel him pulsing inside you, growing thicker and harder with each passing second.

"Cum for me, baby," he groaned, his voice strained with effort. "Come all over my cock. I want to feel you squeezing me."

His words were all it took to send you hurtling over the edge once more. You came with a near-silent scream, your body shuddering and convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Aaron followed a second later, burying himself deep inside you and flooding your womb with his seed.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you gasping for breath as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasms. He pressed soft kisses to your face and neck, murmuring words of love and devotion against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you whispered back, tangling your fingers in his hair. "More than anything."

He smiled against your skin, rolling onto his side and pulling you close. You nestled into his arms, your body still tingling with pleasure. As you drifted off to sleep, safe and sated in his embrace, you knew that this was where you belonged.

[ninjago-neo]

Designed a civilian version of Harumi since she’s good(?) now. I have a few thoughts on her/headcanons below!

- I designed her to keep some parts of her aesthetic in her villain clothes to make it look like regular wear, but still seem like it fits her personality. She’s still rough around the edges and really, really likes belts(as I’ve seen in the minifigs at least)  - I imagine she feels exposed without having the large amount of makeup and/or mask she wears. To her, it was a way to have her enemy’s intepret her exactly as she wanted them to. Like in her past, it helps her keep up appearances even when not in the right state of mind, which is a place she doesn’t want anyone to see through. So even though she can’t have a scary mask or makeover, she still can’t fully transition to none.  - She’s not exactly shy, but moreso awkward as she has no idea how to reintegrate into society. She was either the right hand woman to evil, or she was a princess. She’s trying, but obviously being a former villain has its downsides.   - She does a LOT of community service on behalf of the city of Ninjago. Kinda likes the mayor’s cat. Still not a people person though, but she’s pretended before, she can do so again.  - I imagine she doesn’t exactly flock to Lloyd at first, because she has no idea how to apologize for what she’s done, and still feels angry even though she knows better. But she does make a friend to bond with(maybe Skylar? Vania could be funnier however. Why not all three? idk)  - When she finally transitions into being more comfortable, maybe she becomes a hero in her own way?  - She realizes her pact with the Overlord has allowed her to keep some of his power, and she uses it to be a sort of “white witch” who uses those evil powers for good. I might design a hero version of her later on. - She bonds with Lloyd later by sharing their experiences of feeling trapped, and her experience with dark magic may help her prescribe advice to Lloyd on his oni powers. Not exactly sure if they’d 100% be friends or more down the line, I guess it would depend on if Harumi truly grows beyond who she was. But id feel like the scars would still remain, so not sure.  - Still sneaky, charismatic, and lies but moreso to be more convincing and make things easier for the ninja.  - My style allows eye colors to exist and I chose green for a corny reason. Besides being the jade princess, she’s had her eye on Lloyd for a big part of her life, so her eyes are green fhdhfjjdjs stupid symbolism 

[acrobattack]

just grown-up things

[o0kawaii0o]

Movie date

[buttercatrho]

There are some spoilers for crosscode down here ok forge forge dont look

an IRL Lea (hornless beast) my buddy cikie (cikrovat on tumblr) gave me the idea for this and also talked about it with me and helped me develop ideas if you dont know them are you insane theyre cracked please stare at their art but yea fun irl au, idk all the details exactly yet (i keep automatically thinking of it as like current day au but idk if i want that or i want it in the same time period as the game is set). There's a couple more art ideas I have for it but idk if ill ever get around to making them. idk exactly what to do with her parents because i know she gains a lot LOT more freedom at some point which i really doubt they'd just allow with this image ive made of them, so they might be dead rip sorry lea

[solcarow]

.

[orcelito]

As soon as my arm recovers from the aches it'll be all over for that bowling alley

[holographicbutch]

I have such a Talee'ah brainworm rn it's unreal. Any time I see a group of characters in media I imagine what she would be like in that group and in one-on-one interactions with them and it's really taking up way too much of my brain space

[supercutszns]

rotten to the touch; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.

warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’

notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain

You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.

It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.

It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.

Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.

But everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.

But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?

Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.

You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.

During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.

He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.

Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.

Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.

Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.

The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.

But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.

An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”

“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.

You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”

You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.

The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.

Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.

To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?

They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:

“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”

You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.

“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.

Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.

The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.

He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.

“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.

“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”

It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”

You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”

His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”

You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”

The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.

“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”

“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.

He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”

It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”

“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”

Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.

But when you play, you play to win.

“You don’t know that,” he dares.

“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”

However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.

He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”

All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.

“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.

He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”

The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.

“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”

His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.

“One of?” You challenge.

“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”

You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”

His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”

There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.

His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.

His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”

“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”

Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.

He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.

He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”

“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.

He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”

Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.

It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.

He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.

After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.

“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.

“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”

“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”

“Thanks, dipshit.”

“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”

The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.

The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.

He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”

He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.

After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.

He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”

And damn it, you really do believe him.

[autogyne-redacted]

Let's Talk About Security Culture: Why Keeping Secrets is Cool and Sexy

It's a natural impulse -- if you love crime -- to want to talk about how great it is. And if you hate America, it's only natural to want to share your dreams for its future with the rest of tumblr dot com. It can feel brave and transgressive. And there is a drive to share your soul with the world at the heart of social media. Surely I should be posting the most concrete implications of my politics, right? This is the poster's curse.

Security Culture refers to a set of "best practices" developed over the past several decades, largely (in a US context) coming out of radical environmental groups as they faced intense state repression, infiltration and entrapment. If you're not familiar, there's some fascinating crimethinc write ups to give you a window into that world:

Much of it boils down to: don't talk about crimes, past or forthcoming with people who don't need to know about them, and be mindful of the possibility of surveillance and infiltration. And, we can support each other as a community in minimizing risks, with an eye towards enabling bold action rather than getting bogged down in fears and anxieties. The guidelines that make sense for AG-based trouble-makers are different from the guidelines that make sense for posters, but plenty of common principles apply. To speak briefly to our position here as posters:

First, it bears saying that long term anonymity is nearly impossible to maintain. Unless you've never accessed Tumblr without a vpn, and avoided connections with other ppl who can be associated with you/your location, and never shared pictures without scrubbing metadata, and a bunch of other 100% consistent steps, it's trivial for the state to know who you are.

Second, just because something isn't actively being prosecuted now doesn't mean it can't be prosecuted later. The priorities of the state change and a shift in power towards the right or a growth in radical action from the left can suddenly make it a priority to destroy anarchist networks or just find a few ppl to prosecute as examples (who probably weren't that plugged into larger networks before getting arrested). Advocating for specific anti-government crimes or declarations of intent to commit such crimes are likely prosecutable, and even if charges don't stick, they're an easy vector for legal harassment.

Third, it's worth thinking about heat as separate from prosecutability. There are modes of engagement that may not be directly criminalized but signal that you are someone worth watching. Some people choose to be public in ways that make heat unavoidable. But it's worth noting that heat isn't strictly individualized, that it persists over time but also is going to shrink over time.

It's easy on here, ime, to see yourself as a proud member of the crime fandom but not much of a content creator. And it's easy to feel like you've generated an amount of heat where you're locked into that role. But heat you generated 10 years ago is probably pretty well gone. Heat you generated 5 years ago has faded substantially. It's worth thinking about how the world might shift in the coming years and what doors you want to keep open.

The non-individualized nature of heat also means that leaning into the spiciest of anti-state positions will make it a bad idea for people who are acting out those positions end up tied to you. Loudly talking about how "more people should be doing [X/Y/Z]" unfortunately sets you up to remain distant from people who might be doing or thinking about doing such things.

Which brings me back to: keeping secrets is sexy. Not spelling everything out builds intrigue. You can lay out a theoretical position and leave working out the practical implications of that as an exercise for the reader. There's value in opacity. The poster's curse and the drive to confess are extremely convenient for the state, but we can resist them. We can hold dreams in our hearts that we refuse to offer up to the posting spectacle.

[yourprettylildoe]

𝒟ℯ𝓋ℴ𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃

Yandere!bodyguard

♡ Money or not, he's always near.

Note: slight violence, implications of a bad relationship.

Once upon a time, you too were a little girl staring at the TV screen all starry eyed. It was a dream of yours to be like one of those lovely women living the life.

Now, you felt what it was like. Basking in the warmthness of luxury and popularity, it was all you ever wanted.

But fame had an ugly side to it.

Forget the hate — the feeling of eyes wathing your every move, picking apart your every expression to the last bit was exhausting. It was a price to pay, a fellow co-star once advised as your career shot up drastically.

Thankfully, the problem didn't really persist. Matteo was by your side. Even if he was getting paid to do so.

The bodyguard had the muscles for the job and his experience was nothing short of amazing. He worked with countless celebrities bigger than you ever would be. Though, that is the bit that confused you. Why would he settle for you? A big name in the fim industry did offer him a job that paid twice than what you did.

He was doing this for the money...

...right?

♡

"Matteo," you sung softly from behind the curtain. Currently, you were at a store and trying on some outfits.

"Yes, ma'am?" Matteo replied, carrying designer bags on both arms.

Strutting out, you twirled around in the dress. It was a pretty blue colour that fitted you perfectly, almost made specifically for you. He swallowed, throat going dry.

You gushed, "Oh, isn't this perfect? I just have to get it. What do you think?"

His mind went a little fuzzy at that, his heart beating thump thump against his chest. Almost as if he forgot how to speak.

No one could rival a sight like yours, and he's seen lots of sights ever since he decided to protect famous figures worldwide from his youth. However, you carried a charisma, an air about you that was so...enticing.

Was it an exaggeration? No.

Well, was it an understatement? 100%.

Before Matteo could even process the overwhelming feelings all at once, your concerned face came into view. "Are you okay?"

Almost frantically, he nodded. "Yes, yes, I'm fine."

The baby blue dress bounced up and down as you beamed, amusement creeping nto your tone.

"Do you not think my dress looks nice?"

How could you even think that? Just seeing you like this made him so giddy like a schoolgirl, because you were trying on dresses for him. It was a privilege.

"N-no, ma'am, it's so..." Matteo breathed out, "...beautiful."

"Then I'll get the dress! It's not everyday you call something beautiful, 'teo!" You clapped your hands, disappearing back into the dressing room and not giving him time to even react at yiur careful consideration of his opinion.

A smile grew upon his lips as heat rushed to his cheeks and the area downwards.

For the first time in all his years of looming over his clients like a shadow, he never felt wanted, the relationships consisting of professional contracts.

He wouldn't get a single cent and still thank you for letting him protect you.

You got him in too deep. Suffer the consequences of your actions.

Surely, keeping him around meant something?

♡

The car halted in front of the gala.

Perched on the backseat, you wore the pretty blue dress along with your hair and makeup styled to match.

Matteo stared longingly at you through the rear-view mirror. Your pouty lips were coated in gloss, a forbidden place he'd never touch but only look

He cleared his throat. "Ready to go in, ma'am?"

With a nod, you both walked into the event. A bombshell and the striking wolf behind her.

Familiar faces painted on forced smiles as they mingled, paparazzi's cameras flickering constantly.

You were the only authentic one.

"Oh, y/n, I just adore your outfit." A woman who walked up to you complimented.

As you thanked her, Matteo watched like a hawk. He couldn't afford any risks especially when someone tried to slip someting in your drink right in front of him last time.

Amidst the crowd, you both failed to notice some of the paparazzi's attention zeroing in on your bodyguard's intense eyes thay never left you.

Click.

It would make a good story.

All it took was one, stupid glance away, then you vanished out of thin air.

Everything went downhill from there.

Like a rabid dog, Matteo tore through the sea of people, his eyes looking around for your gorgeous, unmistakable features.

Where are you?

You can't go. A dog can't be left alone without his owner.

Please be okay.

♡

You were not okay.

"C'mon, honey, I know you want this too!" That disgusting voice pleaded, paired with a sleazy grin.

Your imbecile of an ex boyfriend couldn't seem to take a hint.

Over a year ago, you had to leave the toxic relationship. Along with being a professional cheater, he also seemed to have a masters in manipulation and narcissism. Now, you were stuck with him in a secluded area. Great.

Frantically, you looked around for Mattheo. Surely, he'd be here any minute. Did he not notice your absence?

"Get off of me! I told you I don't want to see you ever again!" You exclaimed, your voice cracking at the end and making you sound so weak.

All it took was a moment of vunerability for him to go absolutely condescending on you, "I missed you too, babe. Stop playing and let's go back to the way we were." You smelt alchohol on his breath, dread filling your stomach. He got the scariest when drunk.

No matter how much you pulled your wrist out of his grasp, he didn't budge. Were the endless articles about your breakup that went on for months not enough to drive him away?

"Leave me alone!"

"Babe, don't play hard to get."

"No, I'm not, go away."

"You are. Let's go ho-"

"No!"

Without thinking, your hand connected with his cheek, leaving a pink mark in its wake.

Slowly, he reached up to touch it in shock, his dumb gaze flickering from you to his hand on his face. Then, those eyes went absolutely feral.

Almost instantly, he pushed you to the floor, making you hit your side with a wince.

In a terrifying voice, he snarled: "Disgusting woman. I don't know what I even saw in a girl like you who thinks she's all that. Ungrateful."

This is what happened every time. It was like a cycle that no matter how much you tried to break, it managed to suck you back into the same scenario with new blooming bruises to match the old ones.

"I should teach you a lesson. Put you back in your place, what do ya think?

Tears filled your eyes as you peered up at him, "p-please no-"

"Shut up!" He barked, "how annoying can you be? I should get it over with, maybe you'll thank me for it someday."

You raised a hand to cover yourself from the-

A certain force collided into his body.

The two figures tumbled to the ground. Wide, almost insane eyes peered into your ex's.

Matteo. He never looked this terrifying, almost possessed.

Over and over again, the guy received punches like hammers to the point where he almost looked unrecognisable. In that moment, all he saw was red.

"You think you can touch her and can get away with it? You don't even deserve to breathe the same air as her, damn it!" Your guard dog snarled, his teeth bared.

The only things that stopped him from killing the pig were the people who held him back, otherwise Mattheo would be in prison. However, it was still a struggle to hold back the muscular hulk.

Matteo glared while he struggled, "If she wasn't here, you'd be six feet under by now."

His fists shook as the voices inside him demanded more.

Kill him.

Kill him.

He touched your girl.

Snapping out of it, he looked over to where you were curled up against the floor, pitiful sobs escaping your lips. Poor thing.

A silhouette crouched down to your level, despite it still towering over you.

The familiar hands, now coated in blood, cupped your face. "Don't cry. See? I took care of him. The punk doesn't deserve your tears."

Your face was tilted up, your teary eyes framed by the smudged eye makeup.

He brought your shivering form to his chest, nose buried in your hair. Your arms wrapped around him, sobbing into his chest, the safe haven you found solace in.

"You should know by now I'd do anything to protect you."

That was a promise he kept and intended to still keep. Even if he wanted to break it, he couldn't.

After all, loyalty was burned and embedded into his soul, like the devoted man he'll always be.

♡

𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎

@yourprettylildoe

[sierrale8ne]

mom oc with paige? she can be the one who stepped up but once they get alone it gets smutty

paige bueckers x mom!oc

nsfw // really long, porn with plot, takes place when paige is in the w (year 3 in LA), stepmommy paige, soft!dom!paige, sub!oc, fingering, dirty talk, nipple play, some soft smut and very sweet fluff!

saveareaves_

liked by cameronbrink22, nikamuhl, and 24,061 others

saveareaves_ fits gotta stay hard even in 100° weather 🙂‍↕️

view all comments

stormreid flyest mom ever 😮‍💨 liked by author

user1 hey so how about you stop gatekeeping that camera roll and give us a photo of you and paige and zion 😅😅 just a suggestion!

paigebueckers Featured 🙂‍↕️

╰ saveareaves_ always 💋

cameronbrink22 zion’s little hand 🥹

╰ saveareaves_ can’t keep her hands to herself lol

jujubballin 🤩🤩

user ur tan lines… savea you want me dead????

azzi35 i can’t wait to see you guys 😣

╰ saveareaves_ soon my girl ❤️‍🔥

Savea huffed lowly as she set her wax stick on her vanity, gently tugging her jet black hair into a ponytail at the top of her head, slicking it to perfection before dropping her hands and rolling her shoulders. Her two and a half year old daughter, Zion, sat on the carpeted floor near her feet playing with a unicorn plushie gifted to her by Savea’s girlfriend.

When Savea first met Paige, she was 23 years old and Zion was around a year old. She had just gotten out of an extremely toxic relationship with her child’s father who was ultimately out of the picture immediately after they broke up, and not looking for any type of relationship.

But Paige was simply different. She was very patient with her, understanding that Savea still wasn’t used to being treated as amazingly as Paige treated her nor was she used to communicating her feelings and emotions. But it was very easy to fall for her because Paige was an amazing woman who genuinely wouldn’t hurt a fly.

When Savea took that next step in introducing the athlete to her daughter, Paige practically fell in love all over again. Zion, though very young, was still a complete carbon copy of Savea. From her eyes to the shape of her nose and even her smile.

There was nothing the woman loved more than watching Paige become a parental figure to Zion. Caring for her when she woke up at night, to bringing her back gifts from every single road trip. She even went as far as having designated time with Zion every Sunday (yes, even when she was on the road), no excuses.

They were currently getting ready for one of Paige’s games where the Sparks would be playing the Valkyries in a California classic. It was the first home game back from all-star break and the game was heavily marketed, mostly because of the Sparks biggest stars in Paige, Cameron Brink, and Rickea Jackson going up against Paige’s former UConn teammates Azzi Fudd and Nika Mühl.

Savea was excited, not only because of the atmosphere, but being able to meet some of her girlfriend’s favorite people in person (finally) was something she was looking forward to.

“Mommy!” Zion’s voice ran through her ear as she picked her up off the floor, holding her to her hip as she grabbed her bag and other necessities all at once.

“Yes, Z?”

Zion brought her little hand up towards her face before gesturing towards the unicorn on the floor. Savea chucked before bending over and picking it up, handing it to her daughter.

“Thank you, mommy.”

“You’re welcome, my baby.”

***

Shuffling the excited toddler into the car and keeping her entertained throughout the ride to Crypto.com Arena was definitely a bit of a struggle, but once they got closer to the arena Zion settled a little bit.

Her cream colored kitten heels clicked against the yellow hardwood floor, while Zion ran by her feet.

Paige wanted them to show up a little before shoot around so she could meet everyone before the fans started to pack the stands. She had even made sure the two were able to get into the family and eat something before the game, it was very considerate of her and Savea made sure to thank her for it later.

“Paigey!” The little girl screamed, spotting the blonde in a courtside seat finishing up a conversation with one of her assistant coaches. An iPad between them as they looked at film.

She looked up, pushing back the flyaways of her slick back bun. She opened up her arms, leaning forward towards the end of the seat. “Hey, babygirl!” A grin so big it reached her eyes she she picked Zion up in her arms.

The little girl’s short arms wrapped around her neck while Paige peppered her cheeks with kisses. Savea smiled from her spot a few feet away, adjusting the Marc Jacobs bag on her shoulder.

“P, look!” She yelled, fingers pointing to the white shirt Savea styled her in with Paige’s face on it. “D’you like it?”

“I love it, Z! Thank you so much.”

Paige had brought her attention away from Zion’s shirt, listening to her talk about her day with her mom as she walked up towards Savea. She was fairly shameless in the way she sized her up. The black backless shirt with gold jewelry complemented her carmel skin wonderfully. Her cheetah print pants sat beautifully low waisted on her hips, and face done up to accentuate her already goddess like appearance.

Savea noticed, calling her closer with her forefinger before planting a short kiss on her lips.

“Hey, ma. You good?” Paige asked, disappointed that the kiss she’d been thinking about all day only lasted for a few seconds.

“Mmhm.”

“You look good.” Her girlfriend complemented. Her hand briefly went to cover Zion’s eyes with her hand before she jokingly, and dramatically, bit her lip. She mouthed something a little too nasty because Savea’s jaw dropped and she hit the blonde’s arm with a force she didn’t even know she had.

“Ow! Z, mommy just hit me!” Paige pouted.

“Mommy, don’t hit her!” Zion frowned, crossing her arms on her chest and Paige stuck her tongue out in victory.

This is what she regretted about introducing the two. Paige was literally a six year old trapped in an adults body. The two together was like working at a daycare. Savea reluctantly apologized, rolling her eyes at Paige when her daughter stopped glaring at her with her adorable brown doe eyes.

“Okay, so,” Paige started. “I have some people who really really want to meet you, is that okay with you, Z?” She asked, running her fingers through Zion’s curly hair. Azzi and Nika were just walking into the gym from their side of the arena, their lavender colored warmups slowly approaching the group of three. The child curled into Paige’s chest, looking to her mom for some sort of support.

Savea nodded. “It’s okay! We’ll go with you, princess. Don’t be scared.” She smiled, instating some confidence into the little girl’s heart.

“Okay.” Zion mumbled, reaching for her mom and Paige allowed the other woman to take her from her grasp.

***

“But I thought you wear yellow and purple?” Zion yawned as she looked up at Paige slightly confused.

It had been a little over two hours after the game had ended. The match up living up to its expectations. The Sparks had thankfully came out with a two point victory 88-86 thanks to a game saving block by Cameron on Nalyssa Smith in the last few seconds.

Paige had played great, and both Savea and Zion nearly lost their voices cheering for her. A 29 point game coupled with 10 rebounds and 6 assists, a few steals and a memorable block added to the stat sheet as well.

The blonde sat on the carpeted floor of Savea’s LA Apartment. Zion sat soundly in her lap, taking sips from the warm milk Paige had provided her to get her to sleep, it was definitely a little past the toddler’s usual bedtime. After getting back from the game Zion could not stop talking about how cool she thought Paige’s job was, so her bedtime story hearing about and looking at memories from Paige’s career up until now. Pictures from when she played at Hopkins, to when she held that National Title trophy over her head during her last year at UConn. (a/n: manifesting)

“Well I do now, but I used to wear white and blue for a very long time.” Paige explained.

“I like blue.” Zion Yawned again, and Paige took the sippy cup away from her little hands.

“I know you do.” Paige laughed, wiping the dribble of milk that fell from her lips. “I think it might be bedtime for you, princess.”

She didn’t miss the frown that spread across Zion’s face, “I don’t wanna!” She whined, shaking her head viciously and burying herself deeper into Paige’s hold. “Please, Paigey?”

Paige very clearly hated telling Zion ‘no.’ She felt like the words should never even form on her tongue when talking to the little girl, but it was past 11:30 at night and keeping her up longer would only be a recipe for disaster come morning time. “It’s late, baby girl. You gotta go to bed.”

Savea could sense her daughter getting frustrated, so she walked over. She sat on the sofa that Paige rested her back against. Her hand subconsciously slipping to cup Paige’s cheek. “Z, let her put you to bed, okay? You got all day tomorrow to do whatever you want.” She reasoned.

Zion looked over to Paige, her frown turning into a smile when she stood up on her thighs and wrapped her arms around her neck. “One more story? Please!” Dragging out the ending sound, Zion eagerly jumped up and down.

“Okay! Okay, one more, that’s it.” Paige gave in. “But we’re going upstairs.”

“Thank you, mama.”

Paige’s brows furrowed for a few milliseconds before her head shot up to look at Savea. The expression on her face was incredulous. Savea simply shrugged, a matching smile on her face.

“Did you just call me, mama?” Paige asked, returning her attention to Zion.

“Sorry, I won’t—”

“No. No! Don’t apologize, princess. Of course you can call me that. I’d love it if you called me that.” Paige reassured. She held Zion close, probably closer than she’d even realized.

Savea didn’t fight the smile that formed on her face. She was very stingy with who she allowed around her daughter, and rightfully so. When she had first introduced Zion to Paige she had only hoped that Paige would be around for a long time, not only to protect her heart but Zion’s as well. This was even more than she had expected. It was heartwarming and she was so grateful to be able to watch the two’s relationship form into what it was now.

***

Savea finally made her way to her bathroom after watching Paige hold Zion to her chest and take her into her bedroom. This was another thing she loved about having the athlete around, she didn’t have to do it all alone. She was able to take time for herself in ways she wasn’t able to do before.

She had gotten out of the shower, body clean and smelling of her Vanilla body wash. Her favorite rose colored night robe on her body as she finished the rest of skin care routine. A few knocks on her door got her attention.

She tugged the door open to reveal her girlfriend. The blonde stepped into the brightly lit bathroom, her arms immediately wrapping around Savea’s waist and pulling her close. Paige tucked her head into the woman’s neck, “You smell nice.”

“Thank you! It’s that new body butter you got me.” Savea answered. Her hands dropped to hold onto the arms around her waist. Paige still had on her outfit from the game. A simple white graphic t-shirt that had the sleeves cut off; she was obviously in the mood to show off her muscles tonight. Her baggy light wash jeans clung low to her hips, the band of her Calvin Klein’s peaking out. “You played good tonight, it was kinda hot.” She changed the subject.

Paige’s lips puckered, pushing a kiss to Savea’s neck. She was soft with it, teasing as she looked into her eyes through the mirror. “I had a baddie sitting in the box, I had to show out.” She joked. Savea rolled her eyes at the cockiness that ran through her body.

“Okay, Jordan Poole.”

“I’m serious! You shoulda seen her, baby. She got a pretty smile, body on a whole different level, she was cheering me on the whole game too.” Paige continued, she slightly rocked the two side to side as she spoke.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm, definitely a MILF. Shoulda seen her.” She teased. Paige kissed Savea’s neck again. Her hand moved to the silk string of her robe, playing with it but not tugging the robe open. “She ain’t got shit on you though.

“At all?”

“Nope. You just do something different to me. Can’t ever be replicated.” Paige said. She gently turned Savea around so she could look at her pretty face up close. Her eyes raked her girlfriend’s body, her tits just barely peaked out of the top of the silk cover up. The curve of Savea’s hips, though, was probably Paige’s favorite. Her skin was decorated in pretty stretch marks that she always made sure to show extra love to.

Savea puckered her lips, teasingly sticking them out for Paige to finally kiss them. Connecting them in a gentle kiss, Paige cupped Savea’s cheeks in her hand as she kissed them repeatedly. Savea let her, shoulders relaxing into Paige’s comfort as she melted into the kiss.

Paige’s tongue pushed slowly between her lips. It was a feeling and a taste she would never get over, even after these last couple years together. Savea tasted like candy, like hot chocolate on a snow day, like ice cream. So familiar and sweet.

Paige moaned softly and it spurred Savea on as she sucked dangerously on the pink muscle. Paige kisses back harder, the only signs of breathing being the short sounds of air leaving her nose.

The blonde pulled back delicately, pressing her pink lips to Savea’s cheek, then her jaw, and finally on her earlobe. “Sav?”

“Hmm?” She responded.

“Can I take this off?” Paige gestured towards her robe, tugging on the lace hem with the tips of her fingers.

Savea nodded, eyes going wide and eager. “Please.”

Her slender fingers untied the knot that kept the frail fabric together, watching it fall open around Savea’s body. Her breasts round and decorated with her hardened nipples and ridiculously sexy tan lines. A low whistle left Paige’s mouth as she continued sizing her up.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, baby. My God.” Paige exclaimed. Her hands traveled up to Savea’s tits, cupping them before they moved to her hips. “Take these off.” She instructed. Her fingers snapped the simple navy colored cotton underwear against her hips. Savea reached to pull them off until the pooled by her feet and Paige took it as an opportunity to take off her white shirt, leaving her in a black Nike sports bra and her jeans.

To say Savea’s gawked at her body would be an understatement.

She stood practically drooling. Her abs were so defined and the muscles on her arms unintentionally flexed with each movement she made. The sight alone was more than enough to have her soaking wet between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together, hoping to alleviate the pressure there.

“Babe, I don’t think you understand how bad I need you right now.”

“Show me then.”

Savea’s legs slightly parted, giving Paige room to step closer and stand between them more. A hand gripped her waist while the other trailed from the center of her chest and down her stomach. Savea rested against the counter, her palms flush against the cool marble sink when Paige ran her middle finger through her folds.

The slick pooled on her finger, catching her by surprise. She brought her finger to her lips, licking her girlfriend’s precum off of it before licking her lips.

“Hiding that from me all day, Sav?”

“Paige c’mon.” Savea breathed out, her head lolling to the side where she looked at Paige teasingly. A pout gracing her face.

She wanted more and Paige could tell, so her finger slipped inside slowly, gently parting her folds and brushing her walls with the long finger. Savea took a deep breath following that with a bite of her plump bottom lip. Her fingers were good company while Paige was busy, but they never did the job as well as her girlfriend did.

“Shit, you’re already dripping?” Paige groaned at the sight.

“You don’t know how sexy you look when you play.” Savea defended, but her mind was elsewhere, namely the slight rake of Paige’s long finger moving inside of her. “Been like this for hours, P.”

“You think you can take another?”

“Two more. Fuck, I’ll take three more. Just fuck me, P.”

Paige was never one for making her woman wait, so she nudged her clit gently with her ring finger. Her hand stilled before pushing in the second finger followed by the third. Savea’s insane wetness made it easy.

“You’re so tight, Sav.” Paige mumbled, dragging her fingers in and out at a dangerously slow pace. Her lip tucked between her teeth while she watched Savea’s body writhe. “You like that, baby?”

She nodded in response, a moan mixed with a whine leaving her pouted lips.

Paige’s head traveled to her girlfriend’s chest. Her lips kissing gently on it before traveling to her tits. She grasped one in her hand, tongue slowly peeking out of her mouth to lick Savea’s sensitive nipple. Paige did it again, but this time softly biting on the flesh. Her fingers started speeding up, the thickness of the three combined with the sucking on her tits made Savea’s eyes roll.

“Ha— Paige. Oh fuck, just like that.” She whimpered. Her hand cradled Paige’s head, fingers tangling into the long blonde hair. Her head fell back as she gripped onto the edge of the sink with her free hand. “Feels ‘s good.” Savea praised.

Her girlfriend’s lips continued with opened mouth kisses across her skin, tongue teasing her nipples and soothing the hickeys that formed there. The pace Paige had set for herself was dreadfully slow, teasing that one spot over and then slowing down before speeding up again. She pulled back from Savea’s chest, biting her bottom lip while she moved.

“You’re so pretty, Sav.” Paige complemented. Her arm began to sting, her muscles tensing from the increased rigor. Her middle finger curved just slightly and Savea’s head shot up with a shade of pink accented on her cheeks. “Oh my God, listen to that.” Paige fired. The wetness of Savea’s cunt was doing unimaginable things to her, soaking her boxers without a doubt.

“Baby,” Savea started. Her hand darted down to her clit, but Paige pushed the hand away.

Her need for control was so apparent. Her tall and muscular body towered over her menacingly and Savea craved it. She lived off of that feeling.

“Let me get you right.” Paige groaned as she pressed her thumb to the woman’s clit. She applied a steady pressure to the nerves, rubbing tight circles over it. “Fuck you just like you need it. You’re takin’ it so good, mama.”

“It’s so fucking—sensitive.” Savea gasped.

She raised in volume, and although the feeling was otherworldly, she still had her child sleeping in the room next door. Her hand pressed to her mouth to silence her growing cries.

Paige’s fingers pressed against her spot over and over and over again. The curling of her fingers hit that gummy spot and made Savea’s legs nearly give out on her. Her stomach was doing summersaults and the knot tightened.

“Let it go, Sav.” Paige instructed. “All down my hand, let that shit go.” Her veiny hand peeled Savea’s palm from her mouth. Paige’s lips hovered over hers, nearly touching but not yet as she breathed in all of her girlfriend’s breathless pleas. “Let me hear you.”

“‘M so close.”

“I know, Ma.”

“You’re so deep.”

Paige smirked at that, pushing her hand further until a squeal escaped Savea. “I’ll go deeper. Just need you to cum. Make a mess on this floor, go ‘head.”

“Paige!” Savea hiccuped, a groan leaving her lips as she steadied a hand on her broad shoulder. Eyes glued shut and mouth agape as she approached her climax.

“Look at me, love.” Paige spoke softly. Her hand slipped to the back of Savea’s neck, refocusing her attention.

Savea’s eyes blinked open, a glassy look on her brown eyes. Her body was on fire thanks to Paige, she knew her like the back of her hand. The blonde hit her spot with ease, repeatedly pushing at her button and rubbing her clit simultaneously until Savea’s legs shook and she gripped her shoulder with an electric force as she came.

Her jaw fell slack, her moans coming out as more dragged out breaths. Her chest heaved, and Paige’s eyes remained glued to her, even after she broke their eye contact. Her cum pooled in Paige’s palm, the sticky substance coating her hand and Savea’s thighs.

The athlete took another step forward to connect their lips, her fingers gently slipping out of her cunt. “I love you.” She spoke in between short pecks.

“I love you too, P.” Savea whispered back.

Her arms finally draped around her shoulders to hold her close, and Paige’s wildly exhausted ones fell together at Savea’s hips. They stood like that for a while softly shifting side to side while Savea caught her breath. Her head fit perfectly in Paige’s neck, inhaling the scent of her cologne that still managed to stay on throughout the night. Paige’s clean hand drew circles on her lower back, muttering soft, sweet nothings into her ear.

“Paige?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I say this all the time, but I really am so thankful for everything you do to help me out with Z.” Savea’s voice was low, she nearly drifted off to sleep right where she stood. “None of it goes unnoticed.”

“Baby don’t worry about it. You’re my family, I’m just doing my part.” Paige spoke into Savea’s hair. This was her life. Sure she got to play the sport she loved and the fame and attention that came with it was an added bonus, but she had Savea and Zion. Her motivation to keep going, even when she hated going to the gym in the morning. She had a family. “Oh my God, she called me mama today.” Paige finally realized.

She couldn’t fight the smile that formed on her face even if she tried. Savea nodded from her spot in Paige’s neck, giggling like a child when she looked up into her girlfriend’s bright blues.

“I know! You should’ve seen your face.” Savea pointed out, and just like that Paige was joining her in laughter, holding her lover close by while she talked.

And when their night came to an end, after they took a shower (yes another shower for Savea) and the girl returned the favor to Paige in said shower. After all was said and Savea fell asleep in the strong arms of her lover, Paige closed her eyes with a smile on her face. Thinking of her girl, and their little family.

paigebueckers posted a story !

tagged saveareaves_

authors note so so so cute, thank you anon! domestic paige is my favvvvvvorite but i thought it would be weird to write about her like this while she’s still at uconn idk.. so LA PAIGE (💔)

[aireia]

pretty. — shopping for your wedding gown went a little wrong.

tw/cw: tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, fluff/crack, reader wears a dress + satoru calls them his future wife —masterlist

you smile and place your palms under your chin, wondering how you got to this point. your snowy haired fiancé is currently twirling around with a custom tailored wedding gown… which he wasn’t going to be wearing on your wedding day anyway, because he would never hear the end of it from his first year trio. okay, yuji probably wouldn’t have said anything, but nobara and megumi would bully him out of his own wedding. without a doubt, 100 percent.

your mind tried running through the events that had unfolded over the past two weeks, finally stopping at where everything started.

-

“pretty.” 

those were the only words that satoru gojo had to say the moment the both of you had found the perfect wedding dress for you. detailed right down to the final bits of the dress, it matched you perfectly with your favourite flowers weaved into the design, just the perfect length… it was everything you were looking for.

the sound of your soft laughter brought him out of his awestruck expression. “thank you, but as much as i love it, it feels just a little uncomfortable.” you sounded a little disappointed, and satoru couldn’t help but notice every little shift and movement you made… especially that mischievous look in your eyes and grin plastered on your face the moment you thought of a ‘solution.’ 

“maybe you should be the one in a dress at our wedding. i’m sure the strongest can handle a little bit of discomfort.”  

now, you and gojo had known each other for probably more than a decade. he knew better than anyone else that you were joking. but you were basically challenging him with that last sentence, right? 

he abruptly stood up from the couch he was sitting on once you had gotten to changing out of the wedding gown before marching off to one of the nearby employees and asking about any dresses his size, only to be met with the response of, “this is an unusual request, but there are quite a few dresses that would compliment you-” the employee coughed a few times before continuing, “-but we are closing soon, so there might not be enough time to try them on-” 

“i'll take all of them.”

“pardon?”

“including the one my future wife chose. okay thanks!”

the total came up to about 1.2 million yen. for a dress for you and those 3 gowns the employee picked out, it horrified everyone present at the counter. everyone but him, of course. 

back to present time, that’s how you found yourself being the one and only audience member for your beloved’s fashion show. for a good reason, you wanted to chew him out for spending that recklessly. then again, this is the same guy who decides to buy two of the same items no matter how expensive it is “just in case the other one goes missing.”

you sigh softly before turning your attention back onto him. he’s currently trying on the final dress, and has finally got rid of the sunglasses. you can’t help but admit that he actually looks good in the dress, sparkling with all the right types of gems and jewels, paired with his now visible long eyelashes, he looks pretty. 

“so? how do i look!!?” satoru asks with enthusiasm, spinning around you in circles. 

“hmm, maybe i should be the one wearing your suit that day instead,” you jokingly say to him. he understood, laughing before ruffling your hair. 

“as if i’d let you.” a comfortable silence filled the air afterwards, being broken afterwards by satoru confessing, “i dream of seeing you wearing that in front of me at the altar, you know?”

your eyes at this. you weren’t expecting him to say something like that so sudden. 

“i can wear it at night when-” satoru’s sentence was cut off by a light punch to his gut. 

“hell no.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

@rninies still can't write fluff unfortunately, writing this fried my brain

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 

Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 

Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 

It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 

It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 

He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 

“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.

“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 

“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.

“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 

“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 

“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 

“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 

“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 

Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.

“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 

And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 

The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!

[kei-kinda-writes]

S/O from the support course!!

TYPE: Headcannons, includes: How you meet, How you end up together, and general/extra

CHARACTERS (separate): Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Ochako Uraraka

WARNING: Mentions and references to some of the final battles and events from the series but nothing too big

SHOTO TODOROKI

How you meet:

100% you two met after the sports festival most likely getting help for redesigning his hero costume!!

Assuming it took awhile to choose the designs probably met and had lunch together several times and grew closer

Although lunches were mostly focused on his costume once in awhile would turn into small talk and getting to know one another leading to exchanging numbers

Once finished his costume out of habit started sitting with you

Definitely ended in an interrogation from Midoriya, Ochako, and Iida after he kept on going missing during lunch to sit with you

Grew closer always sitting with one another during lunch and after over text

How you end up together:

Probably went to his friends for help about his feelings 

either one of them or he let it slip one lunch and did not realize

Two ways this ends up playing out

Either one: You ask him about it and the two of you talking about it over text that night and putting a label on it (not entirely sure)

Or two: You completely ignore it and he ends confessing like wayyyy later

Either way most likely required pushing from Ochako, Iida, and Midoriya

General:

Will find the smallest errors about his costume just to visit you

If you were to have a sketchbook or journal of some sorts for coming up with designs would put little doodles on the pages ex. smiley faces, cats, maybe even to stick men and heart with ‘us’ in it

If anyone asked about his costume he would (even if not related whatsoever) proudly talk about how you helped him make it

Asked you about whether or not the five wieners kid was right

Always hanging out in the weekend and during lunch due to not sharing any classes

Share bits of each others lunches

Getting close with Midoriya, Ochako, and Iida since you all end up sitting together during lunch ^^

Also with everything that went down in terms of his family situation and other stuff in the first year it’s likely you don’t get together till your second or third year

KATSUKI BAKUGO

How you meet:

Came along with kaminari or kirishima when they were getting costume improvements and met you

You guys were sorta friends for awhile but you weren’t entirely close

Maybe you were the one to propose the idea of his support item in the Shigaraki fight (I forgot what it’s called)

Or he came to you asking about it since you were always doing Kaminari and Kirishimas stuff and you were likely the only support course student he knew and could request it from

Building off that idea it’s probably the only way you guys became friends, I’d imagine you’d end up closer much later in the school year rather then the beginning

You’d end up getting closer as you two worked together on the piece likely meeting after school most times

Potentially gave you a compliment for your work

How you end up together:

It wouldn’t be until you guys are in your second or third year because of your late start

That’s cause I think Bakugo would be someone who very much likes to take his time with relationships

The whole confession was likely a letter on a special holiday probably because he was nervous he’d mess it up and letters are easier

That likely resulted in talking it out over lunch he had set up for you two

Took you to a secluded area not too far from campus with some food he made and you guys put a label on your relationship :))

General:

checks up on you whenever your working outside of school hours and brings you food

Doesn’t yell at you as much as he does at others

NO. MATTER. WHAT. He will always get his costume repaired by you, absolutely refuses to let someone else do it <- this has ended up in several incidents

Recommends you to his friends, 100%

Probably takes you out to lunch to catch up with eachother every once in awhile

Would reluctantly listen if you ramble about costume and support item ideas

building off that he’d probably listen and give his own ideas maybe if you were working with another student would give you feedback on what to add

IZUKU MIDORIYA

How you meet:

You meet around halfway through the school year

Could only be when Hatsume was out sick and he needed repairs on his costume

Either that or Hatsume recommends him to you when she’s busy during school festival

Past then whenever he ended up needed adjustments with his costume and went to visit Hatsume he’d talk to you and check in on you

After some small talk you’d end up exchanging numbers and getting to know eachother better over text

Probably hang out once or twice and invites to join him at lunch! :D

Eventually he starts turning to you and Hatsume for costume adjustments and repairs and you guys slowly grow closer

How you end up together:

Midoriya probably has talked to Uraraka for help

However he’s probably too shy and flustered to confess in person so there’s one of two scenarios

1: he goes to ask Uraraka for help and ends up texting you instead

It ends up a complete incident but you guys talk it out and end up together

OR

2: similarly to bakugo he gives a letter of some sorts and you guys talk about it in a secluded area

You guys likely don’t end up together until your second year though if I’m thinking realistically especially with his dedication towards one for all and being a hero

General:

quirk rambling and analysis together

Study dates :D

Daily good morning texts and stuff since you don’t see eachother super often

Movie dates in each others dorms where you watch documentaries about quirks or all might

Sitting next to eachother during lunch

Maybe he joins you in the support course lab and does his homework or something while you tinker and such :))

Probably lots of time just spent quietly doing work together

Bringing eachother food when either is working for awhile is a 100%

OCHAKO URARAKA

How you meet:

Costume improvements!!!

Specifically working together on her wrist bands, likely took awhile to figure out but you guys ended up close in the end and exchanging numbers!

For the first ‘trial period’ of using them I bet they got tangled often and she’d use that as an excuse to come visit you

Probably got closer over text and it became a very nice friendship

And she would always turn to you about her costume

How you end up together:

Confesses in person, I think she’d prefer to do it face to face even if she’s all anxious and flustered

I think you wouldn’t end up together until your third year due to the events of the final battle

At your grad party she probably took you aside for a a breather and you had a talk

Boom boom and boom you both come back to the party grinning and holding hands and you’re together :))

Very quick and easy but I’m sure her confession was well though out and heartfelt

General:

Eating Mochi together :D

Matching bracelets and stuff if that’s your jam

Building on that you would make them together and everything it would be sweet

Craft and art dates

Walks around the campus together on weekends to catch up with one another

Same as Todoroki if you had a notebook she would doodle in it

Gives you notes with silly drawings since you can’t hang out often!!

Asks for ideas on support items for her costume

I think she’d be fascinated by your work and would end up watching you lots of the time after school

When she changed her hair 100% came to you and you guys figured it out together (probably ended calling in someone else to help though)

Thanks for reading!

Side note: lmk if there’s any other characters you’d like done, I had lots of fun. Additionally apologies if there’s any typos, things don’t make sense, or the characters feel as though they aren’t properly done!

[aboringredmop]

some personal notes from the Becky and Joe q&a!!

magnet from webseries is a boy

computer & family are their favorite episodes

Joe likes the memory song most, Becky likes love

there's more merch coming out!! within a month :)

Becky's fav designs are Lesley and the train, joe likes the mirror because it's stupidly easy

tv show karaoke version on Spotify one day maybe

us event maybe, they want first class plane tickets

the Christmas tv episode was scrapped because their contact only allowed for 6 episodes, would've been fun. there was gonna be a character called Winter Susan

concept art book maybe! they also want to make something educational to fit the theme/vibe of the show

tv soundtrack on Spotify also soon sometime maybe

they would love to go to mexico

they talked about some scrapped characters (Duncan Andrews who was gonna be in Death and is shown in the quiz part of Electricity, care bear- type annoying character who died in the trios bed. clipboard)

duck autotune was removed because of The Government

warren was slightly based off of a real guy who worked with Becky and Joe

they really liked the tawog collab because of how much creative freedom they were given

red guy will be eternal

their favorite animation style within the show is, funnily enough, claymation

Becky and Joe are very big jack stauber fans and would love to collab some day

the deleted wine bottle scene from Time was part of a scrapped piece of lyrics (about aging wine) that was replaced by the rotting apple

Becky Joe and diamond Daniel will officiate your dhmis themed wedding

they're not 100% sure there will be more dhmis episodes, because of the time and money it takes. they feel like it's a bit weird to have a second kickstarter

Blu ray for the tv show maybe? international release soon

any teasers for future (dhmis) stuff will be released on their youtube channel

they're not releasing the pilot, pack it up guys

(legally not allowed, to expensive to buy back I believe? the sped up part at Rotterdam might've not been allowed either. rights are owned by turner)

they have an emailadres where you can send fanart! dhmis1906@gmail.com