#starving oneself

[its-wabby-stuff]

Izuku Midoriya had spent three days with his hands chained to the floor. Two had been spent traveling in a boat with no idea where he was going. He couldn’t count the number of splinters in his arms and legs that came from the drafty wooden floors. Which doubled in letting in cool spring breezes and piercing cold water. He had watched through the cracks as he went from ocean to docks to gravel to dirt, as he headed deeper into the unknown and farther and farther away from his life in Marseilles. From his friends, his dear mother and his love, sweet Ochaco.

He hoped they would not worry too much, as he expected to be returning shortly upon arrival as Monsieur Todoroki must have recognized his mistake by now and sent news. Yet, as the carriage rattled along the bumpy dirt road, a sense of deep dread came over him. What if it hadn’t been a mistake? What if he had actually done something wrong?

[anetherealpoetess]

i laughed when i saw someone on tiktok say how can anyone ship lucy with the ghoul when he sold her for parts and let me just tell you right now, if one character sells another character to a gang with an organ harvesting robot, i will immediately ship them. immediately. zero hesitation. that's peak romance to me.

[zee-aka-pretty]

Anyone else ever want to survive simply by thin air instead of food and water? or is ot just me?

[bandofchimeras]

OP this just drew a lightning-fast connection in my head between nutritional deprivation and autoimmune disorders. think of how rightfully angry SO MANY people would be knowing their lifelong chronic illness or the clusterfuck of autoimmune disorders in their families were directly a result of living in a food desert, or low wages/poverty, or famine in their bloodline & epigenetics. and how many companies & local governments are DIRECTLY responsible for these conditions due to zoning racism, maximizing profit, etc. I don't think I'd be amiss to suggest this may be a large reason we are under-and mis-educated about nutrition in school, especially in a way that leads us to blame ourselves and eat even less.

Why are agriculture classes the first time I've learned extremely basic info about nutrition and how digestion works. Why isn't this stuff in health textbooks or any easily accessible resource about healthy eating.

[subhashdagar123]

[kalira]

Unbearable

Written for @whumptober, Day 12

Prompts: Starvation ‟Just a little more.”

T; 1.4k Kei & Sho

While Kei always knew - painfully deeply - it hurt Sho to see him weak and starving, it seems he is about to find out just how sharp that ache truly lances.

[starryhyuck]

can’t get you out of my mind. (m) — PREVIEW

pairing: alpha!jaehyun x afab!omega!reader

words: 16.2k+

summary: the ceremony to choose your alpha mate has arrived.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: outdated gender roles/stereotypes, some women hating women dynamics (that resolves in the end), mentions of war, mentions of loss during childbirth, disapproval of in-laws, possessive!jaehyun, pregnancy, breeding kink, tiny bit of face riding, bigdick!jaehyun, squirting, knotting, nonstop fucking between jaehyun and reader, public sex, mating

release date: october 24, 2024

this fic is already released for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!

“You silly omegas.”

You jump nearly three feet in the air, gasping and holding your hand to your chest. You swivel around to see Jaehyun standing behind you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in amusement.

“A-Alpha Jeong,” you stutter, bowing your head. “I apologize, I wasn’t aware-“

“You omegas are always starving yourselves in front of us. When are you going to realize alphas are never settled when our omegas aren’t taken care of?” He questions, stepping beside you and taking out the leftover steak in the fridge.

You keep your eyes planted to the ground as he moves around you, heating up the meal on the stove.

“Alpha Jeong, you don’t have to-“

“Just call me Jaehyun,” he interrupts gruffly. “Alpha Jeong this, Alpha Kim that- all the rules get so tedious.”

You flush in embarrassment. “We shouldn’t be alone together without an elder present.”

“Another rule,” he sighs, using two fingers to lift your chin up. You meet his gaze head on. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

You swallow, blinking slowly at him. Being this close to an alpha while unmated is against all commands of the elders and betrays every ounce of your omega training, but you nod and say, “Okay.”

“Besides, the elders sleep like they’re dead anyways,” he says with familiarity, which makes you realize that Jaehyun’s grown up around all the elders who have accompanied you to the ceremony because he’s next in line to become head alpha. He steps back from you and resumes cooking at the stove. “So,” he starts, humming. “The Handbook for Dressmaking is a riveting thriller, isn’t it?” He asks you with a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“Oh,” you mumble, wringing your hands nervously. “Yes, I believe it was the top book for the omegas in our district.”

He chuckles. “What’s your actual favorite book? Be honest.” He takes out a cutting board and slowly starts peeling the skin of one of the apples on the counter.

“Um- t-that is my favorite book, Alpha-“ you stop and clear your throat, correcting yourself. “Jaehyun.”

“You omegas,” he repeats with a shake of his head. “Always lying, trying to say what you think is the right thing. I don’t want to hear the dictation from your mother’s handbook. I want to hear your real opinion.”

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. You’ve never told another being about straying away from the traditional omega values. Jaehyun looks at you with an impatient expression, however, and you can’t bring yourself to lie to the next head alpha.

“History retellings about the war are my favorite,” you confess in a gentle voice. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “They provide me with a picture of what we needed to do to succeed as the dominant species.”

It’s not ladylike in the slightest to assimilate oneself to such acts of violence, and you’re certain this would be the final nail in the coffin to ward Jaehyun far from you. Instead, he smiles.

“That’s a new one,” he laughs. “And the children? As many as the moon grants you?”

It’s no secret that after the war, many omegas don’t find it as easy to give birth as they used to. The lingering chemicals and difficult winters led to harsher environments for omegas to successfully carry a pup to term. Nowadays, omegas who strive for more than four children sign their own death sentence. Regardless of the staggering data, the elders teach all omegas that they must give birth to as many pups as the moon will grant them.

“Two,” you whisper, shifting your stare from him and towards the wall. “Just two would satisfy me.”

He hums again, but makes no effort to scold you for your admission. You expect the son of the head alpha to be more strict on the nation’s laws surrounding omega submission, but Jaehyun breaks out of the mold you initially assumed of him.

He slides a warm plate on the counter, filled with the delicious food you resisted eating hours ago.

“Eat well, omega. I thank you for your honesty.”

When he exits the kitchen, your mind reels over the thought that not all alphas are as bad as you believed them to be.

want to read the rest of this fic now? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒 .

# with black leg sanji.

returning earlier from the crew’s usual strolling through the newest island, you’re startled to witness sanji viciously lapping his tongue at a stolen tangerine. pitying his position, you allow him to have a taste of the real thing.

⎰ & afab!reader. smut (mdni!). oral. slightly sub!sanji. he eats you out like he’s starving. no y/n used.

W.C: 3K

when you decided to announce an early retreat to the sunny, much too dizzy to withstand the island’s scalding heat and deciding the most suitable course of action would be to seclude yourself within the cooler walls of the ship, the last thing you had expected was to find sanji in such a compromising position.

minutes previous to that encounter, you were quite frustrated. the shore town was a beating heart of commerce and people, filled with opportunities to find useful acquisitions to oneself. you were looking forward to a shopping-filled afternoon; to observe nami’s wits in action — her bargaining that was nothing but diplomatic theft — and listen to chopper’s ramblings about the books he managed to find. of course, the midday sun and its ruthless warmth had ruined it all, meaning that a day of privacy with sanji was the second best thing.

he had been the one assigned to watch the ship while the rest of the crew explored the town. considering the high temperature and his never-ending will to be of use, you had no doubt that the cook could be found in the kitchen, slicing up fruits to prepare delicious cocktails. hence why you followed the scent of tangerines, growing slightly puzzled. he was one brave man — or a suicidal one, you could not quite decide — for picking up nami’s tangerines when she was not around.

you should have knocked, truly. it was a mistake not to have done so. but you hadn’t cared much for courtesies whatsoever, eager for a refreshing beverage and perhaps the chance to share a pleasant conversation with the cook.

upon entering the kitchen, you were expecting to be met with ice and diced fruit, yes, but not under those circumstances.

half a tangerine was placed on the counter, as well as a glass cup with a singular and melting cube of ice. sanji busied himself with the other half of the fruit, swirling his tongue around the middle, his chin dripping with its juice, which caused you to clench around nothing; your legs forcing together as you observed the scene without a word.

after hearing the opened door, sanji froze in place, moving his head to catch a glimpse of the intruder as though he was experiencing the most terrifying seconds of his life. his shoulders slumped with a temporary sense of relief as he noticed your figure, before his entire frame threatened to burst up in flames out of embarrassment.

you cleared your throat, forcing a rough snicker in an attempt to lighten the shared atmosphere. then, finding yourself a seat, you grabbed the tangerine with one hand, placing the other on your chin. “having fun?”

although not aflame, sanji was as red as that one clown-pirate’s nose, averting eye contact as he placed the tangerine on the sink and searched for a cigarette. it became clearer that he had no courage to meet your eyes, stressing over the consequences of that endeavor. your glance, however, was tethered to the positioning of his fingers above his half of the tangerine, noticing polished and short nails, the well maintained hands, for a cook of his caliber could not indulge in carelessness.

the saliva sent to your dried throat was a fuel to a forest fire, rather than a soothing rain to a desert. your treacherous mind flashed sinful scenarios of those fingers. your juices of pleasure tainting them, warmth enveloping its skin as he curled them close to your sweetest spot before shoving his fingers into his mouth, loyal to his personal code of never wasting any food—

“pearl of my life,” he began at last, sounding a bit hesitant, yet calmer. “i can explain.”

sanji’s voice grew rougher due to the cigarette between his lips. inhaled nicotine that traveled past his vocal chords to settle on his lungs before he expelled them through his nostrils. you found yourself at a loss for words, wondering how one could differentiate the intonation of desire from the consequential coarseness of smoking. was there even a difference? oh, how desperately you wished to find out.

the cook seemed to have misinterpreted your silence, all of the sudden growing anxious, searching for a lighter despite not having finished his first cigarette just yet. luckily, for the both of you, the oven filled in the gaps with a repetitive beep, informing that the dish he had prepared was set to be served.

the scent of one of your most favored desserts danced around the talons of smoke from sanji’s unfinished cigarette. he smashed the tip of it against the ashtray, and hid his hands from your luscious eyes with the kitchen gloves. sanji had to bend to remove the sweet treat from the oven, offering you a clear sight of his butt and the powerful muscles of his thighs, strained against the fabric of his pants. as if hypnotized, you observed, with a certain hunger — for both the dish and the cook — as he then moved towards the counter.

sanji, at last, faced you. “a bargain, mon sirène.”

you raised an eyebrow with an expression of pure confusion, having your next words swallowed by hushed explanations as sanji’s composure crumbled, no longer bearing the weight of your silence. he knelt and encapsulated your hand with his, assuming a pleading tone.

“i thought i’d have a tad more time for myself, you see. at first, i was merely preparing you something sweet, planning to welcome you back with the luxury you deserved, but then my thoughts trailed entirely to you—”

sanji cleared his throat, the gears of his mind turning as he searched for a better explanation. “we’re discovering more of the new world, and oh, my golden star of the open seas, not a thing will ever be able to diminish your brightness and influence over my beating heart—”

“sanji,” you voiced softly.

“but, you see, what if a lady ever so happens to reciprocate my passion and desires? how could i live up to what she deserves? by training, of course—”

“sanji.”

“and oh, well, i meant to prepare tangerine cocktails to ignore those thoughts. but the fruit does resemble a woman’s intimacy—”

“sanji.”

“or so i heard. from zeff. i never had the honor of verifying it myself—”

“sanji!” you interrupted his ramblings, caging his face with your hands, not at all surprised by the high temperature of his skin.

the cook was a passionate man, with a heart that had been dipped in molten gold; filled with nothing but love and the urge to please. but you hadn’t fallen prey to fantasies of his embrace due to bashful flirting, well-pondered gifts and delicious dishes. though those were of aid, sanji, while clueless, managed to become the center of your affection because of his endless kindness, the infinite will to help those in need, those alluring and prestative eyes that never failed to brighten up in your presence.

processing his previous words, and the reasoning behind the decision to train his tongue with a fruit, you felt as though a sharp blade toyed with the fragile skin of your heart. the mere thought of witnessing his care delivered to someone else — a stranger at that — was both vexing and painful. for a second, under the burning and expectation-filled glance of his, you struggled to maintain your thoughts linear. what was needed for him to keep his attention focused on you, and you alone? the answer came with such easiness that you felt a bit ashamed.

sanji squeezed your hand, as if to tether your mind to the instance at hand. with a clear of your throat, you offered him a sympathetic glance.

“i’m not zoro,” you told him, aiming for a reassuring tone. “embarrassing you for the sake of having the last word isn’t something i’m interested in. if you want me to keep this interaction a secret, i will. no bargaining needed.”

he observed you as if the moon was kept in a pendant wrapped around your neck. for a second, your very name escaped from your mind.

“i have always known that you were as kind and merciful as a heaven sent angel. i’ll make sure to return the favor.”

oh! you were surprised that he caught on your desires. sanji was observant, but you were obstinate to a fault and thought that your behavior had been one of composure. well! at least you wouldn’t have to take the first step. he’d be the one to slide down the material of your shorts and panties and guide your hand to his blonde hair and—

sanji got up and moved towards the dessert, scanning the kitchen for the scarce fine cutlery in order to serve the sweet with a noble-worthy decoration. you shoved the revolt that surged due to the distance, mouth agape in both embarrassment and bewilderment. without a second thought or an ounce of patience, you gathered up the courage to act.

“you know, sanji,” you hummed. his sudden straightened posture made you feel a bit wicked, for he behaved as though a deer caught in the woods at the intonation shift of your voice. “if you wanted to practice, you could’ve asked me.”

the cherries he was carefully piling up on the plate crumbled like a house of cards. his nervousness was palpable. sanji turned his head towards your figure, face adorned with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“mockery isn’t a kind act, my seastar,” he said, voice strained. “but i would have forgiven you for committing even the most violent crimes.”

you blinked, straightening your posture. a bit disheartened, for he seemed unable to believe that you were capable of nurturing a genuine desire for him.

“sanji, i mean it. it would be my pleasure,” literally.

sanji shifted his entire body, facing you with certain hesitation. his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as his glance trailed to your lips; then to your breasts; then glued to your crossed legs. his pupils dilated.

with careful steps, as if fearing that a sudden move would tear him from what he believed to be a dream, sanji approached you. the cook breathed in, trembling with nitid nervousness and excitement.

“how do we—should i kneel? i don’t—”

somehow, both his innocence and lack of experience managed to soothe your own nerves. although sanji seemed a wreck, your confidence grew as you tapped a finger on the dining table.

“would you mind if i sat on it?”

he flushed immediately. “what?”

sanji then noticed his error, clearing his throat and gripping a fistful of his hair with an apologetic expression, almost as if expecting a reprimand.

you merely smiled instead. “i can sit on your ‘it’ later, but you should learn the basics first.”

he nodded with fervor, observing with certain desperation as you sat on the edge of the dining table, parting your legs with ease; beckoning him closer.

sanji remained glued in place as though a statue, stunned to a fault. “would you get on your knees for me?”

his reaction was immediate, and the sound of his bones meeting the wooden surface of the ground made you wince for his sake. if the impact caused him pain, sanji didn’t express it. instead, he crawled closer, his breath fanning above your thighs.

“don’t feel forced to do it,” he stuttered at last, offering you the chance to halt.

“this is the part where you remove my shorts,” you instructed instead, and his fingers eagerly worked to unbutton the piece of clothing.

with a raise of your hips, you aided him in the task at hand, watching sanji drool at the sight of your drenched panties. it was endearing, but the lack of contact was maddening.

“you’re allowed to touch me.”

“where?”

“everywhere.”

he placed a careful hand on your thigh. with a groan, your fingers encouraged him to squeeze the tender flesh, and so he did. sanji approached your clothed cunt, his hot breath fanning above the sensible spot. you shivered in anticipation, gripping the blonde locks of his hair with non-thought strength.

before you managed to apologize for the harshness, sanji moaned, latching his mouth to your core. his tongue lapped at it as though a beast, carrying nothing but desperation, with no regards for the piece of cloth that separated you both. you let out a yelp of surprise, breathing heavily at the contact.

“sanji,” you whined, pressing his nose to your folds. “the p-panties.”

he understood it well enough, moving his face afar, nimble fingers tugging on the straps. you raised your hips to help him, and watched as sanji sniffed the material before shoving it inside his back pocket.

sanji trailed his eyes to your cunt. a broken whimper tore through his throat. “where is it?”

“what?”

he flushed, pressing one of his fingers at your slick entrance. you shuddered, and his face inched closer, a temptative kiss pressed to your middle. sanji’s visible eye caught on whatever he seemed to be searching, and his tongue followed-in-suit. he circled the muscle around your clit, slowly, as if testing out the waters.

you tugged on his hair. “faster. use your fingers as well.”

he hummed, sending a wave of vibrations through your core. an involuntary noise escaped your lips once sanji inserted two of his fingers inside. removing your hand from the one he had above your thigh, you gripped his wrist, correcting the angle.

“it’ll hurt less for you,” you explained, and sanji hadn’t even answered, too lost on your pussy to pay your words any mind. he was reacting to your instructions due to mere instinct.

sanji’s lips closed around your bud, sucking on it before he used his tongue to lap at your folds, moving it up and down. you arched your back, controlling the speed of his wrist until sanji caught on it himself, dominating the field.

as he moved his jaw, you felt the roughness of his goatee caressing your warm flesh. “scissor it.”

he obliged, alternating his movements. sanji removed his fingers until the nails, only to insert them again with your desired speed. he curled them inside, exploring your intimacy with his touch while he busied his mouth with your clit and folds.

the hand once placed on his wrist returned to the counter’s edge. you gripped it without much thought, eyes trailed to sanji’s face in between your legs. he interlocked his free fingers with yours, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your palm — aching due to your previous grip —, coating your hand with saliva as well. your juices dripped down his chin and glistened on his nose.

“don’t hurt yourself, bien-aimée,” sanji whispered, tears of glee pooling in his pleasure-wide eyes. “hurt me instead.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the protest melted into a broken moan as sanji spat on your cunt, replacing the fingers inside with his tongue. he whimpered at the taste; his thumb drew circles around your clit, while the longer fingers busied themselves with your folds.

your legs trembled, and your fingers tightened on his hair. sanji’s mewl of pleasure lost itself within your cunt, his thumb pressing harder on your clit as he plunged his tongue deeper, angling his head as if he was trying to devour you.

“l-left,” you told him through a broken moan, seeing stars when his tongue managed to reach a particularly sweet spot.

you felt the built pressure that indicated the nearing of release. sanji parted his face from your cunt for the briefest of moments. softly, as if handling a luxurious and delicate piece of golden cluttery, sanji grabbed a fistful of your thighs with both of his hands, dragging your body closer. your back met the wooden surface of the dining table, and before you managed to ground yourself, sanji had guided your fingers back to his scalp, allowing you to force his face into your pussy.

two fingers stretched you as he bit on your clit, soothing it with his tongue afterwards. you arched your back against the table, toes curling with pleasure.

“so good,” sanji moaned with desperation, his voice mingling with the wet sound of his fingers working on your cunt.

you felt him hump against nothing, nose teasing your folds, and kicked his sides meekly, searching for his dick. sanji caressed your ankle before guiding it to rest on his shoulder.

“ma belle,” he mumbled, kissing your leg, dragging your essence through your skin. “don’t worry about me.”

he fastened his pace, sucking on your inner thigh as his fingers led you to the heavens. you saw stars. your eyes rolled and your mouth parted to give way to a scream, yet your voice failed. somewhere amidst that cloud of pleasure, you caught the sight of his figure towering over your own, one hand grabbing your breast as he pressed his lips against yours. sanji’s tongue invaded your mouth and the taste of your essence, combined with the movement of his fingers, led you to the edge.

your climax came accompanied by a broken moan, diligently muffled by sanji. again, he knelt, removing his fingers lick at your leaking hole, swallowing as much of your cum as he could. you squirmed due to the overstimulation, tugging on his hair to force his face away from your cunt.

“too much,” you whispered, observing the ceiling while coming off from your high.

sanji’s clean fingers caressed your cheek, and he supported your weight once you gathered the will to sit. he pressed loving kisses to your neck, mumbling compliments against the skin. your eyes landed on his softening cock, the wet patch indicating that he came undone.

you tugged at the waistband of his pants, beckoning him closer. your fingers toyed with the zipper, and sanji shivered, his hand trembling where it laid above your hip.

“there’s no need to repay me, mrs. princess,” sanji voice out softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “it was enough a pleasure to get to touch you, and your dessert—”

“i want it,” you interrupted, grinning with newfound confidence. “and besides, it’s your turn to teach me, isn’t it?”

sanji had to resort to a tangerine before tasting the real thing. luckily for the bananas, you managed to dodge the same fate.

— 🐈‍⬛ : this was actually supposed to be about teaching him how to kiss. and then i had ten tangerines for dinner and thought “waiiiiit it does look like a pussy” and boom, 3k words. i ended it with humor because i need to be funny at all times, otherwise i die. it’s a medical condition!

[burnxngslash]

━━   ❝   𝐀𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.    ❞  From now on I no longer require anything edible, the feeling of your lips upon mine would be something FAR superior and delectable. He spoke with an INNOCENT smile on his face having sworn off every single food, treat or beverage created by man. If he needed something to sustain his hunger he could find her LIPS to soothe that pain, if he’s ever thirsty…then same. HER LIPS would be all he needed or craved.

“I’ll make you a better deal, if you can obtain a lyre or a lute then I shall tell you the story of my past. If I were to revisit those old days..then to be wrapped in the sweet embrace of music and even good sake would make it a THRILLING experience.”

"Even I'm not cruel to deny someone a dessert on their birthday." Though the last bit caused a cold smirk on her lips. "Oh but my dear love I thought my kisses were enough food for you, was that a bluff?" Still when he could hardly form a sentence a small pout came back on her lips.

"You promise?" As long he was going to tell her what he went through in the past it was fine, still the heavy cost part did little to sooth her annoyance as she held her stare for a second longer before huffing in somewhat defeat. "I swear if it wasn't because today is your birthday I would've made sure you told me everything, I won't allow you to get sick."

[universalitgirlsblog2]

🧼✨️GLOW UP GUIDE🧼✨️

🧼PHYSICAL GLOW UP

This is inspired from Glow up blueprint video by Dear peachie. Dear peachie will help you to achieve the ultimate physical glow up

.First of all, get to know your features. People who have facial features with accurate facial proportions , stronger symmetry ,brighter colours , defined lines look better in the static image whereas disproportionate facial ratio , poor symmetry , dull complexion , uneven structures can affect how one looks in static image.

Look at the glow up pyramid. Every level is interrelated to each other and is equally important . The elements at each level serves as the foundation which steps towards a higher level. The overall aspects may get affected if insufficient attention are given to fundamental levels.

Celebrities always appear gorgeous and sophiscated because they play attention they have invested a fortune and massive efforts in the detail that ordinary people never thought of.

There is a Chinese sayings which says one can recognize a beauty from 10 meters away. From a 10 meters distance, we cannot see the beauty looks like , her facial features and make up is blurry. However , we can see her body shape , posture , hair , clothing style. If we maintain 2 to 5 meter social distance , the focus point is skin , face shape and overall proportions. Body type , posture , clothing , hair , skin , face shape and overall proportion forms the impression of the body.

( A) Skin

- maintain a balanced diet

- good quality of sleep.

- stay hydrated lol ( common advice but it works )

- avoid smoking and eating too much sugary foods.

- Build a skin care routine which suits you the best.

- Visit a dermatologist regularly.

- Rub ice on face

- Do facial yoga

- Less is more

- The most simple way - just affirm that you have clear skin .

( B ) Body

- Workout !

- Maintain a healthy diet , don't starve yourself please !

- We can enhance our body proportions by wearing clothes which suit our body type.

- Love your body , don't abuse it by starving yourself or criticising it.

( C ) Posture

- You can do exercises to get a good posture.

- Try to maintain a good posture even if you are doing your daily tasks.

- Walk with a good posture , you will appear more graceful and elegant.

(D) Hairstyle

- Hairstyle is a great way to express oneself. You can choose different hairstyles which suit you.

- Healthy and beautiful hair can enhance your appearance so give some time to yourself and do hair care .

- A suitable hairstyle can draw visual attention towards your best features. For example : Long face framing bangs reduce impression of high cheek bones.

( E ) Body shapes

- Get to know your body type and dress up according to your body type.

👛🧁I didn't go into details , dear peachie has made videos for topics like posture, body shapes , hairstyles etc. I will make notes on those too . Those posts will be more detailed and in depth👛🧁

MORE TIPS BY MOI !

- Try mewing, you will get high cheekbones and sharp jawline.

- Get regular trims and hair scalp treatments.

- Yoga is so beneficial for both physical and mental health.

- Accessories to spice up your outfits !

- Develop a good fashion sense , you can take inspiration from celebrities too .

- Apply Vaseline on eye lashes .

- If you want to appear taller and slimmer, then wear high waist jeans and crop tops . ( This tip may vary from one body shape to another )

✨️MENTAL GLOW UP

- DEVELOP SELF - LOVE. I recommend you to check out these posts - how to love yourself , self-love affirmations by me , self- love affirmations by Alanna Foxx, songs for self-love. Also , read these posts - click me and click me !

- Be disciplined. Care for yourself . Cherish yourself. Love yourself no matter what.

- Listen to Guided Meditations and Podcasts

- Adopt the " OK and ? " or " So what? " mentality . They were talking behind your back , OK and ? They don't like you , OK and ? You tried something new and failed , So what ? They left you on seen and ghosted you , So what ?

- Adopt the " You are You , I am me " mentality.

- Listen to the wizard liz , Tam Kaur , Simone or Alessia.

- Watch good content. You are what you consume. You have control over it. Don't watch videos which are full of drama and negativity . Watch productive and educational videos.

- Meditate ! You will become more mindful and self- aware.

- Become selfish! No , don't use people for your own benefit but put yourself first. Posts you should read to understand it better ! - click me , click me !!

- STOP BEING A VICTIM ! YOU ARE THE CREATOR OF YOUR REALITY !!! YOU CONTROL YOUR REALITY , NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND !!!!

- Don't seek validation from others , don't listen to other's opinions . Others opinions are irrelevant.

- Watch documentaries. Read books .

- Cut off toxic people ! This is so important. If someone drains you , puts you down , always nitpicking or complaining about you or other things . Distance yourself. It doesn't matter if you know them in real life or if it's online friendship. It doesn't matter if you knew them for a decade .

- You don't need to share everything with your Close friends.

- Say affirmations out aloud while doing skin care infront of mirror or in your mind.

- Act like the person you want to become.

- Don't chase , attract

- Know you are the main character.

- Don't allow others to use you or treat you like a doormat.

- Be more organized.

- Don't compare yourself with others.

- Don't depend on others for your happiness .

- Journal.

- Try shadow work

- Have hobbies

🍥ACADEMIC GLOW- UP

-Being intelligent is hot. Prioritize your education.

- Find a reason to study. Do you want to top your exams ? Do you want to make your parents proud ? Do you want to be the smart kid ?

- Find a role model . It can be a fictional character or celebrity . Check this post to find some inspiration - click me !

- Your reason to study should be bigger than your distractions.

- Watch fayefilms and studyquill , they always have the best study tips.

-Teach your friends , family or even pet . You will be able to revise the concepts better. If you get stuck while explaining , you would know that the topic is not clear to you yet.

- Use Mnemonics

- You can use the SQ3R method. SURVEY. QUESTION. READ . RECITE . REVIEW.

- Romanticize being smart. Romanticize studying.

- I would recommend you to read these posts , I hope they help you to study well !! - click me , click me , click me , click me , click me , click me, click me , click me

I hope this post helps you too - click me !

[frmisnow]

death by a thousand cuts !

summary. having been cursed to be immortal, you are destined to lose your soulmate horribly every different realm you take ... can you stop it just this time?

warnings / includes . terrible fucking angst, heavy themes of death, hint of an suicide attempt, love

somebody once said that when the rain pours down upon oneself, that's the way to feel the most alive. but what's the use of it when you don't deserve to be such? the rain isn't there for you, it's for the plants that have been starving on the streets, just like the ones he norouished in his garden back in the renaissance.

but that's the thing about humans and gods, they are selfish foolish creatures who lack empathy for anyone but themselves, they shall lie and betray and curse, yet never acknowledge the pain they cause. take take take. never him though, him and his tiny dimples that he showed just for you, perhaps they were the reason his flowers stayed alive for so long. human fucking sunlight, he was.

it used to warm you, like a heavy blanket on a cold winter day, like the comforting tea your mother brews when you were sick as a child. yet it fades once more, is replaced by a freezing like feeling, it's the dark rain dampening your clothes, mostly. and the heavy dog tags around your neck, made of cold metal.

they used to ground you, now it's just a constant reminder of everything that could've been, far far gone.

you were just a nurse back then, nothing more than a nameless face among a sea of wounded men. when the man you loved — a soldier who swore he would come back to you — finally staggered into that field hospital, bleeding and broken, there was nothing in the world that could save him. not your desperate hands, not the morphine you tried to push through his veins, nothing.

you remember the look in his eyes before it was over; familiar, loving, and yet filled with an unspoken apology. he was sorry. he was sorry for dying, repeating the cycle you warned him about. and all you could do was clutch onto him, whisper into his damp skin, prayers to him and to the gods above, to keep jungkook. just this once, just a single time.

they never listened.

you clutch onto the wet railing of the bridge, like you held onto his arm back then, craddled his face, muttered utter nonsense into the thin air, that you knew deep down he wouldn't even hear anymore. crazy what death does to people.

the rain beats against your skin, colder now, harsher. your fingers ache with the effort of holding onto the railing, your eyes close, remembering the last time you saw him.

he kissed you then, soft, as though the world around didn’t matter. and you kissed him back, tasting the salt of his tears on your lips. ‘i’m sorry,’ he whispered, and you responded quietly that he should stop apologizing all the time, that it wasn't his fault. it never was.

damned be jungkook and his endless empathy and love, in every universe.

your hand slides up to your neck, fingers brushing against your cold skin, moving to your chest, the rapid heartbeat inside. it just wasn't fair.

you hear footsteps behind you, soft, barerly audible within the sound of pouring rain, yet you don't turn around. you can't, you can't turn around to face the face that was equally as cursed as your own, that you've hurt countless times just by being you. but most of all, you were scared.

"hey," his voice is low, gentle, but there’s a tremor to it — a hesitation that speaks volumes, maybe jungkook was scared you'd jump of the bridge the way you were clutching onto the railing, that was likely. god, such a jungkook thing to do, try to prevent a complete stranger from committing. you feel incredibly numb, keep looking forward.

“you’re not alone,” he says quietly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to say. like it’s the truth, even though you knew it wasn't, and he was the reason for it.

he steps one step closer, and you can feel a hand on your back, warm just like centuries ago. your own hand comes to cover your eyes, to him it might seem like you don't want him to see that you cried or rather, are currently crying. when in reality, you were to scared to meet his eyes.

"please leave-" you barerly press out, gaze settling on the black water below, anywhere just not behind you.

"i can't do that."

"you don't understand," you screech a bit louder, like raising your voice would somehow prevent him, safe him — from loving you again.

"i understand more then you know."

“you don't even know me, go away.” the yelled words are harsh, yet another futile attempt to push him away; the tenderness in his voice, the warmth of his hand, the ache in your chest that only he seems to cause.

instead of leaving, you feel his other hand on your wrist, gentle, like he’s afraid you’ll shatter under his touch, turning you around softly.

and you've never been more terrified.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

fucking subsistence monitoring. ha ha remember how tallulah had to eat spiders. remember how pomme was starving. subsistence: "the action or fact of maintaining or supporting oneself at a minimum level." i'd bet my hat that third egg from their group is the hope egg. Fucking Subsistence Monitoring. they put them all in the wall and left them to wait to be found to watch how long they could keep themselves going. its one thing to know that it is another thing for them to have a specifically named department for that. lets us eat the bears

[tiamathh]

What Sin do you Need?

Note: Hi!! Repost of an Old PAC hope you enjoy, like/reblog and comment if you do~ take what resonates leave what doesn't and please don't steal my work! Also follow my 18+ readings acc @xoxotiamathh (no minors pls!)

Masterlist <3

Pile 1: Greed

Strive for more, thirst for more, it may seem like greed is bad but a little bit never hurt anyone. You're limiting yourself a lot of the times because you refuse to let yourself want more. What's holding you back? Is it your past? Moving on from the past is important and will help you achieve the great heights you're meant to.

Be greedy for a better life, stand up for yourself and the life you want because if you don't start now than when will you? Greed isn't all about money and material objects, sometimes it's about oneself and what they want, what their ideal life is both socially and emotionally.

Pile 2: Gluttony

This might be a sensitive topic for some and I completely understand that so feel free to pick another pile and take care <3 TW// weight mention, ED, body shaming, starving, anorexia

Pile 2 I'll start off with this, I'm so so sorry if you've been through instances in your life where people have been rather unkind to you regarding your weight and looks, but please know they're all wrong. You don't need to starve yourself; you're doing so well just as you are. Instagram diets and diet suppressants are not what you or your body needs. You need proper nutrition, and healthy meals give you just that. I'm not telling you to be over indulgent of course not but keeping yourself from nutrition is doing more harm than good. For some of you, you've had run-ins with eating disorders, do what's good for your body, mind and soul, delicious food from different cultures will bring a lot of flavour, expand your palette. (Also, for some of you, stop being such picky eaters! Try new things!)

Take care pile 2 and stay safe <3

Pile 3: Sloth

GET REST PLEASE (sorry for screaming). Constantly working and burning the midnight oil and sleep, rest, take a pause. Inactivity isn't always laziness or negative sometimes you need to give yourself space to breathe and sit with your thoughts and feelings.

You're human after all, you need rest and relaxation to recharge. Or maybe you're running from something and distracting yourself by constantly working. You don't need to always work to prove your worth. Don't overwork yourself.

Pile 4: Wrath

Anger can be therapeutic, feel it. Anger can help you set boundaries, and establish your self-worth. A lot of people have probably hurt you before and taken advantage of your kindness, or calm demeanour but don't let them do that. Fearing conflict will not resolve anything, getting angry isn't bad especially when you have been wronged several times by the same people. We've always seen anger be a force for change, so use it in a way where you can change things about your life that you don't like and don't approve of.

Don't let people walk all over you, don't take the route of toxic positivity, your negative feelings are there to help you grow and are just as important for your overall development.

Pile 5: Envy

Have you guys heard of benign envy? I have, an exhausting amount to be honest and what I've learnt is it genuinely helps push you forward in life. It can often be bitter but it can lead you to work harder or be more determined towards achieving your goals. It can positively influence our attitudes towards life and help bring in good changes to your routine that will help you grow. And although it's said envy is rooted in low self- esteem, all that's needed is an abundance mindset to make it work in your favour. If you feel that pang of envy now and then that's not bad, use it as a driving force for to grow more in your own individualistic way because you may have been afraid to in the past. If you envy someone's style (this is coming through strongly) or their way of life, try to manifest and work hard towards making that your reality rather than wallowing in envy and self-pity.

Pile 6: Lust

Here I feel that lust is being talked about in terms of the self, not solely in a sexual manner but also in terms of desire. Pile 6, you need to understand that you are desirable and hot and stunning. If you feel sexual fantasies there's nothing wrong with that, it is a part of your human experience embrace it. There's nothing wrong or dirty about it, it helps you explore yourself more imo. You are sexy don't overindulge and sexualise yourself for others, external validation will not bring you the satisfaction you want, it needs to come from within.

Pile 7: Pride

Guys, pile 7, my loves, pride is not bad. Especially when it comes to the work you do, I feel like this is my artistic pile. Authentic pride is important to the integrity of your work, getting happy, feeling proud, getting satisfaction from an art piece or a written piece after putting in hours, days, weeks of effort should not make you feel guilty. Don't let people tell you that your head is too big or anything like that, it's not. Your pride will help you maintain your standards in everyday life, don't lower your standards for anything or anyone, you're too good for that. I would go as far as to say pride is one of the most important feelings/emotions but be careful to not let it turn into an inflated ego.

All Rights Reserved tiamathh©® DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REWORD, STEAL!

P.S. this is one of my favourite PACs I've ever done 🩷

[notjustjavierpena]

4AM (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: A little peek into Hubby’s mind. I’m working on a longer piece but here’s a taste for the starving.

Summary: Javier reflects on fatherhood while comforting his son.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, Javier loves his family, Javi POV, life with a tiny baby!!

Word count: 1.5k

4AM

It’s like clockwork when Lucas’ cries start echoing through the hallway in the early hours. Four in the morning and no sooner or later. You could set an alarm to wake you up at this point but each time there’s the slightest hope that it’s going to be at five the next time. 

You wake first. A moment later, you hear Javier wake up beside you with a sharp intake of air. He rubs his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “Whose turn is it?”

“It’s four a.m. He’s probably hungry,” you say with a groan and try desperately not to let your eyes close for too long, “Jesus, I’m tired.”

Lucas sounds desperate with how he sobs, hiccupping unhappily at not feeling either of you close yet. You feel bad for not having left your bed already, reaching for the covers to throw them to the side. Javier looks like he is just about to turn onto his other side but he sits up instead, “Let me. You just go back to sleep, baby. I’ll heat a bottle or bring him here if he’s hungry.”

He swings his legs out over the side of the bed, his movements slow with the kind of sleepiness that only comes from not waking up by oneself but rather being woken up by something or someone. 

“Javi,” you try to protest. 

“I mean it. Go back to sleep,” he stands up with a small noise, shuffling out of the room and down the hallway to avoid more protests from you. He works so much and you stay here with his infant son all day; it’s the least he can do. Plus, he wants to get all the quality time with his baby boy that he can, even when he’s miserable from sleep deprivation.

He stops and takes a deep breath right before pushing the door to Lucas’ nursery fully open. There’s a soft glow from the night light by the bed, a lamp shaped like a half-moon that shines a golden yellow over the crib to soothe. 

“Hola, mi amor (hello, my love),” he says when he leans over the side of the crib to look down at his wailing son. Lucas’ hair is dark and tousled much like his own, his eyes are big and brown but right now, his face is also tear-streaked and red from exhaustion to the point where it tugs at Javier’s heartstrings. He shushes gently as he scoops his infant into his hands with practiced ease, holding underneath his arms and supporting his head with his fingers. He bounces gently when he has Lucas cradled against his bare chest. In his head, Javier goes through his usual checklist to make the crying stop but he finds that his son is neither hungry, gassy, or in need of a diaper change. He tuts softly and paces the room to make him settle. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” He asks when the wails subside and turn into soft whimpering instead. The tiny hands on his chest curl up and as the sobbing stops, Lucas seems to find comfort in the familiar scent and warmth of his father. Javier kisses the top of his head, speaking gently while still bouncing carefully, “Don’t worry, I get those too sometimes but your mamá is right there with me when I do just like I am here with you. You’re always safe with us.”

Javier is floored each time he manages to soothe his baby boy. It’s a reminder that he is doing a great job despite all the doubts he had during your pregnancy, the introspection, and the constant fear that your softness hadn’t changed him enough after Colombia to be a good father. 

It seems so long ago since he was living an adrenaline-fuelled and cruel life miles away from the quiet suburban life he now leads in Texas. Sometimes, he even feels like everything that happened in Colombia are experiences that belong to a whole different person. This is even if there are still nights when he wakes up in a cold sweat, his whole body aching, feeling claustrophobic, and his poor old heart racing with memories of the things he's seen and done.

The hope of everything that he has with you had always existed beneath the layer of women and booze but Lucas is the true reason for letting go of his past. He doesn’t think he has ever felt so much fulfillment in anything until he held the tiny little boy against his chest for the first time and a nurse told him that he was a natural. He sobbed when you had gone to sleep, leaving him alone with your shared creation and he just couldn’t take his eyes off him. He doesn’t think he ever thought that his heart was capable of feeling so much unconditional love for anything. He still marvels at how his chest aches every time he looks into his son’s eyes.

Lucas has drifted off to sleep in his arms by now, breaths having slowed down and eyes having fluttered closed. Javier paces around the room for a few more minutes just to make sure, and then he walks back to the bassinet and gently lays the baby down on his back. 

However, as soon as Lucas loses the warmth of his father’s embrace, his eyes shoot open and the crying restarts. He writhes and hiccups and kicks the blanket off. 

Javier sighs softly but there’s a smile on his face as he does it. He picks him up once again and the routine starts over, “So that’s what you needed, huh? No llores. Estoy aquí. No voy a ningún lado (Don’t cry. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere)."

He is so tired as he promises this, eyelids burning from exhaustion when knows he doesn’t have to be up for another three hours and they could be spent on sleeping. It doesn’t reflect what he wants though because sleep is nothing compared to hearing those cries ebb out until they stop altogether. He feels triumphant each time. 

He walks to the corner of the room where an old and slightly weathered rocking chair stands. It used to be in his father’s home, more specifically on the back porch, but he received it as a gift after his pop found out he was going to be a grandfather. 

He slowly lowers himself into it. The gentle motion back and forth has Lucas falling asleep once again. Javier can feel his chest rise and fall in time with his son’s and it’s so soothing that he allows himself to relax. He closes his eyes, becomes aware of their synchronized heartbeats, and then passes out with the little bundle on top of him. 

In your bedroom, you wake up an hour later to pee only to find that Javier still hasn’t returned after getting up. You concentrate on listening for your baby’s cries but there is nothing to be heard. After going to the bathroom, your feet take you down the hall and into the nursery just in case Javier needs you to take over rocking your son for a while. 

You find them both fast asleep and it is a relief that there’s no distress after all. It makes you smile to see them like this, looking so alike despite the age difference between them. Tiptoeing across the floor to gently place a hand on Javier’s shoulder, you wake up your husband with the intention of not disturbing your son. He stirs at your touch and looks up at you with tired but content eyes. 

“Looks like you both fell asleep,” you whisper to him gently. Absent-mindedly, you stroke your hand up and down Lucas’ back. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Javier blinks sleepily, reaching up with one hand to rub his eye, “Seems like he didn’t need anything.” 

“Are you kidding me? That’s not true,” you cut him off with a shake of your head and a soft laugh, “He needed you.”

There’s a pause. Javier almost looks like he might drift off again. You carefully lift Lucas from his arms, “Let’s get you back to bed. Both of you.”

You lay Lucas back in his bassinet, rubbing his belly with the palm of your hand before tucking the blankets around him snugly. He stirs but only briefly and then settles back into a peaceful slumber, his tiny fingers curling around the edge of his covers.

Behind you, Javier has gotten up from his seat. You turn to him and wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both stand there in the soft glow of the nursery. It goes on for a minute or so, none of you saying anything. 

Together, you quietly leave the room. In bed, Javier holds you protectively in his embrace during the last few hours he has with you. He leans to kiss your lips tenderly, “Te quiero tanto, baby (I love you so much, baby).”

“Y yo a ti (I love you too),” you reply and earn him squeezing you even tighter, “Para siempre (forever).”

Being a first-time parent is hard, you know this, but it’s not as hard when four a.m. I love yous are involved.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[artyandink]

tête-à-tête | cj braxton

Summary: Not everyone at ESU got the gift of maturity. So when you hear a couple of comments about your appearance and weight in a conversation between some girls, you can’t help but think that you need to make yourself worthy of CJ. However, your knight in shining armour is always ready to rescue you from that deep end.

TW: Immature and jealous girls, body sensitivity, body image issues, starving oneself, implied smut, making out, smut (my first smut fic, don’t kill me please)

SMUT TW: Kissing (duh), touching, fingering, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it), body worship (I think), oral (f. receiving), thigh riding, riding, CJ is one whipped man

A/N - This is part two to ‘i like me better’ (it could work as a stand-alone but I strongly advise you read the first) and the second one shot of the Day Old Frosties Club (it’s the universe for these two and you’ll know why soon)

A/N 2 - Second entry for the Jensen-A-Thon! And wth, this is the LONGEST THING I’VE WRITTEN??! Lmk if you want a word count!

Song inspo: Lover - Taylor Swift and Golden Hour - JVKE

You groaned, the back of your hand reaching up to rub the sleepiness out of your eyes from the wear and warmth that came from last night.

Mm, last night.

CJ’s lips trailing down your body, open mouthed, sweet yet hot on your needy skin. Eliciting whines from your mouth with each skilled brush of his fingers. His groans in your ear and his breathless, wanting voice telling you how good you were, how beautiful you looked, how perfect you were for him. The way he kissed your nose and gazed at you with those gorgeous green eyes as if you were God’s gift to the Earth in that dimly lit room complete with a view of the New York skyline. The setting sun casting a red spotlight over the both of you to the soundtrack of your soft sighs, his low groans and the headboard banging against the wall at a steady rhythm.

Aka - your personal heaven.

You didn’t know why it took you so long to figure out that the man who was joined to you literally since birth was the love of your life.

You weren’t kidding. Your moms managed to time their pregnancies at the same time, and by some miracle went into labour on the same day and had birth in the same hospital an hour apart.

CJ was older. Regrettably, but it was understandable. He was the more mature of you both.

Anyway, back to the narrative.

You saw him sleeping beside you, the effortlessly handsome man who was in his boxers from your cleaning up last night (practice the horizontal tango correctly, everyone- during, before and after), arm around your waist and holding you snuggly to his side, his face scrunched up and pouty, plump lips parted. Anyone uneducated in the world of CJ Braxton wouldn’t know what was really going on.

You read the textbook back to front. He was awake, and you’d prove it.

You leaned forward, kissing those relaxed lips, and the second you let your fingers card through his floppy hair and find a home there, you felt him hum against your mouth, hand on your waist bringing you closer so he could slide his hand over your panties to grip your knee gently and hook your leg over his hip. Bad breath be damned, you could still taste yourself on his tongue from the previous night and it sent shivers down your spine to know that you were the one that he was with almost every night (often he felt like being on the bottom, which you weren’t opposed to in the slightest), mouthing at your neck, chest, stomach and everywhere else he could get to.

You still couldn’t get used to the idea.

The softly-lit bedroom (which you both now slept in together) was warmed with the sound of your lips moving lazily together, your hands rustling the sheets and the duvet up as you pulled each other impossibly closer and sweet sighs like honey, gripping of thighs and the fluttering of eyelashes. All mixed into a delicious routine cocktail.

You hummed against CJ’s lips, attempting to pull away, but he chased your lips with a small ‘no’ and fought back to quash any rebellion. It was clear how eager he was to reenact the previous night, but you managed to breathe air through your mouth again, your eyes scanning his pouty, grumpy face with an exhilarated, knowing grin. “How did I know, hm?”

“In my defence,” He raised a finger with the most endearing smile, “you look beautiful when you’re sleeping.”

“You think I look beautiful all the time.” You giggled as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, pulling your shirt over your head and proceeding to try and tame the rat’s nest that was an excuse for hair with only your fingers. A battle hard lost.

CJ, however, rubbed his eye with the back of his wrist, scanning you over from head to toe. Bed head, flushed cheeks from the morning, lips slightly swollen from the wake up call, only wearing a grey sweatshirt and cotton panties. Yep. Stunning. “Yeah. That I do.”

You nodded, humming as you leaned forward, letting your lips linger on his in a chaste kiss which, when you pulled away, had his eyes still closed as he tried to register how in the hell did he score his best friend. Not that you were an object, he just…

… adored you.

He reached out, entwining his pinky finger with yours and bringing them up to his lips, kissing them before he also swung his legs and got out of bed, standing in the glory of the light streaming through of the window in purely his boxers. You took a look at him and smirked, cocking an eyebrow at the heavenly view you got to have in the moment. Your view. The thought was unbelievable, wasn’t it? “Ooh, lá lá.”

“Shut up.” He snorted, and smiled affectionately when he saw you close the blinds to that very window, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Good idea.”

“I know.” You giggled, kissing his cheek as you yanked your sweatpants on. The very same ones he had first kissed you in, making out like you had a million times before in one of Uncle Bill’s spare bedrooms.

Damn, that memory was still paradise.

“So, sweet girl, what are you thinking for breakfast?” CJ hummed, drawing you closer and wrapping his arms around you, pressing kisses to your hairline, tracing it while smoothing back the soft strands of your hair. He’d been doing things like these a lot more often now that you two were dating, probably his way of solidifying that you two aren’t just childhood best friends who kiss and hug each other far too much for it to be platonic, but also because having you in his arms and under his lips (every meaning intended) just felt right.

You pouted in mock thought, drawing his eyes momentarily to your lips. “Day old Frosties?” The grin you gave had him chuckling as well as he moved to the mirror so he could run a thin-toothed comb through his hair.

“Day old Frosties.” He repeated slowly, shaking his head slightly as he added a quip, glancing at your form retreating to the bathroom. “Classy.”

The smartass remark had you raising an eyebrow as you put toothpaste on your wet toothbrush and started diligently scrubbing at your teeth. Well, not hard scrubbing. Just the right amount. “I will stand by day old Frosties until the day that I die.”

“I still don’t get what’s so good about them, that’s all I’m saying.”

“They’re like, the perfect cereal if you have no milk.” Your words were jumbled and muffled by the hanging toothbrush in your mouth, but CJ picked up every word. “Like, they’re not too stale, not too crispy fresh cause you picked them up, like, that day. Just one day old. Not two, not three, one.” You bent over to quickly spit the contents of your mouth in the sink. “Perfection.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” CJ rolled his eyes, regretting his choice already, but to see the squeal and giggle of excitement paired with your smile made it worth every bit of damage to his taste buds. “Let me take a hot one, then I’ll be out with you, ok?”

You whipped off your shirt, a cheeky grin plastered on your flushed cheeks and framed by your dimples. You quickly grabbed your towel, stepping back towards the shower. “Not alone, you’re not.”

CJ shrugged, looking after you with a dazed smile and a rising blush, licking his lips to savour your morning taste. “Yeah, I can get behind that.”

After a long shower, which consisted of a soap suds war, giggles, little kisses and your inability to not cuddle all the damn time, both you and CJ made it out and into the kitchen, padding in with your matching fuzzy socks, you clad in one of CJ’s hoodies, and he was wearing a different one as he’d sacrificed his favourite for you. You went to take out the bowls, and CJ your favourite stash of day old cereal that he slid across the island.

He loved this island. He made out with you on it, very soon after you two got together. He even, well, got to his knees. If you know, you know.

“Alright, let’s see the hype on day old Frosties.” You shot him a look due to his sarcastic drawl, but as you poured the bowl of Frosties and passed him it along with the spoon, the first bite actually had his taste buds happy. Not too stale, not too crispy fresh…

Holy moly, you were right.

“Alright, I take everything back.” He shovelled another spoonful into his mouth, practically moaning at the taste as he turned to you with an incredulously impressed expression. “I take it all back- how the hell is this good?”

“See?” You pumped your eyebrows, starting to scoff down your own and eventually making your cheeks puff out like a chipmunk as you chewed. “Day old Frosties. Number one cereal.”

“Damn. Damn.” CJ chuckled, shaking his head. “I might have to join the Day Old Frosties Club. You’re incredible, you know that?”

“You flatter me.” You grinned, words muffled by the onslaught of cereal in your mouth.

CJ leaned over, pressing a kiss to your chin. “Well, I take pride in the ability to make my girlfriend blush.”

“Course you do.” You snorted, setting the coffee machine to make and studying him for a moment with a small smile on your face. Green eyes, floppy hair, pink lips relaxed in a sweet smile that you couldn’t believe was reserved for you.

Six feet, one inch of pure, maddening perfection.

Of course, it could just be you being biased since you’d been best friends with him since you were born and dating for a few months now. It was always so easy, since he knew you to the last inch (literally) and you knew him to the last inch (also very literally). But you couldn’t help but feel that now, when Jen was no longer a problem and neither was his sobriety, smooth sailing was perfect for the both of you.

“What?” He bore a slightly confused an expectant smile, until you leaned forward and kissed him softly. He puckered up, his eyebrows raising and his expression staying like that a few moments after you pulled away, that is until his eyelashes fluttered and his emerald eyes glinted in the light again, shining with his love for you. “And what was that for?”

“Just cause.” You shrugged, tilting your head with that adoring look that never failed to make his whole body do the tingly thing that he so very much loved to feel.

“Just cause needs to happen more.” He muttered, pinching your chin lovingly. “Now, we’ve gotta finish this cereal fast before we’re late for our morning’s lecture, as much as I’m not a big fan of Professor Kelsey and his endless tangents of his dog’s habits. Which has nothing to do with Sigmund Freud’s discovery of psychoanalysis.”

You pouted in frustration, the action cute to CJ as you moped over the thought of hearing more about your lecturer, James Kelsey, and his adventures with his cocker spaniel and how it liked to chew food then throw it up. “Do we have to?”

“I’m no happier about it than you are, but…” He gestured to you with a grin, “humour me, here. S’not like we have to go climb the Empire State Building, and I know that, and I quote-”

“- heights is where I draw a line that is goddamn higher than the Burj Khalifa.” You two said in unison, your hand reaching out to swat CJ’s shoulder as he chuckled, proud of his exact quotation.

“See?” He took the hand that hit him and brushed his lips over every knuckle, tilting his head and letting his thumb rub circles over the back of it. “I know you. And I know you hate Professor Kelsey, so we can just copy what he wrote down on the board, while listening to Radiohead on our earphones. That’s my starting bid.”

“I bid copy what he wrote down on the board, listen to Radiohead on our earphones, and go for a cheese melt and tomato toastie after.” You two had a favourite sandwich place which had the best cheese pulls you’d ever seen. And the best tasting sandwiches, of course. It totally was wasn’t about the way the strings of traumatised milk cling to each side of the bread in cheddary heaven. Totally not.

“Can I throw a trip to Haute Couture Shakes in as well?” CJ grinned, biting his bottom lip as he did so. You were incredibly tempted, since Haute Couture Shakes was a milkshake and smoothie shop that had quickly become a tradition for you and CJ to go to whenever you fancied. You both visited so often that the people working the shifts knew you two by first name terms, lighting up whenever they saw your smiling faces. “I’ve heard they have a Sour Patch Kid themed milkshake that’s so sour, if you finish it all, they give you five free milkshake coupons, throw in their teddy bear mascot plushie.”

“I’m listening.”

“Thought we could both tackle that, save our wallets some pain.” He shrugged, casually putting across a very tempting idea. “Nothing big.”

“You have a deal.” You grinned, and then he mirrored it, leaning forward so his nose bumped against yours, taking a second before it slotted perfectly, like it was meant to.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, his hair tickling your forehead as his thumb and index finger took your chin. “People say that… deals are sealed with a kiss.”

You giggled. “Nobody says that, Cee.”

That made him smirk slightly in embarrassment. “Well, they will. Maybe in two or three years time, in some random TV show on some streaming service. For now, c’mere.” He guided your lips to his, letting the taste of your toothpaste, your cherry chapstick and the Frosties flood his tongue for far too short a time before he pulled back with a small smile. “Going once, going twice, gone.”

You’d told CJ to go in the lecture without you because you needed to go to the bathroom, and when you were in a stall, about to come out, you heard the smacking of lips from putting on gloss and scoffs from who you recognised as Sarah, Louise and Maya from your Psych class. They were the type to be gorgeous but you’d have no idea how they got where they did.

“I don’t know what CJ sees in her.” You heard Sarah sniff as there was the familiar click of a powder foundation tub opening. “He’s CJ, and she’s just… ugh.” There was a hum of agreement from the other girls, and you just knew they were rolling their eyes.

“You’re way better for him, Sarah, girl.” Louise cooed, and you swallowed, doubts threatening to enter, but you valiantly fought them off. You were CJ’s best friend since childhood and now girlfriend, there’s no way- “I swear, she looks like she’s scoffing down fifty pies and pizzas each a day.”

You… what?

Your eyes drifted down to your body, to where you were donning CJ’s hoodie, which was oversized on you. Sure, it could make it seem that you’ve got more meat on your bones than average, but you loved dressing up in his clothes, because you got to have his scent on you all the time. And he loved seeing you in them, because it reminded him that he’d managed to grow a pair and finally let you know how he felt. Just his luck that you felt the same way.

“And the way she clings to his arm like he’s God’s gift to women?” Maya added with a small, undignified snort. “I mean, he is, but you don’t have to sew yourself to him.”

Sarah cackled in agreement. “Seems so desperate, doesn’t she?”

“It’s actually pathetic.”

“I bet he’d leave her the moment he sees that you’re worth a million times more.” Maya purred in the middle of her mascara application. “Like, come on, it has to be charity. He’s cute and handsome, and she’s practically a hermit.”

“Maya!” Sarah chastised, and for a moment you felt hopeful. As if you weren’t being ripped apart even though you weren’t even meant to be there. “You’ve got it wrong. I don’t think she’s worth anything.”

Yeah, who were you kidding?

They strutted out soon after, and you got the go sign to step out, wash your shaky hands and head inside the lecture. CJ’s face brightened when he looked at you, the sparkle in those mossy eyes exorcising all thoughts of you not being good enough for him. It was like he had a special superpower.

“I saved you a seat.” He grinned. There was no one in the row.

“Not that hard to do, Cee.” You giggled, but he pouted cutely, crossing his arms like a grumpy toddler.

“C’mon, do you have to be a downer on the party?” He snickered. “Just give me this one, appreciate the sentiment and then we can apply cold, hard common sense.”

“I appreciate the sentiment.” You echoed with a kiss to his hair, which made his cheeks flush.

“Ok, good. Now c’mere.”

You sat down next to him at the back of the lecture theatre, where he offered you the other earphone, and you were hit with the glory of Radiohead coming from the small speaker inside once you’d slotted it in your ear. Your book was already opened, courtesy of the gentleman, the margins scrawled with multiple doodles of yours and blank spaces blessed with Hangman, one page sporting an outline of two hands, one smaller than the other when you and CJ had compared hand sizes. His was bigger. Obviously.

You would’ve still been thinking somewhat of the comments until he pressed a kiss to your hair, drew you in by the waist and plopped your hand in his hair while nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. You being you, there wasn’t any chance of resisting, so you got to hair playing. He yawned, eyelashes fluttering, and it took you back. To the days where, well, you’d pine for your childhood best friend. When all you wanted was for him to get better, and he did. You didn’t know you’d ever find yourself in this position, where you didn’t know really how to feel about what you’d overheard.

You pushed it away for now, unaware of Sarah’s glowering from across the room. Right now, your sweet boy’s head was on your shoulder, and that’s all you’d feel. And you’d savour it.

The class was filled with little giggles, shared joked and kisses and whatever little ways you and CJ could mess with each other while you took notes, to the soundtrack of ‘You and Whose Army?’, ‘Paranoid Android’ and many more. When you got out, CJ stayed behind to ask Professor Kelsey some questions while you waited outside the lecture theatre, where you saw Sarah, Louise and Maya, all giving you a side eye that reeked of rotten eggs, chewing on their gum and making you feel like you were in a frickin’ off brand Disney Channel TV show where you stole the ‘popular girl’s man’ when he wasn’t even her boyfriend in the first place.

Even so, when CJ came out with a happy smile, you stood up on your tiptoes, cupped his cheek and kissed him, going flat-footed when he leaned down to make it more comfortable for you- damn him for being a giraffe, one hand entwining with yours and the other holding your waist over his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in his fist. He’d be happy to continue that little session until the end of time, but you two had an itinerary of some sorts. He pulled back, taking your hand on his cheek and kissing the inside of your wrist with a hum. “You’re gonna get it later, you know that?”

“I do.” You giggled cheekily, forgetting that those idiots were even watching, your eyelashes fluttering as CJ pecked your nose and offered his arm.

“Shall we, pretty girl?” You happily linked your arm with his, your hands meeting and instantly entwining fingers.

“We shall, sweet boy.” Your lips landed on his cheek, just the lightest of kisses, but it made him flush like it was your first and grin goofily, shivering a little at the way his heart was palpitating and his stomach doing an Olympic gold gymnastics routine. Just like it happened, but more intense, when he was twelve and discovering what love was when you were nerding over Jane Austen.

Yeah, you could still do that. Every damn time he looked at your gorgeous face, and he’ll be damned if he stopped feeling it.

You and CJ strolled into Haute Couture Shakes, the red-headed, red-lipped lady at the counter wearing a snowy white and teal apron breaking out into a grin as she happily let the other workers know you two had arrived. “Hey, you two! Been waiting for the moment you show up.” The place was known for having the most unique milkshake and smoothie flavours ever, that you couldn’t find in any other shake shop in New York. Hence the Sour Patch Kids milkshake.

Some examples were the Bubble Frutti, where they’d combined bubblegum with Tutti Frutti; the Cookies and Dirty Cream (you and CJ drank that on wild nights cause it had vodka in it, and it was safe since CJ didn’t get buzzed and neither did you) and Mount Olympus, which had Skittles (apparently the ambrosia of our earth) as a main ingredient and almost every other candy mixed in small quantities and therefore making it the most heavenly, cavity-inducing drink in New York City.

“Hey, Bella.” You giggled as you reached the counter with CJ, his hand slapping yours down, which was carrying your wallet. He took out his, giving you a look which said ‘let me’. “Uh, we’ll try Death by Sour Patch today.”

“You’re gunning for those free shakes too, huh?” She joked, putting it on the bill. “And I’ll put in those chocolate-cinnamon sprinkled donuts you two like, on the house.”

“We wouldn’t want you to jeopardise your job for us, Bels, we can go without some doughnuts.” CJ scoffed lightly, then leaned in, speaking in a low voice. “But if you can add in a bag of flying saucers, we have a deal.”

The comment made Bella laugh, shaking my head as she got that up too. “You’re lucky I’m a sucker for your girlfriend. Lookin’ gorgeous, by the way, hon.” She shot you a quick wink and a wiggle of her manicured and teal-painted fingers, and your heart soared at the compliment. You were just dressed in CJ’s hoodie, some knee-highs and sneakers, but Bella had a way of always lifting your spirits. She was always a true girl’s girl.

“Don’t go stealing her from me, I did hard work to get this far.” He joked back as he put his card in the reader, quickly typing in his pin. He kissed your head briefly, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Aw, look at you!” Bella giggled, not a hint of malice in her tone as she gestured between the two of you. “I have a true love-dar, and if I’d seen you two lovelies and you hadn’t been together? I’d have done everything in my damn power to make sure that it would happen.” When CJ looked away to scan the surroundings - the teal and white wallpaper with teal fairy lights, matching tables and posters and all sorts of activities to do around the place - Bella mouthed ‘we need to talk’ very obviously at you.

When Bella needed to talk? She needed to talk.

So you turned to CJ, trying not to let the confusion seep into your tone as you spoke. “Could you find a table, Cee? I’ll wait for the shake.”

“Sure, baby.” He pecked your lips before going to find a seat, leaving you and Bella alone. Her expression changed the moment CJ was out of eyeshot and earshot, which had you worried.

She leaned closer, flicking her bouncy red hair out of her eyes as she took a rather irritated breath in. “Ok, so I had to serve these three skanks, like, five minutes before you came in, and I really didn’t want to because they were absolutely tarnishing your beautiful name, girl, and I had half a mind to smack some sense in her. Even if it gets me a chipped nail.”

Then she saw the dropping condition of your mood, and it instantly clocked in her head, but she needed to know for herself. “Honey,” She covered your hand with her own, sporting furrowed, meticulously threaded and arched eyebrows, “has this happened before?”

Bella was smart, incredibly smart (once you got past the intense self-care) and could tell a white lie when she saw it, so you couldn’t lie. After summing up the courage, you got something out in a meek voice. “Once.”

“One time too many.” She glanced to where Sarah, Louise and Maya were sitting with venom in her eyes. “They were saying all kinds of things that aren’t true in the slightest. I don’t know what you heard, but I have heard enough. Baby girl, you are that boy’s everything. I see it in his eyes; he can’t even begin to fathom that you two are in a relationship, he’s that whipped. And you? You’ve got a heart of gold. Never let it stain for those vultures.” She looked over at them, her eyes doing a 180 the moment they locked on the three paired with a gag (that you weren’t sure was real or fake). “See? Nausea. I hate nausea. You are a damn smart Psych student. They’re just boring history.” She pinched your chin with an affectionate smile before passing you the ready shake. “Don’t waste your time on ‘em.”

Bella never failed to boost you up on a pedestal, a wide grin on your face as you took the cold concoction, complete with two straws. “Alright. I’ll try.”

“You will.” She corrected, but she winked anyway. “Attagirl. Now, go get your man.”

You obliged, finding your table with CJ and putting down the drink, which looked innocent enough with clumps of vanilla ice cream and splotches of pink, green, orange and blue around the clear glass.

“Ready?” CJ asked as he scooted his chair closer, poising those pink lips by the straw, holding it in place.

You grinned, getting in the same position. “Born ready.” You both took a sip, and were instantly hit with… vanilla sweetness?

“Not sour at all.” CJ shrugged, gazing at the drink in confusion as he smacked his lips, his cheeks flushed from the coldness of it. You did the same with yours, getting all the vanilla off your teeth and lips with your tongue as you tried to find the sourness of it all. But… nothing.

“Yeah, I thought it’d be-” You almost gagged and doubled over, your eye closing on instinct.

SOUR.

Oh, that’s-that’s stinging your taste buds. It tastes good, but it’s stinging. CJ was having the same reaction, fanning his mouth as if it would do anything, his left eye blinking over and over again. “Sour.” He gasped, keeping his mouth open. Not even air was on your side. “God, that’s strong stuff. Whoo, damn. Oh, I’m gonna die. Right here, at this table.”

“I’m gonna go with you.” You bent so your forehead was touching the cool surface of the table, panting until you braved the first wave. You exchanged a look with CJ, licking your lips, until you both dove for another long sip.

YOLO, right?

After you two got home, you’d been changing while CJ was stashing the coupons, your stretch marks catching your eye in the mirror. You were tempted to turn it around, but CJ would notice immediately. But for now, you were fixated on the image of you in a simple cotton bra, stretch marks like tiger stripes on your skin as your fingers teased at them.

Trying to see if they’d go away.

“Alley-cat, I’ve set the table.” His low voice rumbled through the door, and you instantly opened it, feeling warm at the nickname. He hadn’t called you that in a good year, not since Jen, and it arose in tenth grade, when you beat up a boy for hurting CJ, landed the douche in the sick bay covered in scratches and gotten suspended with a Cheshire grin on your face.

‘A claw-wielding badass’, he’d told you after laughing until your voices were hoarse when he got home. Your mom had taken the mickey out of you, but you were still smiling. Just cause you helped him.

Pulled back to the present, CJ’s eyes scanned your body as he stopped in his tracks with a soft smirk. You in your bra and sweatpants? Was he in heaven? “Ooh, lá lá.”

You took a quick look at yourself then rolled your eyes, his words doing a bit to thaw the icy chill that set over you by examining the stretch marks and pinching to see what extra fat was where. “Shuddup.” Your arms went to fold over your stomach consciously, but CJ clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he approached you with slow, reverent steps.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Don’t hide all that gorgeousness from me.” His hands found yours, peeling your arms off your stomach to take a look. “Mm, we… might have to skip dinner. And I love pizza, so consider yourself lucky.” He reached you, drawing you into his form by your hips as he began pressing hot kisses to the line of your neck, his finger reaching up to trace the pretty arch of your back. “Yeah, we have to.”

Within seconds, you were on flat on the bed, his skilled mouth on yours with an almost bruising force.

Kissing away the thought that skipping a meal was an eerily good idea.

CJ padded into the kitchen for a midnight snack in his fluffy red and blue checkered pyjama pants, and instantly went for the pizza box. When he opened it, he found it exactly how he left it, which was strange. Four slices, gobbled up quick and easy. He’d told you to eat some as well, since doing the dirty can tax you and they’d literally gone straight to dessert (where each other were concerned) so you needed some food in your system.

Maybe you were just hungry. Maybe… he was reading into things.

That is until the next day, and the day after that, he found you leaving food, disguising it as leftovers. You thought CJ didn’t notice.

He did.

He kept track of this kind of stuff, and it was the most outlandish thing you’d done since you both were little kids. Never once had you starved yourself.

Why would you need to? You were perfect. No need for improvement. Yet he’d seen you with sunken cheeks, staring at food like it was behind a glass pane at a zoo. He’d seen you permanently wearing the loosest clothes in your wardrobe. Casting scared glances at those three makeup-obsessed, snarky girls in their Psych lectures. What were their names? Maya, Louise and Sarah-

Sarah.

Of course. She’d approached CJ just before he started dating you, all hair-twirling, lip biting, blonde galore, laughing in an obviously fake, high-pitched noise at everything he said before finally asking him out. He politely declined, not wanting to bruise her ego and said that he was interested in someone else. She figured who that was when he started dating you. Before that she thought he was gay.

He didn’t know what it was with blondes and thinking he was gay.

He knew you were a damn sight better than Sarah. Even if she was your identical twin, he’d take you. She was into expensive manicures, trips to the salon every other night and trying to make ‘fetch’ happen like Gretchen Wieners.

Though he clocked her as more of a Regina. Trying to be sexy and evil at the same time, but at least Regina did it right (he’d agreed with you on that opinion).

He wasn’t into girls who did obnoxious self care and skimpy clothes. He was into the little things. Like how you’d be playing with his hands every movie night, comparing hand sizes and tracing his fingers with the tips of yours. How you’d wear his hoodies every chance you’d got and he’d let you, just to see you swallowed up in it and to know that you felt special. How you knew him like you knew Harry Potter (word for word) and you were so sweet to him he’d get a cavity.

Most of all your habit of hooking your pinky on his. He took it as a promise that he’d always be yours.

But now he was scared you were starving yourself. Time to put his deerstalker cap on.

Metaphorically.

The one stop he needed to find out if Sarah and her cronies were the root of your problems was none other than their vibrant, fashion forward, milkshake-server Bella. She also went to ESU, and even though you’d take her as a shallow person from the outside, she was sweet, outgoing, protective… and hella smart. She was taking a fashion design course, and that was not for the faint hearted.

“If it isn’t my second favourite Braxton.” She cooed as he approached the counter, looking wonderfully out of place with her dangly hoop earrings.

“I’m the only Braxton you know.” He chuckled, but then she clicked her tongue.

“Bill. He’s a charmer. Now, let’s get down to business.” She fixed the shades atop her red hair. “You’re here about our girl, right?”

“I’m worried, Bels.” CJ swallowed thickly. “I keep on finding leftovers. It’s not normal. And she’s less inclined to show me her body, which, I note, is absolutely gorgeous. I reckon I know who it is.”

“The three Satanic bimbos who were in here talking smack about the love of your life?” Bella raised her eyebrow, nodding. “Yep. I know. One of which who looks like an off-brand, fake Prada Regina George.”

“That’s the one.”

“Rachel McAdams did it miles better.” She snorted, shaking her head disapprovingly. “She’s tarnishing my wife’s name.”

“Well, the off brand version of your wife is ruining my sweet girl.” He sighed, biting his lip. He was lost, confused, and Bella always seemed to lend a helping hand. She could offer a hanky, a sympathetic word or a devastating roast when needed and directed correctly, a complimentary milkshake or, most importantly in this situation, advice. “Help me, Bella. You’re fluent in any girl language. This? I’ve never touched this type of thing with her. She’s always been so confident, and perfect, and sweet. So help me, Bels, or I’ll become trigger-happy.”

“Well, just use what the good lord gave you.” Bella winked, and when CJ flushed in embarrassment, about to stammer out a sheepish reply, she tapped his chest with a giggle. “Your heart of gold, silly. What did you think I was talking about? Now go, return your future wife to her former glory.”

CJ’s face contorted in bewilderment, though the corner of his lip twitched. Bella noticed. “Future- I’m not even gonna argue. Thanks, Bella.”

“Better repay me somehow, young man!” She called as he walked out.

“We’re the same age!”

CJ came home with a reeling mind, and he stopped when he saw you staring into the snack cupboard with a puppy-dog expression… until he came in. Then he raised his eyebrows, gesturing to the cupboard. Just one last hope that you weren’t too badly hurt by those girls. “Don’t stop on my account. I got those for you, baby.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You shook your head, and it confirmed his suspicions. “Just… looking.” His heart broke, and he instantly led you inside your bedroom, his hands in yours and coaxing you to sit, which you did. Not fighting him, knowing the game was up.

He took a deep breath, trying not to let anger well up in him because of what Sarah had said. Out of pure jealousy, all because she couldn’t have him. He felt like the root cause, and he had to fix it. “C’mere, pretty girl.” He drew you onto his lap, resting his forehead on yours, holding you tightly to him. Thumbs rubbing circles into your hip bone, which he felt was starting to poke out. No, no, no, no, no. Not his darling. “Can you tell me why? Please?”

Your bottom lip quivered, but you swallowed the shivers down and got out a choked sentence in a meek voice. You felt like a stranded cat in need of comfort. “Just wanted to be good for you.”

“Shh, no, baby.” He murmured, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. “You’re perfect for me, y’hear? You.” A small peck. “Are.” Another. “Incredible.” One lingering press of his lips to yours. “You’re not eating. I can’t have that. It’s hurting you, and that’s unacceptable to me, ok? I love everything on you just the way it is.” He felt you open your mouth to argue, but he silenced you with a finger on your lips. “We can talk about this when you feel comfortable. However long it takes. But can I just… show you how much I adore you, sweet girl? Let me show you, please.”

His thumb tracing your cheekbone had you leaning into his hand and nodding, so he let out the breath he was painfully somehow holding in the wait for you to agree, mentally preparing himself. He didn’t want this to be anything less than about you. His lips met yours, soft, slow and sensual, the way he was holding you almost reverent. You’d been partaking in gentle love with CJ since you could remember, but this time was different. It had an intensity to it you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t rough, but was fiery. It burned you and soothed you at the same time. A delicious burn but an addicting cool that only left you whining into his mouth.

With that victory notched on his belt, he swiped his tongue on your lower lip, tasting your strawberry chapstick before veering off course to firmly press kisses to your jaw, making his way to a spot behind your ear that had your jaw going slack, his hair tickling it as he sucked gently, massaging your scalp with his fingers. Those lips you loved so much nipped over the curve of your neck, his hand coaxing - not forcing - your head to give him more access until you both found that he no longer needed to give you guidance, you tilting your head on your own to encourage him.

“That’s it, sweet girl.” He murmured, gently rubbing his hand over your chest, down to your stomach and feeling the softness over your hoodie. Then he caressed your thighs, breathing in the mixed scent of you and him which had his head spinning and lips part in a silent gasp, hooked without the need of the line and sinker every time. Effortlessly. That’s how you drew him in.

So. Damn. Effortlessly.

“Cee…” Was all you could get out as his fingers played with the hem of the hoodie, your thighs rubbing together on his lap, his other hand smoothing over those goddamned knee highs, gripping the underside of your knee with a hum.

You couldn’t think. Not even if you wanted to. Especially not with CJ’s hands tracing you like a Greek sculptor would his statue, fingers running over every crevice, imperfection and making them perfect. Except this time, he wasn’t changing a thing about your body, just your view of it. Making it his view.

“As much as I love you wearing my clothes, pretty girl, I think we both want them off.” His lips ghosted over your jugular, making you shiver and nod frantically, at a loss for words because of CJ frickin’ Braxton. Your affirmation prompted him to slide both firm hands under the hoodie, feeling up your body in one smooth motion. The fabric bunched on his forearms, but it served as an effective removal as you lifted your arms, the softness leaving your body - an unfamiliar feeling as it was like a second skin - but replaced with the warm and electrifying feeling of his lips burning a trail from your collarbone to between your chest, quickly undoing the clasp of your cotton bra. Nothing special, just plain.

“So gorgeous.” He murmured in spite of that, nipping at the sensitive skin before rolling one nipple between his fingers, mouth closing around the other. Sucking, laving it with attention, distracting you from noting the exact moment you were manoeuvred, his back against the headboard and you straddling his thigh as needy moans, whines, whimpers - the whole trifecta - spilled from your mouth amid desperate cries of his name.

More like his nickname, but now wasn’t the time to get into specifics.

You were so lost, lost in how he’d switch his focus from one to another, reducing you to putty in his hands, that you were given a hard snap back into reality and then back into cloud nine when he gripped your hips, rocking you against the fabric of his jeans. Friction on your clothed clit. Your mouth falling open. Your eyelashes fluttering as your hands desperately gripped his shoulders, the material of your panties getting more soaked by the second.

The sunset of New York washing over you both. Setting the scene in the oh-so-familiar spotlight that was oh-so more… dizzying. “Feels s’good, Cee.” You breathed, pressing thank-you kisses to his neck, but he shook his head, pulling you back up gently as he kept rocking you, over and over, increasing the delicious pressure each and every time. Ensuring that you were a mess. Ensuring that your pussy throbbed for him.

“S’all for you, baby.” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Take what you want, m’all yours. That’s a beautiful girl. That’s my pretty girl.” He took a moment to huff out a breath. His jeans were tight as hell right now, but this was your moment, and he’d fight like hell to keep it that way.

Damn Sarah to hell. That was an un-sexy thought. Back to the gorgeous girl above him.

He gently rolled the two of you over so he was on top, his hand reaching down to tug down your panties at a slow pace, kissing down the length of your legs until his eyes locked on your glistening cunt. The sight had a groan tumbling from deep in his chest, his directory changing as he rid himself of his jacket, shirt, belt and jeans, kicking off his socks as he inched forward. Next thing you knew, your legs were on his shoulders, his mouth sucking at your clit and two of his fingers easing inside you, the one grounding force his hand rubbing your thigh soothingly, as an assurance that you were doing so well for him.

“So gorgeous.” He hummed, sending vibrations through you that had you throwing your head back against the pillows, one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets like a lifeline. You were half scared that you’d tear right through them, he was that good at working you, playing you like a damn fiddle.

His fingers crooked just right, hitting your g-spot like he had an in-built homing device to it, continuing to in a ‘come here’ motion, beckoning your climax while your head spun with the amount of sensations hitting you at once. His mouth sucking again and again at your clit until he dipped down to lap at your soaked pussy before returning his attention to where it was before. Irregular intervals, just to keep your toes curling, breath hitching and eyes rolling back.

And with one more stroke, one more flick, he had you tipping over the edge, coming on his fingers, and he left your clit to drink it all up as you shook, cried out his name, writhed above him and made him feel that much more powerful. He made sure none of your sweetness went to waste, so he could feel it all on his tongue while he scissored you open, slow movements so he wouldn’t overwhelm you. His other hand gently setting down your legs and rubbing a soothing circle on your stomach before he looked up at you, mouth and chin glistening before he licked his lips, collecting the mess on his chin with his thumb and sucking it all off.

The sight almost had you coming again.

He moved back up your body, leaving soft presses of his mouth - his stamp of approval - wherever he went until he reached your mouth, withdrawing his fingers from your soaked pussy and licking them clean, keeping eye contact before he cupped your cheek with his hand and firmly kissed you, grinding his clothed need against you slowly. Making sure you felt it.

“Only you.” He murmured, kissing your nose before rolling you so you were on top of him, straddling him, and he was propping himself against the headboard again. “Only you do this to me, sweet girl. Nobody else. Just you.” Next thing you knew, he was once again taking your breath away by getting his boxers off, ripping a silver packet open with his teeth. Rolling the condom on and taking your hips, lowering you down onto his waiting cock.

Groaning as he felt you, letting your forehead fall against his shoulder, taking in your whines of his name from those pretty lips and letting them send him to cloud ten as he moaned out yours. Your hips already rocking as you fit him like a glove, your bodies slotting together perfectly as your face remained close to his. Him watching every minuscule twitch of those gorgeous features, with his flushed cheeks, hazy emerald eyes and swollen, reddened, parted lips.

“So good, sweet boy.” You moaned out as your lips connected with his, lifting and lowering yourself back down so you could take him deep. A twitch from his hips jolting you slightly and having your noses knock together, which elicited matching giggles from both of you. “Easy there, cowboy.”

“Easier said than done when the girl of my wildest dreams is riding me, lookin’ all pretty. Taking me so goddamn well.” CJ’s voice came out strained, his core tight as he desperately tried to hold on for you, when you were squeezing him in a way which had his eyes rolling back and him wondering whether he was in heaven. He let you set the pace, loosely holding your hips and watching for any sign of fatigue as you took what you needed. What you deserved. All amid hot, slow kisses, gentle nips at exposed skin and whispered, shaky words of love and affection.

Your pinky entwining with his.

Your stuttering hips were your sign that you needed him to take over, so he rolled you over onto your back, keeping his strokes long and deep so you could feel every inch of him. Your hand pinned above your head, but it was being held by his as he nipped your earlobe, kissed down your jaw and reached your neck, brushing his lips feather-light in a way that had your mouth falling open.

“Cee, baby, o-oh, don’t stop,” You begged, the free hand of yours alternating between threading in his hair and resting between his shoulder blades. Your nails dug into his back, but he didn’t mind in the slightest, knowing it was an outlet along with the cries and pleas spilling from your lips like a prayer to go faster and don’t stop. He picked up his pace, going slightly faster and brushing up against your g-spot, your toes curling, eyes rolling and legs locking around his waist.

The way CJ was looking at you topped it off. With adoration in his eyes, paired with his praises that he whispered against your skin and your lips, kissing them sweetly every now and then. The hand that wasn’t holding yours was cradling your face. “Taking me so well, sweet girl.” He’d murmur before kissing your nose. “You look so gorgeous right now. So damn gorgeous.” Another kiss on the nose, and then a drawn-out thrust. Your hand would grip his tighter, you’d cry out his name and you’d be that much closer to tipping over the edge.

He got you there faster, not switching pace but thrusting harder as he then reached between the two of you, stroking your clit in time with his movements, keeping an eye on you in case you felt any discomfort.

None at all. You were in heaven. Sparks instantly shot through your body and had your legs not been around CJ’s waist, you’d be bucking your hips. Your whines and moans got that much louder, and CJ was almost shaking in the attempt to hold out and let you come first. His teeth gritted as he thrust into you, moaning low in his throat as your walls squeezed and fluttered around him, a sign you were close.

The headboard acted as a steady pulse, the thumb on your clit insistent and you fought to keep your eyes from rolling back but failing miserably. You felt like you were on fire, getting hotter and hotter, and like you were the brightest star in the sky with how CJ was looking at you with the awe that one would have when they visit one of the wonders of the world. To CJ, you were the eighth. The irony that stars were beginning to appear in front of your eyes. “Come for me, sweet girl.” CJ choked out, almost begging as he gasped shakily, his thrusts growing more erratic and sloppy. Still absolutely amazing, though. Just to make that clear on your part. “Please? N-Need to feel you, baby. Doing so well, pretty girl, please, just c-come for me.”

Your vision almost went black as you came hard, your head falling back, which gave CJ the opportunity to press his lips to the curve of your neck, soft and barely there as he thrust once, twice before he spilled into the condom, hips stuttering and a gasp being torn from his throat as he choked out your name over and over like a prayer.

You looked down to see him, and you instantly felt a rising warmth in your heart upon seeing CJ like this, just for you. Eyes screwed shut, hair messed up, lips parted and letting out moans just for you. You’d forgotten anything was even said about you by the time you both came down from your highs, marvelling at how his lean shoulders heaved from the exertion.

He looked up at you with a loving smile, kissing your forehead before pulling out of you, disposing of the condom before immediately going back to you and smoothing your hair back with kisses all over your face. “Incredible.” Was all he could murmur, in the aftershocks of the aftershocks. “You were absolutely incredible, pretty girl.”

“So were you. You had me at a loss for words the entire time.” You giggled, giving him a sweet kiss back. “Sweet boy. Pretty boy.”

“Shuddup.” He grinned, nuzzling your nose with a low chuckle. “Let’s get in the shower, hm? And I’ll change the sheets when we get back. No crusty fluids.” Then he paused, both of you snickering. “That was an un-sexy thing to say. Sorry, I think I just ruined the mood.”

“Nah.” You kissed the tip of his nose. “You made it.”

Three days later, you were meeting CJ after a meeting with your lecturer on your latest Psych essay on how well you’d done, and CJ was shuffling in his bag for some notes that he had to give Sarah, who was sauntering over as we speak.

“Oh, CJ!” She trilled, pouting unnecessarily. Probably to draw attention to those obnoxiously glossy lips. “Got those notes for me? I hate to miss lectures.” Everyone knew she skipped it to buy new makeup, but he played along, wordlessly took out the notes and handed it over. “Oh, thanks so much, handsome. I, uh, don’t see your girlfriend anywhere.” She made a show of looking around. “Maybe we could-”

“Sarah, I’ll stop you right there.” He held up a finger. “I’m not gonna go on a date with you, definitely not when you’ve been smack talking about my girlfriend for the past three weeks.” Sarah looked thunderstruck. Good. “And I’m even less inclined to when I’ve got a woman in my corner who’s gorgeous, kind, sweet, smart, all of the great adjectives in the dictionary. I’m not even gonna stand here and watch you feel sorry for yourself.”

“But… baby-”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not interested.” He shot Sarah a venomous look, which changed into a lovesick stare when he saw you emerging from your meeting with a wide grin. He left Sarah looking like a lost puppy to reach you, kissing you briefly as a hello. “Hey, you.” He murmured, letting his lips have a mind of their own and trail down your neck.

You swatted his chest with a giggle, wearing his hoodie again. This time looking healthy and happy, after gorging on whatever snacks you wanted with no mental repercussions. Job well done, you both agreed. CJ hated seeing you as anything less than the bubbly girl he’d known since before he could remember. “Cee! We’re in public!”

“So?” He lifted you and spun you around before setting you down. “Got the love of my life in my arms and esteemed chairwoman of the Day Old Frosties Club and I can’t exhibit PDA? That’s a felony.”

“Arrest me.”

“I’ve always thought you’d pull off an orange jumpsuit.” Both of you burst into giggles, but then CJ took your hand and kissed the back of it, then the inside of your wrist. The way you blushed furiously then struggled to get out a response without stuttering made the last puzzle piece fit into place. You were his calling. You were the one. “At least let us splurge our coupons at Haute Couture later.”

You stood on your tiptoes, pecking CJ’s lips quickly, which had him flustered this time. “I’d love to.”

You and CJ ordered your drink (The CaraStrawberry Couple) at Haute Couture Shakes, Bella being the cheery server once again and doting over you both. It was your turn to go find a table, and CJ slipped something out of his jacket. A small rectangle card. “Here’s your repayment, Bels.”

Bella took the card suspiciously, but her face lit up when she read it. “Ten free manicures and polishes at my favourite nail salon? Oh, hon, you’re an absolute angel!”

“Turns out I did have to use what the good Lord gave me.” He quoted, and Bela punched his shoulder lightly with a chuckle.

“You sly dog.” Then she quirked an eyebrow. “This is a lil’ extra, so I’m guessing that there’s something else that you want from me.”

CJ chuckled, nodding. “That’s right. It’s a little much, but I have no idea how this works and my mom would go overboard. Plus, your sense of fashion is… incredible.”

Bella giggled again. “You flatter me. Now c’mon, tell me. Even if I have an idea.”

CJ bit his lip, then leaned forward, speaking in a low voice. “Ring shopping.” He had to cover Bella’s mouth to stifle the squeal and borderline scream that came out of her, her blue eyes lighting up in excitement. CJ cautiously took his hand off, and she still bore the same dumbstruck, euphoric expression.

“I knew it!”

I’d appreciate feedback!

TAGLIST: @k-slla @deans-daydream @hobby27

[graveyardcuddles]

I'm thinking about Astarion again and how actually amazing it is that he managed to hold onto as much of himself as he did after having had everything about his identity and sense of self systematically stripped away from him. And how it's even more incredible he managed to do so without even getting to look at himself at all in all that time.

We know his trauma cut him off from his ability to trance and therefore his ability to recall memories from before he was turned. What must it be like to have nothing? Not even happy memories to look back on? A spawn. A dead thing to be used as his master sees fit. Tortured by Cazador and Godey. Starved to the point of constant hunger pain. Forced to use his body and sexuality to seduce people who sometimes not only disgusted him but who would sometimes even hurt him...AND through all of this, this whole nightmare, he can't even see his own face. Even his own perception of himself is stolen from him.

I've gone through some horribly low points in life. Points where I've felt like I was literally losing my mind or about to end it all. And sometimes in those moments, I just had to stare at myself in the mirror, look myself in the eye and literally talk myself down. There have been times where my mental state was so bad and my perception of reality so warped I HAD to look at my own reflection in the mirror to remind myself I was still real.

Astarion remembers so little of his face that he can't remember if he ever had a mole on his cheek or not. He can't remember the color of his own EYES. For as much as fans talk about the angst of him not being able to remember his own eyes I don't know if any of us could even imagine forgetting oneself so completely that such a defining physical characteristic is lost to memory. It's difficult to imagine as beings with limited lifespans. And imagine the added torment of being forced to use your looks to survive all while never being able to actually see yourself. (This is why I can't help but feel a bit annoyed when people say things like "Well it's a GOOD thing he can't see himself, can you imagine how annoying he would be?" Like sorry you find 'petty vanity' annoying, it still doesn't mean he deserved to have his sense of self-perception stripped away).

So much of him was killed in the process over those two hundred years of abuse and neglect in order to survive. I think it's fair to say Astarion likely wasn't a saint before he was turned by Cazador but we do know at one point there WAS a kind, sympathetic part of himself that took pity on that young man he spared. A part that I'm sure had to be killed in order for Astarion to survive and remain sane. And in ALL that time there was never once any moment where he could look at himself in the mirror and tell himself that he was still himself.

He lost everything, even the memory of his own eye color. But he wouldn't allow himself to be lost completely. He still talked back. Still screamed the loudest when tortured. Still held onto his anger, his rage his burning desire for revenge. And when he gets the opportunity to take his freedom he fucking LEAPS for it. He is so bound and determined to STAY free once he is free he would literally rather die than go back to Cazador. He's a survivor above all else and I love him so much.