#🚨 update alert

[buffynha]

Muse

By crushed2

Brittany Pierce left everything behind in Ohio in hopes of finding a new beginning in New York City, and by everything she meant her trust in people and her passion for performing. A chance encounter with a beautiful model may just change all of that.

Rated: Fiction M

Genre: Romance/Drama

Pairing: Santana L., Brittany P.

Status: ongoing

Chapters: 27

Words: 450,596

Published: Apr 8, 2022

Updated: Oct 13, 2024

[gothyanki]

OMG BLEDEN MARK

[seowoobins]

231104 : twt update

[yenqa]

ADVANTAGES ☆

in which…

on jay’s live, fans point out a stuffed animal on his bed, one that seems to be the other piece to your notorious missing pair. as imaginary pieces start to connect for fans, the viewers beg for some kind of interaction. and though you and jay have never met before, why not use this situation to your advantage?

pairing – streamer!jay x fem!reader

genre – strangers to lovers, this is not fake dating (sorry guys), kind of forced proximity, streamer au, short smau (20 chapters), little angst mostly fluff

warnings – swearing, slut shaming, romance stuff, food/eating, kms/dying jokes, haters, warnings are stated in each chapter!

featuring – jay, jake, sunghoon, y/n (duh), hyeju, fans

disclaimer – i am not saying this is an accurate representation of these idols or trying to sexualize them at all. this just something i do for fun.

taglist – CLOSED, ty for being interested!

yenqa – hey guys! i love streamer aus and jay so here this is 🙏

status – FINISHED! 11/10/23-03/18/24, slow updates <3

perm taglist – @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee

PLEASE NO SPAM LIKING

profiles

001 – soulja boy

002 – like bluejay.

003 – OUR girlfriend

004 – 93 hour mewing streak

005 – losing hearing in my left eye

006 – The other woman 💔💔

007 – green hair – 1028 words

008 – me next

009 – who is pina colada.

010 – LIAR ALERT 🚨

011 – stupid question – 1019 words

012 – CASHMERE*****

013 – about that…

014 – until i met you

015 – i’m sorry that i couldn’t be your teenage dream. – 1829 words

016 – damage control 😜

017 – roode

018 – Get off my twitter.

019 – mhm.

020 – peace - 1145 words

021 – New look.

022 – happy birthday!

epilogue – just got married <3

extra : soulja boy finds love

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[scam-alerts]

🚨Scammer Alert🚨

Post updated 12/13/24

New accounts running this scam:

Banned accounts running this scam: @profoundcollectionangel > @supportgazalady + perfectlythoughtfulbanana

Evidence of them being scam accounts:

Stories are near if not 100% identical. (hint: mother has LS)

They repeatedly change their 'real name' (as seen below.)

Accounts reported to also be run by this scammer: fuzzychildlight now qualitycherryblossombluebird deliciouslightpenguin now weepingwerewolfdestiny also maximumdinosaurbouquet (12/2/24) magnificentdragonengineer (blog is still up but the post is gone)

Reason(s) why it is to be believed this same scammer is running @deliciouslightpenguin>weepingwerewolfdestiny: -Claims to need Insulin. -Claims to be a Palestinian from Gaza. -'Vetted and verified' but will not say by who. -And, going through various reblogs every week up until their original posting date, you'll notice that- like the image above with the accounts listed above, they have a very bad habit of changing their name and using the name Alfaat.

This same thing can be seen with @qualitycherryblossombluebird:

Comparisons between weepingwerewolfdestiny and maximumdinosaurbouquet:

Again, notice the name Alfaat.

Previous/banned blogs that ran this same scam were: androgynousrunawaytree > deepesttragedyprince > atomiccollect29r > androgynousmusicpeace > generousreviewladdy > scrumptiouswastelandphantom > shinytastemakerphantom > holywerewolfgiver

The names they used on PayPal.me in the past have been: Betty Nekesa - Masudi Salim Akinyi Salome - Nestor Sally Jane Kisiangani - Diana Achieng Mercy Siomi

supportgazalady - Masudi Salim (12/8/24)

weepingwerewolfdestiny - Masudi Salim ( https://archive.ph/MRDiZ 12/2/24)

maximumdinosaurbouquet - Diana Achieng (connection) ( https://archive.ph/6QrMT 12/2/24)

Diana Achieng is being used by @foggyruinsblog

You can read more about them in this post here.

---------- Tips and tricks for scam spotting. A guide on how to spot a insulin scam. Info on Scams where someone pretends to be Palestinian. Other helpful guides on spotting scams.

Current list of documented scammers: Part 1 and Part 2

Disclaimer: This post is only meant to serve as documentation and reference material so that others know: why this person is a scammer, and to provide more information about the scam they are running. I do not, in any way, endorse harassment or mass reporting these users. Only report posts related to asks, comments, or messages if you GET them or ones like them. Thank you.

[bballesbolol]

The Game We Play

Paige x Azzi boarding school roommates AU

warnings: maybe food stuff?

a/n: PLOT ALERT PLOT ALERT 🚨 THE GIRLS ARE MEETING ‼️ On a real note the last chapter did kinda well so here’s your double update 🤗 She’s a little longer than usual. I’d love to hear what you think of it, and if you’re really good in my inbox I’ll give you the jersey one shot I’ve been teasing…

wc: 8.8k

Chapter 4

Paige:

It had been a week since Paige last talked to Azzi.

Well, kinda.

Paige had temporarily dedicated herself to keeping up a streak with Azzi, so their interactions had been limited to half faced selfies sent thoughtlessly back and forth. It really wasn’t much, just cordial. The equivalent of a head nod in the hallway.

But now Paige was in the back of a rental car leaving her hotel and heading for Spooky Nook. She had flown into Pennsylvania the night prior to the Under Armour Summit, and her body could feel the effects of the firm hotel mattress she’d slept on. But she was ready to play despite her sub-par sleep and slightly achy back.

She hadn’t forgotten Azzi’s threat. How she needed to “back up her talk”, and no matter how lightly she had meant it, Paige had taken it to heart. Because a challenge was a challenge, no matter how empty Azzi’s was—and she didn’t like to lose. She was playing to get on college's radar, of course, but for some reason, she felt more motivation to beat Azzi than she felt about getting noticed.

She glanced at the GPS on her dads phone.

2 minutes to arrival

Her phone buzzed, drawing her eyes to the screen.

Azzi Fudd sent you a snap ■

She clicked to notification, which opened to a picture of the outside of the complex they were playing at. She chose to be safe—keep up their routine—and responded with a picture of the dashboard, before slipping her phone into the front pocket of her basketball bag.

They hadn’t talked, like, really talked since Azzi had agreed to be her roommate. Their parents had exchanged numbers and filled out roommate forms, but she hadn’t really spoken to Azzi since.

Now she was seeing her in person, maybe even playing against her if the tournament bracket fell that way. And honestly? She was excited. Excited to actually speak face to face? yes. But also to play her, maybe show off a little, and especially to win. Almost everything in her felt like it was her responsibility to prove Azzi wrong.

The parking lot was full when they pulled in to spooky nook, and Paige had insisted that her dad drop her off and find parking so she wouldn’t be late for registration. She wanted to make sure she had time to lurk—scope out everyone who was invited.

She opened the double doors into the lobby and was immediately assaulted by a sea of crazy moms and dads escorting their children to a mile-long folding table covered in a rainbow of jerseys, with workers behind it handing out game schedules and informational packets. The noise wasn’t overwhelming, but it was loud. Screaming younger siblings, scolding moms, social dads, all joining together in a symphony of sound. She scanned the crowd, seeing if there was any method to the madness happening in front of her. She looked closer and discovered that the table was organized by last name, all marked by bold and printed letters incrementally placed along it. She tried her hardest to fight the crowd and drift towards the large B near the start of the table—managing to arrive only having ran into 3 players and one wandering toddler.

“Name?” A worker had leaned over the table, her eyes meeting Paige’s, brows arched in a way that screamed let's get this over with.

”Paige”

the worker looked down at her clipboard and let out a subtle huff.

“Last name please?”

“Oh—sorry it's Bueckers” she replied, a slight flush peeking through on her face.

The woman looked down at the table sorting through the pilled jersey before grabbing out an orange one with the number 218 on the back.

“You’re on team orange, you’ll be playing in the gold pool” She handed over a tournament schedule and a map of the complex before continuing, “all courts are open for warm-ups, at 8:00 you’ll head to court 3 to meet with your team for team warm ups, and then you’ll just follow the schedule.”

Paige stared blankly at the woman, trying to absorb the mass of information. The woman smiled and handed over a pamphlet.

”everything I said is in here if you can’t remember, I’d suggest you get down to the courts quick if you want to get a ball to yourself to warm up”

Paige let out an internal sigh of relief and smiled before thanking the woman and heading towards the courts, weaving through the sea of athletes picking up their jerseys, until one voice stopped her.

“Fudd” the sound carried through the crowd, loud enough for her to hear.

Paige's head turned, catching a glimpse of a girl in a baggy sweatshirt, headphones resting around her neck, and black mesh Nike shorts, with her hair up in a tight bun.

Azzi.

Paige lingered, waiting for the worker to finish giving azzi the run-down on tournament play and court numbers. Not starring—she’d looked away as soon as she saw her just to be safe—just waiting.

Azzi turned from the table, seemingly not noticing Paige floating nearby. Not until she crept up on her and playfully squeezed her shoulder.

“Hey!” Paige exclaimed, trying to sound as cool and casual as possible.

Azzi jumped slightly, before smiling and rolling her eyes, turning her head to face forward and continue walking towards the courts.

“Restraining order, remember?”

Paige shrugged “I guess the paperwork didn’t go through” she mused, acting playfully confused.

“Ohh yeah—I forgot to file, but I’ll definitely have to now. There’s like what, 100 kids here? And your stalker-ass still managed to find me?” Azzi replied with a grin, shoving Paige with her shoulder.

”Hey B is really close to F on that table, it's not my fault, blame whoever wrote the alphabet like a million years ago” Paige shot back

Azzi let out an amused exhale and turned away, “a milli—whatever—what team are you on?”

”orange”

“pool?”

”gold, you?”

”I'm on blue, playing in gold pool.”

Same pool. They’d be seeing each other for sure .

Paige turned to her and smirked, “Oh, so I get to beat you in a 5 on 5 first?”

”Who said that?” Azzi replied, sounding slightly offended.

Paige snorted, ”uh—me. I’m going iso and cooking your ass every play”

Azzi glared at her and rolled her eyes. They reached the double doors leading to the courts and Paige grabbed the handle of the door closest to her to let herself in, turning and holding it for Azzi as she followed.

“Like I said, you gotta back it up” Paige watched as Azzi walked over to a rack of basketballs and picked one up, bouncing it once before passing it to her—like, hard.

She caught it—with minimal difficulty—a smirk spreading on her face. She could feel that Azzi already wanted to rip her head off, and she could tell that if they played each other, it was gonna be good. She watched as Azzi grabbed another ball for herself and moved to pull her headphones up over her ears, beginning to walk away.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Paige called out.

Azzi stopped, holding one hand of her headphones off of her ear and without looking called back, “away from you—no way I’m warming up with the girl who’s gonna ‘beat my ass’” She emphasized the last part with air quotes, before dropping the other side of her headphones onto her ear and continuing to walk towards a hoop on the opposite side of the court.

Paige almost opened her mouth to retort, but thought better of it—obviously she wouldn’t hear her anyways. Instead, she carried her ball over to a nearby wall and sat down to put on her shoes—a pair of Kobe 5 X-ray’s—and half heartedly stretch her legs.

She slipped on her jersey over the loose black undershirt she came in and shot up, grabbing her ball and scanning the gym. Her eyes found Azzi, who was across the form shooting. Paige looked away as Azzi turned to move back from the hoop. She didn’t need to know she was watching—not yet at least. She moved towards an empty hoop and started her warm up with form shots 2 or 3 feet out from the basket, slowly moving back the more she made.

After a few minutes Paige had entirely abandoned the idea of warming up and had moved back to the three point line. It was an easy way to warm up her handle and her shot—at least that’s what she told herself.

tween—cross—hessi—drive—pull-up elbow jumper.

swish

yeah, I’ve got this girl beat.

A buzzer echoed through the gym, signaling that it was time for team warmups. Paige moved to grab her bag, racking her brain for what court she was supposed to go to. 2? 3? she couldn’t remember in the slightest. She settled on heading towards court 2, following whatever orange jerseys she could find.

***

She didn’t recognize many of the players on her team, but they all seemed good enough. Their team warm up was short, a half lap, a quick stretch, layup lines, and three man weave, all in the span of about 10 minutes. Her shot had been inconsistent warming up, a good sign for her—usually if her shots were falling in warm up she went bone dry in the game.

Now she stood in a circle with her teammates surrounding a whiteboard outlining an offense they’d be running. It was simple, a four-out-one-in with a few screens to open up the 2 and 4 players, but overall lacking in hard structure—she had space to play with it. And she’d be taking up as much of that space as she could.

The coach gave a basic rundown of the structure of the games. It’d be just like school ball. They’re running 8 minute quarter games, subs will be quick. 2 games played at a time in each pool, 8 teams, if you win you move on and play another winner, if you lose you play the losers, at most you play 3 full games. Blah blah blah. Paige was just ready to play.

The team counted off, and Paige sauntered to center court for the jump ball, scanning the bleachers on her way over. Most of the girls were sitting in the stands on their phones, except for one. Azzi. She was looking out at the court, headphones still on and phone in her hand, but her eyes were up and watching. She looked swiftly back down to her phone—but, Paige could have sworn she was looking at her.

But she had no time to look again. She set up on the edge of the logo behind the teams center, hinged at the hip and grasping the hem of her shorts. The whistle sounded. The center jumped and tapped the ball back. Paige jumped to grab it, pulling the ball to her waist before approaching the edge of the three point line.

A big to her left set an on ball screen, which she used, brushing off her defender and scanning the court. To her delight, the opposing center left her player to guard her as she came around the screen, which she gratefully took advantage of, feeding her center the ball for a wide open for an easy two points.

The rest of the game felt just as easy. Good defense led to steals. Steals led to easy buckets. she could score at will, but she wasn’t selfish. Not yet. Not when the stakes were so low. She made sure to get her teammates involved—once she’d had her fair share of offense, of cours.

By halftime she had scored 16 points and tallied 5 assists, and her team was up 32-21. Not up by enough to feel comfortable yet, but they certainly weren’t scrambling.

She sat on the bench, elbows on her knees, watching their coach write up the starting lineup for the second quarter—which she wasn’t in. understandably so, she had only come off the court for a few minutes in the first half. Still, she wished she could get in and play.

She zoned out while the coach explained a new out of bounds play, taking a drink from someone’s gatorade bottle and instead focusing on the crowd across the court.

She met a pair of brown eyes across the floor—just for a second.

Paige watched as she glanced back down to her phone, a smirk spreading on her face.

she knew she’d been watching, she’d felt her eyes on her the whole game. and she hoped she got her message: she came to play.

She put her hand in to count off her team and watched the starting five take the court, leaning back in her chair. She stared intently, eyes shifting between the players in front of her, following the movement of the ball. She was itching to get back in.

That itch wasn’t scratched until the top of the fourth quarter. The game had gotten closer, the other team had gone on a run and cut their lead down to 5. her coach looked at her and cocked her head to the scorers table. She moved over, knelt, and at the sound of the buzzer she walked back into the game.

7 minutes left. Just enough for her to ice it—and maybe show out for the fans.

She received the ball and squared up to the hoop, surveying the floor for her next move. She spotted it. A screen coming to her left, drop coverage, a back door cut clearing just enough space for her to get off a shot. She ran her defender into the screen, stepped back, and let the ball fly. Swish. Three points.

She didn’t react—well, not too much—just grinned and got back on defense.

Their defense was running hard. Hands up, rotations on, feet moving like second nature. Next thing she knew, they had gotten a stop and Paige once again found herself at the top of the key with the ball in her hands. Scanning the floor, just for a moment.

She drove at her defender, shifting her weight right before crossing over to her left, insisting her way to the rim. She attempted to finish around the help defense with a euro step. She felt a shoulder drill into her ribs mid-air, and was knocked to the ground right after she released the ball.

She stayed down for a second—just long enough to watch the ball bounce around the rim before falling through the net.

“AND ONE!!” A teammate grabbed her arm and dragged her from the floor.

She bumped chests with whoever was near. Cheered. Walked to the line.

Looked to the stands.

Nobody looked back. The game was winding down, Azzi’s team must have gone to huddle somewhere quiet. But, something in her wished Azzi had seen.

She bounced the ball once, before spinning it into her palm and moving to shoot, letting the ball fly gently from her fingers. It fell through the hoop with a soft swish.

Paige let herself pull back from the game. The game was over, it didn't matter that there was still a minute left. Their lead had extended back to 11. She had scored 22. Now she could facilitate—let the team close it out.

The game ended 58-44. They shook hands. laughed. Paige revived a pat on the back and a couple of “damn she’s good’s” from the opposing team coaches.

Their coach cut the team loose, telling them to be back ten minutes before their next game. Most of the team dispersed between the many courts, some headed for the consignment stand or back to the lobby, but Paige didn’t. She surveyed the court for the least conspicuous spot to watch the next game from—settled on sitting on the floor up against a pillar next to the bleachers—and sat, grabbing her phone.

Azzi Fudd sent you a snap ■

oh great. She opened the snap and was greeted with an image of her sitting on the bench, leaned back, with her arms resting behind her head, eyes fixed on the game in front of her, captioned “oh you’re keeping that bench WARM”.

She rolled her eyes. Looked up. Both teams were in layup lines, Azzi was running back to halfcourt and glanced at Paige, first at her deadpan expression, and then to the phone in her hand. An amused grin spread on her lips before she turned abruptly and ran back down the court.

Paige didn't say anything, just shut off her phone and watched.

Azzi:

The ride to Spooky Nook was quick, but not uneventful.

“now listen, this is a chance to show off who you are, not just how you play. you gon’ lead on the court today, not follow. now I know you young and all, but you have something this lil’ girls don’t have—discipline. I bet you they don’t know hard work like you do—“

Her dad had been going on like this for what…like, 5 minutes? she wasn’t sure, had checked out a minute in. She loved her dad, and his advice was helpful—well, sometimes—but not now, not when he believed she was the best player in the country.

Because she wasn’t, she statistically couldn’t be. She was only 14. was she good? yes. was she better than the 16 year old DI bound girls she’d be playing? all signs point to no.

Still, she listened. nodded. half hoping he would tell her it’s ok if she didn’t perform, that she was allowed to make mistakes playing at this callibur.

She phased back into reality when her dad changed the subject.

“so, that roommate of yours gonna be there? that bueckers girl?”

“yeah—“ she could barely finish the word.

“oh that’s just perfect. get to know her play style before school, you know? you guys are gonna be fighting for that spot at the point, and I know that lil’ ass white girl don’t got nothing on my Azzi.”

and just like that he was back to the same old speech.

observe, outwork, compete, win.

she’d heard it a million times.

It was what rang in her ears during warmups, in between quarters, at halftime, post game, hell, it even made it into her dreams.

But he had made a point. This was the start of her and Paige’s fight for the spot on the team. For point guard. Playmaker. Leader. Star.

And she was gonna win.

***

the lobby was crowded, but Paige had still managed to track her down.

They exchanged words—brief and a little threatening—and then had gone there separate ways. Or rather, Azzi had tried to get as far away from Paige as possible. Because she knew her game, and it was all talk. The less of her she heard the better.

Her shot was on, her body felt loose, her skin buzzed with anticipation—and she had to play second. Wonderful—if she wanted to kill whatever momentum she had going.

She met with her team at the buzzer, they talked strategy, what they’d be running, who goes where.

Azzi studied, tried to absorb every scrap of information.

And then they were ushered to the nearby bleachers, told to stay ready. Most of the team sat on their phones, some chatted quietly, but Azzi watched, or more accurately—read.

She attempted to maintain an air of nonchalance, a look of boredom, like she couldn’t care less how Paige played. But she watched. Read how the team played drop coverage on ball screens. How they rotated. Who cut where. When they attacked and when they slowed down.

Most importantly she watched Paige.

And for some reason, it felt like Paige was watching her too. Acknowledging her presence. A glance after a made three. The slight turn of her head before inbounding the ball. A challenge. She was telling her that she came to play.

Half time came quickly. Paige’s team was leading, not enough to end it, but enough to exhale and slow down.

She watched as the team took the court—and how Paige didn’t.

How she sat on the bench. how she managed to look so bored, hands resting behind her head, leaned back gaze lazily following the play.

Azzi laughed to herself as an idea crept into her. She grabbed her phone, opened snapchat and took a picture. captioned it with something she would expect out of Paige: immature, teasing, unserious.

Oh you’re keeping that bench WARM.

She smiled to herself as she sent it, returning to the game.

The ending was expected. a run from the opposing team, answered by a run from Paige that carried them comfortably into round two.

Now it was Azzi’s turn.

warmups were quick, layup lines, elbow jumpers, a three man weave. The anticipatory buzz was back by the time the team huddled.

By the time they broke from the huddle the buzz felt more like electricity.

They won the tip. One of Azzi’s teammates passed her the ball. She slowed at the tip of the key, carefully scanning the court. Reading. Calculating. She made eye contact with a big man in the corner. Dribbled towards the wing. She tilted her head slightly, signaling for her big to back door cut. When she did, Azzi slipped her the ball and relocated to the corner, watching as she drove towards the basket.

Azzi watched as she was met with a double team at the rim. She called for the ball in the corner, squaring to the hoop in anticipation for the shot. The ball met her hands for a split second before Azzi moved to shoot, flicking her wrist with the careful finesse of a sharpshooter.

swish.

First on the board. Easy shot. Still, no stopping. Not this early.

Azzi turned to get back on defense when something—no, someone—caught her eye. Paige, sitting on the floor leaned back against a pillar, eyes set on the play. Not her, but the action at the other end of the court.

She wasn’t sure if she had seen her shot—not that it mattered—but, she knew she was watching, and she wanted to give her a show. Make her nervous.

She shifted as the ball swung from player to player around the three point line. There was a pause, a sloppy interior pass that was tipped by her teammate, and she was gone. She looked back as she sprinted towards her hoop, tracking down a near full-court pass and finishing at the rim.

She turned to the sideline again and found Paige, who was not looking at her, and was instead staring down at her phone. Because of course she was. She didn’t seem like the type of person to scout—not like Azzi—analysis was not in the Bueckers playbook.

But it was in Azzi’s. She watched the opposing team’s plays as she defended, predicting.

She jumped passing lanes, picked pockets, called screens, anything she could do to get the ball back into her teams hands.

She took a back seat on offense, letting the other guard bring the ball up when she could. She wanted to get to her jumpshot as much as possible, and catch and shoot was her best option.

And it was working. She ran her defender through an off ball screen, receiving the ball at the arc and shooting it masterfully over an outstretched hand. Cash.

She received the ball of a handoff, took a quick sidestep, and let her shot fly. Bang.

The ball was swung to her in the corner, and she shot it with the quickness of a professional. Swish.

She was hot. She had reached a point where shooting felt like breathing—simple, subconscious—the points came easy.

Her team had thrown together a sizable lead. Enough to cruise through the second quarter without tensing up after a turnover or missed shot. Enough for Azzi to sit out for the third quarter. At the start of the fourth her coach leaned over to her. Told her she was saving her for the next game. Patted her shoulder and turned back to the game.

Azzi took a deep breath. Held it. Let it out slowly and closed her eyes. She was glad for a break—even more glad at the compliment from her coach—but her body wasn’t ready to be still yet. She still had more in her. She wanted to play.

Her knees bounced as she anxiously watched the game, not out of fear that they wouldn’t win, but out of anticipation to get back in—which she still hoped for despite the fact that her coach had made it clear she wouldn’t be doing.

The game wound down. Azzi stood to high five her teammates and shake hands with the other team. Their coach told them to take a quick break, grab some water and walk off the game.

She tried to keep the disappointment off her face as she approached the sideline.

“Trying to take my spot Fudd?” She looked around, eyes settle in on the ground in front of her. Paige was still sitting leaned up against a pillar.

“Me? Nope, just keeping it warm for you.” She replied, thinking for a moment and then adding, “you should be seeing plenty of bench time during school ball” Her delivery was deadpan. Serious, like she meant it. But Paige just laughed.

“Me? Funny. I balled out, guessing you saw. Good game by the way, you kinda got nerfed by that coach.”

Azzi looked down at Paige, trying to analyze what she was getting at. She couldn’t tell if she was trying to compliment her or be backhanded—considering the fact it was Paige? Probably both.

“I showed out first half, they wanted to take me out to save my legs. Lucky for you, you’ll play me at my best.” Her voice sounded oddly scathing, but she didn’t care to fix her tone.

“Oh, it’s like that?” Paige cocked her head

”mhm” she crossed her arms and looked down at Paige.

Paige stood up slowly, grabbed her bag and turned to look—slightly down—at Azzi.

”Well, you still have to make it past round two. Let’s hope you can get in this time.” Her words were sickly sweet, a challenge masked with a smile. A stupid, cocky, all too familiar Paige Bueckers smile.

Paige turned away before Azzi could reply, walking towards a couple of her teammates. Azzi was seething.

She made her way to the water fountain and placed her bottle under the sensor, pausing to breathe. She had only known Paige for a few days, but it was already pretty clear to her how she operated. She poked. Prodded. Tried her best to get under peoples skin. And Azzi was determined not to let her. When she looked up water was spilling over the sides of her bottle. She quickly grabbed it, screwing the top back on and trying her best to dry off the sides with her jersey. Nope, she was not letting Paige get to her. Not today.

***

Her second game was more eventful, for her at least. She couldn’t say the same for the other team. She was back on, drilling shots from anywhere she could. Problem was, Paige was too.

They were playing at the same time, courts parallel to each other. She could hear their bench light up when Paige made a shot. The snap of the net. She tried her best to keep her eyes on her own game, but it was proving to be a challenge.

She caught her eyes drifting to the other court whenever it got particularly loud—just to peek, see who was worth the celebration.

And of course it was Paige.

Of course she managed to meet Azzi's gaze whenever she dared to look over.

Of course that stupid smirk spread across her face whenever Azzi scrambled to look away.

She hated it. How she knew it went to her head. So she stopped, convinced herself that whatever Paige was doing was not worth her attention.

She focused on her game. On her shots. The sound of the net as she found the bottom of it once again. A part of her hoped she made Paige stare too.

She had found a rhythm, every shot felt like second nature, every drive like a walk in the park. Her team was up, not a blow out, but still comfortable.

By the sound of it, Paige was up too. Perfect.

Halftime came quickly.

Her team was gathered around a whiteboard, watching their coach draw up new rotations in their offense. Azzi leaned back in her chair, listening half heartedly, but her eyes weren’t on the play. They were instead fixed on a bench across the court. Half zoned out, half searching for a certain blonde.

“Azzi.” She felt a tap on her knee as her coach tried to reel her back in. “You listening? We’re running this for you”

She looked back down to the whiteboard, attempting to take in the play in front of her. Double screen, point guard would drive and kick to her coming off of the screen on the wing. Simple. Effective.

Azzi nodded, signaling to her coach she was ready.

The buzzer sounded and she was back out on the court.

The game ran smoothly. Their lead never faltered enough for her chest to tighten.

The fourth was winding down, and the team wanted to end on a bucket. Momentum for the final. Azzi looked to her coach, she was signaling to run their new play.

She called it, running up the floor with the ball before passing it off to the other guard. She watched as the pieces fell into place. The bigs lined up for the screen. The drive. The kick.

She cut to the wing, brushing shoulders with the screener leaving her defender off balance at the free throw line. The ball found its way to her hands. She loaded her shot, looked to the rim and let it fly.

It hit the back iron, rolled around the rim, and lipped out.

A chorus of ohh’s and so close’s sounded from her bench.

The buzzer echoed throughout the gym. But applause seemed to echo even louder.

Azzi turned around to find the source of the noise.

And—of course—it was coming from Paige's court. Her team was huddled around her at the top of the key. The bench was on their feet cheering.

Azzi looked to the score. 63-60.

She could already imagine what had happened. Close game. Down to the wire. They needed a clutch bucket and Paige was there—because of course she was.

The huddle dissipated, revealing Paige standing in the middle. She stared back at Azzi. Smirked—not the playful kind, the kind that made Azzi want to knock her teeth out—and turned away.

Azzi turned too. Tried to hide her annoyance. Failed, apparently.

Her teammate patted her on the shoulder. “hey, you’re good, just saving that shot for the final.”

another chimed in, “yeah, we still won, and you still had like what, 20?”

Azzi nodded, a strained smile spreading across her face, followed by a curt nod.

She followed the team back to their bench. Half listened as their coach broke down the game, putting most of her attention on the floor in front of her. She was pissed. She should’ve made that shot—she certainly could’ve. It’s not like it was for the game, but it felt like it had knocked down the momentum she worked to build up all day.

Her coach let them go, told them to grab a snack before the bronze medal match. She grabbed her bag and left the gym, hoping for a moment of silence in the lobby.

Paige:

After game two she felt beat. She wasn't on empty yet, but she was definitely nearing a quarter tank. She needed fuel.

Luckily, the green and purple teams were playing for bronze, and she had 45 minutes to kill.

She decided it was time to visit concessions, the dull ache of her empty stomach had become too much to ignore and she needed something quick to keep her going.

She was looking though the snack stands options when something—well, someone—else caught her eye. Azzi, sitting by herself at a table on her phone, headphones on.

“what do you want?” she looked back and was greeted by the worker of the concession stand, who was staring back, drumming ber fingers on the counter impatiently.

She scrambled to find something, settling on a granola bar, a beef stick, and a packet of skittles. She grabbed her very nutritious spoils and headed over to Azzi’s table.

She slid into the seat across from Azzi, who looked up, and then down to the snacks she had brought over. She could feel the judgement before Azzi even opened her mouth.

“wow, aren’t you just the picture of heath” her delivery was deadpan. Sarcastic. Maybe a little pissed off? Paige just chose to laugh it off.

“It’s carbs and protein, right?”

Azzi gestured to the packet of skittles paige had dropped on the table.

“yeah, and sugar.” Azzi’s tone remained unchanged.

“uhh yeah, doesn’t your blood sugar get low when you play or something? i’m just giving my body what it wants” She paused for a second, noticing the aparent lack of snacks in front of Azzi. “you already have something? bring your own kale salad or grass fed beef or whatever?”

“no, I uh—wasn’t hungry after the last game. just needed some quiet out here.” She looked Paige up and down before adding, “guess I won’t be getting that though”

Paige slid the granola bar to Azzi across the table. She was hungry, she had to be. It’d be inhumane to let the girl starve.

Paige spoke up again, “well, you’re gonna have to deal with me next year, figured I’d help you get desensitized sooner”

Azzi didn’t respond at first, just looked down at the bar Paige had slid to her.

“I told you I wasn’t hungry, you have that” She watched as Azzi tried to slide the bar back over to her, reaching out to push it back.

“Trust me, you’re gonna be hungry. I want to play you at your best—don’t want to win because you’re passed out on the sideline.“ She watched as Azzi picked up the bar, seemingly considering throwing it back in Paige's face, but must have thought better of it, because she unwrapped it and took a bite.

“thanks” she mumbled around a mouthful of bar, looking back down her phone. Paige opened up the packet of skittles and popped one in her mouth. They sat in silence for a moment while they ate. Not quite uncomfortable, but definitely tense. Azzi didn’t seem happy, and she wasn’t sure why.

“you looked good” the words slipped from Paige’s lips as she considered what to say to break the silence. “In the game, I mean. Your shot looked good”

Azzi looked up from her phone.

“you were watching?” She sounded a little confused.

“scouting,“ she corrected before continuing, “had a feeling I’d be playing you in the final.” she popped another handful of skittles in her mouth.

“watching, scouting—whatever, still seems stalker-ey to me.” Azzi replied. Her tone was still flat, but the outline of a smile was threatening to show at the corners of her lips.

“Hey—you can’t talk to me about stalking. I saw you at my first game. Know damn well you weren’t there for someone else” Paige shot back with a smile.

Azzi scoffed, “Wow, you really think I'm that obsessed with you? I could’ve been watching the other team y’know”

“name one person on the other team” she looked at Azzi expectantly

She was silent. Paige was not. She let out an amused snort before crossing her arms and replying:

“mhm, exactly”

“it not like I got to see much from you anyway—didn’t you spend half that game on the bench?” Azzi looked back up to to her, a slight smirk on her face.

“WOAHHH—we do NOT have to bring that up” Paige responded with a laugh. Azzi laughed too. The mood felt lighter, like whatever thundercloud that was looming over her head had calmed down to something more light and fluffy.

“Paige! we’re stretching” Paige looked away from Azzi to find a teammate passing by, waving her down in a way that made it seem urgent. “like… now”

she turned back to Azzi.

“you heard her” Paige watched as she slid her headphones back up over her ears and tilted her head towards the door her teammate had just slipped through.

Paige turned to follow.

***

There was a buzz in the gym. Final game of the day. The teams from their pool had filed into the bleachers. Warmups were winding down. And she was locked in.

Every pass was crisp. Every dribble tight. Every shot felt like cash before it even left her fingertips.

Her body was loose. Her mind was clear.

She was ready to play. Ready to win.

A buzzer rang through the gym. Both teams huddled. Cheered. The bench took their seats and the starters made their way to center court.

She made her way to Azzi, trying her best to keep a straight face. Azzi did it effortlessly. She didn’t look at her, just at the ball as the ref blew his whistle and tossed it up between the two centers.

The ball was tipped back towards the two of them. Paige reached to snag it from the air, securing it above her head and scanning the court. Azzi immediately dropped back into position, hips low and arms outstretched. The court was quiet. Players in the stand holding their breath, waiting for who would strike first.

She dribbled towards Azzi, watching. She shifted back. Her eyes flickered to the play in the back, the pieces in their offense falling into place. Back to Azzi.

Her team could wait.

She drove straight at Azzi—just long enough to get her off balance—before crossing over and stepping back, watching as Azzi stumbled back for just a moment. Long enough to lift the ball and shoot.

The net snapped as the ball fell through the rim. She had drawn first blood—but Azzi didn’t falter.

Paige watched as she caught the ball at an inbound, surveying as she dribbled the ball up the court.

She didn’t act—not yet—just responded. Shadowed her movements. Blocked her path.

Azzi passed the ball to the guard on her right and moved to cut through the paint. Paige followed, eyes locked on her. She had nearly made it back in front of her when she hit a brick wall. A solid screen, one that caught Paige entirely off guard.

She watched as Azzi finished her cut to the three point line and received the ball back, releasing the ball in a shot that could only be described as textbook.

It found the bottom of the net with ease.

It went on like that for a while. Paige pushed. Azzi pushed back. and the crowd was loving it. Every bucket was met with cheers, phones were out following the action. The game was electric.

The buzzer sounded, marking the end of the first half.

35-34.

She had a feeling that the game wouldn’t be a decisive win. Nope, it would come down to the wire.

Azzi:

She hadn’t wanted to speak to Paige. Just wanted to enjoy the silence of the lobby. Get away from the noise of the courts. But Paige showed up anyway, in all of her annoying glory, and she let her.

She could’ve told her to go away, but some part of her knew she needed the boost. No matter how annoying Paige could be, she seemed to know how to get Azzi out of her head. Or at least help navigate her to the part of her brain that was dedicated to being pissed at someone other than herself. Still, seemed like Paige had a talent for learning her.

She hadn’t wanted to eat anything—not after a game she ended like that. But Paige seemed to know what Azzi needed, even if they had only known each other for a few days. That was clear to her when Paige slid her that granola bar wordlessley, like she had read that Azzi was too stubborn to let herself get one.

And thank god for that bar. She wasn't sure if she would’ve made it through the first quarter without it. The game didn’t feel like a 5 on 5. It felt like a 1 on 1. The kind that took place in a gym after hours. The kind she would leave with her jersey sticking to her ribs from the sweat. The kind where they’d try anything to get the ball through the hoop.

Except this matchup wasn’t in private. It was the main event. A spectacle that had gathered teams together, who now sat anxiously awaiting the next quarter.

She felt it too. The nerves. The expectation to keep fighting. She knew she couldn’t let herself slip. Not now.

The buzzer sounded, cutting through the lingering chatter of the athletes in the bleachers.

She stood, sucking in a deep breath, and took the court.

She received the ball on the inbound. Dropped it back to her teammate as she jogged up the court.

She looked up. Paige met her eyes. She actually wasn’t sure if they had left her once this game. Not when the ball was in her hands.

Speaking of:

The ball found its way back into her jar hands as she cut towards the hoop. She led with her shoulder, head down, bumping Paige off of her to create space as she willed herself to the basket. She scooped the ball towards the rim, trying her hardest to sell the contact and draw a foul.

She didn’t see it, but she heard it. The sound of Paige’s hand hitting the basketball, swatting it out of the air. It struck the court just behind the baseline. Her ball.

Paige met her gaze, nodding slowly. Her message was clear: I’m here. Azzi pushed by Paige to inbound the ball, bumping her shoulder on the way. Her own way of saying so am I.

She gripped the ball, knuckles white as she scanned the court for the open player. She sent a lofted pass to a player cutting away from the hoop. Azzi relocated, running off of the shoulder of their center, who had set a screen in anticipation for her cut to the corner. When she finally turned from her spot in the corner she saw Paige scrambling to recover from the screen—but she was too late. The ball found Azzi's hands and left just as quickly, arcing over Paige’s outstretched hand.

She turned before she could watch the ball fall through the net. She didn’t need to see it to know it was good. She just got back on defense. She needed a stop, something to make Paige slow down, maybe even look to her teammates. Something to make her doubt herself (although she wasn’t sure that was possible).

Paige brought the ball up the court yet again. Azzi watched as her eyes moved from player to player, weighing the option of passing to any of them. Then she watched as her eyes fixed on the rim. Azzi knew she wasn’t passing. Chances were that Paige would drive and pop for a mid range jumper.

Azzi settled in, trying to get as low as possible. She shadowed as Paige drove, hesitated, and just as she started to cross over Azzi poked at the ball. It rattled lose, bouncing towards Azzi’s net. She scrambled to gather the loose ball, sprinting towards her own net and extending to finish at the rim.

A whistle sliced through the noise of the crowd. Timeout orange.

Azzi made her way over to her bench. She didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until she finally had a chance to slow down. She sat, trying to catch her breath. Whatever her coach was saying was going way over her head.

A tap on her knee tugged her attention away from the rise and fall of her chest and back to her coach.

“Im pretty sure they’re pulling Paige out to start the next quarter, you’ll get your break when she comes out, okay?”

“M’kay” she choked out, not quite finding enough air to respond.

The quarter was winding down, and Paige’s team was threatening to break down whatever momentum Azzi had given her team with that steal. She was determined not to let her.

One more stop. That’s all she needed. One push and she was done—well not done, but she could finally breathe. Rest. Maybe even drink some water.

One more stop.

The refs blew the whistle, urging both teams to take to the court. Azzi took one last deep breath and pushed herself up off the bench, willing herself to be calm as she took the floor. The clock was winding down, shot clock turned off. Paige passed the ball in. Azzi’s eyes locked on to her as she ran down the court. She knew she was getting the ball back—or at least she was supposed to—and that wasn’t gonna happen. Not on her watch.

She was on her like white on rice. Mirroring every move, absorbing every bump, she wasn’t letting Paige take an inch of space from her. She felt Paige push away from her, the slight extension of her arm, buying just enough time for the ball to find her hands.

Azzi kept one arm extended, and one hand in Paige’s face. She shifted, blocking Paige's path to the basket. She could live with her passing it to a teammate, but she wouldn’t be caught dead in a Buecker’s buzzer beating highlight. Not tonight.

10 seconds on the clock.

Paige put the ball on the floor. Tried her best to maneuver around Azzi. But she could tell Paige was tired too.

She flipped the ball to her shooting guard and the buzzer neared zero. She didn’t even have a chance to get the shot off, the buzzer interrupting any hope that Paige’s team had to end on a make. Azzi high-fived her teammates as she made her way to the bench, plopping down and reaching for a water bottle.

She drank like she'd just hiked 30-miles through the Sahara, but she didn’t care.

It was 50-48. Close? Yes. But not because of Paige.

Now she could breathe. Calm herself down before the fourth quarter. Before it really mattered. She wiped a drip of water from the corner of her mouth with the neckline of her jersey before glancing over to the other bench.

Paige sat slumped over, elbows resting on her knee’s, a water bottle hanging loosely in one of her hands. She could see the rapid rise and fall of her back as she too struggled to catch her breath.

The buzzer rang out once again to mark the start of the fourth quarter. Azzi stayed put. So did Paige.

The game stayed close, bucket for bucket, steal for steal. It was truly anybody’s game.

Azzi’s breath grew steadier. Her limbs felt heavy, but she knew they had more left in them. Just enough to close out this game.

Her coaches voice carried from the front of the bench.

“You got a few minutes left in you? We need some offense” Azzi looked over to her coach and nodded, moving to the scorers table and taking a knee. She watched as Paige's coach’s eyes followed her to the table, before she tapped Paige on the shoulder and gestured for her to check in too.

Azzi kept her eyes forward, trying her hardest to avoid eye contact with Paige. She didn’t need to give her an excuse to talk. Not now, when she was so close to being able to shove this win in her stupid face.

“SUBS” a short buzzer interrupted Azzi’s thoughts as a ref waved in her and Paige.

3:14 left in the game. They were even at 58.

She inbounded the ball, received it back and moved up the floor, organizing their offense. She settled at the top of the key, keeping her dribble low and her eyes up. She was running clock. Keeping the ball in their possession as long as she could. Shot clock had wound down to 10 seconds. She started to drive to the rim, hesitated, drew a double and dropped the ball to an open teammate in the corner.

The net snapped as the ball shot through the hoop.

61-58.

The ball was inbounded as soon as it hit the floor. Paige received it, pushing pace and fighting her way to the rim. Azzi slid with her, but she couldn’t catch up. She reached out, trying her best to disrupt Paige’s shot however she could. A whistle blew as Paige scooped the ball towards the net. She tumbled to the floor, and the ball miraculously found a way to fall through the rim despite Azzi’s attempts to stop it.

Count it and the foul to tie the game. Wonderful. She’d never hear the end of this one.

She watched as Paige popped up and made her way to the free throw line. Watched as the ball bounced once before Paige spun it back into her palm and released it. It sank through the rim effortlessly.

1:58 left in the game.

Even at 61.

Azzi scrambled to inbound the ball, passing it to the other guard who was streaking up the court. They needed to slow down. Waste clock. Every second they didn’t use was an extra one for Paige to take advantage of. A second they could NOT afford.

Azzi jogged down and received the ball back off of a hand off. She stood, eyes up, ball at her hip. Reading. How her center would be in perfect position if she tracked left. The angle of the pass. If it needed to be high or low.

She saw the game before it happened, predicting exactly what she needed to do to get the pieces to fall into place.

She tracked left. The defense moved. Her center carved out her space at the block. She sent the ball high. She snatched it out of the air, finishing effortlessly at the rim—just as she calculated.

The clock was down to 0:57.

63-61.

Azzi waited for Paige at half court, eyes fixed on the ball as it bounced between the floor and her hands. That’s all she needed. One steal and she could put the game out of reach.

She waited. Mirrored Paige's movements, shuffling step for step, hunting for a chance to poke the ball loose.

She saw it. Just a second, where Paige picked her head up to scan the court. Azzi lunged forwards, arm outstretched and—

Miscalculated.

Paige crossed over, leaving Azzi behind her as she pulled up for a long two.

Tie game.

Clock down to 0:34

This was it.

She turned and ran back down the court, not bothering with the inbound. She just needed to get to her spot.

“Don't want to take it yourself?“ A voice crept up on Azzi, one that had become all too familiar in the past 5 hours. Paige.

She jogged past, turned, and backpedaled, eyes fixed on her own. “you scared or something?”

She wanted to snap back. of her? not for a second. But she kept her mouth shut.

She simply watched as the other guard brought the ball up the court, shot clock running down. She cut, hands up, asking for the ball.

It found her hands and she turned to scan the court one final time.

Clock down to 0:10.

A nearby forward was creeping up to set a screen. She started to creep towards the screen, eyes up like she was looking to pass. She picked up the pace as she maneuvered Paige into the screen, which she met—and slipped under—giving her just enough space to shoot.

It should’ve been a green light—something to exploit—but it wasn’t. She knew Paige wasn’t stupid. She wanted her to shoot. For some reason she was confident that Azzi would miss, and that was enough.

A half second hesitation. A release a moment too late.

Azzi could feel the shot was off before it ever left her hands. She didn’t even want to watch.

She lost them the game. She knew she had. All because of a stupid defensive lapse—one that should’ve sealed the game. A shot that she’s hit a million times thrown off by the best possible outcome on a screen.

The crowd cheered. For what? she wasn’t sure. She didn’t care.

Her teammates huddled at the rim, bouncing up and down around their center.

She looked at the score.

65-63.

She was dragged into the celebration by their other guard, who was running to the rim.

Someone must’ve grabbed the rebound and tucked it in at the buzzer. Azzi didn’t care.

Because she knew that even though her team had won the scrimmage, Paige had still beat her.

[syncoflove]

[🎬] 241002 | ATEEZ TIKTOK & INSTAGRAM REELS UPDATE

Emergency Alert🚨 Choose your favorite SEONGHWA!🗳

[hailsatanacab]

🚨🎉NEW CHAPTER ALERT🎉🚨

Close Enough to be Whole Again - Chapter 21

At long last, I have updated... it's a doozy! Prepare yourselves!!

Summary:

“If you ever find yourself in danger, go to Bruce Wayne. He will help you.”

His mother had loved him, in her own way. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have helped him escape. If she hadn’t, she would have dragged him back to the League of Assassins, to Grandfather. If she hadn’t, he’d be dead.

She loved him, but she loved the League more.

Jack and Maddie Fenton loved him too, they did, but they loved their work more.

They loved their work more.

--

After his parents react poorly to his reveal, Danny escapes to the only person he thinks can help him - Bruce Wayne. He doesn't know what to expect when he gets there, but it has to be better than where he is, surely? He certainly doesn't expect to be reunited with his long lost twin brother Damian. It's funny how things work out that way.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto's First Kiss Update | Chapter 8 Snippet

A lil update for my lovely readers as we officially enter the holiday season!

Chapter 8 of Shoto's First Kiss is almost ready, y'all! Appreciate the patience :) I'm trying to work through some tough dialogue scenes and make everything flow well.

At my latest estimate, this chapter will be at least 30 pages when I finally post!!!

I have off this week for the holidays so I will be working through editing and trying to get this posted as soon as possible (and as soon as I feel it's truly ready for the world!).

ALSO!! The smut scene is really hot - I think you'll all be pleased :) I'm going to post a snippet of it below the cut to get you excited for the next chapter. I think you'll be able to get a good idea of where the next chapter will take us smut-wise 😉

Thirsting for some Shoto smut right away? I posted this new one shot last week:

Frisky Movie Date | Shoto x Reader

This also exists:

Shoto Discovers He Has a Daddy Kink

And, as per usual, here's the chapters of Shoto's First Kiss that are available so far:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

Part 7: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7

Bonus! I'm posting a snippet from the next chapter to hold you all over until the next post.

🚨Spoiler Alert🚨 Contains drafted content from Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 8!!! If you want to wait for the full chapter to be released, don't read any further. This is a draft so obviously it's subject to change :)

“You like watching me bench press?” You say cheekily, recalling a moment a few months ago when you had made awkward eye contact with Shoto at the gym. At the time, you’d thought it was just a coincidence – your eyes had accidentally met while you were completing some reps on the bench and he was doing pull ups nearby. But now that he had divulged his attraction to your lifting…

“Yes.” He buries his face in your neck, radiating heat. “The look in your eyes when you bench. Fuck.”

“How hard are you right now, Shoto?” You groan, rolling your ass against him. He makes a noise in the back of his throat in answer to your question. “Yeah that’s what I thought. Unzip your pants – I want to give you a handy.” You start to pull away from him so you can turn around, but he holds you fast in his arms.

“No.” He says soundly, surprising you. You’re certain that most men aren’t quick to turn down a hand job. “I appreciate the offer, but there’s something else I want to do right now. If you’re up for it.”

“Oh yeah?” This whole situation is unexpected – hooking up in a closet during a secret party? Yeah, definitely not on your UA bucket list. You tilt your head so you can look at him more clearly. His eyes are stormy, his hair mussed up just so. He looks so devastatingly hot and needy, you practically cum on the spot.

“I’ve been wondering…” He says quietly, running a finger back and forth on your lower stomach, causing your pussy to quiver in your panties. “What would it feel like to touch you…more intimately?”

“More intimately?” You squeak, and you feel his fingers slide under the elastic waistband of your skirt, tracing gently across the delicate skin of your waist. You feel your pulse quicken as you realize what he’s getting at.

He kisses up your neck and you feel his breath in your ear – hot and wet. He traces his fingers across the waistband of your panties now, moving his fingertips in a slow, circular motion. You’re so wet you can barely stand it. It’s not a stretch for your brain and body to imagine how that motion would feel on your bare pussy.

“Ever since you gave me a hand job for the first time…well, I’ve been wanting to return the favor.” Shoto says softly, and your brain feels like its full of static.

Is he saying what you think he’s saying? He wants to finger you and get you off?!

----------------------------------

And that's all for now, folks! See you soon for the official chapter post!

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

[mae-lou-ron]

For Granted

Summary: Your beloved Gregor returns from a weeks-long mission for the clone underground, and after a long night filled with debriefings, he can’t wait to show you just how much he missed you while he was gone.

Pairing: Captain Gregor x f!reader

Warnings: 🚨 NSFW - SMUT AHEAD 🚨, 18+ MDNI, explicit sexual content and language, established relationship, mutual pining, cockwarming, unprotected PiV, edging, delayed orgasm, praise, soft!Dom Gregor, pleasure!dom Gregor?, oodles of fluff, Gregor can't keep his eyes (or hands) off you, color system safe words (only green used), aftercare, this is what I call a plot/smut/plot sandwich.

Word Count: 4,700

A/N: GOBBLE GOBBLE GREGOR GIRLIES. Happy to report I am posting this way earlier than I thought would be possible. (I finally did it @jetii, @captn-trex @lonewolflupe— again thank you for your constant inspiration and encouragement) This is the first smut I’ve ever posted and I guess decided to just go for it. I don’t know what to tell you, I just feel like Gregor would be such a soft and needy little pleasure dom. Okay, bone apple tea my fellow feral goblins. DO NOT PERCEIVE ME.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late—very late.

The away team shuttle had touched down hours ago, but before you could greet Gregor properly, Rex had swooped in and intercepted him before he even made it down the gangplank. Their mission to the ruins of Tipoca City had proven successful, and Rex wanted to know everything.

For nearly two weeks, they dove beneath the old cloning facility's wreckage, searching the depths for anything that survived the orbital bombardment—especially for anything that could help them better understand the inhibitor chips. As you observed him from across the holotable, you noted the exhaustion that marked your beloved's features. His bloodshot eyes had dark circles beneath them, and though he tried his best to stay alert and focused, the weariness was clearly setting in. Yet, despite his current state, Gregor's gaze kept finding its way back to you, his lips curving into a small smile whenever your eyes met.

You listened and updated the data banks while Rex thoroughly questioned Gregor and his team about their operation. When Rex was finally satisfied with what was recovered, the meeting adjourned. As you gathered your things, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Gregor, hoping this was finally the moment for your long-awaited reunion—but he remained deep in conversation with Rex, their heads bent together. You sighed inwardly but couldn't help glowing with admiration for him.

He was probably the most lighthearted of his brothers, but Gregor showed unwavering dedication to his work—particularly when it involved Rex. After all, Rex had orchestrated Gregor's rescue from the Empire by sending the Bad Batch to extract him, saving Gregor from the Empire's grim plans for clone troopers like himself.

Rex's relentless pursuit to understand and neutralize the inhibitor chips strengthened Gregor's dedication to the mission. For Gregor, helping Rex wasn't just about loyalty—it was about preventing other clones from enduring the same fate. This devotion extended to everyone Gregor held dear, including you. He had become not only your lover but your best friend and closest ally in the growing clone rebellion. You had become one of the few anchors in each other’s lives that had been plagued with uncertainty.

From your first meeting, you were irresistibly drawn to him—and he made no effort to hide his magnetic attraction to you. Even now, his keen eyes would seek you out first whenever he entered a room. True to form, Gregor's gaze shifted to you over Rex's shoulder again, silently expressing his longing to be near you after so many days apart. You caught his eye and flashed a playful smirk, pressing a fingertip to your lips before extending it toward him. He would always wink in return. Though your relationship was no longer a secret, you both treasured this little ritual—a wordless exchange of adoration between the two of you.

Back in your quarters, you changed into your sleep clothes and settled into bed. Propped against pillows with your data pad in hand, you intended to review the new data decryptions while waiting for Gregor's return, hoping he might have more enticing ways to keep you awake. But the warmth of your bed and the quiet hum of recycled air lulled you to sleep with surprising swiftness. Your eyes grew heavy, thoughts of him blurred behind your lids until you drifted off.

A short while later, you stirred from a light sleep when you felt the bed dip. With gentle hands, Gregor retrieved your fallen data pad and slid under the covers behind you. His strong arms enveloped you, drawing you against his chest.

"Stars, I've missed you, my darling," Gregor sighed into the space between you. Your eyes fluttered open as his lips pressed into the back of your shoulder, sending a thrill down your spine.

The familiar spicy scent of him filled your nose—he must have hit the fresher before coming to bed. You hummed contentedly and turned within his arms to face him, your lips curling into a sleepy smile. "Missed you too," you murmured.

Gregor's tired eyes were filled with warmth and adoration in the dim light. His hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. "Sorry I'm late..."

"S'okay," you leaned into his touch. "You're here now, and at least I know you're not just another dream," you said into his chest as you yawned.

Gregor's heart thrummed at your words. The thought of you dreaming about him stoked the ever-present desire he seemed to hold for you. "How's the burn?" he asked instead, softly moving his hand down, fingertips skimming over the fresh scars on your hip.

"All healed now. Rex was right, of course," you grumbled. The former captain had benched you from field work due to the blaster fire that grazed you on your last mission. Though you'd insisted it was healed enough, Rex wouldn't budge. You knew he was right, but being sidelined grated your nerves— especially since it was your intel they were operating on.

"You really scared me for a minute there, you know," Gregor whispered, his voice lilted with emotion as his fingers traced the newly healed scar.

You kissed the tip of his nose and gave him a knowing smile. "You should know better than anyone, love. It takes more than that to keep someone down," you murmured, covering his hand with your fingertips. A pitchy chuckle escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, recognizing the echo of his own resilient spirit in your words. But his face fell incrementally as he found his next words.

"I still wish you could have been there, on Kamino," he confessed, his voice solemn. He didn’t have to say anything, but you knew how strange returning to Kamino was going to be for him. He had his brothers with him, but you’d hoped to be there for him too.

"You just wanted a chance to see me in my swimming gear," you quipped instead.

Gregor's eyes sparkled as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth with a quiet rumble. "Can you blame me? Thinking of you in any state of undress was all I had to keep me sane out there," his words and lips danced against your cheek.

You squirmed in his embrace as his hand trailed up and down your body, fingertips once again sweeping over the swell of your hip. "But I always love seeing my cyare like this…" he added, his warm hand giving you a playful squeeze, referring to the teeny tiny shorts you often wore around your shared quarters, just for him.

“Oh? And why is that?” You said with a raised eyebrow, feigning ignorance at how his eyes would habitually follow you around whenever you wore them. Not to mention the mischief he would promise when he saw you wearing any of his clothing, and tonight you had grabbed one of his shirts to sleep in.

“Because it’s what you’re comfortable in,” he sighed contentedly as his fingers slipped under the hem, grazing the soft skin at the small of your back.

Being under his focus with such reverence made your heart pound in your ears, his magnetic touch constantly drawing you in. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw. "Will you just kiss me, already?" you whispered, forgetting your teasing.

Gregor hummed as his lips met yours, sweet and gentle, his hands rediscovering every curve and contour. You melted into his radiating warmth, the steady rhythm of his heart. When you nibbled his bottom lip, it earned you a deep moan and a roll of his body against yours. Your fingers wove through his damp hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, his tongue moving softly against yours.

Your lips danced together in a sensual rhythm, exploring and tasting with unhurried devotion as his fingers threaded through your hair, cradling the back of your head. Each sweep of his tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine, the kiss deepening with an intensity that made your toes curl and your heart race. Through every tender touch, he conveyed how deeply he'd missed you, and a familiar heat had bloomed between you fueled by days of delayed desire. The warmth of it coursed through your veins, spurring you on.

Eager to feel his skin against yours, you tugged off your shirt and pushed at his. Gregor chuckled softly and obliged, pulling off his shirt with deliberate slowness before tossing it aside. Under your fingertips, his body felt electric as you traced the familiar scars adorning his soft, golden skin. A shiver ran through him at your touch, and he groaned when your lips found his shoulder.

"Darling, I need you…" he purred, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts. His voice dropped lower, thick with desire. He paused, eyes intense and yearning as they locked with yours. "I've thought of you every night. Your kiss, your smile, the sounds you make for me." His fingers gripped your hips possessively, sure to leave marks. "Tell me, meshla," he breathed. "Did you think of me too?"

You let out a soft whine, your head falling against his chest as a breathy "Yes," escaped your swollen lips.

"Tell me..." he implored, his body rolling into yours once more. "Did I hear you say you dreamt of me?"

"Of course I did," you confessed softly, leaning close. Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear as intimate desires and details of your self-indulgent dreams tumbled from your lips. Gregor shivered, your warm breath tickling his skin. His fingers flexed as he strained to catch every hushed syllable. These whispered words were for him alone.

His chest rumbled with a deep, guttural sound. "Cyare," he whispered, the word dripping with honey.

You lifted your hips as he slid your shorts down your legs. Once free, he swooped in to kiss you again, this time with more fervor as his hands roamed your newly exposed skin. He swallowed the soft gasp that escaped your lips when his fingers dipped between your legs, growling appreciatively at how ready you were for him.

You whined at his touch, your fingertips curling around the base of his neck. Gregor sighed, his breath hot against your shoulder as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. You heard him chuckling quietly as his fingers teased your sensitive flesh. "…and I’ve barely touched you yet,” he teased.

You huffed in response and started pushing his shorts over his hips, firmly grasping a handful of his taught backside in the process causing him to hoot and giggle softly. "I told you what I’ve been thinking about… come here…" you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. Once free of his own clothing, you hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him to you. Gregor hissed at the contact, his hips instinctively rocking against yours. You felt the head of his length glide along your entrance and up to your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

Gregor let out a deep hum, gathering his self control. "I can't say no to you," he grunted, slowly sliding his length back up and down a few times before notching at your entrance. His lips met your forehead as he eased into you. You bit your lip as your body welcomed him, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden fullness. Despite the delicious sting of him at first, you craved him—eager for more, for all of him. But Gregor picked up on your body’s signal and paused. His head came back to regard you, eyes filled with concern and love.

"Cyar'ika," he whispered tenderly. His thumb traced your cheek and trailed down to your lips. You smirked, drawing the digit into your mouth with a soft moan, swirling your tongue around it. Gregor's eyes locked onto yours, awestruck at the sensation. "That's it…good girl," he purred, the wolfish smile that followed his praise sent a shiver down your spine. He withdrew his thumb from your mouth with a quiet pop, and brought it between your bodies, using the wetness to circle your clit.

Your body quivered, soft moans and whimpers escaping your lips as he continued his feather light touches, sending more of that delicious heat coursing through you. Your walls fluttered with pleasure, silently urging him to fully sheath himself within you. As his hips finally met yours, you both exhaled deeply, savoring the intense connection of being completely joined together.

"Let’s stay like this for a little while, hm?," he murmured against your hairline between soft kisses. "I just want you close," he breathed, his hand trailing tenderly along your spine.

You hummed in confirmation, melting into his affection. "I love you," you sighed, fingers combing through his hair. Your bodies fit together perfectly, hearts beating as one, breaths mingling in gentle pants. Being with Gregor, it never felt like enough—you both craved an impossible closeness. These tender moments were precious, when he held you like this, driven by his pure need to feel you around him, to eliminate any space between you.

"And I love you." Gregor's kiss was so tender it made your head swim. His lips traced reverently across your skin, each caress a silent vow, his heart full at how perfectly you melded together. When the kisses and touches naturally grew more heated, you felt him stir within you as your bodies instinctively began to move. With gentle purpose, Gregor rolled you, pressing your back into the mattress and caging you in with his large frame. His lips found that spot on your neck as he began a slow, intense rhythm that drew a litany of soft moans and whimpers from you. Your nails trailed down Gregor's back as he pressed against that sweet spot deep inside you. He dragged his length almost completely out before thrusting back in, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Stars… cyar’ika, you…" he panted, his movements becoming more deliberate. You wrapped your legs around him fully, urging him deeper, whimpering in is ear to do it again. The tension between you reached its peak all too quickly, weeks of anticipation setting your every nerve ending on fire. Gregor murmured sweet praises against your skin, intent on bringing you there together. You teetered on the edge, your body trembling with each slow thrust. "Gregor," you breathed in a desperate plea. "I'm..."

“I know,” he grunted. “I’ve got you…” He gentled his movements to a pace he knew would send you over. He felt your entire body tense, arching into him as your climax struck you with a sudden intensity. A shuddering moan escaped you as your hand in his hair tightened, tugging at the strands. He couldn't hold back any longer—the way your walls fluttered around him, squeezing him so tightly, your grip in his hair, the sounds you were making—it was all too much, and he gladly fell over the edge with you.

His hips jerked as he moaned your name, pressing flush against yours as he found his release inside you. You held him close while you both trembled and panted through waves of pleasure. His hips rolled gently against yours through the aftershocks. As the hazy bliss settled over you both, Gregor began dotting your face and neck with tender kisses.

“Gregor…” you protested lazily, lips curling in a fond smile. He always melted into his softest self in the afterglow.

He chuckled quietly, nuzzling your neck. "What? You know I can’t ever get enough of you…" His lips brushed against your skin, making you tremble slightly. You were grinning ear to ear now, despite your half-hearted protest.

“That makes two of us,” you said huskily, floating down from your high.

You lay tangled together in peaceful silence, your breathing and heartbeats gradually returning to normal. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours created a soothing rhythm that made you feel completely at ease. A while later, when your combined arousal began to slip down your thigh, Gregor shifted, preparing to retrieve something to clean you both up.

“Don't you dare," you warned teasingly, tightening your entire body around him, making his breath hitch.

“Cyar’ika…” he said in a low, playful voice, twitching inside you. “Careful now…”

You smirked, loving the way his voice dropped an octave. "Or what?" you challenged, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

Gregor chuckled, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Oh, my darling," he chuckled lightly, his hand sliding down your body and gripping your ass, making you burst into giggles, "You love playing with fire, don’t you,"

"Mmm, I do when it encourages you to ravish me all night, love," you said with a dramatic flair, unable to hide the mirth from your voice, reminding you of the intimacy you’ve built with Gregor. It was fiery and magnetic, but always fun. You loved to push each other’s buttons to see how far you could go. After all, you cherished these quiet moments together when there was no need to rush.

Gregor groaned at your words, his grip on you intensifying. "Oh, you're in for it now," he rasped as he swiftly rolled onto his back, pulling you over with him to straddle his hips. He sat upright and curled his hand around the base of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss. The sound that escaped you at this new angle was absolutely sinful, making him twitch inside you once again. He immediately began a gentle pace, guiding your hips into his shallow thrusts. You gripped his shoulders tightly, seeking an anchor amid the electricity firing deep within you. Your oversensitive bundle of nerves dragged against the base of his length, making you grind down on him more desperately.

Sensing your growing urgency, Gregor gently slowed your movements. His hands caressed your sides soothingly as he looked up at you with adoration. "Shhh cyar'ika, look at me…" he murmured, his voice low and tender. Your eyes fluttered open to gaze into his, dark and warm and focused on you. "I know, it feels so good." His voice strained, thumbs traced circles on your hips as he guided you back into that slower, more deliberate rhythm Gregor loved to torture you with. You whimpered at the change of pace, but soon found yourself melting into the languid, sensual motion. Gregor's eyes never left your face, enjoying watching you give in. "That's it, just feel," he whispered. "There’s no rush. I’ve got you…"

Gregor's movements periodically slowed to a halt, prolonging the intense pleasure building between you. Each time, he held you close, guiding you both toward that long-awaited peak. His arm snaked beneath you, holding you to him with effortless strength, preventing you from taking him completely. He knew exactly how much to give, bringing you to the edge over and over. He savored the sounds you made during the slow, frustrating dance, careful not to overstimulate as he kept you balanced on the edge of a knife.

Your body trembled, every nerve ending alive and hypersensitive, your breaths came in short, desperate moans. You clung to him, nails digging into his back and his scalp as you fought against the overwhelming urge to let go, somewhere between savoring every exquisite moment of him inside you and every cell in your body screaming for release. Gregor felt your body go rigid and quiver, he glanced down noticing how tightly your toes were curled, then up to your eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

"Cyar'ika, what's your color?" he managed to say through the haze. He himself was hanging by a thread.

"Green," you groaned gently. "Please, I need..."

Gregor's eyes snapped open at your words, his grip on you stuttering. "Tell me what you need," he nearly growled. "I need to hear you say it, cyar'ika."

“Please...” you breathed. “I need to come."

With a low groan of approval, Gregor knew he’d pushed you to a new limit, and captured your lips in a soft kiss, slowly lowering you down fully onto his length once more. "Then come for me, my love, let go…" he murmured against your lips as he loosened his hold on you incrementally, encouraging you to writhe against him at your own pace. He swallowed the moans that escaped your throat as you did so, your fingers tangling in his hair again as you finally let yourself go.

He held you to him as your body shook, waves of ecstasy sweeping through you, your inner walls pulsing wildly around Gregor's length. He buried his face in your shoulder, his own climax following yours as he thrust himself deep inside with a low, guttural sound. You clung to each other, riding out the lingering tremors, your core gradually relaxing its grip on him. Hearts raced and chests heaved as you both savored the moment. With one more gentle rock of his hips, he pulled you down, creating a delicious pressure that sent one final, intense ripple of pleasure coursing through you, reducing whatever composure you had left and turning you into a whimpering mess.

“Thats it,” he soothed as you collapsed against him, head lolling forward as he secured you against his broad chest. You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as your breathing slowly steadied. Gregor's fingers continued their gentle caress along your skin, calming your tense muscles and fluttering heart.

“You did so well,” he praised. “We haven’t gone that long before,” he grinned at you, giggling softly, a sheen of sweat on his skin.

You chuckled softly, feeling an ache in your hips and knees. "Mmm, I think we both needed that," you murmured, wincing slightly as you shifted your legs around his frame.

“Here, I’ve got you,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he helped you shift positions, knowing your joints sometimes didn’t love it as much as you did.

His strong arms cradled you as he maneuvered you off him, finally slipping out and eliciting a soft sigh from you. He bit his lip, barely suppressing a groan as he glanced at the evidence of your passion. Once you were settled, he quickly jumped out of bed and disappeared into the fresher, returning moments later with a warm cloth.

His fingertips trailed up the outside of your knee, reminding you he was still there. You smiled and opened up for him to gently clean you up. His touch was tender as he took care of both of you. Once finished, he tossed the towel aside and crawled back onto the bed and got to work on massaging the soreness from your legs.

You sighed contentedly as Gregor's skilled hands worked out the tension in your joints. "You're too good to me," you murmured sleepily. He responded with a soft chuckle, his touch gentle yet firm as he eased away any lingering discomfort. “Love, I know you’re exhausted, come here…”

He chuckled and planted tender kisses on each knee before settling beside you, drawing you close against his chest. You nestled into his warmth, savoring the lazy patterns he traced on your back with his fingertips.

You tilted your head up to press a gentle kiss beneath his chin, savoring the closeness. “I’m so happy you’re home…”

Gregor sighed contentedly. “Me too.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should bring up his time on Kamino. The topic always felt delicate, and you didn't want to stir up difficult memories. But his peaceful expression gave you courage.

“How was it being back there?" you asked softly.

“Well, the first few days were…strange, but not in the way I thought they would be,” he confessed quietly.

“How so?” You pressed a chaste kiss to the side of his neck, absentmindedly inhaling his scent.

“Some clones considered Kamino their home, but I’ve never really felt more at home than I do here. With the underground. With you.” His voice stuttered on the last few words.

You felt your heart swell, and you pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Good, because I feel the same way…”

Gregor's arm tightened around you, and you felt him release another contented sigh against your hair. In this moment, everything felt exactly as it should be - no missions, no war, just the two of you finding solace in each other's arms. You held one another close, happy to be back in one another’s orbit.

"Darling..." Gregor's voice took on a somber tone as he tightened his arms around you. "I received new orders from Rex tonight." He paused as you tilted your head back to look at him, his expression serious. You felt your body tense, preparing for the worst. "And, well, it’s not just that," he continued, his lips curving into a frown.

“What is it?” your hand brushed his disheveled hair out of his eyes, your heart clenching at the thought of him being gone again so soon, without you. Rex had yet to clear you for your injury, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of being left behind on base again for another mission.

Gregor took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. "I know it's short notice, but... I told Rex you’d have no problem shipping out by midday tomorrow..." He gazed at you intently, his trademark mischievous smirk betraying his attempt at a somber expression. He was a terrible liar.

Your eyebrows shot up at the realization.

Now his face was in a full grin. "Mhm...you’re coming with." He quipped. “Though I’m sure Rex wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay behi—”

“No!” you trilled, propping yourself up onto your elbow. “I’m ready,” you insisted.

“You don’t even know what the mission is yet, love,” he chuckled, it was hard to resist mirroring your excitement.

“I don’t care,” you sighed. “I’ve been cooped up…it’s boring when everyone is gone,” you groaned.

“Don’t you mean it’s boring when I’m gone?” Gregor teased.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your smile. "Maybe," you admitted, snuggling back into him. "But don't let it go to your head." Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest as you soaked up the warmth of his presence, grateful to soon be back to doing what you do best.

Gregor laughed softly, his chest rumbling beneath your fingertips. "Have we met?," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. As you lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, a sleepy silence settled over you both. The anticipation of being briefed for tomorrow's mission hummed just beneath the surface, but for now, you were content to simply exist in this moment.

“You’re a terrible liar, by the way…” you said as you curled into him. He just chuckled softly as you let your eyes close, feeling the tendrils of sleep start to curl around you.

Soon, the familiar weight of Gregor's body and gentle rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a peaceful state. His fingers continued their soothing caress along your back, growing slower and more languid as sleep began to claim him too. The last thing you remembered before surrendering was the gentle press of Gregor's lips against your forehead and his whispered "Ner cyare..." You mumbled a sleepy response, already half-lost to dreams of tomorrow's adventures.

[buffynha]

Muse

By crushed2

Brittany Pierce left everything behind in Ohio in hopes of finding a new beginning in New York City, and by everything she meant her trust in people and her passion for performing. A chance encounter with a beautiful model may just change all of that.

Rated: Fiction M

Genre: Romance/Drama

Pairing: Santana L., Brittany P.

Status: ongoing

Chapters: 26

Words: 432,438

Published: Apr 8, 2022

Updated: Oct 1, 2024

[vespidclan]

Alright time to get into it…

THEYYYY FOUUUUUUND ITTTTTT 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

My friends, it seems sign has been solved. No one has explicitly told me that they found it, but my google doc seems to be alerting all these random people invading my one doc and yep! It seems they reached the end of the puzzle… congrats!

Introducing the first part of the big lore drop… Where The Thorns Grow. An ongoing comic that gets updated ever so often, so look out for new updates :)

This comic focuses on the events after Moththorn’s whole life of betrayal, distrust, and injustice from the cats around her. Through untold events, half the clan is killed and taken to Starclan… but by some sort of miracle, or maybe by a fortunate chance, she ends up elsewhere.

(Okay I might have to explain this one but it’s funny: you know how when you start a hard challenge you kill the generated cats and keep the ones you want??? Yeah it’s like that xd)

We also meet the game before it became subject into 404’s control so there’s also that. The game is essentially the clangen system; it’s what holds everything together in perfect unity, everything functions as intended! Come see how that fell into shambles or whatever

[shodandbg]

TD x Kingdom Hearts: MAJOR update!

First post with spoilers: New character edits, form changes, WIPs of KH-style drawings, and… SPOILER ALERT: The Final 3 of this story

Back with another major update, everyone! And what perfect timing since today the KH series turns 23 years old! For this update, I thought I’d share with you all some new things I’ve done or I’m doing for this crossover.

Before we begin, this is the first time ever that I should let you all know that this post contains spoilers for this story. While it has not been entirely written yet, it contains elements from the second half of it all the way to the ending, that’s why the post is marked as spoilers. I’ll try to hide them in the description too.

With that being said, let’s begin:

First up, I’m adding four more Keyblade Wielders to Sora’s party options! Only two of them have been completed so far: Alejandro and Duncan. Obviously these two villains at first will not like Sora one bit, especially Alejandro, but they’ll warm up to him eventually to the point where they join his party after obtaining their Keyblades.

- Alejandro’s Keyblade: Toro’s Fury (based on one of the Foretellers’ Keyblades, specifically Aced’s. His outfit is based on a combination between Terra and KH3 Riku)

- Duncan’s Keyblade: Delinquent’s Passion (Base being his lighter from TDI, and his outfit is inspired by Young Xehanort from Union X)

The last two Wielders in line for this story are officially Leshawna and Brick. Expect them soon.😊

THREE KH style drawings of the characters are in progress: DJ, Geoff and Dawn!!! I couldn’t put the WIPs of them in this post because Tumblr didn’t let me :/

Now, time for spoilers:

🚨SPOILERS AHEAD🚨

The final 3 for this story are Sora, Bridgette, and Mike. Sora and Mike are obvious choices when you remember that one is the MC of KH and the other plays a major role in the original version of AS but if you’re wondering why I chose Bridgette for the F3, it’s not because she’s one of my favorite characters, but I honestly think she has been done super dirty in TD post-Island. I mean, getting the first boot along with Geoff in TDA and then getting her tongue stuck to a pole in WT are not ideal for her. In this story, she’ll stand out a lot more and be one of Sora’s most courageous and strongest Keyblade pupils, so much so that people like Alejandro, Heather and Duncan no longer underestimate her (Alejandro even says that he regrets calling her expendable in World Tour) and Geoff couldn’t be prouder of her🥹 Sora and her develop an amazing friendship too! And more so, she’s named one of the main leaders of the rest of the TD wielders after her and Geoff deal with Blaineley on the Aftermath. From pole kisser to brave Keyblade leader, a true All-Star.

Therefore, to signify their F3 status, I’ve given each of them an iconic KH Crown based on their final placements: Sora wins so he gets gold (Proof of Victory), Mike is the runner-up so he gets silver (Proof of Bravery), and Bridge is third so she gets copper (Proof of Resilience). Each of the crowns is given to them by their Keyblades as a reward for their performance in the game, Proofs of effort if you will.

Finally, I’m introducing Form Changes! To signify their connection to Sora’s Heart and as an additional perk of their placements, Mike and Bridgette are given a special edition of their Keyblades’ keychains, giving them a look akin to KH3’s Ultima Weapon (this will only be triggered if Sora has said Keyblade crafted in his equipment). This Keychain gives them access to their own versions of the Ultimate Form! Their outfits get similar colors to that of Sora’s own Ultimate Form and Bridgette even gains a hoodie that combines aspects of her original surfer hoodie with Sora’s KH3 hoodie! Their Ultimate Form weapons are not ready yet though, but I wanted to at least show you the designs of their outfits and how their Keyblades look before accessing them. These two aren’t the only ones to get form changes though. In contrast to them, two TD Wielders acquire a form based on the remaining darkness in their hearts. Courtney’s anger and frustration towards her past while fighting gives way for her to enter her Rage Form (First seen in KH3), where no light comes out of her and with each charge, her power grows but her heart grows bitter. Heather, on the other hand, has another perk due to her remaining darkness besides the coat around her. Part of her heart still desires power and while she fights, sometimes that darkness and desire overwhelms her and she enters her Anti Form (first seen in KH2) where she uses no Keyblade and acts like a Shadow Heartless.

🚨END OF SPOILERS🚨

And… that wraps up this update! Sorry for making you read all the way here and for the surprise spoiler alert, but the thing is… I began writing this story! Yeah, besides the drawings and edits, I’m putting the story into written words so that it can complement the visual part! It’s not due for publishing anytime soon, but stay tuned!

Again, as always, feedback is always appreciated!

May your Heart be your Guiding Key🗝️❤️

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

⚕️GASS (Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System)

Sick Gallifreyan just crossed your path? Here's how to assess their condition using the Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System. Just remember, 'Gallifreyan life's a GASS'.

BIGGER - Google Drive: PDF / Image JPG / Image PNG

This guide is for use on Gallifreyans and Time Lords only. Always seek your human advice from human health providers.

✨ What is GASS?

The Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System (GASS) is a tool designed to rapidly evaluate a Gallifreyan's condition. By monitoring vital signs and unique Gallifreyan indicators, it prioritises emergency responses while accounting for their distinct physiology, such as dual hearts and regenerative abilities.

Just remember, Gallifreyan life's a GASS.

📈 What's New in GASS?

This updated version of GASS includes critical refinements for more precise assessments. New categories have been added, such as Heart Rate Differential (HRD) to flag discrepancies between the two hearts and T = Responds to Telepathy in the level of consciousness scale. Adjustments to thresholds for vital signs and regenerative glow visibility also improve detection of emergencies like fibrillation or post-regenerative trauma.

📝 How to Use GASS

1️⃣Initial Observations

Ensure the environment is safe (e.g., no stray Daleks).

Observe for immediate signs of distress: skin colour, breathing effort, or lack of responsiveness.

2️⃣Evaluate Vital Signs and Assign Scores

Refer to the GASS table to assess each category:

🌬️ Respiration Rate: Count breaths per minute. Adjust for respiratory bypass if present.

🫧 Supplemental Oxygen: Note if oxygen support is in use.

🌡️ Temperature: Measure orally.

💓 Systolic BP: Record using a normal sphygmomanometer.

💖 Hearts Rate (Combined): Count the total bpm across both hearts.

🔄 Hearts Rhythm: Sequential beats (thud-thud, thud-thud) are normal; synchronous beats (thud-thud together) indicate fibrillation.

⚖️ Heart Rate Differential (HRD): Calculate the bpm difference between hearts; large discrepancies suggest possible singular heart failure.

🧠 Level of Consciousness (AVPTU): A = Alert, V = Responds to verbal stimuli, P = Responds to pain, T = Responds to telepathy, U = Unresponsive

✨ Regenerative Glow: Check for visible energy on the skin.

3️⃣Check for Healing Coma

If 8+ healing coma criteria are met:

Cease active interventions.

Monitor closely for changes.

Avoid premature waking to prevent neurological damage.

4️⃣Calculate Total GASS Score

Add up the scores from all categories:

0: No concerning changes. Continue routine monitoring.

1–4: Mild to moderate changes. Perform an ABCDE assessment and increase monitoring.

5–8 or 3 in single score: Severe changes. Perform ABCDE, escalate care, and consider sepsis.

≥9 or Glow = 3: Extreme changes. Initiate emergency intervention, constant monitoring, and prepare for sepsis protocols.

5️⃣Reassess After Interventions

Following each intervention, reassess the GASS score to adapt care and ensure stability.

🚨 When to Escalate

Critical signs: Synchronous heartbeats, extreme HRD, or GASS score ≥9.

Sepsis or Specific Emergencies: Use respective protocols for management.

📌 Key Points to Remember

Combine GASS results with clinical judgement.

Healing comas are protective states—let them run their course.

Escalate care if in doubt.

Medical Guides

These are all practical guides to assessing and treating a Gallifreyan in an emergency.

⚕️💕Gallifreyan CPR

⚕️👽Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System (GASS)

⚕️👽ABCDE Assessment

⚕️⚠️Sepsis Emergency Response (SER)

⚕️⚠️Severe Trauma Protocol

⚕️🌡️Gallifreyan Thermoregulation and Emergency Response

⚕️🔮Psionic Emergency Pathways

⚕️✨Post-Regeneration Management

⚕️💤Gallifreyan Healing Coma Management

⚕️🩸Interpreting Gallifreyan Bloodwork

⚕️👶Gallifreyan Paediatric Emergencies

⚕️🧠Managing Gallifreyan Neurological Trauma

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features:⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[paradoxicalpaldeann]

🚨EDGE OF SLEEP GANG MAJOR ALERT - ITS ON PRIME!🚨

https://www.amazon.com/The-Edge-of-Sleep/dp/B0DH8XJFDW

HERE GO GO GO ^^^^^

haven’t seen anyone else make a post about this yet. according to reddit comments people are supposedly also watching it already, but this seems to be a US specific thing and a few people only have said this so take it with a grain of salt. if that’s actually happening lmk and i’ll update this post accordingly

[scam-alerts]

🚨Scammer Alert🚨

(mild blood warning) - updated 1/16/25

Current accounts: furryfoxpost gloriouswolfbeliever

Recently banned: scentedtacomaker + generouscandycreator + nuttykittenglitter + jovialnightcat weepingtrashheart

Also known as: sostudentbarbarian / alfayothesoftwareaudit / purplecatshark / shadypersonnut / craftyangelcollective

Reason(s) this a scam:

They are all running the exact scam on multiple blogs.

Images/story is stolen from another social media.

Multiple different PayPal.me names are being used. (including names used on/by other scam accounts)

They will say they are using gofundme but it goes to PayPal.

Note: In the second set of screenshots the image on the left is the previous/original post that was used on the account @purplecatshark. It has since been changed to the one on the right.

Paypal names these accounts were/are using:

eunice-2-magwerl - Magwerl Onyango myavenuesheep - eUnice'margwel' alfayothesoftwareaudit - Alfred Onyango perfectpiratewonderland - Jamillah Vilinga* (same post as archived here: https://archive.ph/5Jdwt) pinkkidcreator - Eunice Odira purplecatshark - Eunice Eqira sostudentbarbarian - eUnice'margwel' shadypersonnut - Eunice Eqira craftyangelcollective - eUnice'margwel' scentedtacomaker - eUnice'margwel' generouscandycreator - Eunice Eqira generouscandycreator - Virginia Adungo furryfoxpost - eUnice'margwel' - 1/14/25 gloriouswolfbeliever - eUnice'margwel' 1/16/25 gloriouswolfbeliever - Enya 'cheekios" 1/31/25

*The name Jamillah Vilinga is being used by the scam accounts: @foggyruinspost (banned) + @foggyruinsblog. (banned)

I talk more about that scam in this post here.

Update 12/11/24 - Connection v2

While checking up on the scam list I found that one of the accounts, sweatymoontimemachine, now redirects to sostudentbarbarian.

(meaning they repurposed one scam blog to run a different scam)

This account was previously part of a group of scam accounts running the 'my nose freezes' scam under the usernames @sublimedestinybird (now blank) > @sweatymoontimemachine > @magicalhottubvoid. (all banned)

You can read a post about them here that another user made.

Update 12/22/24 - Connection v3

The name Virginia Adungo was previously used by the account clevervoidduck to run a different type of insulin scam which can be seen here: https://archive.is/Ls2mX

Update 1/5/25 - WARNING

I was made aware last night by @goodnightbinx that this scammer is sending people who send them donations additional requests for money via paypal once they have your paypal e-mail/name.

@goodnightbinx was kind enough to provide me a screenshot:

If you are unfamiliar with PayPal, you may think the scammer is sending you money to thank you.

But no, they are asking you for MORE money.

Disgusting.

-----

Here's a post on some tips and tricks on spotting scams.

A guide on how to spot a insulin scam.

Other helpful guides on spotting scams. (by @kyra45)

Current list of documented scammers: Part 3

Archived/reference list of scammers Part 1 and Part 2

Disclaimer: This post is only meant to serve as documentation and reference material so that others know: why this person is a scammer, and to provide more information about the scam they are running. I do not, in any way, endorse harassment or mass reporting these users. Only report posts related to asks, comments, or messages if you GET them or ones like them. Thank you.