#I KNOW THESE ARE LATE I'M SORRY

[zenonaa]

t4t polaris/fukawa with prompt 21? 🖤🖤

Over your shoulder

Touko has made enough braids in her life that she barely needs to think as her fingers weave Polaris’s golden hair. Though it hangs barely past Polaris’s shoulders when loose, there’s enough for Touko to comfortably work with. Short hair can be braided, but the range of styles is much more limited. It wasn’t until Touko moved out of her family home that she could start growing her own hair out. That she could experiment and find a style that suited her. 

Now, years later, she is helping Polaris do the same. Polaris sits on the edge of Touko’s mattress, back straight and chin up. Touko wishes she could see her face, but being near her is enough. And she knows exactly what she looks like anyway. As her fingers work, her mind conjures an image of Polaris. She imagines Polaris is staring forward with icy blue eyes, lips pursed in a frown. Whatever expression she is wearing, Polaris is beautiful. It is impossible for Polaris not to be beautiful.

Gather, cross, tuck and pull.

Neither have spoken since Polaris settled herself in front of Touko, but the silence doesn’t feel awkward. It never does with Polaris. Some people, like Komaru, feel the need to try to fill silences with conversation. But Polaris is fine with silence, and so is Touko. Her thighs press into Polaris’s sides. Admittedly, Touko would rather be doing something else with Polaris on her bed. Doesn’t matter if the hotel’s walls aren’t soundproof like at Hope’s Peak. Or if Makoto and Aoi are in the neighbouring rooms.

However, earlier that day in the 14th Branch’s archive room, Polaris requested to come over so Touko could braid her hair. And whatever Polaris asks of her, Touko will always oblige. Polaris could ask her to lick off sand between her toes and Touko would drop to her knees on the spot. But Polaris never asks that sort of thing from her.

The aroma of honey and peony mists Polaris’s hair. Touko breathes in and bites her lip. Her face burns. God, she wants to smother herself in Polaris’s hair so badly.

“Must you loudly pant in my ear?” comes Polaris’s voice.

“S-Sorry!” Touko jerks her head back and slaps both hands across her mouth. “I’ll... I’ll stop breathing for you...!”

“Don’t be silly.” Polaris continues to face forward. “You need to breathe.”

A grin breaks across Touko’s face as she lowers her hands. “T-Thank you, Polaris-sama...”

In their early days at Hope’s Peak, Polaris would have demanded Touko never inhale air ever again. Or she would have sent Touko to stand outside on the opposite side of campus, even if it was raining. And Touko would have been content, happy even, to oblige. Polaris had her wrapped around her finger like a lock of blonde hair.

Touko tries to steady her fingers, but every time her knee bumps against Polaris, or she grazes her hand against the shell of Polaris’s ear, her heart sings. She could spend the rest of her life here. But as euphoric as the sensations are, and as delightfully as they frazzle her brain, she forces herself to focus on Polaris’s hair. Were she to produce a shoddy braid, she would surely drown in Polaris’s disappointment.

“Who taught you to braid?” asks Polaris.

Gather, cross, tuck and pull. “Magazines.”

From a young age, Touko would often board a train after school to a neighbouring town where no one knew her. She would buy a self-identified girls’ magazine from a corner shop and then find somewhere quiet, like a park or a cemetery, to read. The magazines brimmed with advice columns for girls, articles for girls, stories for girls, and detailed their highs and lows and everything in between. Despite their differences, the girls in the magazines united together as one, as girls.

How she wished she could dive into a magazine and become one of them. It wasn’t until years later that she realised that what she really wanted to be was herself.

After she finished with the magazine, she would throw it away and return home. 

“When I was victorious over my siblings, I had to cut my hair,” remarks Polaris. She hovers a hand by her ear. “It used to run all the way down my back. My mother didn’t mind it so long as it was well-kept, but the conglomerate had certain expectations on how I should present myself.”

Touko nods. “It wasn’t until I left home that I could have my hair how I wanted.”

Before then, if she found herself alone in a public bathroom, she would approach the mirror and twist two sections of her hair together. She would admire her reflection, but after a few quickened heartbeats, she would comb the braid out with her fingers in case a boy came in and caught her. Doing this at home was never an option. Her parents could have walked in on her and punished her by cutting her hair even shorter, using the same scissors they massacred her paper dolls with.

They saw her wearing nail varnish once, and they ran her hands under scalding water for an hour.

“Before it was cut, if I wanted my hair tied, I was only permitted to have it in a simple ponytail,” says Polaris. Touko listens quietly. It is rare for Polaris to talk about her life before she became the Togami Conglomerate’s sole heir. “When I infiltrated the last stage of the selection competition, that was the first time I could present as a girl. I chose my dress, my name, and Pennyworth tied a blue ribbon to my hair... It must still be on the island. I left it behind along with the hair I cut off.”

A small smile pulls on Touko’s lips. “Now, you can grow it as long as you like.” 

Because the conglomerate is no more. But she doesn’t say that part aloud. She wishes she could have seen Polaris back then, but she would much rather be with the Polaris here right now. The Polaris sitting between her legs. Her Polaris-sama.

Polaris started growing her hair out months ago and while Touko was quick to notice, the others only started commenting on it recently. Hiroko has offered to cut Polaris’s hair, Komaru has been flaunting different fashion magazines and Makoto complimented it a few times. Despite the varied responses, what they all have in common is none of them have been referring to Polaris as a ‘she’. Not that they know any better. Only Pennyworth and Touko are aware. And as much as Touko wants to correct the others, as much as she knows how much it can sting to be called something you’re not, it is up to Polaris to decide if and when she can.

Too soon, Touko reaches the end of Polaris’s hair. Her fingers itch, wanting to unravel it so she can braid it again. So she can stay in this moment for longer. Instead, she fixes a hair tie around the end of the braid before crawling backward, resisting the pull of Polaris’s presence. She slips off the bed and rummages through a desk drawer.

“I want to see,” says Polaris.

“There’s just one more thing left to do.” Touko returns to the bed. In her hand is a blue ribbon, one of many given to her by Komaru, which she ties into a bow at the end of Polaris’s fishtail braid. “Now I’m done.”

She grabs her phone from nearby and takes a photo. Then she passes it to Polaris, who studies it silently. 

Each second that passes is potentially a second where Polaris is dissatisfied with Touko’s work. The wait strangles her insides. Touko can barely breathe. She would bite her fingernails, but the suspense would probably have her gnawing down to her knuckles, so she grips her skirt instead.

“At dinner, I intend to reintroduce myself to the others as Polaris,” announces Polaris, still looking at Touko’s phone. “Though, that won’t affect what they call me. They will continue referring to me as ‘Togami’. You are the only one who addresses me by my forename.”

It has been months since Polaris pulled Touko into an empty office and asked her to call her that. Despite how Polaris’s previous name had flown freely from Touko’s tongue, changing had been easy. Instantaneous. And Touko is sure the others will adapt just as quickly. If they somehow don’t, she’ll make them.

“Do you know why I asked you to do this for me?” asks Polaris.

The obvious answer would be because Touko often wears her hair in braids, so logically she would have the most experience. Nothing short of the best is acceptable. Kyouko used to braid a section of her hair, but sometime after arriving at Future Foundation, she stopped.

“It’s because you know I won’t judge you,” says Touko.

Polaris responds immediately. “I wouldn’t care what you think. Or what anyone else thinks. None of that affects who and what I am.”

And that’s just one reason why Touko adores her so much.

“But you trust me, don’t you?” says Touko.

There’s an intake of breath as Polaris tenses, but she doesn’t answer. Touko smiles to herself. 

“I love you too, Polaris-sama.”

Her arms loop around Polaris and squeeze. She feels Polaris’s muscles slowly relax and understands the silence. The fact that Polaris doesn’t demand she unlatch her arms from around her middle speaks for itself.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4 (soon))

[godbirdart]

watching america's election year unfold from a country whose politicians are constantly trying to copy america's homework in every worst possible way:

[cametotheshowinsd]

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? (2024) written & directed by Taylor Swift

So tell me everything is not about me …but what if it is?

[artilite]

"Do you know something?"

[herewegobebe]

TAEMIN | 'Horizon' MV [x]

[hotshotsxyz]

beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

[kasterarts]

Moving Forward. (Spoilers for YTTD up through 3-1b)

[starflungwaddledee]

he does this every single year 🍰🎉

[lyslsstuff]

Great day for those who don't celebrate Valentine's day.

[jkvjimin]

TAEHYUNG, NAMJOON & JUNGKOOK + memories (2014-2021) (cr. dwellingsouls, 0613data, namuspromised)

happy birthday, sky! @jung-koook 💟

[lazylittledragon]

what do you mean youre technically a detransitioner cause of terf bullshit?

it's a v long story but i detransitioned for a couple of years when i was 16/17, for multiple reasons but mostly because i fell into the blaire white/kalvin garrah chamber of "you have to be This way to be trans otherwise you're not real".

i was already Deeply insecure about myself and my 'passing' and i was led to believe that i couldn't want to wear makeup or skirts, and i couldn't choose not to have bottom surgery, and i couldn't do anything but bind for 12+ hours a day to the point that my ribcage is still misshapen. basically i thought that if i wasn't suffering enough doing 'feminine' things, i couldn't really be trans, so i should just go back to being a girl and suck it up.

the terf bullshit is because i'd seen a lot of terfs/detransitioners talking about the 'dangers' of testosterone and how it would turn me into a horrible ugly evil monster and how there was nothing worse than wanting to be a man. which combined with 'you need to fully medically transition to be valid at all' creates some very dangerous and upsetting feelings to cope with.

it also came from trying really hard to put myself in a little box before i realised that my sexuality/gender are very fluid and it's FINE for me not to have a label and just do whatever i want. when i was 19 or so i went back to using they/them (and eventually he/him) and changed my name again because even though i like doing 'feminine' things, i don't want to be seen as a woman.

tldr: i was conditioned by transphobic/terf rhetorics to think that i was being trans the 'wrong' way so i couldn't be trans at all, so i believed i must actually be a girl if i still wanted to do 'feminine' things. nowadays i am a transmasc who does feminine things because i don't give two shits about what any transmed prick thinks of me anymore.

[kikker-oma]

A late birthday present for @telemna-hyelle !!

You're a lovely writer and I've been meaning to draw something for you for ages🥰 this story was so so sweet and soothed my soul❤️

[themisterhip]

The sillys 🧛😝✨

[superfruitland]

|| masterpost || previous || next ||

idiot falls asleep and never schedules update moment. AND over half of the panels were drawn when i was sick as shit. you're welcome btw.

but great news!! live life will now update bi-weekly! congrats on my baby au for coming out of the closet, we love you as you are. not setting a specific date for each week, but that's a promise i'm making due to some backlogged updates as i'm planning something devious. downright diabolical. siniter scheming.

and for those confused, here's what we're referencing xoxo

[raggedy-spaceman]

"Amongst all of David's awards, you were recently named on the DILF list. Here's the top five: Pedro Pascal, Oscar Isaac, David Tennant, Mads Mikkelsen, Cillian Murphy. Oh, and Michael Sheen came in-" "Oh and where is he on the list?" "Michael Sheen's number six." "Number six! And just remind me where I am?" "Three, you're three." "Number three!"

Justice for Michael Sheen!