#FINALLY ONTO THE NEXT ARC!!!

[moomoorare]

﹏𓊝﹏﹏ 𓆝*̥˚ -ˋˏ• ༻𓇼༺ •ˎˊ- 𓆝*̥˚﹏𓊝﹏

Queendom (A Cherry Blossom Ball) 🌸 - Scales of Fate AU

· · ── 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 ˎˊ- ⋆·˚ ༘

Summary:

Sunday is finally here: on the last day of the Flowering Azalea Festival, the Ocean Empire celebrates the start of their rule with the Cherry Blossom Ball.

Queen Lizzie receives presents, people and a rollercoaster of emotions.

At the party, Cleo and the Queen share a dance, Gem accepts a drinking contest that brings forth some deeply hidden truths and anger, until it all finally spills out on the floor, just like her blood.

The night ends with great success.

And so red curtains close on this arc of the story, allowing the characters to leave and explore the world on their journey to visit all of the Empires.

.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶( 𓆉 𖦹*ੈ‧ 𓇼 ₊˚ 𓆡 )︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

[necrotic-nephilim]

what's fun about shipping Tim with Dick, Jason, or Damian is he has, at some point, hallucinated all of them to comfort himself. even when he doesn't like them or particularly get along with them, he has to imagine/hallucinate them just so he has the power to go on. Tim's concepts of the Robin mantle and what it should be is so fun, because he respects the others through the Robin mantle. Tim worships Dick because he was the first Robin. he wouldn't be Robin if Jason hadn't died in the mantle. and a lot of his frustration with Damian is he feels Damian isn't honoring the mantle correctly. when you ship Tim with the other Robins you can't divorce their identities as Robin from it because Tim will always see them as a Robin first and that's so fun and fucked up. like.

batman (1940) #456

Tim perceiving Dick as *Robin* cheering him on, not Nightwing, which is the version of Dick that Tim actually knows? that's just. wild of him. he will always view Dick as Robin first, his personal hero but also the original of the legacy. his love for Dick is shaped by that.

and then of course, even when he's hallucinating/imagining Jason cheering him on, it's *still* through the lense of being reminded how Jason failed? subconsciously believing that Jason got himself killed because of his actions, and that being a lesson for Tim to learn from? Jason isn't a person to Tim, he's a moral lesson about how to be Robin. any potential idolization he could have of Jason isn't because he loves Jason, it's because of the lessons Jason's death taught him.

and then, even though him hallucinating TIm is from the New-52, which makes characterization all kinds of questionable, i do think it makes sense for TIm to hallucinate/imagine Damian after Damian's death in an attempt to cope with it.

teen titans (2011) #18

to an extend, he sees Damian's death as in part his own fault. and even hating Damian, Tim needs the comfort from this to cope with Damian being gone. he's angry that Damian even was Robin, and has to learn something from Damian's death and how it impacts the Robin mantle, and teenage heroes as a whole. like, Tim can pretend he hates Damian all he wants, even getting taunted by the image of Damian, but there's still an underlying love to their relationship.

i think that's just the fun of shipping Tim with any of them. you will never divorce Tim's views of them from the Robin mantle and how fucking Unwell he is about anyone else who's been Robin before or after him, to the point he has to hallucinate them comforting him when he's at his lowest. it's always going to be a little unhealthy, a little toxic, and driven by Tim's relationship with being Robin as well. i need more Tim being weird about Robin in these ships.

[angel13xo]

GUYS I FUCKING FINISHED HXH AAAHHHAAAAHAHAHAGAG IM SO HAPPY THE ENDING WAS SATISFYING OMG SHOULD I READ THE MANGA!?!!?!???

[patriotismforstetriol]

Arc 2 Zerif's Great Beast Revival Sensing Abilities

He senses Raisha's potential to summon one. Phrasing sort of implies he wasn't sure which one she might summon.

He claims, also, that he could sense 'where' the others would arrive.

"I knew you had the potential to summon a Great Beast." He brought a finger gently to his forehead, where a spiral looped beneath the skin. "Just as I knew where the others would awaken."

- Tales of the Fallen Beasts: Gerathon/Betrayal, Brandon Mull, p.181

He's already on-site when Dinesh and Arax are summoned.

He takes days to arrive, for others (Suka, Halawir, Kovo, Cabaro, possibly Rumfuss)

Needs information on the beast's location to be leaked before he arrives (Ninani, Tellun, possibly Rumfuss, possibly Kovo)

Can detect Mulop when he's actively using his powers, but not otherwise?

So how much information is the Wyrm giving him?

My best guess is, since the set of Great Beasts he has trouble finding overlaps quite well with the set of "wise" Great Beasts (Mulop, Ninani, Tellun, etc.), those guys maybe have more defenses against being tracked by the Wyrm. Whereas Suka and the others accidentally "broadcast" their locations more to the Evertree and Wyrm.

My other, funnier guess is that travelling across the globe is still slow enough that possessed Zerif is poring over maps, guessing which Great Beast will arrive first. And sometimes he gets it wrong and has to quickly cross another ocean to reach the Great Beast that just got summoned.

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[4c-aperture]

spn was the top fandom BAR NONE for a decade on this site, wdym there are only ELEVEN jody/mary fics

[liquidstar]

ok so since mizi is out of the game now... my guess for who dies in the ivan vs till round is now ivan, if anyone. theres a chance no one dies w how things are going rn but... ivan's arc is about till, but till's is about mizi. ivan can conclude his arc in this round, but till cant. so i think the more likely one to die is ivan. and either way i think till is going to somehow find mizi down the line

[dark-fics-4-you]

In the Night

dark!Ghostface!stepbro!Rafe x f!Reader w a side of JJ x Reader

READ ENTIRE WARNING BEFORE PROCEEDING

Warnings: noncon (rape), incest (step siblings), murder, major character death, p in v smut, lowkey yandere themes, knife kink, blood kink, unprotected sex, creampie, Rafe is very obsessed with his little step sister (everyone is 18+)

You cowered behind the car, trying to quiet your shivering sobs. Your mind was racing, barely able to hold onto any thought other than the ghastly scene you had just been forced into.

For months, a masked killer had been terrorizing Kildare and tonight you came face to face with him.

Only to realize that you had been living with him for half of your life.

For the most part, it had been a night like any other, JJ had taken you out on a little dinner date before bringing you back to his house.

You had been dating for several months at this point, a fact that your stepfather, Ward, begrudgingly accepted, but your stepbrother seemed to harbor more resentment towards him than any of the other Pogues.

Just before you had left, Rafe had gotten into yet another argument with you about him, although he had never been so aggressive with you about it before.

“He’s not good enough for you, Y/N! You know he’s just going to get you into trouble.” Your older step brother scolded you.

“Maybe he’d stay out of trouble if you and your gang didn’t bring it to him all the time,” you sniped back, pushing past him to get to the door.

You were interrupted when his hand clamped down hard around your arm just above your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you seriously trying to walk away from me right now?” Rafe growled as he turned to you, his hold still tight on your arm.

“Yeah, I am, JJ is out front waiting for me. Now let go of me, Rafe.”

He stared down at you, a familiar yet unrecognizable glint in his blue eyes. He scanned your face for a moment, tension heavy in the air, before finally reluctantly releasing your arm with a huff.

“Just uh… stay safe, okay, Y/N? You know how dangerous it’s been recently.” You could have sworn you saw a small smirk on his face before you turned to exit.

When you and JJ got back to his place after dinner, the two of you had just gotten out of the car when you heard him yell.

You turned to see a large figure wearing the same ghost face mask you had seen all over the news holding your boyfriend at knifepoint, the blade pressed into his throat.

JJ struggled against him for a moment, but he flinched when the man dug the sharp metal in just a bit.

“Stop fighting, or she dies next.” The man hissed, his familiar voice stopping you in your tracks as you raced around the car to them.

You were several feet away from them but too petrified to move.

“Stop!” You cried out, tears burning at your eyes. You felt terrified and helpless, unable to take your gaze off of your boyfriend.

The masked man ignored you, continuing to speak to JJ, “you don’t deserve Y/N, you know? She’s too good to be with a filthy Pogue like you.”

His words washed over you like a bucket of cold water as you finally recognized his voice and you wanted to be sick.

Your lips parted to beg with him, don't do this, please, don't hurt him don't hurt him!

At the flinch of his wrist, it was too late. You knew it. The blade glinted as it slid across JJ's neck, and you finally found your voice as a cascade of crimson followed its arc and JJ fell to ground.

You screamed as you felt the air get knocked out of your lungs. You wanted to collapse, and you probably would have if not for the sound of the killer’s horribly recognizable laughter drawing closer.

In the darkness, you turned, stumbling to the ground painfully before picking yourself up again and running before crouching behind the car JJ had been fixing up.

The chilly autumn air made you shiver and your vision was blurred by your tears.

You still hadn’t gotten over your shock when you heard your name being called.

“Y/N,” he taunted, voice getting closer with each step.

Your heart was thundering in your ears so loudly you were scared he could hear it.

“Just come out now and I promise, I won’t hurt you.” He was on the other side of the car now and you felt your stomach clench in terror.

Your eyes widened when he walked around the car, easily spotting you crouched near the back door.

When he ran towards you, you opened the back car door, blocking him momentarily as you climbed in, planning to slide across and run out the other side.

Your fingertips reached for the door handle, but large hand gripped your legs, pulling you back towards him. Flipping onto your back, you tried to kick him off, desperately scratching at his arms with your your nails at the same time.

The man pinned you beneath him, cackling at your pathetic attempts to fight back. In your panic, you grabbed at his face, pulling his mask off at the same moment his bloodied knife came to your throat.

You froze beneath him, staring up into your step brother’s eyes in shock and horror.

“Rafe?” You whispered, tears spilling past your lashes. “Why?”

A sickening grin spread across his lips as he leered above you. “Didn’t I always tell you, sweetheart? JJ isn’t good enough for you. He didn’t know you like I do.”

His free hand came to your cheek, stroking it lovingly and accidentally smearing JJ’s blood across your skin.

“Stop it!” You whimpered, nausea bubbling up in your gut as the coppery scent hit your nostrils. “You’re insane!”

Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed at that, anger darkening his eyes. He drew so close you could feel his breath against your skin, “I’m just trying to protect you-”

“Protect me?!” You hissed, tears streaming down your cheeks now.

Rafe’s nose twitched, frustration written all over his face.

“You don’t get it,” he mumbled, eyes leaving your face and trailing down your chest. “But I’ll show you.”

Rafe removed the large blade from your throat, grabbing the bottom of your shirt before slicing it down the middle.

You whimpered beneath him, trying to cover yourself up, but his knife found your throat again, pressing down slightly.

“Don’t make me hurt you too,” he threatened, his low voice making your stomach twist.

His pupils were blown wide as he took you in.

“No bra?” He grinned wickedly, “guess my lil sis is more of a slut than I expected.”

“Rafe,” you pleaded, voice breaking through your tears as you looked up at him. “Please, I’m scared.”

He groaned at that, pressing closer and you shuddered at the feel of him growing harder against you. You squirmed when his large hand cupped over your tit, squeezing your nipple between two fingers and drawing a whine from your throat.

His lips smothered yours, hungrily tasting you and taking your breath away. With the cold metal at your throat, there was nowhere to turn to get away from him. Nausea churned inside you when he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

He pulled away finally and put the knife down on the floor to unbuckle his belt, fumbling with his button and zipper before freeing his erect cock from his boxers, not even bothering to push his pants down.

At the sight of your step brother stroking his hard dick above you, your tears started flowing again, disgust and horror mixing with a third emotion you were too ashamed to identify.

Rafe forced your thighs apart, pushing your skirt up to reveal your pink panties.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, pressing his thumb to your covered clit. You squirmed in his grasp, biting your lip to stop your whimpers from escaping.

“Can’t wait anymore,” he breathed through gritted teeth, grabbing your panties and sliding them to the side before lining his tip up with your slick entrance.

“Stop, Rafe-!” your protest was cut off when your step brother pushed himself inside you, stretching your unprepared cunt around him.

You whined loudly, heart skipping a beat when his hand wrapped around your throat, smearing the blood from the knife across your tender skin.

He stilled above you for a moment, taking a shaky breath as he basked in the feeling of your snug walls squeezing around him, tighter than he could have imagined. He inched himself deeper until his tip kissed your cervix.

Rafe leaned closer to you, his lips covering your before he began slowly thrusting into you, increasing his pace with each push of his cock.

You mewled against his lips, confused and disgusted with yourself when you could feel yourself growing wetter around him.

He broke the kiss and you gasped for breath, only for his grip to tighten around your throat.

There was nowhere to go, and Rafe easily caged you in on top of the leather seats of car. You felt claustrophobic, overstimulated by the feel of him rutting into you in the cramped backseat.

The lewd sound of his cock plunging into your slick cunt taunted you, and you couldn’t control the pornographic moans that he was forcing out of you.

His thrusts were brutal, bordering on punishing at this point, and his fingers were squeezing around your neck so tight your vision was becoming fuzzy at the edges.

“Rafe-!” You choked, hot tears burning at your eyes.

The world was spinning around you, the pressure building between your legs. You grabbed onto Rafe, clinging to him tightly in your confusion.

“Tell me you love me,” he groaned, not slowing his pace at all as his thumb found your clit, messily rolling over it.

Your skin crawled at his words, stomach flipping as you nervously shook your head no, but you couldn’t bite back your moan as he teased your tender bud.

You knew that only pissed him off more though, and his grip on your throat tightened in warning.

“Tell your big brother you love him, dumb fucking slut.” He hissed, hitting a spot that made you see stars.

“I-” you whimpered before whispering. “I love you.”

He kissed you hard, growling as he pulled away and resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Tell me again, baby.”

His hips tilted to meet yours, pushing himself deep inside you with each thrust. His thumb lazily traced your clit, pulling you to the brink.

“I love you,” you moaned, primal desires overcoming your thoughts of resisting.

“Again.”

“I love you, fuck, Rafe!” you whimpered as you were pushed over the edge.

Blinding white light exploded behind your closed eyes as you came undone around him. Sinful pleasure tingled between your legs as he fucked you even harder, and he cursed as you squeezed around him.

You couldn’t think straight, much less control your mouth, and the endless string of “I love you Rafe”’s that rolled off your tongue was the reason it wasn’t long before your step brother was painting your walls with his sticky seed.

[pathologicalreid]

kryptonite | s.r.

in which all roads lead to Spencer's apartment, at least they do for jareau!reader

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: fluff (some comfort (god knows spencer needs it)) content warnings: reader went to a bar, but she's not drunk, creepy guy follows her around, abandoned by her 'friends', takes place following 6x12 "corazon", spencer and reader's first tea date, spencer's migraine arc, jj is in the middle east, this fic definitely wasn't inspired by a 3 doors down song, ffofa!spencer, reader feels out of place in the BAU, sexual innuendo word count: 2.97k a/n: MY GIRL IS HOME i have been wanting to go back to jareau!reader since ffofa ended. i genuinely have their whole lives planned out.

Screwed. You were so totally completely screwed.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” The guy behind you asked once again, but he’d had more to drink than you. You wouldn’t trust yourself behind the wheel of a motor vehicle right now, much less a man who had leeched himself to you in a dive bar.

You laughed nervously, crossing your arms in front of your stomach protectively as you checked for passing cars before walking across the street. “Yeah, I’m sure,” you called over your shoulder, dreading the image of him following you around.

Slowly, you began recognizing your surroundings, the street name that you were turning onto ringing a bell—but which one? Somewhere you had seen the name, but as you glanced around, nothing triggered a memory. “I don’t want you to get left walking all around at night, could get dangerous,” he offered, slurring his speech.

It was the green canopy that finally jogged your memory, you picked up your pace as you recognized Spencer’s apartment complex. “I’m really fine,” you insisted, cursing your friends for the nth time for leaving you in the bar.

You faltered at the door, the blood draining from your face as you realized you’d need Spencer to buzz you in before you could finally lose the creep on your tail. “You’re supposed to push the button,” the guy—whose name you could not recall for the life of you—instructed you.

Smiling anxiously, you reached forward and pressed the button next to Spencer’s name, tapping your heeled boot on the sidewalk as you hoped he’d come let you in. For all you knew, he wasn’t even home.

“If your guy isn’t here, we could always head back to my place,” the drunk guy offered, looking around aimlessly, “it’s over… where are we?”

With wide eyes, you pushed the button two more times for prosperity’s sake, hoping that the world would take pity on you and get you away from him. “Don’t worry about it,” you mumbled, pushing the button again before resigning yourself to an evening with this guy. Turning around, you gave him your best attempt at a smile, “Look, I’m really sorry, but somewhere we got our wires—“

He nodded behind you, “Hey, is that your guy?”

You could’ve cried. Honestly, your eyes might’ve welled up at the sight of Spencer Reid, it looked like he had dragged himself out of bed to come get you. “Yeah,” you breathed, “That’s him.”

Spencer peered out the window, the frustrated look on his face softening when he saw you in the dim lamplight. He opened the door and stood, “Y/N, hey,” he greeted, brown eyes flickering from you to your unexpected guest.

“Hey, man,” the guy said from behind you, “I’m just droppin’ your girl home. I wanted to make sure she got home safe, there are a lot of weirdos out there.”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised in acute irritation, “Sure are,” he responded dryly. He took one look at your widened eyes and reached into his pajama pockets, holding his keys out for you to take, whispering his unit number to you as you swiped them.

“Thank you,” you breathed, squeezing through the doorway behind him and making your way up to apartment twenty-three. You unlocked the front door, faltering when you made your way inside.

You’d never seen Spencer’s apartment before, the entire space perfectly curated so that every nook and cranny was just so… Spencer. His bookshelves were crammed full of old texts, books that collectors would go to the mat for were piled up on the hardwood floor, waiting to be placed on a shelf.

The walls were painted a dark shade of green, and you wondered if Spencer had chosen the color himself or if the apartment had always been this color. You walked inside, placing your dead phone and Spencer’s keys on the coffee table before taking a seat on the supple leather. Tonight had been a nightmare, a story torn right out of the book about your college years.

You stood up as the doorknob turned, and Spencer walked inside, kicking his shoes off before locking the door behind him. “Spence, I am so sorry,” you insisted, walking around the couch and approaching him, “My phone died, and I didn’t know where else to go. I was going to take the metro, but then I remembered that you live near Van Ness, and I thought having somewhere to go would be better than potentially bringing that guy back to my place.”

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking you over quickly, checking the state you were in.

Nodding, you nervously ran a hand through your hair, “Yeah, that’s just… not how I wanted to spend my night.” Finally able to get a good look at him, you inspected his flannel pajama pants, a blue Madras pattern conflicting with the orange emblem of his CalTech shirt. You had never seen him so at ease, “I’m sorry for waking you.”

He shook his head dismissively, “You didn’t, I was still awake.”

You hummed, “Reading?”

Spencer faltered, “Oh, yeah,” his voice softened, looking over at the bookshelves as if he was missing something.

Part of you wanted to mention the odd behavior, but the two of you only ever interacted within the confines of the BAU. Maybe you don’t know him well enough to say that to him. “Do you have a phone charger that I can use? Once I get enough charge, I can just take the metro back to my place.”

Frowning, Spencer looked at you as if you had grown horns, “I’m not letting you take the metro, it’s the middle of the night.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you checked the time displayed on his microwave, if you plugged your phone in now, you’d be able to make it before the metro shut down for the night. “I only need to get on one line to get back to my place,” you informed him.

“That’s irrelevant, it’s past eleven and you’ve already been followed around by one creep tonight,” he reminded you, leaning against the column in his entryway and giving you a knowing look.

Your heart pounded in your chest, “Will you drive me home then?”

Running his hands through his hair, Spencer mumbled something unintelligible before he answered, “No, I shouldn’t drive right now. Just… I’ll go find you something to sleep in,” he told you, pushing off of the wall to go into what you assumed was his bedroom.

You sat back down on Spencer’s couch, skimming your palms over the knit blanket that had been thrown over the back of it while you waited for his return. Spencer Reid was something of an enigma to you, there were times when you thought he’d be your closest friend in the unit, and there were other times when he seemingly wanted nothing to do with you.

He came back out of his room, balancing a sweatshirt in his hands and presenting it to you, “Hey, this should fit.”

Checking the tag on the sweatshirt, you nodded in response as you inspected the rest of the crewneck. An old academy emblem was embroidered on the front of it, but the year didn’t match the timeline of when Spencer did his training at the Academy. You hummed, “Whose sweatshirt was this?” You tried to act nonchalant, thumbing the loose threads on the cuff.

“I’ll check my desk for a charger,” he swerved around your question, leaving you holding the sweatshirt in the middle of his living room.

You watched him walk away, “Uh, where should I change?”

He nodded his head in the direction of his room, “My room is fine. The bathroom is connected if you need it.”

Quickly, you slipped into his room and stripped off your dress, laying it on his bed while you pulled the crewneck over your head. At the very least, the fabric smelled like Spencer instead of smelling like another girl’s perfume. The navy blue sweater skimmed the top of your thighs, falling over you comfortably.

Rolling your dress into a ball in an attempt to hide your bra, you opened the door and jumped when you were met by Spencer. “Is that good?” He asked you, looking you up and down—not for the first time that night.

“What?” You asked, peering up at him with wide eyes. Obviously, you hadn’t expected him to be waiting for you outside of his bedroom. You would’ve mentally prepared yourself to be in your underwear in front of him—you’ve had dreams that started much like this.

He smiled softly at you, “The sweatshirt,” he whispered, “Does it fit alright?”

Mystery girl’s sweatshirt fit you just fine, and you nodded a confirmation up at him, looking at your iridescent reflection in his glasses.

“I live by a lot of nightlife, and that’s gotten out once or twice. So, there’s a small box of clothes that people have left behind here. For all I know that sweatshirt was Morgan’s,” he told you, holding a charger out for you to take.

Your face warmed with embarrassment, “You don’t owe me an explanation,” you murmured before taking the charger from his hand, letting your fingers linger a bit too long in his palm.

The soft smile that remained on his face was enough to make you weak at the knees, “I know, but you asked.”

Holding the charger to your chest, your head bobbed, “The sweatshirt’s great, Spence,” you told him meekly, stepping around him to plug the charger into the wall, and setting your phone next to his on the kitchen counter.

“Do you want to call your sister?” Spencer asked, loitering in the doorway between his room and the living room and sticking his hands in the pockets of his pajamas.

Shaking your head, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “No, she’s probably busy. Still uh… adjusting to her new job.” You looked over at him, each of you staying on one side of the room. You weren’t sure what JJ’s new job entailed. She had been acting cagier than usual on most of your phone calls.

He finally kicked off his shoes, prompting you to take a seat on the couch and unstrap your heels. “Are you going to tell me what happened tonight?”

Leaning back into the cushions, you tugged the hem of your sweatshirt down on your hips, “There’s really not much to tell.” You watched intently as he turned the corner, sitting next to you on the couch, so close that you felt the heat emanating off of his body. To your surprise, Spencer was one of those people who was built like a furnace—the lanky stature was misleading.

“Did you go out alone?” He asked, matching your level of relaxation and leaning back on the couch. Grabbing one of the pillows from the end of the couch, you set it in your lap and wrapped your hands around it.

Shaking your head, you frowned at your phone, which still hadn’t powered on, “No, I went out with a group of friends for a birthday.”

Concern pinched his brows, “Your friends left you in the bar with that guy? Why would they do that?”

You shrugged in response, skimming your fingertips over the stitching on his pillow, “They think I need to get laid.”

“Do you?” He asked, likely before he was able to process what he was saying, based on the shocked look on his face.

Smiling softly at him, you teased, “Jeez, Spence, buy me dinner first.”

Spencer’s cheeks turned pink as a result of your jest, shaking his head quickly, “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m sure you have plenty— er… I’m sure you’re very successful in that area of your life.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips, the light feeling of laughter a stark difference from how you felt twenty minutes ago, “I’m just messing. I know what you meant.” At least, you thought you knew what he meant. You kept watching him, his body turned away from the lamp, neck slightly craned forward. “So,” you began, “If you weren’t sleeping, and you weren’t reading, what were you doing before I buzzed?”

His expression went tight, and you worried you had somehow stepped over an invisible line, “Can you keep a secret?”

Your heart jumped at the prospect of becoming Spencer’s confidante. You’ve spent your first few months in the BAU hoping someone would invite you in, but they all seemed too preoccupied with losing your sister to the State Department to even acknowledge the fact that you were floundering. Trying not to seem too eager, you nodded at him, “You can tell me anything.”

His eyebrows knit themselves together, “I’ve been getting these… headaches lately. Migraines really.”

Your expression softened, mouth going slack in surprise, “Have you been to a doctor?”

He nodded in response and leaned his head to the side, so close to you that you could feel his hair touching your shoulder, “They can’t find a physical cause.”

Your stomach flipped, eyes widening ever so slightly as you found yourself glad he wasn’t looking at you. If there wasn’t a physical cause for Spencer’s migraines, then you knew exactly what he was worried about, “I’m sorry, Spence.”

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment, not saying anything else for a moment. There was just the two of you on his couch, and you wondered if there was any way you could make this a normal occurrence. You’d give away every night out for the promise of nights like this.

Bits of the puzzle started to fall into place. The way he had acted on the case in Miami, all of the time off he had taken, and even his newfound aversion to coffee—he was drinking less caffeine. He hasn’t been sleeping, the bags under his eyes told you that much.

“I’m gonna make tea,” you announced, resting your hands on the tops of your thighs and pushing up. “What kind of tea does Spencer Reid drink on a Saturday night?”

With his head buried on a couch cushion, you hear an almost pained response, “Lavender.”

Your back was to him as you smiled, “I like a guy who drinks lavender tea,” you said, your voice too soft to carry into the living room. Turning on his electric kettle, you started going through his drawers, hoping to find a stash of tea bags somewhere.

“This really isn’t necessary,” Spencer called over from the couch. “I just… needed to share.”

You hummed as you found the tea, grabbing a lavender tea bag before lifting up a box of chamomile, checking the production date before tossing a bag on the counter. Your next challenge would be mugs. “You took me in like a stray cat in the middle of the night, making you tea while you have a migraine is the absolute least I can do.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt his eyes on you as you worked in the kitchen. Dropping the tea bags in the mugs—an air and space museum one for him and a Snoopy one for you—you picked up the kettle before it let off its high-pitched beep, pouring the hot water into the mugs.

Carefully carrying the mugs back to him on the couch, you set them on the coffee table and returned to your spot next to him, “Here we are,” you said, flattening out a napkin for the two of you to place your tea bags on.

“Thank you,” he responded timidly, reaching out for the mug. “Since I shared about myself, I think it’s only fair that you share something with me,” he told you, a ridiculously serious look on his face.

You raised your eyebrows, using your tea bag to stir the tea in your mug, “Oh, a quid pro quo?” A soft smile grew on your face when he nodded, “What do you want to know?”

He thought about it for a while, taking a sip of his tea while he considered his options. “Why does JJ call you Ducky?”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes in response, “Oh, Spence, if you wanted the answer to that question, you should’ve asked while I was drunk.”

“You were never drunk,” he responded easily. “Y/N—” he faltered, frowning before he had the chance to continue.

You incline your head toward him, “What is it? Is it your head?”

He shook his head carefully, “Would you mind if we watched something? On the TV?”

“It’s your apartment, you can do whatever you want,” you told him, your volume hovering just over a whisper.

Spencer reached forward and took the remote off of the coffee table, hitting the power button and bringing the television to life. To your surprise, the pictures that showed up were cartoons. Old reruns from when he would’ve been a kid, he must’ve noticed your surprise, because he whispered, “It gets too hard to focus on anything else.”

He must’ve changed the settings on the TV, bringing down the brightness in a way that was comfortable to his eyes. You thought of all the times Spencer had been in a bright or loud space for work in the past few months, and the sympathy made your chest ache. “Thanks for saving me,” you murmured, watching to catch him before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

Extending his mug to you, you gently clinked your mug to his before giving your undivided attention to Inspector Gadget.

As the night went on, you remained in your place on the couch, because when Spencer fell asleep on your shoulder, you didn’t have the heart to wake him up.  

[noosayog]

[baby fever] ft. ushijima wakatoshi

wc: 400

iwaizumi | atsumu | osamu | sakusa | kageyama | oikawa

--

You’re standing outside the gym where the Olympics team is practicing when you see Iwaizumi walk by, hand in hand with a clumsily waddling toddler. Iwaizumi nods at you and the toddler waves a chubby arm at you. You giggle and wave back. 

“Did you want to wait inside?” Iwaizumi asks. 

You’re about to decline when the toddler tugs on your fingers. 

“Come in?” he asks. 

You agree, letting him lead you by his grip around your ring finger and pinky. Inside the gym, Iwaizumi asks you to watch his son as he finishes up with the team. The child quickly settles into your lap, his babbling trailing off as he dozes away. You’re fiddling with a loose thread in his little sweater when Wakatoshi comes up behind you, freshly showered. He greets you with a brief kiss on the head and sits quietly next to you when he sees the sleeping kid in your arms. 

“Who’s this?” 

“Iwaizumi’s son,” you respond distractedly.

Ushijima stares intently at you as you gently rock the small child in your arms. He continues to watch in silence as you double-knot his shoelaces, straighten the sleeves on his sweater, and swat away the drool at the corner of his open mouth. He notices when you laugh quietly at his little snores.

His eyes are still on you when you finally look up at him. 

“What,” you laugh. “What are you looking at?” 

Before he can answer, Iwaizumi comes to relieve you of childcare duties. He thanks you and you assure him that his son was wonderful. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Ushijima states. 

You only smile at him, swinging your clasped hands in wide arcs and skipping a bit. 

Later that night, with your back nestled into his broad chest, he rubs a warm, large palm on your tummy. The gesture is innocent and gentle, but the circles get slowly wider. 

“You like kids, huh?” As he talks, the palm slides up to cup your breasts. 

“Is that what this is about?” 

“What do you think,” he asks, hands not stopping. “About having kids.” 

You push him onto his back and roll on top of his chest, eye to eye with him. He gazes at you lovingly and you’ll never get tired of it. 

“I want a girl,” you say. “I really want to see your big muscly arms holding a pink blanket with our little daughter in it.”

He gives you a confused look, “if that’s what you want.” 

He flips the two of you over, hands back on your body. 

“What are you doing!” you laugh. 

“Starting now,” he says simply, as his hands continue their trail down your body.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I'm back with another Merlin au! This time featuring a role reversal and Merlin getting yet another job that he never wanted! Enjoy! :D

EDIT: You can find part 2 of this au here!

This au takes places during the season four finale, when Arthur gives up on being king and tells Merlin that Camelot will have to find itself another king if they defeat Morgana, since Arthur no longer feels worthy of being king.

So, Merlin leads him to Excalibur and helps him draw the sword from the stone in front of the people of Camelot, successfully convincing Arthur to believe in himself and his place as a good leader.

That night though, after Arthur confided in Merlin about his worries of Morgana's magic being too powerful for them to fight, Merlin sneaks back into the castle in dosguise as Dragoon and plants the curse that will strip Morgana of her powers the next day. However, he gets caught in the act by Morgana, who of course immediately starts attacking her sworn enemy.

Merlin is put on the defensive, putting all of his efforts into shielding himself from Morgana's attacks and fending off Helios and his fighters at the same time. After a few minutes, his spell that disguises him as Dragoon fades, as all of his magical strength is poured into his fight against Morgana.

Merlin can see the exact moment that Morgana's eyes widened with shock, and it's then that he realizes what had just happened: Morgana knew exactly who he was now.

After the moment of shocked silence passed, Morgana started cackling, finding the situation hilarious. She taunts Merlin, asking if Arthur knows what he is. Upon seeing Merlin wince, Morgana offers him a deal: join her side and help eliminate Arthur, or he can burn in the courtyard like so many of their magical bretheren. Morgana sneers at him that he'd better accept her deal, as he'd burn on a pyre at Arthur's hand even if Merlin kept fighting at his side.

Merlin, predictably, rejects her offer and continues his attack, rebuking Morgana for her cruelty and violence. At this point, their fight had migrated all the way out into the courtyard, which gave them more space to use more destructive spells against each other.

Morgana hurled fireballs at Merlin, and he responded by throwing blinding arcs of lightning at her. Morgana managed to barely sheild herself against the attack, but Helios and his men weren't as lucky and were blasted away in the attack, all of them fatally wounded.

Seeing that her backup was now gone, Morgana redoubled her attacks, franticly throwing spell after spell at her prophesied killer. As Merlin desperately shielded himself, he had an idea. The very thought of it caused guilt to well up in his throat, but he saw no other way to survive.

As Morgana renewed her constant barrage of spells, Merlin didn't defend himself with a shielding spell. Instead, he powered all of his already diminished power into a redirection spell, attempting to throw Morgana's spells back at her.

Sure enough, as soon as Morgana's spells collided with Merlin's redirection spell, they were launched right back at Morgana, who didn't have enough time to dodge or shield herself from the blast.

Morgana's own spells hit her with all of the killing intent that she had aimed at her mortal enemy, and her spells accomplished their goal: killing their target.

Merlin both shocked and horrified as he looked down at Morgana's body, as he didn't intend to kill her, only subdue her so that she could stand trail and face Arthur's justice. However, it seemed like Morgana's own murderous fury had been too strong for even herself, ultimately bringing about her demise.

As Merlin silently held onto Morgana's fallen body, just as he did on that fateful day when he poisoned her and pushed her into Morgause's clutches, he saw the run begin to rise over the castle. He quickly jolted up at the sight, his heart leaping with panic, since he needed to be back in Arthur's camp in the woods before anyone noticed that he was gone!

Merlin ran out of the castle, quickly finding his way back to Arthur's camp, and planning out what he was going to say to hopefully explain his absence. Maybe picking medicinal herbs in preparation to help anyone wounded during the upcoming battle? That would work!

But... there wasn't going to be a battle, since all of their enemies were now lying dead in the castle's courtyard, unknown to all of the fighters preparing to give their lives to retake their home. Shit, everyone would start looking for answers the moment they set foot in the castle, how was Merlin supposed to throw them off his trail?!

Merlin was so preoccupied with these thoughts swirling around his head as he ran back to the hidden camp that he didn't notice the many eyes peering at him from a certain window in the castle, with the men inside having seen everything that had just transpired.

(When Morgana had taken over the castle, she had locked all of the lords and older knights on Arthur's council in an old meeting room, planning to execute them later. She didn't plan to rule with some useless council to hold her back after all!

It was truly an unfortunate coincidence for Merlin that the particular room that Morgana had locked them in had a perfect view of the courtyard below and the unexpected battle that took place on it that night.)

Merlin, luckily, managed to make it back to the camp just as Arthur was waking up, and no one else seemed to have noticed that he was missing that morning, too preoccupied by preparations for the upcoming battle. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief when no one commented on him being gone. Maybe this would actually go smoothly!

That morning, Arthur gave a rousing and inspiring speech to his people, ready to lead them into battle. With the light shining on him and Excalibur by his side, his people ready to follow him to the ends of the earth, Arthur looked every bit the king Merlin imagined he could be. Looking at Arthur, King Arthur, Merlin's heart swelled with pride and hope. And if he had to blink some tears from his eyes, then no one commented on it.

Still, the fact that Arthur was leading them into a battle that was already won had Merlin shifting his feet with nervousness. How would Arthur react? Would anyone discover that Merlin was behind Morgana's defeat? Would they question their unexpected boon, or would they simply accept it with relief?

Merlin's anxiety heightened with each step the army took towards Camelot. While the army, along with Tristan and Isolde, were going to try to storm the castle from the main entrance (which Merlin knew would be easier than anticipated, since Morgana's army was dead), a smaller group comprised of Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, Percival, and Leon were sent through the underground tunnels to launch a sneak attack on Morgana.

Merlin just put on a stoic face and nodded as Arthur outlined the plan, still trying to figure out how he could avoid suspicion after the army of Camelot realizes that Morgana and her army were already defeated.

Their small group easily makes to through the tunnels, which puts Arthur more on edge, as Merlin can see that he thinks that it's almost too easy, like they're walking into a trap. Merlin wished that he could allay Arthur's fears, but he couldn't at the moment, not without revealing that he knows too much.

When they reached the dungeons, Leon and Percival separated from them to go free Gwaine, Elyan, Gaius, and the other prisoners held down there. Meanwhile, Arthur, Merlin, and Gwen headed for the throne room, with two of them tense and ready for a fight against a formidable sorceress, and one of them tense under the weight of his own secrets.

When Arthur burst open the doors to the throne room, adrenaline rushing and ready for a fight to the death, he was ready to see his sister on his throne, mocking and tormenting him. Instead, to his shock, he found his entire council inside, alive and well and loudly squabbling amongst themselves.

Upon hearing the doors to the throne room crash open, they all froze and grew silent, turning to look at who was there. They all relaxed upon seeing Arthur, but tensed when they saw who was standing right behind him.

"I'm glad to see that all of you are unharmed, but what are you all doing here? Where is Morgana! We must defeat her at once!"

The lords' eyes grew wide as they started murmuring amongst each other in sharp tones. Finally, Geoffrey was pushed forward, seemingly appointed as the voice of the group.

"Welcome back, my lord. It is truly a blessing to see you back unharmed. However, we do bring troubling news to you. It is with a heavy heart that we inform you of these changes."

Geoffrey trailed off from there, his face grim. He seemed reluctant to say anything further, much to Arthur's frustration and horror.

"What do you mean news? What has happened? What has Morgana done?!"

Geoffrey sighed, looking every bit of his numerous years. After another tense moment of silence, Geoffrey spoke again.

"Sire, we wish to inform you that Morgana Pendragon is dead. She was killed in a battle in the early hours this morning. Her body still lies where she met her demise in the courtyard."

While Merlin grew pale and tensed even more, both Arthur and Gwen stumbled backwards with shock at Geoffrey's words, the breath knocked out of them both by the unbelievable news.

"What- How did this happen?! Who could have... how is that even possible?!"

"We," Geoffrey replied as he gestured to all of the lords and council members standing around him, "witnessed all of it from a room overlooking the courtyard. It was an unbelievable sight, one that I myself might not believe if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. A lone sorcerer called lightning down on all of Morgana's soldiers, killing them in an instant. He then proceeded to battle Morgana to the death in a duel of magic. He managed to defeat her before leaving the citadel in a hurry."

Arthur stood, frozen, as Geoffrey's words swirled around his head, almost comprehendible. Many conflicting feelings- relief, grief, shock, horror- welled up in his chest, almost choking him with their strength. He was paralyzed as he grieved his sister, celebrated his kingdom's safety from her wrath, and feared this new, more powerful sorcerer who had single-handedly defeated his sister, the most power magic user Camelot had ever seen.

Merlin, meanwhile, stood completely still, his heart beating as fast as a rabbit on the run from a wolf. They saw him, they all did. But it was dark, so maybe they didn't recognize him? Merlin hoped with everything he had that they hadn't recognized him during the battle.

Grimacing again, Geoffrey cleared his throat, apparently having more to say. Merlin's heart leapt with terror as Geoffrey opened his mouth once more.

"Sire, it is with great remorse that I must inform you of this, but there is more news. As is law, Morgana took the throne through right of conquest, as your father did in his time. Morgana was, in the time she ruled Camelot with her forces, the rightful ruler in the eyes of the law.

However, this sorcerer defeated the the ruler of Camelot and conquered her entire army. By the laws of Camelot and by the right of conquest, he is the rightful king of Camelot. Therefore, unfortunately, unless you formally challenge him for the throne and win, we cannot reinstate you as king at this time."

If it was possible, Merlin became even paler at those words, feeling woozy and sick to his stomach. Had he just sabotaged his own efforts?! He did all of this to keep Arthur as king, not undermine him!

Gwen gave a loud gasp, a look of horror on her face, while Arthur's jaw clenched in anger and frustration.

"This is preposterous! Whoever that sorcerer is, he fled! He cannot become king, nor can I challenge him, if he isn't even here!"

Merlin took a staggered step back as Geoffrey's eyes landed on him. He had the grasp at the pillar next to him for support under the old librarian's gaze. He knew.

"The sorcerer did leave after his battle with Morgana, as I said earlier, but I'm afraid that he is here right now, sire."

Merlin felt like he was about to faint. Oh gods, was he about to throw up?

Arthur's entire body jolted to attention, his grip tightening on the sword as he registered Geoffrey's words. He forced one strained word passed his clenched jaw.

"Where?"

Geoffrey motioned one of the other lords on the council forward, and he stepped forward with the coronation crown and royal seal resting on a pillow.

"The council and all of Camelot's vassal lords feel that it is in Camelot's best interest to acknowledge and formalize the sorcerer's claim to the throne at this time, as we are yet unaware of his true power or the danger he poses should he decide to attack. We unanimously agree that it would be best to not give him any reason to retaliate against Camelot, as we fear he might if we do not acknowledge his rightful conquest."

Arthur's face fell, his expression ashen and devastated. His own council had turned against him? They had chosen this unknown and potentially dangerous sorcerer to place the lives of his people in?

Arthur, Gwen, and Merlin were all frozen with shock and dread, looking on in horror as Geoffrey took the coronation crown and royal seal from their cushion and stepped forward, approaching the paralyzed trio.

"It is with a heavy heart that we crown the new king of Camelot, ascended through the right of conquest over Morgana Pendragon."

Geoffrey moved past Arthur, looking at first like he was heading for the door behind them, but Merlin knew who he was actually walking towards. Merlin flinched backwards, trying to get away from Geoffrey and the crown he was carrying, but he was stopped by the hard stone wall behind his back.

"We, the council and lords of Camelot, do declare our fealty to the slayer of Morgana, the prophesized sorcerer known as Emrys, King Merlin!"

Geoffrey punctuated his announcement by placing the crown on a very pale Merlin's head, much to the horror of Arthur and Gwen.

And it was at that moment that Merlin did faint.

That's all from this au for now! Let me know what you think of it and if you'd like a continuation of this au! Until next time!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[sweetbans29]

Little Flirt - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin and you flirt for way too long (based on THIS request)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Switching up the prompt just a little but I think it will help with the flow.

2020/2021

Life as everyone knew it had flipped. The end of your freshman year in college was not what you had expected in the slightest. It went from being one of the best things you had ever experienced to what felt like nothing. Due to the pandemic, your freshman year was cut short which also meant your first season as a collegiate athlete was also cut short. It was a bummer - to say the least.

So when Fall came around you were excited that your school welcomed back part of the student body. Under very strict guidelines your team was welcomed back and given the green light to begin your sophomore season. Before you got there, everyone was required to quarantine alone for 2 weeks in a nearby hotel before being able to move onto campus. Once you were able to get to campus, they did another quarantine, in groups, as a secondary precaution. It sort of made sense considering the people you were going to be around the most were your team.

Once the month of quarantine was over, you and your team were finally able to hit the gym. It was great to be back with the team and welcome the new freshman. It didn't take them long to warm up to you on the court considering everyone's lack of human interaction had people longing for connection. After the first few weeks, everyone played as if you all had been together for a few months. It began to feel like things had gone back to normal.

When games started you were reminded how not normal the world was. Everyone had to get tested multiple times before playing games which wasn't the weirdest part. The weirdest part was the fact that there was absolutely no one in the stands. Every school you played at tried their best, yours included, but it wasn't the same.

The games were still competitive and a little more physical than you recall. None of it really mattered considering you were just happy to be playing again. All of this leads you to today's game.

It is an away game for your team as you travel to Iowa for the first time of the season to play the Hawkeyes. You weren't a huge fan of away games, all thanks to the pandemic but your love for the sport kept you going.

Both teams are warming up and you begin to scout the other team. There are a few girls you take note of - one of them being their center. Another is a smaller girl, sort of scrawny frame but can shoot from anywhere - anywhere being multiple feet behind the arc. You know you are going to have to switch up the way you play defense but aren't too worried.

You look at her again and begin to really study her features. After a few minutes of watching her, it clicks. It's Caitlin Clark. You've heard of her. One of the things you always enjoyed doing was scouting out the next group of freshmen coming up and she was one of them. There were a few girls coming into the college game that caught your eye, Caitlin being one of them. You were excited to play against her.

When the game started, you saw yourself being challenged. You had the task of guarding the freshman and she was a challenge. She was everything the scouting report and media said she would be on the court. Her range was amazing, she never stopped taking shots and she had a solid pull-up game.

Throughout the game, the two of you kept going back and forth on who would win the little matchups. You could see the competitiveness in her eye and would send her smirks to get her riled up even more any time the play went your way. She would make it a point to come and mutter some sort of trash talk to you when the possession went her way. It became a little game within the game.

The game ended and your first matchup between the new star went your way. Even with the loss of her team, Caitlin dropped 21 points which you found impressive. After the game, you made sure to pull her aside.

"Hey, Clark!" You called after her as she was heading back to the locker room. She turns back and you can tell she is pissed but the loss - you can only assume you are the last person she wants to see right now. When she sees it is you, her hard exterior breaks and she gives a shy smile.

"Hey," she says and stops walking making you walk to her.

"You are going to be a little pain in my butt these next few years, aren't you," you say teasing her. Her smile grows and you can see a little blush creep into her cheeks. You were only a year older than her, but could tell you had an effect on her.

She just shrugs not really knowing what to say.

"I just wanted to come over and let you know that you are going to do great things. I am sure people say that to you all the time, but as someone who has now played against you - I hope there is a day when we can be on the same side of the court instead of opposite ones," you say and give her a genuine smile. "I look forward to our next matchup."

Your hand grazes her arm and gives her elbow a little squeeze. You give her one last smile and begin to head back to your team.

"Next time, I won't go as easy on you," she calls out to you. It makes you smile but you don't turn around to let it show, instead, you throw up your hand, flashing her your middle finger. You hear her laugh and you shake your head.

You know she means it, the next time you match up she won't go easy on you but it goes both ways. Now you have both seen how the other plays and know the next few years are going to be fun.

You played Caitlin once more during this season and her team took the win. The game was exactly how you expected it to be - she trashed talked a little more than you had expected which you did your best to return but your team losing put you in a slump. At the end of the game when your teams high-fived after she leaned in and whispered 'Now we're even'. Let's just say her words fueled you.

2021/2022

When you looked at the schedule for the year, you noticed that you would be playing the Hawkeyes three times. You have three chances to show her you are not one to just let her win.

Your first meeting was a fun one. They started letting some people into the crowd and that only fueled your little rivalry with Caitlin.

It really wasn't a rivalry but anyone looking in could see that the two of you talked more than any other competitors. The first two meetings between the two of you were back to back which was new to you and your team. Typically you would play teams a little further apart but this matchup was different.

Caitlin's team took the first win and she would not stop talking to you about how she was on top and would always be on top. You on the other hand were determined to never lose a game to her again.

Your little conversations on the court started to be noticed by both of your teams, not that either of you cared. You both had the stats to prove that you belonged in the starting line-up and on the court.

Your second meeting got a little heated as you tried to get into Caitlin's head a little more.

"Your hands have found my hips a lot tonight Clark," you say as the two of you are standing in the backcourt as one of her teammates is taking her free throws.

"It's called defense," she says like it is a known fact. You step a little closer to her to make sure she is the only one to hear your next comment.

"If they go any lower, we may have a different problem on our hands," you say just above a whisper and watch her reaction. All the color drains from her face and you nudge her. "I'm kidding, babe."

You can see the tenseness in her shoulders release as the game continues. Your team came out with the win and just like that you were tied again.

Your last meeting for the year was the toughest yet. Your two teams battled valiantly, taking the game to overtime. By the end of it, you were beat. Before you headed into the locker to felt someone grab your arm. Turning you see Caitlin.

"Clark," you say surprised. You give her your best smile which isn't much considering how tired you were.

"I just wanted to come over and say good game," she says and you can tell she is a little nervous. If you weren't so tired you would keep the conversation up but you were exhausted. So instead, you pulled her into you and enveloped her into a hug. She melts into you and the two of you stand there hugging for a few minutes.

Your eyes are closed as you hug her. It wasn't until you felt her arms wrap around you did you realize how much you missed physical touch.

Caitlin on the other hand had been dreaming of this since your first meeting. She stood there in your arms and knew for sure she wanted to be in them forever. She would never tell you that of course and decided to keep her little crush to herself.

You give her one last squeeze and pull away.

"The way you had me running up and down the court," you say with a laugh. "You have me needing a week to recover, babe," you say and give her a little nudge.

"Me? You literally pushed your team to get you into overtime," she says and pushes you back.

"Ya, whatever. I wasn't going to let you win again," you say.

The two of you parted ways for the night. As you went to bed that night you decided to DM Cait.

[You: Looks like you are no longer on top ;)]

2022/2023

It is your senior year and you decided to declare for the WNBA. It had been time, you felt like you had a good college run and were ready for more. Your team was the first to know you were declaring and then you decided to tell Caitlin. The two of you had talked a lot more and would often DM at least once or twice a week so it only felt right to let her know.

Caitlin fit into your routine really seamlessly. You credit the fact that the girl was always on her phone but really it was that her care and love for the game matched yours. The two of you went from being 'rivals' to friends and you would now consider her one of your best friends.

It's your draft night and you were likely to be the first pick of the 2023 WNBA draft. Even in that, you were extremely nervous. The night goes by in the blink of an eye. You were drafted to the Indiana Fever and could not be more excited. When you were lying down in your bed that night, you finally had a chance to look at your phone. The first thing you looked for was a message from Cait.

[Caitlin: Congrats on going first in the draft, can't wait to watch you 🤍]

[You: Thanks Clark - you'll have to hold down the college scene until you hit the draft]

You decide to message her your number, which in your opinion is long overdue but felt like it would lead to something more than it should be as rivals during your college years.

She immediately messages you.

[Clark: Can't get rid of me now]

[You: Oh I have my ways if I really wanted to]

[Clark: Hey! Just because you are a professional now doesn't mean you need to be mean]

[You: Don't give me a reason and we’ll be okay]

2023/2024

Your rookie season is a hard one - the transition is one that everyone says is going to be difficult but experiencing it is a whole other thing. You were tested physically and mentally and really leaned on your team and those around you.

Caitlin would always check in and give you her little trash-talking notes via text whenever you played. They would always end with some sort of praise but it wouldn't be Cait if it didn't have some sort of attitude.

Caitlin was the first to call you when you got named Rookie of the Year. She had slowly become your biggest fan and sent over a giant bouquet of flowers the second it was announced.

You would also check in on her during her season as she got closer and closer to breaking the NCAA women's scoring record. You even made it to the game when she broke the all-time NCAA scoring record. When one of the TV stations found out you were there, they asked if you would do a little interview.

"What brings you all the way to Iowa?" The interviewer asks.

"Well, that's simple. Clark," you say with a beaming smile.

"Do you know her well?"

"I would say so, she can be a pain in my butt but she's fun. Great player and her IQ for the game is one that is just memorizing to watch." You say.

"She hasn't explicitly declared for the draft but if she did, there would be a high chance of her getting drafted first similar to you which would mean she would be heading to Indiana. How do you feel about the potential of playing on the same team?"

"Well that is quite the hypothetical," you say with a laugh. "But I think it would be really neat to play on the same team as her, we have always played against each other and I think we would be pretty dominant on the court together."

Caitlin broke the scoring record that night. She was on Cloud 9 after the game. More so over the win than the record, it was cool but that wasn't the reason she played.

You had made your way down to the court to find her. When you did you ran up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist. It took her s second to realize it was you and when she did, she started jumping up and down. When you released her, she flipped around and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Way to go Clark," you whisper in her ear. "Proud of you babe"

She doesn't let you go and you feel like people are starting to suspect something. You bring your hands down to pinch her sides and she jolts back with the cutest disappointed look on her face.

"Why?" She asks and you laugh.

"Looks like there are people who want to talk to you," you nod your head over to the people waiting to get a picture or interview with her.

"Are you staying in town?" She asks hopeful but you shake your head no.

"Don't worry, I'll see you soon," you say and pull her in for one last hug.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," she whispers in your ear. She nuzzles her face into your neck and inhales your scent. You feel the tickle of her on your neck and give her one last squeeze.

You follow her and her team as they head in March Madness. You go to support her again when her team makes it to the Final Four. It is a nail-bitter the whole time but Iowa is headed to the championship.

At the end of the game, you make your way around to some of the players. You go to all the players you know, ending with Caitlin. You tell her how excited you are that she declared for the draft and make a joke about soon being teammates.

Before you know it you are dressed and on the orange carpet of the WNBA draft.

You being the no.1 draft pick the previous year and Rookie of the Year, were tasked with interviewing all the girls that came down the walkway.

The one person you were looking forward to seeing had finally gotten to you.

"Clark!" You yell as you welcome her and give her a hug. You make sure it is a quick one but Caitlin has something different in mind as she does not let you go. It didn't matter too much considering you had already seen the edits of the two of you but you were supposed to be the professional. You pinch her side, like you typically do to get her to release you and she complies.

"Okay, how do you feel about draft night?" You ask her.

"It is all sort of surreal. Like I can't believe I am here," she says with a beautiful smile.

"Well you are here and you are looking better than ever. Prada? Girl you are stunning," you say and play with the bottom of her jacket. She looked so good but you made a mental note to stare for too long. She laughs and puts her hand on your arm.

"Ya, the first Prada dressed someone in the W, it's pretty cool," she says and takes note of you checking her out.

"Well I will let you keep going but it is really great to see you and who knows, there is a potential we will be playing together soon," you say.

"Thank you," she says and leans in to give you one last hug.

Caitlin was drafted first of course and you were beyond excited. After she was interviewed and pulled back for some photos you found her and gave her a huge.

"We're teammates," you practically yell in her ear. She laughs.

"You are going to blow out my eardrum," she says but doesn't break the hug.

"You're being overdramatic, Clark. I am just excited," you say.

You pull her to the side once she is done with the shoot.

"So now that you'll be coming to Indy, you gonna let me take you out on a date?" You ask and she begins to smile and blush like a little schoolgirl.

She nods.

"4 years is a long time to make a girl wait, Clark," you say with a smile of your own.

"Ugh, why do you always call me Clark," she says as if it annoys her and hides her face in your neck.

"Well because it annoys you of course," you say and rub her back.

She mumbles something in your neck.

"What was that babe?" You ask.

"About time you asked me out," she says and you push her back in disbelief.

"Oh, now this is on me now? That's funny Clark," you say and she wants you to hold her again. You keep her at arm's length.

"Hug me," she says, borderline whines.

"Not until that date," you say and slowly begin to back up. She is now the one looking at you in disbelief. "See you at training camp!"

AN: This is a cute one. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[jasmines-library]

Tried and True

WHUMPTOBER 2023 DAY FOUR: Prompt - Hiding an injury.

Fandom: Batfam/DC/Young Justice

Summary: During a fight with Bane you get critically injured but leave it hidden from your brothers. When they find out, it's a race against time to get you back to the safety of the manor. Warnings: Bullet wound, blood loss, near death experience, surgery, cursing. Word count: 2.8k Note: I'm super excited about this one. That's all i'm gonna say :)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Bane fired three shots down the alleyway. They ricocheted off the bricks, clattering to the ground with a metallic ping. Dick Grayson hid crouched behind the lip of a building overlooking the alleyway, his mask pulled tight over his face. He watched with cautious eyes, surveying the villain before him. You were hunched over on the opposite side of the street dual daggers pressed firmly into the palm of your clammy hands. Damian and Jason lingered nearby, Tim opted to survey with his older brother. He had his bo staff hooked under his arm, ready to draw back and swing at any second. 

“I know you’re out there little birdies.” Bane sung, drawing out his steps as he paced the length of the alley. “Why don’t you come out for a little chat?”

He fired another round of bullets, this time up into the sky. Your little brother cast a look at you from your left, you held out a warning hand.

“Nightwing?” You asked into the coms quietly, careful not to draw unwanted attention. Even though Bane was outnumbered 5-1, he was still extremely powerful and if he caught one of you off guard, you would be in some deep shit. 

“We need to wait until he gets to the end of the alley. There’s a fork. We can flank him from both sides.”

The five of you watched intently as he walked, monotonously slow. When he was a mere few steps away from the end of the alley, Nightwing gave the signal and the five of you sprang into action, disguised and protected by the thick plating of your vigilante suits each specified to fit your needs. 

Landing roughly on your feet, you jumped from the building, reading your daggers in front of you. Your brothers formed a circle besides you, trapping bane between the three exits. He grinned manically.

“Finally! I thought I was going to miss out on all the fun.” 

He hoisted his gun up onto his shoulder and eyed the five of you up. The look on his face was mad; cynical. His eyes glistened beneath his mask as they settled on Robin. He fired, releasing a fresh wave of bullets, but the youngest was small and quick enough to slip away, behind a crate. 

With his back turned, Red Robin took his chance to make a move on Bane. He swung his staff in an arc, swiping at the giant's feet in an attempt to knock him to the ground. He wobbled, but spun around and knocked him out of the way, sending him flying into a nearby pile of junk.

“Red!?” You called out through the coms.

There was static as he shuffled around, coughing slightly as he tried to recover from having the wind knocked out from him. “All good.”

You moved next, Robin at your side. Using the walls, you propelled yourself towards Bane, trying to swing your dagger and lodge it anywhere on his exposed chest, only to have to skid across the floor as he swung his arm out to hit you. Although you weren’t successful, Robin had managed to get in a well placed slice along Bane’s torso. He had been aiming for the thick tubes which pumped him full of venom, but he wasn’t so successful. 

The five of you went many rounds with Bane, swinging, slicing and dodging as you tried to get the upper hand on the giant man. Though despite being outnumbered, he had still managed to get his own in on the five vigilanties. Red Hood was suffering a twisted ankle, and Robin had a trickle of blood running down the side of his temple where Bane had managed to strike him.

“Raven!” Nightwing hollered “Flank left.”

You retreated back round the alley with your eldest brother, twisting and navigating in the dinginess to flank him from his other side. When you returned, he had Tim pinned up against a wall, gasping for air and flailing, his feet struggling to scrape against the floor. You picked up your pace, feet slapping against the concrete. You swung, leaping high into the air and bringing your daggers down in a large sweeping motion, it lodged itself in one of Bane’s tubes, staunching the flow of venom pumping into his veins. You rolled across the ground and onto your feet, skidding against the asphalt as you dodged another swing that caught Robin instead. Nightwing was suddenly flanking from Bane’s otherside, cutting off the rest of the venom’s flow. Pulling Robin to his feet, he raised his katana.

With a signal from your brother cracking out over the coms, you gripped your daggers tighter, shifting them into a more comfortable grip in front of you. The humming of Dicks escrima sticks filled the alley. There was a beat, then you all charged, using bane’s weakness to your advantage. He took a large slice across his abdomen and a shock to his body. He roared, releasing a round of bullets into the brick. Dropping like a sack of flour the five of you pressed your body to the ground, trying to dodge the lethal pieces of metal he flung your way. And that was when you felt it, a raw indescribable pain that radiated across your body above your right hip. You stifled a cry, biting your lip beneath the cover of your mask. Your breath shuddered as you rose, trying to ignore the dark red patch that bloomed across the front of your suit. You readied your daggers, trying to conceal the wound with your arm. You were hoping that the cover of the darkness would help disguise it from your brothers. 

From his place on the ground, Jason fired at bane, distracting him from Tim, who swung his bo staff again at his feet, this time bringing him to the ground. Stepping forwards,you pressed your dagger to his neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to get the message across. He howled and grunted as Nightwing and Red Hood made quick work of securing him with rope they had stored on their suits, then delivering a quick blow to his head to render the giant unconscious. 

Nightwing took a step back and sighed, dropping his twin fighting sticks to the ground. “Is everyone ok?”

There was a chortle of agreement between the comms. You sheathed your daggers in the hosters at your hip, groaning as your fingers brushed against the pulsating wound. 

“Call B, tell him we have Bane.”

“Copy.” You said, flicking through the channels on the comms to call your father. He answered gruffly, signifying that he would be on his way on his way over as soon as he could. You heard the rumble of the batmobile in the background. 

“B’s on his way.” You told your brothers, changing the coms back. “He’ll be here soon.”

You glanced down at your stomach, still oozing blood, crossing his arms in front of you, trying to hide the growing patch and keep some pressure on it. You could feel the warm, stickiness against your skin clinging to the fabric of your suit. You couldn’t feel the exit wound, piercing the back of your flesh. Just the thought of the bullet still lodged inside of you made the pain worsen tenfold. You just had to hope that you would get back to the manor in time to stitch yourself up. 

~~~

Left, Right. Left, Right.

You had never been more glad to see the silhouette of the wayne manor, illuminated by the lights from the many windows that had been left on whilst you were out on patrol. You were trudging back slowly with your brothers after finishing up on patrol and ensuring that The Bat had bane secured and was taking him to Arkham. Your steps had grown sluggish, your vision doubled and your breaths uneven as you tried to keep up pace with your brothers, only to end up falling behind anyway. Your whole body ached, but nothing compared to the stabbing pain near your hip. You pulled your hand away from where you had been discreetly keeping pressure on it. Your head spun as you took in the sight of the blood dousing your hands. 

Left, Right…

Not much further now. You told yourself as you forced your body to keep pressing forwards. Home was so close but felt so so far away. You made your shaky legs push on, but with your hazy vision you swayed on your feet. 

Dick turned around, noticing your absence besides him. 

“Raven?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. His panicked tone alerted the rest of the boys. 

You were leaning on a nearby fence, trying to regain your composure.

“I- I’m fine. I just need-” 

Left…

Your body gave out beneath you as you tried to push yourself away from the wall, you were swallowed by a blinding pain; hot and inflamed as you collapsed in on yourself. Jason, the closest to you, rushed forwards before your body could collide with the hard asphalt. He laid you down tenderly so that your head was lying down on his lap. Dick was by your side patting down your body for the hidden injury, followed quickly by the other two.“Raven?” Damien stared at you with wide eyes. 

“Shit.” Dick cursed when his hand skimmed the tear in your suit, pulling it back with his fingers coaxed in your blood. 

You cried out in pain, eyes flying wide. 

Damien gripped your hand tightly, wincing at your pained expression when Jason hastily tore your mask away. He wiped away the tears which stained your cheeks. 

“AH!” Your face twisted when Dick ripped apart the fabric of your suit to get a better look at the wound; circular and ugly, only around the size of a penny, but it was already an angry shade of scarlet and was leaking more blood than you though you had in your body. The fabric which had matted with your blood tugged at your skin. You squeezed Damian’s hand tightly.

“R, what happened?” 

“...Shot.” You forced out. 

Jason reached around the back of your suit searching for an exit wound then cursing loudly when he failed to find one. “It’s still in there.”

Dick cursed. “Okay. Tim?”

The boy looked up meekly. 

“Grab the emergency pack, we’ll need tweezers, bandages. Something for the pain.”

“On it.”

“Damien? Call Alfred, tell him we need help, stat.”

Hesitantly, the Wayne let go of your hands and scrambled to get his phone. Tim was rushing back over with the supplies. 

“Y/N? This is going to hurt okay?”

You nodded feebly, head lolling around in Jason’s lap. 

“Hood, keep her awake.”

Jason took your head in his hands and angled it up to face him. Your eyes were fluttering closed.

“Hey, look at me, keep ‘em open kid.”

Your eyes opened in fraction as you listened to your older brother's words, though you were in a pained daze, only registering the pain in your side.

They would never forget the inhuman scream that pushed its way past your lips as Dick dig the tweezers into the wound. The pain was indescribable as your fingers clawed against the ground. You writhed in Jason’s hold, squirming away from the onslaught of pain. Dick cringed. 

“Tim, keep her still.”

His hands were like cold vices on your arms as he pinned you down, trying to keep you still as his older brother rummaged through your body. Your screams had morphed into horse shouts by the time he finally got the bullet out. But then came the burst of agony as he pushed his hands down as hard as he could on your wound. You whimpered.

“I know. I know Y/N I’m sorry.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you began to lose a grip on consciousness. Black dots danced in your vision.

“Hey. Stay with us!” Tim patted your face. “We need to move fast.

Jason leaned you up against his chest so his brothers could wrap the bandages tightly around your stomach. Damien had returned, informing them that Alfred was on his way. Once the bandages were secured, you were laid back down in Jason's chest, eyes fluttering. Damien returned to holding your hands, rubbing his thumbs back and forth across the flat of your hand. 

“Stay awake, Raven. Talk to us.” Tim prompted.

You were silent for a horrifying moment, before muttering out a few words. “...I’m sorry.”

“No. None of that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“I love you all.”

Your breaths were becoming shallower and you struggled to get the air you needed into your lungs. The black spots began to take over your vision. 

“We love you too, Y/N. So, so much.”

You hummed contently. Your body had begun to go numb. 

A dear ran down Damien’s cheek. You reached up to wipe it away as your older brother had done to you mere minutes ago.

“It’s okay.” You hushed. “It doesn’t hurt bad anymore.”

The two eldest vigilantes swallowed thickly, sharing a wide eyed glance between each other. That was when Alfred turned up, and the next minutes went by in a blur. The boys could do nothing more than watch as they whisked you away into surgery, praying that you would pull through. 

~~~

Dick watched as you began to stir. Your face twitched and you shifted uncomfortably. He had his much larger hand wrapped around yours, and had done for a few hours, insisting that he stay with you. You were his baby sister after all. Bruce had tried to send the other to bed, but like Dick, Jason had insisted that he should be allowed to watch over you too. Bruce was about to protest, but he couldn’t dismiss the distraught look plastered on Jason’s face. He had no doubt that the youngest two were lingering around somewhere, minds too full of opposing thoughts to let them succumb to the sleep that their bodies begged them for. Damian had kept trying to sneak in before being dragged away by Bruce. 

The room had been silent for a few hours as they watched your chest rise and fall. The surgery had been hard on your body, and for a while no one was sure that you were going to pull through. Albeit there you were lying pale but showing signs of waking up, on your bed.

  Alfred and Bruce were frequently in and out of your room where you lay hooked up to all sorts of machines that made Jason cringe. His head was resting on the side of your bed by the hand that Dick wasn’t nursing. His eyes had begun to droop shut as the early hours of the day crept around, when you shifted the let out a pained whimper. When he turned his head, he was greeted by your striking eyes. 

He scrambled off of the floor and into the chair that had been pulled up by your bed. “Y/N? Hey.”

“Boys?” You blinked, your head still groggy from the anaesthesia.

The eldest boy gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah kiddo. We’re here.”

Trying to sit up, the tug on your stitches elicited another cry of pain. Instinctively, both boys helped you sit up. 

“Take it easy, little bat.” Dick told you as you gingerly pushed back the sheets. Your hip was bound tightly in a white bandage. “He got you good.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jay pressed. “You could have…”

“I-”

You were cut off by the sound of the door shuddering open and a pair of your ‘not so little anymore’ brothers' heads peeking around it. They were hesitant, glancing around the room until you gave them a gentle smile.

“Y/N,” Damian rushed into the room, wrapping you tightly into a hug. 

“Hey Dami.” You murmured into his ear. 

He was suddenly ripped away from you by a grinning Tim who chided “Hey, be careful with her, you demon spawn. It’s my turn.”

You chuckled as he pulled you desperately into his arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay Y/N/N. I was so scared.”

You frowned, hoarse voice breaking as you spoke. “I’m sorry-”

“Damian.” A haggard voice sounded from somewhere in the hallway. It was followed by a pair of heavy set shoes. “How many times do I have to tell you to get back in bed-”

Bruce stopped abruptly at the sight of his children crowded before him. His eyes were clad with dark bags and his hair was unkempt on his head. 

“Hi Dad.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it nonetheless. Pushing past his sons, he was at your side in less than a second. 

And that was when the reality of the whole situation hit you. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Dad. I’m sorry. I- I wasn’t thinking.”

“Shh.” He hushed. “This isn’t your fault. This is no one’s fault but Bane’s.”

“But-”

“Listen to the old man for once little bat. All that matters is that everyone is still together.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY THREE ⛤ DAY FIVE ->

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@senjoritanana

[takes1]

p. 4 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

thank you so much @v15aexe for giving me that suggestion! i tried my best to honor it and make it feel as organic as possible! and thanks to everyone who's supported this little series :) next part should be heavy nsfw. lmk if ya'll want any other series/characters in my requests

warnings. sfw somehow again idk how this keeps happening to me. minors DNI

details. sfw? / build-up to nsfw / PDA / during: training camp arc / first kiss / jealous!tsukki / stupidshima / needyshima / suggestive petting / kuroo rizz / hand holding / unspoken feelings / communication / obsessed tanaka/nishinoya / 2k words

🤍 kei series. part one / part two / part three / final part / reply and get added to the taglist to get notifs for the last part!

more links. my ao3, my other stuff. request box. haikyuu collection

Tsukishima couldn't believe that it was so dark outside when he left the gym. This training camp would be the death of him.

Dreary and a bit dehydrated, he stepped to the doorway and looked at the surrounding gym-trailers, envious of all the ones that were dark and unoccupied.

His eyes naturally landed on one that was still in-use, though.

Kuroo, who had left early for unspecified reasons, was chatting you up with an unmistakable rizz charisma at the entrance.

You (the now-specified reason) looked downright delighted to be talking to him.

Tsukishima bit the inside of his cheek, heart racing, and barely noticed Bokuto's heavy shoulder slap on the way out of their gym.

"Yeah," He gave a half-cocked, hardly engaged smile and it fell right away.

Bokuto looked over his shoulder for a moment with a confused look- he said nothing to warrant a 'yeah,' but the thousand-yard stare across the kid's face was enough for even him to understand it was out of his paygrade to pry. He continued walking back to his own lodging, quickly becoming absentminded once more.

His immediate reaction at this discomfort was to roll his eyes, put his shoes on, and step out onto the concrete, facing the way back.

Your sweet laugh rang in his ears as he did this.

He looked back, and the older, better in now every way version of himself was brimming with pride that you found him funny.

His dignity couldn't take another beating today. He'd never be able to look you in the eye if he let this one go.

A newfound swiftness in his legs carried him three trailers down to where the light was pouring out into the dark night, blocked only by now: three shadows.

"-that was real sexy-- U-hum, admirable when you told your team off like that today," His fake 'slip-up' had you blushing from ear to ear, hands folded neatly in front of you.

The sly way he lowered his voice to just above a mutter was reminiscent of pillow-talk. He was undeniably smooth and radiated confidence. Even the successfully casual manner in which he leaned against the doorway to both get closer to you and to come across as more conversational.

You corrected him, pushing down his hand; he was about move some of your hair, so you moved it yourself.

You were keeping a polite distance both physically and verbally, "If this is your way of getting intel, you'd be barking up the wrong tree."

Unfazed, he took your hand in his effortlessly, "The only intel I need is your number."

When you took a breath to deny him that for the fourth time, you jumped at Tsukishima's haunted appearance just coming into the light.

Kuroo looked back and nearly jumped out of his skin with an uncool yelp- he quickly covered it with a, "Fuck--! Four-Eyes! You scared the absolute shit out of me."

He caught his breath, holding his chest, "You look like a damn ghost."

You laughed, sharing an entertained glance with Tsukishima, but saw that he was much less delighted to be standing there.

He crafted something on the spot, monotone and sounding just as disinterested as usual, "Coach needs you back at the dorm. It's getting late."

"Oh," You threw a look back to Hinata and Kageyama, who were still practicing, "I was just making sure these two got back in one piece. And- at a decent... time."

You checked your watch and realized it wasn't exactly a decent time anymore.

As you called out to the two still inside, Tsukishima and Kuroo stood in front of each other and crossed their arms with identical scowls.

Kuroo knew that face well. He'd seen it many times with other guys. The 'Go Away, Stop Talking to Her' stare. But he'd place good money on the fact that Tsukishima didn't even know it was a thing.

Even though he was just a freshman, and even though you were too damn good-looking to be Karasuno's manager, and even though he scared him- he took pity on him.

So he let up, but not without one last punch.

"I hope Bokuto grilled you enough while I was gone," He smirked, "You'll need to step it up for tomorrow's match, Tsukki."

There was a slight drop from the gym to the concrete. Tsukishima held his hand out for you to hop down with, and with a look he didn't return, you decided to take it and fixed your shoes.

"I plan to."

You felt a chill between them and had zero desire to intervene. Kuroo seemed to give a subtle, proud smile.

"Good."

The walk back was dead silent. It was slowly suffocating you, nagging at you like flies to just say something about what happened between you.

The pace wasn't fast, but it wasn't slow. And the accommodated lodging wasn't too far off from the lined-up gyms, so you both felt the opportunity growing smaller and smaller.

"It's nice seeing you stay for solo practice."

He said nothing.

"And- you've been getting better."

He scoffed, "Tell me that when we're not hitting penalty sprints after every match."

You smiled. It was quiet again.

"I will."

He looked down at you, brows raised, softer now. He realized how mean he sounded and couldn't take it back. There were a lot of things he couldn't take back.

That feeling helped him not shut down your candid question.

"So, what was that? Back there?"

His response was careful and slow. You were waiting on your toes for each following word.

"I guess-... I'm- surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"That you'd-- entertain that. You're not the type."

"You should be more careful putting girls in boxes, Tsukki-" The nickname just slipped out. You felt your face get warmer.

He stayed silent, though. You couldn't read him no matter how hard you tried.

You continued, treading lightly, "I... I don't know, it is nice being fawned over. It's flattering, at least."

The "Yeah," he choked out sounded like he'd gotten stabbed through the middle with a serrated knife- and you just twisted it.

"Much easier than having to deal with some jackass that doesn't know how to talk to me."

A surprised half-laugh, half-scoff left his lips at your brash comment.

"Really." He rolled his eyes, heart sinking, and regretting just about every moment between you. Especially that out-of-body shit he pulled back there.

"But," You leaned to look at him and found it nearly impossible.

He was staring at the sky. He really did look in pain.

"I wouldn't say I prefer it," A smile crept over your lips, a small laugh at how absurd your own words sounded, "It's not interesting enough."

His Adam's apple bobbed and his jaw worked. He was already at rock-bottom, so there was nothing to hide.

Another sigh-laced response, "What... would you prefer?"

The shared dormitories were approaching closer. You began to mosey, your footfalls with more time between them, smaller distance, in the hopes that you could steal more time alone. It was such a warm night and you were craving to get under a fan, but sweating out in this muggy, paved path had steady-growing appeal.

"Tall," You started to list, struggling to keep a nervous, yet amused grin down, "Blond,"

He finally looked down at you.

His eyes were glossy under his glasses. There was no such smile on his face, but his chest rose and fell faster.

"Intelligent, but-," You stopped and he followed your lead without a moment's hesitation. The pause felt right because now, the street light next to your housing was setting between you in a warm, flickering glow, "Somehow incredibly stupid."

An unfiltered laugh broke his melancholic silence and it was the most beautiful sound you could've asked for.

"Mean," You felt inclined to include through his bout of relieved laughter, "But- secretly really thoughtful, and sweet. And a really cute laugh."

You giggled with him, giddy and incredibly apprehensive as you took his hand. He laced his fingers through yours and your tummy started to dance with a billion butterflies.

Another tentative, gentle hand found its rightful place on your waist.

"I'm sorry," He muttered, "About... everything."

Crystal clear feelings of guilt flashed across his face, despite holding you, your admission, and his reparations today. His insecurities really did manage to worm their way back in.

"I thought it was pretty clear that I forgave you," You grinned, squinting up at him, "But since you're so stupid-,"

He smiled and looked away, shy.

"I guess I have to tell you directly that," You grabbed his chin to force him look at you, "I forgive you."

Those eyes were beyond complex. His charged, but needy stare sent a shiver down your spine and made your knees so weak that you were appreciative he pulled you closer to his chest.

You knew he didn't know how to kiss.

So you made the first move- a soft hand to the side of his face to guide him down, and a gentle, barely-there, slow peck. He started to kiss back, but it was over before he got the proper chance to try.

"One more," He breathed, the tiniest smirk covering a bottomless desire for you.

He could hardly form a kiss through his smiling, you weren't sure if he was really even trying on the second time he asked for another.

You leaned up for a third, hand at last unlacing from his, and slid to the base of his neck for a subtle pull for control. A deeper, much better kiss ensued as the result of this direction.

That unsure hand on your waist gripped harder with growing certainty- his thumb wrapped forward around your hip and squeezed, sending a shock throughout your body that left you tugging at the roots of his hair.

"Mmn," You buzzed against him and, a bit breathless, sucked a small, red spot to his jaw when you couldn't keep kissing him anymore.

"Ye-ah-" You seethed, brow knotted, "We can't do this here."

He was panting at the loss of your touch and your pretty voice. He nodded dumbly but didn't move.

You carefully guided his hand off of yours, holding it for a moment, and smiled at his dazed expression for all it was worth.

Your timing couldn't have been better. Just as you climbed the first steps to get into the building, Tanaka burst through the door in a fury.

"(Y/N)!! Where were you?! I'vebeenworriedsick!" He cried, only just barely drowning out the rapid, thundering of footsteps (interrupted only briefly with a crash and resulting shout) from your other personal fan, Nishinoya, who burst through the door in an identical fashion-- "Thank GOD!"

They both collapsed against you, not even giving you the chance to register their incessant noise.

"Jesus," You wheezed at the absurd weight of them both.

Tsukishima went completely unseen for the second time that night.

"Get off, both of you!" Daichi's disembodied, reprimanding voice called from upstairs. He certainly couldn't see them, so he must've just known.

With great, exaggerated labor, they did as told, but didn't drop the subject.

"You've never been out so late before!" Nishinoya exclaimed, taking both of your hands in his with big, dinner-plate eyes. It was only 9:30.

"Well, you have Tsukki to thank for getting me back safely," You joked, much quieter than them, heart light on the heels of a good kiss and in the company of good friends.

They looked around before spotting him, generating an amused smile on your face, and shook both of his hands at the same time, thanking him many times for his service.

"He saved me from Kuroo," You added with a playful glance back to Tsukishima, now free to walk in with them out of the way.

Now he was the one bombarded with questions as you slipped your shoes off in the doorway.

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this has been so nice writing! thank ya'll for the support! drop any suggestions for other characters or series you'd want to see in my requests!

@hotvinimon @cyzvx @aloveablechaos @kozumesphone

@beaniedoodz @idiotboys @djmoyolehuani @ilovemymomscooking

@imiqz @vierciale

[dixons-sunshine]

All The Love | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Daryl loved tucking his daughter into bed. It was the perfect time for him to bond with her on a deeper level. While reading to her, she tells him something he hadn't heard from her yet, making him very emotional.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.1k.

A/n: Based on this post by @louifaith. This was pretty rushed because I'm tired and have a small headache, but I hope you like this nonetheless!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“And as the weddin' bells chimed, the prince and his bride walked down the aisle, hand in hand, wavin' to the people who had come from far and wide to witness the unification of their love. As the happy couple descended down the grand staircase, the former king watched his son, notin' the happy smile on his face, and knew that the future king had made the right decision; he had chosen love above everythin' else, and tha' was wha's important.”

“What's a wedding, Daddy?” Hazel questioned, sleepily gazing up at Daryl through half lidded eyes.

Daryl looked up from the book and gave his four-year old daughter a small smile, reaching forward to gently push the hair away from her face. “A weddin' is somethin' tha' two people who love each other very much plan. S'so tha' they can make a promise to always stay with each other, so tha' their friends and family can see 'em pledge their love to one another.”

“Like you and Mama?”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yer mama and I didn't have a proper weddin'. We only had a weddin' between us in our bedroom. Our family found out 'bout it the next day.”

Hazel nodded slowly, trying to fully grasp what her father was telling her. “So you don't have to have a wedding if you don't want to?”

Daryl nodded. “Exactly.”

“What about me, Daddy?” Hazel asked again, staring up at Daryl in curiosity. “Do I have to plan a wedding for me one day?.”

“Hopefully not,” Daryl muttered to himself, before shaking his head and plastering another smile onto his face. “Only if ya want, Hazelnut. S'not mandatory.” He reached for the covers and drew it over her body, tucking her in tightly. “Now c'mon, ya lil' gremlin. S'time fer bed.”

Daryl leaned forward to place a kiss on Hazel's forehead. However, Hazel took Daryl's face in her small, chubby hands and rubbed the tip of her nose against his for a nose kiss. Daryl smiled and returned the small, tender gesture, waiting for Hazel to pull back first.

“I love you, Daddy,” Hazel told Daryl, finally letting go of his face to rest her head back against her pillow.

Daryl froze for a moment, not believing his ears, before snapping out of it and sending her a small smile. “I love ya more, Hazelnut. Try and get some rest, alrigh'? We'll play again in the mornin'.”

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Hazel greeted Daryl sleepily, turning over on her side and closing her eyes.

“Nigh', Hazelnut.”

Daryl stood up from the bed and walked out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him. In a daze, Daryl walked through the short hallway and into the room he shared with you. Once inside, he closed the door and stood unmoving for a few moments, simply staring ahead at where you sat.

Looking up from your book, you sent Daryl a small, inviting smile. However, your smile vanished when you saw the tears that prickled at the corners of your husband's eyes, your heart dropping at the sight.

“Baby, what's wrong?” you asked hurriedly, setting your book aside.

Daryl's eyes met yours. He shook his head, desperately trying to gather his racing thoughts. “I dun'—Hazel, she—she—”

“Come here,” you cut him off softly, motioning for him to come closer.

Without needing any further persuading, Daryl moved forward and practically collapsed on top of you, but he made sure not to crush you under his body weight. He settled himself against you, comfortably resting his head on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, bringing one hand to gently thread through his hair. That's all it took for Daryl to fully break down.

You pressed a tender kiss to the top of his head, whispering sweet, reassuring nothings into his hair. Daryl cried into your shirt, gripping it tightly to try and anchor himself back down to reality. His mind was racing at a million miles a second, with no sign of stopping in the near future.

“Shh, it's okay, Baby. I got you. I got you,” you whispered sweetly, holding your husband tightly.

A few minutes passed with you holding the man that you loved, allowing him to cry into your shirt for reasons you didn't know of yet. When Daryl finally managed to calm his cries down to sniffles, you gently scratched his scalp, gazing down at him in concern.

“Daryl—”

“M'alrigh',” Daryl hiccupped, burying his head deeper into your chest. “I jus' overreacted, s'all.”

“No, none of that,” you chastised, clicking your tongue in dissatisfaction. “What's got you so upset, love?”

“M'not upset,” Daryl corrected you, lifting his head to gaze up into your eyes. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Then what is it?” you gently urged, cupping your husband's cheek in your hand. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I jus'... Hazel told me she loves me. She ain't ever explicitly told me tha' before,” Daryl explained, his grip on your shirt tightening. “S'so surreal to me. It was unexpected. I can't believe tha' someone so perfect, someone tha' I helped make, can love me, yet she does. She told me tha' herself.”

“Baby,” you laughed softly, a smile on your face. “Of course she loves you. Our daughter adores you, Daryl. She might love you more than she loves me, but I'm okay with that. You deserve all the love in the world, and we're gonna give it to you. We'll always love you.”

Daryl could feel a lump form in his throat again, but he swallowed it down. He smiled at you softly, his heart swelling with love. He let one of his hands drift down to your stomach, rubbing at the small bump that had started to form there.

“Even this lil' bean?” Daryl asked rhetorically, sending you a playful smile. He knew exactly what your answer was going to be, but it was always nice to have that little bit of reassurance.

You rolled your eyes affectionately and nodded. “Especially this little bean. It's impossible not to love you, Daryl. You're amazing.”

“Nah, yer the amazin' one. Ya and our lil' girl.” Daryl stopped for a beat before continuing. “I love ya, peach.”

You smiled fondly. “I love you too, Daryl. More than you can ever know.”

Daryl lowered his head down to your stomach, placing a soft kiss over the clothed skin. “And I love ya too, lil' one. I can't wait to meet ya.”

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader argue about their next steps

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this is a combination of a few asks and takes place pre-OBX season 3. warning for some angst + arguing

Y/n ended her call with her manager Morgan with a sigh. It was a conversation she had been dreading, but she also knew was inevitable with the direction her career (and character on OBX) was moving. She had been dropping hints to Drew that her contract with OBX was ending, that she wanted to move onto some different projects, Caroline’s character arc was coming to a close…

“Hey, baby.” Drew smiled as y/n walked into their living room. He was sprawled out on the couch, his limbs propped on the ottoman and Charleston curled up at his side. Y/n smiled lightly at him, the grin not quite reaching her eyes in a way that made Drew’s brain sound off with bells and whistles.

“Um, I just got off the phone with Morgan,” y/n said quietly, Drew leaning in intently as she spoke, “and I don’t think I’m going to be renewing my contract for OBX.”

Drew’s face dropped, his eyes blinking rapidly as he stared at her in a stunned silence.

“W–what?” Drew said incredulously. Y/n sighed, running a shaking hand through her hair. Whether or not either of them cared to admit it, Outer Banks and shooting together was a big aspect of their relationship. Hell, it was how they met and how they spent months of the year practically inseparable on set.

“I– I just…” y/n swallowed harshly, “I want to try new things and I don’t want to feel tied down to—”

“‘Tied down’? Is that really how you feel?” Drew scoffed, shaking his head at her words.

“Drew, you know I don’t mean it like that.” Y/n sighed, her hand resting on Drew’s tensed shoulder.

“What do you mean, then?” Drew said. “‘Cause I’m trying to understand and it just sounds like you think the show’s a burden and—”

“I didn’t say that.” Y/n said sharply. “I love the show and working with the cast— and working with you— but I just… it’s time for me to move on.”

“But I’m still stuck on this— what, this shitty, teenaged Netflix show? I can’t move on?” Drew shook his head. It was hard to not take it so personally when the show had given them so much, and for her to just leave like that… it hurt.

“This has nothing to do with how I think of you or your acting or career. You know you’re… a lot more important to the show than I am and you have a much more challenging role and—” y/n ran hand down her face with a sigh, “—this is 100% only to do with me and my career and my future.”

“But what about our future?” Drew said. “I just… don’t you think this is going to change things between us?”

“But it doesn’t have to. It doesn’t have to change anything.” Y/n said, taking Drew’s hand. His eyes closed, Drew ran his hand through his hair with a deep sigh.

“This is… this is really what you want?” Drew whispered, his thumb brushing along the back of y/n’s hand lightly.

“I think it’s the right step.” Y/n said quietly. Drew chewed on his bottom lip, mulling over his racing thoughts and questions before his gaze finally lifted to meet y/n’s. She could see a glint of sadness in his eyes, a recognition that the unique bond of the show would be changing.

“I don’t want you to think I didn’t think about us when I was making this decision.” Y/n whispered, squeezing Drew’s hand lightly. Drew nodded, squeezing her hand back.

“If this is what you think is best, then I support you.” Drew said. Y/n let out a sigh of relief, cupping the side of Drew’s face as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel forgotten or—” Y/n began, but Drew cut her off, kissing her forehead chastely.

“I’m sorry for freaking out, it's just… I can’t imagine the show without you and it just scared me to think about it.” Drew said lowly. Y/n frowned, to which Drew shook his head, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. Her arms snaked around his torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles under her fingertips and hearing the thrum of his heart in her ear.

“We’ll figure it out, ok? I love you and we’ll figure it out.” Drew said simply. Y/n, squeeze him tighter.

“I love you. Thank you for supporting me, Drew. Really.” Y/n whispered.