#I had no idea to what to do with their outfits

[mwahsol]

I see you

Description: You are obvious about your feelings towards her. Recently her most recent “fling” dumps her claiming that all she can talk about is you, every topic you are somehow in some way mentioned. Paige being confused doesn't understand what she's talking about, you are just her friend right? The more she thinks about it, the more she starts questioning your “friendship.” One night while hanging out with your guys teammates everything comes crashing down. 

Since tomorrow is my birthday I've decided to be nice and come back from the dead :) also, WHY IS IT SO HARD TO HAVE MOTIVATION TO WRITE EVEN THOUGH I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS. Anyways enjoy babe.....

Since the first time you had laid your eyes upon her, you knew you would fall in love with her. How could you not love her, when you first got recruited you were nervous that you wouldn't get along with the team seeing as how you were naturally more reserved but as soon as you entered that gym Paige instantly welcomed you with open arms. She broke down all of your walls and you slowly but surely became closer with everyone, she brought you out of your shell. Whenever you needed a partner during practice she was instantly at your side touching you in some way showing her eagerness to play with you, right by your side. When she couldn't sleep she would beeline to your room, she would crawl right in next to you on your bed seeing if you wanted to go somewhere with her or wanted to keep sleeping. To you it didn't matter what you did, you just wanted to be with her, so if she wanted to go shoot around at 2 am or sleep next to you and listen to your podcasts with you, without a doubt, you would do it. At first, you genuinely believed that this was how best friends were, you just loved her. After your first year, you slowly started to realize that you fell in love with Paige Bueckers. Maybe she could love you too, right?

After three years on the team and two years being in love with her, you started dropping hints throughout of your feelings but she never noticed. You watched her hold others the way you would dream of being held by her, you saw how she would wrap her hands around their waists, how she would lean down to whisper into their ears about how beautiful they looked that night. How could she not notice that you spent hours getting ready to feel pretty for yourself but a part of you wanted Paige to tell you that she thought you looked beautiful. All of the girls she would hold always seemed completely different to you, you would compare yourself to them. You couldn't be mad though they weren't at fault, how could they have known that you would give anything for Paige to look at you how she looked at them? Selfishly you would always wonder why them. Why not you?

You watched her kiss them. Paige has never been shy about affection, so to her kissing girls while her teammates were near has never been a problem. Unfortunately, you always seemed to look at her when she was kissing them like her life depended on them. The way she would bring their hips near hers, her hands holding their jaws gently, how she would smile into their kiss knowing they enjoyed it. You saw it all. You could only watch with envy in your eyes, you prayed countless times that she would kiss you like you were oxygen. As soon as you saw their kiss you would turn away and go to one of your teammates and cry to them. They all knew about your love for the blue-eyed blonde, they could all see how you looked at her like she hung the constellations in the sky, they saw all the tears you would shed for her, they saw everything Paige didn't. How could they see if but she just didn't.

All you could do was watch as Paige would run around the door asking everyone if her outfit was good enough for a date, she always comes to you first. Why does she have to torture you more. Why does she have to taunt you. In all fairness, she didn't know that every time she would come and excitedly tell you about how she asked a girl out on a date, it would eat you alive. You felt like you couldn't breathe every time you imagined what their date was like. Would it be how you always envisioned your dates with her? If you told her you loved her would it change anything? Would she drop everything and tell you she has been in love with you too?

As the clock shows 2:16 am, you get up giving up on trying to go to bed. Sliping into your bunny slippers you walk to Azzi’s room, you know she's most likely asleep but maybe she's up watching a Netflix show or something. To your luck you're right.

“Hey bun, couldn't sleep?” She asks knowing why but she'll let you rant.

“Nope my brain won't shut off,” you say as you take off your slippers to climb into bed with her. Slipping yourself into her side, making her arm drape over your shoulders while you hug her midsection you can hear her hum.

“Why? Wanna talk about it?” If Azzi was honest with herself she was shocked Paige hadn't noticed that you have worshiped the ground she walks on.

“Just thinking about all the stuff with P.” Since she left for her date at 9 it's been all you could think about, you will end up driving yourself crazy by how much you think about her on dates that aren't with you.

“You know all that thinking will make your head even bigger than it already is,” she giggles as you look at her with fake offense and shove her gently but when you both stop laughing she softly says, “Bun you both are some of my closest friends but maybe you should try out dating too, see what's out there.”

Her words echo through your head, since you started playing at Uconn you never really dated. Your main focus has always been playing and your academics, then the realization of your feelings for your blond teammate happened and that shut the door of dating for you. You never even thought about dating anyone that wasn't Paige, you knew no matter who it was they wouldn't compare. Their laugh wouldn't be hers, the way their hands would touch you wouldn't be the warm hands of the blue-eyed player, their lips wouldn’t be the ones you dreamt about, they wouldn't be Paige. It wouldn't be fair to give someone else hope of a future with you when your future slept right next to you most nights. Your heart would never be theirs, your heart will be on the court with her.

“I don't know if I could even act like I could see something with them,” when Azzi hears the sadness in your voice she can't help but want to call Paige and yell at her about how blind she is. “You don't have to see it anymore than as a casual date, find someone you think is cute then go for it, or next time someone asks you say yes.”

When you go to say that wouldn't know where to start she cuts you off. “And don't you dare say you don't know who because I've seen multiple boys and girls ask you out but you always say no. Just go on one then see how you feel about it bun.” She says teasing but also encouraging you to get outside of your bubble a bit, maybe you'll find a way to be ok with Paige not reciprocating your feelings. Maybe.

“You guys won't ever let the bun name go huh?” You ask hoping to change the subject.

“As long as you wear those slippers I don't think so, they're cute though,” she hopes you give it some thought though, she and everyone hate seeing you heartbroken. Maybe just maybe this way Paige could see what everyone else sees.

While you fall asleep you can't help but think that maybe it's a good idea.

By the time Paige gets home it's almost 4 am. Her heads was killing her from all the arguing she and her most recent “fling” were having. She wanted to come home earlier but as soon as she heard your name be brought up negatively she instantly started arguing till her throat was sore. As she unlocked the front door she knew she wanted to see you, when she opened your door and saw your empty bed her heart stopped. Where did you go? As she pulls out her phone to check Life360 she sees that your location is here at the dorm.

“She's sleeping in my bed.” Paige flinches not expecting anyone else to be awake much less Azzi.

“Why?” She doesn't know why but knowing that you're not in your bed makes her uneasy, but you being in someone else's bed that isn't hers makes her skin crawl. Why? She's never had a problem with it before? It could be that even when you would sleep in someone else's bed besides hers she would still be laying next to you bothering whoever's bed you both lay on. No that couldn't be it, right? She wasn't jealous.

“Couldn't sleep.” Azzi knows the blonde like the back of her hand. Why couldn't Paige figure out that she was in love with you too.

Whenever Paige held someone she almost had to force herself to. The feeling of them close to her made her feel wrong but she took it as maybe she lost feeling for them so she would cut them off, find someone else, and the cycle repeated. Anytime she would compliment the girls she would be seeing she would only compliment things that reminded her of you. When she would kiss them she would allow herself to pretend they were you, desperately pulling them into her grasping at the image of you being the one she was kissing instead, feeling herself smile at the daydream of you. When she would feel eyes on her she would pull away from the kiss seeing you walking towards the team, why did her heart hurt, why did she feel guilty that you saw her kissing someone? She's never had a problem kissing anyone in front of her team but when you would look all she wanted to do was wipe her lips and try to explain things to you, but explain what, you both were friends. When she would dress up for dates she would come to you first wanting to hear your opinion on how she looked, she would always seek approval from you first. But you were both just friends, right? Right. She's just overthinking.

“Oh ok, I'll just go to bed then.” With a small nod, Paige turns to go to her room until Azzi opens her mouth.

“Why were you looking for her?” Come on P, say something Azzi can't help but want to get a reaction out of her so maybe she could also see how in love she is with you. Hoping to push her best friend to see her true feelings maybe.

“Just wanted to check up on her you know,” Paige can't see it, yet.

“Ok see you in the morning P,” Azzi says a bit disappointed but knowing Paige will think about it. “Mhm, nigh Az.”

Since that encounter with Azzi, Paige has noticed that you slowly started distancing yourself from her. Maybe she was overthinking but what other explanation could there be? At practice, things seemed tense. You would partner up with Aubrey or anyone else before she could even make her way to you. When she would try to come into bed with you she started noticing that you weren't home when you usually would be in bed. Sometimes she would notice that you would come home far later than you ever have, where were you spending your time? At times she would see you right as you were leaving but you were always dressed up. In heals? Makeup and hair done almost always. You’ve always been beautiful to her no matter if you were dripping in sweat or in a fancy dress but she knows you, you don't get dressed up unless you are going out with the team, and you don't go out much enjoying being home and relaxing after practice, she couldn't find any reasons as to why you were almost every night out.

Why didn't you talk to her? Why wouldn't you even glance at her? Why does her heat physically feel like it's breaking when she thinks of you? And why did she hear you talking to a girl over the phone one day as you were getting ready? Why did she ask you if you were almost done because she was outside? Why?

Paige was going crazy without answers. She was going crazy without you.

One night the team decided to have a movie night and order a bunch of junk food to relax and spend time together. Feeling a bit guilty that you already had plans with a girl you were casually seeing you told all the girls you wouldn't be there but you would make it up to them, you told all except one. Paige, you physically couldn't bring yourself to tell her about your date. You know even after all of your dates and trying to expand outside of your friendships you were right, no one amounted to Paige. No one held a candle to her. You felt stupid that you kept distancing yourself when all you wanted was to be next to her again. You couldn't keep watching her anymore, you didn't have it in you to watch her give everything you've ever wanted from her to others. So when practice ended you rushed home to get ready to go out.

As all of the girls were setting up and bringing in the food Paige couldn't help but notice that you were missing. Looking around from her spot on the couch, next to her was your spot she had been saving it hoping that maybe tonight she could get you to sit next to her, all of the girls started to get on the couch and/or their place on the floor. She had almost argued with Jana as she had sat in “your” spot. Seeing as you hadn't told Paige about your plans, KK opens her mouth ready to tell her that you weren't joining but as you come out of your room all dressed up in a dark purple mini dress, a black pair of heals, silver jewelry stacked on your arms and neck, your skin glowing with body glitter, your hair curled, and makeup that complimented your features she feels the world stop. You looked enchanting. If she were standing up she's sure that she would fall to her knees right then and there. She couldn't help but wonder why you were dressed up though, you were all staying in no?

All of your teammates freak out jumping on you and telling you how pretty you look. “Girl oh my give me a spin,” Nike hypes you up holding your arm up and letting you give them all a 360. “Y/n you know I'm single currently,” Kayla jokingly flirts back. “Oh my, bun you look gorgeous,” Azzi adds knowing this might wake Paige up. As the rest of the girls gush over you Paige can't seem to get up, she was in a trance as soon as she saw you. You in her favorite color might be one of the most beautiful things she has ever seen in her entire life.

“Ok ok guys I need to head out, they're waiting for me downstairs,” you let out laughing at their antics.

You're leaving?

“Bye guys I'll try to be home soon,” as the door shuts Paige can feel herself go numb.

“Where is she going?” She asks scared that she might know the answer. They can all see her shut down, they can't help but feel guilty for her but also happy for you that you're trying new things. No one has the heart to tell her the truth until Azzi looks at her and tells her the hard truth, “She's going on a date.”

When those words leave Aizz’s mouth she feels like she's about to throw up. Is it true? All those times she saw you dressed up you were going to see someone? She feels like she can't breathe but she has to look, she has to look at their faces to see if it's true. As her head rises to look at them they can all see the tears in her eyes, almost like instant deja vu they see your eyes looking back at them. They have been here before but with a different teammate crying over the other. It's almost poetic how similar your eyes seem when you cry over each other in front of them.

“P why are you crying?” KK is the one to ask to test out if her friend finally understands her feelings for you. They knew that they couldn't tell her, she's too stubborn to listen to them, she had to be the one to realize her feelings.

Paige finally understood.

“She won't even look at me. When I walk into her room and she's not there I lay in her bed hoping to catch her when she comes back. She won't even play with me. I can hear her talking to someone but I don't want it to be someone she is seeing. I don't understand what I did to make her mad at me,” as she rambled on Azzi couldn't help but feel a bit responsible but also not. She gave you unbiased advice, she wouldn't take it back.

“Paige that night I caught you looking for her, why did you come home late? Why was she the first person you looked for,” come on Paige see what's right in front of you they all think.

Paige can't stop the tears from coming. She knows her voice will come out shaky but it's now or never, “I went out with that girl from the soccer team and I thought the date was going great till we went back to watch a movie at hers and she blew up. She stalked yelling at me that the whole night I kept talking about Y/n and how at first she thought it was sweet that I had a close friendship with her but after talking about her only, that I act like I'm in love with her. At first I honestly just planned to walk out but then she started insulting her and I just couldn't keep my mouth shut, how could she talk badly about her? She didn't even do anything wrong,” while the team listened to Paige they gave each other a look knowing that she does talk about you any chance she gets. How did she still not see it?

“And when I got home I just wanted to sleep with her but she wasn't there, I started to panic but I saw that her location was still here then Az said that she was with her and all I could do was go to my bed.” She explains not knowing what's going on.

“Paige can you really not see it?” Ice asks trying to see if it finally clicks for the blonde.

“What?” Why are they all looking at her like she should know something. Could it be? No right? If she says the words. If she asks, she can't take it back. Maybe just maybe.

All of your memories together float through her brain. Your eyes that shine like stars when you look at her, your hair that smells like coconut from your shampoo, you're eyelashes that lay over your cheeks as you sleep, your nose that gets red when you get cold, your lips that she catches herself staring at thinking about what it would be like to feel them on hers, your laugh that is like music to her ears, your voice that is like a siren song to her, your hands that fit in hers perfectly, your chest that she lays her head on to hear your heartbeat, your legs that wrap around her when she picks you up, every single thing about you she worships. Her waking you up at 2 am to go hoop with her and you not even thinking twice before getting dressed, late night ice cream when you both just want to be together, you both saving each other seats never wanting to be too far apart, the dumb bunny slippers that she got you that you now rarely take off, the way you both climb into each other's beds and just lay together. You're everything, you are what she looks forward to every day, you waking her up to pancakes with coffee, her watching your angelic face while you sleep. Paige Madison Bueckers is in love with you, a girl who is on a date with someone else in her favorite color.

“I love her, I’m in love with her,” she mumbles out in awe.

“Yeah, you are,” Kayla states what everyone is thinking, but what will she do now.

“Does she love me?” Paige asks afraid of the answer.

“You're kidding right?” KK asks shocked that she's even asking.

“What?”

“Paige that girl has loved you for years,” she can feel herself lose her breath. What? There's no way that's true right? Please tell her that she heard wrong.

“Everyone could see it but you.” No no why didn't she see it sooner. “Why didn't she say anything?” She asks not knowing if she hopes it's a cruel prank or if she wants the confirmation that you love her.

“Did she have to? She made it pretty clear to you.” What.

“I mean do you see her waking anyone else with pancakes?” But you're always nice.

“Much less bring it to us in our beds.” You had sleepovers together that's why. Right?

“She sleeps with you almost all the time, the only times she hasn't was when you were with another girl.” Shit.

“You don't see her matching outfits with anyone else do you?” She always did love it when you would match colors, it made her feel like she had a claim over you even if it was just for the night.

“P whenever you would kiss someone or held their hand she would come to us crying. I don't think she would cry just because.” She made you cry, all those times she saw you walking away you had tears in your eyes.

“What do I do?” There has to be a chance right. She can't let you go now that she knows you've been there all along.

“I don't know.” What.

“What do you mean?” Please she needs something.

“Well P she kinda keeps going to these dates to get over you.” No. She's so close she can't just not try.

“I have to give it a shot, please.” Give me something, anything. Is all she can keep thinking hoping for any shot no matter how small.

“Well I know she's at that restaurant that opened up by the pizza place, Lavie or something like that,” Jana says remembering you telling her before practice when you asked her for her opinion on your outfit.

When she hears the name her movements are almost like she's in a trance, her only thought is to get to you as soon as she can. She stands up not caring if she's in her pajama pants, glasses that she rarely wears outside, her wavy hair in her natural state, grey nike tech sweater, and gets her keys from the dining table. They all watch her leave with encouraging smiles on their faces knowing that you two will end up together. They've all watched you fall in love and everyone even on the staff knows that you both need each other just to exist.

While you and your date are at the restaurant you can help but feel sick to your stomach. You know she knows you're pretending she's someone else. You allow yourself to envision her as Paige perhaps this is the closest you'll get to her. Why can't you just let her go. She haunts you. The way she looked at you when you came into the living room is embedded into your brain.

“I'm sorry to take you away from her tonight,” Hayley says knowing the team had plans tonight.

Your head lifts quickly looking at her for answers. “I know you all had plans,” she explains a bit while eating her salmon.

“No it's ok I enjoy getting out,” you reassure her since it was your choice that you went out not liking the idea of being near Paige for a long time. You try your best to keep the distance you've created.

“Do you miss her?” What? There is no way she knew right?

“Y/n I've seen the way you look at her. If I'm honest I'm also trying to get over someone, I see the way you look through me basically and I’m not mad really. I'm pretending you're someone else too.” Hayley confesses. You let out a breath of relief seeing as you both are just two people in love with another trying to find comfort in each other.

“No luck for you ether?” You ask her hoping at least one of you has some luck in getting over your situations. “Nah but I'm not too mad at it, I enjoy spending time with you.” She grins at you showing that she's being sincere. “I enjoy my time with you too.” As you continue your dinner the weight of this being a “date” wearing off you both start genuinely talking like friends would.

Paige gets to the restaurant as quickly as she can, she's pretty sure she might've broken some laws but for you, she’d break all of them to get to you. As she sits in her car for a second she collects her thoughts, was she really about to go in there and steal you away? Yes. The thought of you in there with someone who isn't her is burning her skin. When she sees you laughing through the window in the front she feels herself get hot. Screw it. She gets out of her car almost too quickly that she almost stumbles out. Walking up to the establishment intimidated her a bit, it's a nice place and here she comes in her pajamas to get you. It's all worth it for you. When she opens the door she can see the hostess opening her mouth to ask her if she's lost but she marches to your table nearby determined to get you.

Since your back is turned to her Hayle sees her before you do but you sense Paige before she even entered the restaurant, not wanting to believe your sensation you ignore it.

“Hey, I think one of us might just have some luck.”

“What?”

Paige stops right next to your table panting. You stare at her wide-eyed in shock. What is she doing here?

“I need to talk to you.” She states, her eyes pleading with you to come with her.

“I'm kind of in the middle of some-”

“Go, I'll be ok. Text me how it goes.” Haley blurts out wanting one of you to get your happy ending.

As soon as Paige hears the words she grabs you almost pulling you up and rushing you both out of there. She's too fast, you're heal-covered feet can hardly keep up.

“Paige wait I'm in heals. I'm going to trips wait up.” When the words leave your mouth she instantly stops and turns to you as you regain your balance. As you straighten up you let out a yelp not expecting her to pick you up bride-style and walk you both to her car. You hear the car unlock and she opens the passenger door while still holding you and puts you inside gently making sure you ok before she shuts the door and goes to the driver side.

You turn to look at her with shock and are about to ask her what does she think she's doing but she beats you to it. Turning to face you she looks into your eyes directly and says the five words you've been dying to hear.

“I’m in love with you Y/n” You feel the world stop when she says that. Are you awake right now? Was this a cruel dream?

“Don't say that,” you let out feeling your eyes start to tear up and your throat tightening.

“I love you Y/n.”She says determined to fight for you. She's not letting you go unless you truly want her to.

“Paige you're being mean, stop it please I can't take it.” How could she? How could she mock you? You turn to look away from her not being able to look at her while she lied to you. While trying to win your gaze, you feel her hands. The hands you've craved are turning your face to her slowly wiping your tears. While you let yourself have this one moment with her she starts speaking knowing that you need to hear from her again that she loves you.

“Y/n/n I'm so unbelievably in love with you and I didn't even realize it till I saw you walk out of the dorm. I know you may not want to hear this but whenever I would kiss other girls I would imagine that they were you, when I would hold them I thought about you, all of the things I've done with others I would envision you. I know it's wrong but I was such a fool, it has always been you. You're it for me bun. If I can't have you in this lifetime I pray I get to have you in the next and every after that. We were made for each other. Anytime I listen to Jeff Buckley I instantly think of you. If I could I really would give all my blood for your sweet laughter. I could write novels of you, every single thing about you I could write thousands of pages for. Anytime I hold you I never want to hurt you, I want to take care of you. I want to show you that I can love you gently and purely. When it comes to you I'm all in, everything is yours. Whatever you want I'll do, I'll give it all to you only please baby. Let me worship you in every way possible. I'm all yours, my mind, my body, my heart, my soul, everything was made for you. Give me a chance, let me show you. I can't handle the thought of you with someone else. I don't want to be without you.” During her confession, she rested her forehead against yours. Her finger still wiping the new tears that appeared as her speech went on. Your sweet girl.

“I've loved you for two years maybe even longer. I would watch you with them, my skin felt like it was being peeled off, my heart would stop when I would see you.” You let out not being able to hold it in. Pulling away to look at her you see she started crying too.

“I know I'm sorry baby. Please let me love you, I may not deserve it but I need it. Please.” Her eyes filled with more tears how could you say no. How could you say no to everything you've been hoping for.

“I love you, Paige. I’d give up anything to be with you, you are everything I've wanted for so long. I physically crave you. Even though I didn't say it out loud I tried to show you. I can't blame you completely, I should've said something but I was too scared of losing you.” You say laughing a bit at how much you're both crying. It's your turn to wipe her tears away. Her skin under your fingers feels like you were meant to hold her.

“I love you too. I should've realized sooner. We're both so stupid.” She replies while laughing a bit. You both couldn't stay mad at the other. As she admires you while you're trying to make sure her face is dry all she can do is think about kissing you.

“Kiss me,” did she hear you right? By the look on your face, she can tell you need her as much as she does. The kiss felt even better than you both had imagined, you could taste her tears and vanilla chapstick, she could taste your tears and strawberry lipgloss. She grabs your jaw while her other hand grasps at your waist pulling you a bit over the console. One of your hands is on her shoulder while the other is in her hair. As the kiss goes on it gets hungrier, pulling away to catch your breath you stare at each other.

‘How beautiful,’ runs through both of your heads.

“I love you.” Paige can't help but say it as she pecks you all over your face, repeating it between kisses.

Giggling you can't help but grab her face and peck her on the lips, “I love you too.”

As you both look at each other you can't help but crave something.

“Can we go get ice cream?” You ask not being able to hold it in anymore.

“Are you serious?” She asks laughing in amusement. While you get back into your seat properly buckling your seatbelt you turn to her and smile, “Always.”

“Does this could as my first girlfriend duty?” She asks grinning at the title she's given herself as your girlfriend. Yours.

“Yes so please love let's go, I need a sweet treat.” You flutter your eyelashes at her knowing that'll get her. Even though she would've done it without she smiles seeing as how you agreed that she was yours.

“Can't let my baby go with her ice cream,” she states as she puts the car into drive then moves to grab your hand in your lap, wanting to hold you in some way.

“Aw such a sweet girlfriend I have,” you say as you bring up her hand to your lips giving it a kiss while looking at her grinning so hard your face hurts.

“Yes ma'am, although I think you're sweeter,” you can see her blush from your kiss on her hand. Any little touch you give her makes you giddy.

“I love you, Paige.”

“I love you more Y/n.”

“Not possible.”

“Possible only for you.”

As you both get ice cream and watch the stars you both just feel at peace knowing you were with the person that was handmade for you. Made for each other in every way possible, tied together, sown together, invisible string. Right in front of each other all along.

D1 yearner... BUT anyways I need to lock in and write because the way my drafts and prompts look...... I hope you enjoyed this <33333

Kiss the sun🌞

[rebelssvy]

roommates ✧.*

ushijima x reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

⋆·˚ ༘ *

summary: ushi is your roommate and saw your phone with porn on it. creating an interesting relationship with you two. sex, smut, porn

i added twt links bc why not just to make it juicer lol

the worst thing to ever possibly happen, happened. while getting some cereal at one a.m, you had been scrolling on your own personally private twitter account. do you have porn on there? yes. do you actually watch it? yes. did you mean to leave it open on the counter top? no. not at all.

so to your horror as you ran to the pantry for some more cereal, you came back to the kitchen to find your your roomate, ushijima, standing right above your phone.

the action of him ease dropping isn’t what got you, he often snoops around your shared apartment. it was the audio you heard coming from it that made you jump out of your skin.

in the dead quiet of your dimly litted apartment, the audio of a girl getting absolutely railed by a man echoed.

“oh my god!” you scrambled, running over to your phone you shut it off. then threw it across the room it landing on the couch.

your hands instantly found your face, everything was burning up. ushi was normally a kind of awkward guy. not ever really saying much and when he did, it was always just kind of awkward.

did this stop you from having a crush on him? of course not. how could it? he was fucking huge. his muscles could make you pop from a hug. and he was also caring. even if he stuggled showing it. so you had no idea how he was about to handle this.

“you don’t have to be embarrassed y/n.” his voice prodded through the silence. it was deep, hushed. it wasn’t until a hand found your back that you looked up to him.

“i’m so so so sorry ushi!” you said turning to face him, putting your hands on his chest and burrying your head into his pecks. being touchy with him wasn’t abnormal. he just never really reciprocated it. that didn’t bother you.

“i’m… i’m just gonna go to bed.” you said before leaving your cereal on the counter, grabbing your phone and walking away.

that night you slept in horror. praying that he wouldn’t move out because of the action.

that night ushijima was more sexually frustrated then he had ever been.

✧.*

the next day when you two were at dinner, he brought up the situation from last night.

“god.. you don’t have to try to make me feel better. just forget about it.” you stood shaking your head. you two were out at a random restaurant about to leave when he asked you about it. you really wished he could just forget.

“you know y/n.. everyone watches porn.” he said it casually. tone unwavering. your eyes darted to his, attempting to read his emotions. to which you were met with a straight face.

the rest of the night you kept thinking about what that meant. does the ushijima wakatoshi watch porn? no way. i mean… there is no way right? in your head he could never be tempted. he’s too idk. perfect.

those words haunted you until you got home. every moment of silence between you lead back to the mental image you created.

finally walking through the door you decided to bring it up with him. you just didn’t know how.

he waked to his bedroom as you made you way to the kitchen for a drink. “hey ushi..?” you called out. he only responded when he walked back in with a changed, more casual outfit.

“yes y/n?” he replied finding a spot on your shared couch. instantly stretching he made himself comfortable as he flexed his biceps ever so subtlety. your eyes wandered to wear his shirt poked up. a flips of his happy trail peaked out. “do you have a question?” he said. your eyes snapped back to his face. you only nodded in reply.

going and sitting down next to him, sitting cris cross legged. as he faced forward his head turned to you. you were close, but not as close as you wished you were. so you opted to scoot closer to him. one of your knees now touching his thigh.

“earlier, i just can’t get it out of my mind… you said yk ‘everyone watches porn.’… and i was just wondering if like.. excuse me if im over stepping here but, if you watched.. porn?” your skin felt hot. like you were burning up. after you said it you wished you could take it back.

there was a long pause, and you swore you died and came back to life. just as you were about to excuse yourself to suffer an eternity of embarrassment, he responded.

“yes i watch porn.”

it was the answer you had longed for. craved and yearned. but now what? you asked him.. now what do you do?

“okay…” you said, hesitant. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what to say i’m so embarrassed oh my g-“ he stopped you mid sentence. cutting you off to say,

“want to see what i watch?” his tone was so casual that he never seemed more comfortable to talk to you. you couldn’t give him a verbal yes, so you shook your head yes instead.

you gasped as he moved his arm closer to you, only to grab his phone your thigh had been covering up. you watched intently, all nerves stood on end as he traveled to his notes app. you watched as he unlocked a hidden folder that revealed several links and notes under them. this was so ushijima. you thought to yourself.

“can i?” you asked while scooting closer to him. he flushed and shook his head yes. you scrolled through tens of links and notes beneath them like, ‘threesome two boys one girl.’ or ‘good creampie.’ it wasn’t out of the ordinary until one really caught your eye. it was a link, then labeled. ‘y/n.’ you gasped reading your name. then he caught on right away. obviously embarrassed he shut his phone off and didn’t say anything.

curiosity struck at your bones. what was that video? what did it have my name on it?

“can i.. can we maybe watch some of them..?” you leaned into him now bringing the phone back up to seversace level and unlocking it. he never said no. he shook his head yes before saying.

“let me explain-“ you cut him off, pressing a finger to his mouth before saying. “we will save that one for last how bout that…” you were now flirting with him. and he could tell. he shook his head yes once again as you scrolled through all the different links.

finally clicking on one you watched it with him side by side. you watched as a boyfriend penetrated his smaller girlfriend with his huge cock. you felt ushijima squirm next to you, obviously uncomfortable.

“fuck…” you said without realizing. your head whipped to his but he was already looking at you. and god.. he was so handsome. his lips parted slightly, glossed from his own saliva

“can i please kiss you?” he asked while dropping his hand and now holding your face. before giving him an answer you brought your face to his with passion. kissing him so intently. your lips molded around each others. it was hot. it was almost too much to handle. a line of saliva connected the two of you as you parted.

you picked up his phone and went back to scrolling. this time his hands were all over you, touching every part of your body. brushing over it of pinching at it, he needed to feel you.

you moaned as he brought his head to your neck and slurped at all your open skin. you watched videos that he had saved, making mental notes about how the women in them are. or what he was into like, two lovers forced to be quiet or how the girl in the video spread herself open to get finger fucked.

finally you made your way to the video with your name on it. ushijima had now brought his eyes back to you, nervous of what was about to happen. in silence you clicked on it. just to find a video of a girl with your body type and look getting absolutely pounded.

“i’ve never been fucked like that before…” you admitted, breaking the silence. you looked over to him. dropping the phone now.

“fuck y/n… i’m trying really hard right now to be a gentleman but your making it hard.” he dropped his head back before bringing a hand to his hair and messing with it.

“fuck that! just fuck me please oh my god!” you squealed out, shocked that you even said it. you smacked a hand over your mouth. but it was too late. ushijima had already taken you into his arms. carrying you into his room.

“i haven’t..” he started while throwing his clothes off, and undoing yours next, “been able to get you out of my mind. i need you so bad” he admitted now laying you down on the bed.

it was all happening too quickly. and yet his pace was awfully slow for you. fully naked you stared at him. he stared back at you.

finally his fingers trailed your asshole before finding your cunt. it was soaked already, ushijima was seeing stars. “fuck your so wet..” he groaned. “can i?” he asked for your consent.

“yes! ushi~just fuck me!” you moaned as his hand cupped your soft little cunt. he stood above you, spread your legs open and pressed his middle finger into your tight little hole. taking it out to draw circles on your clit. your back arched at all of his motions. you squirmed under his touch.

“god your so fucking tight. so fucking pretty.” he groaned before putting another finger into you. pumping it in and out of you at reckless pace.

“need more… i need your cock ushi..!” you moaned out grabbing at his length. you jerked him off a couple strokes before he pulled his fingers out of you and pushed them in your mouth.

you sucked your own juices off his digits. and oh my god, ushijima had never felt hotter. he felt like he was on fire.

now on the bed with you he threw your body around into a doggy position. your ass in the air. he waited seconds just looking at you before he positioned his cock near your hole.

as his fat tip sank its way further into your sobbing cunt, the more your pussy sucked him in. half way in and he thought he was going to cum. he pushed the feeling deep down into his soul. he needed to fuck you first.

“ushijimaaa~ fuck! ah-! your so fucking bi-i-g!” and with that moan of his name, he swore he heard wedding bells.

a new fuel fired his engine, as he pounded your wet cunt from behind. your arched your back further. the sensation was too much for you. the feeling of you stretching out around his fat cock. you could feel him everywhere.

your cream gathered at the base of his cock, it made his mind go hazy. pushing your farther into the bed, he rested more of his weight on you. slamming his cock in and out of you. your noises filled the room. the way you clenched around home you knew you were close.

“fuck you like that? cmon y/n.. cum around my fucking cock.” his words sent you over the edge. shaking and spasming beneath him you cursed out moans. saying ‘fuck ushi-! god i fucking love your dick ohmygod’ it wasn’t until his pace slowed slightly that you realized that he wasn’t stopping.

“i’ve been waiting to fuck uou for months baby. cmon gimmie a nother one cmon…” you watched all his composer slip away as he pounded your overstimulated body. flipping you on your front you got pounded face to face with him. his eyebrows furrowed. he was such a sight.

you felt your second orgasm approaching. he reached down to circle your creamy clit. as soon as he touched it pleasure ripped through you. your body lurching forward. you shook with the feeling.

“imcummingfu-c! god ushi~ your cock oh my god. fuck your so fucking good ah-!” you moaned, almost screaming him praise. he came on the spot. his cock filling you up with his seed. you felt him everywhere.

“god your so perfect. oh my god fuck y/n.” he said through grunts and groans. finally he fell next to you. kissing your sweaty body.

getting cereal at one am was the best thing you’ve ever done.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

i missed writing about him so u know i had to do it

[b-free]

"Ah... mmm... ok." The little one looked toward the twins for a moment before seeming to look toward the ground. Tera was glanced at as well.

"I- hah, i smell funny?" Mo seemed to work a bit to get air back properly, wiping tears away with a light smile. "What's that mean? Not bad funny i'm hoping."

Hafiz steps over to take his child into his arms, smiling affectionately as he tells N something that is lost for only a moment to Bishop as the tail's eyes flash yellow for a moment.

"Curious are you?"

The voice comes before the memory. Green eyes look on a little bored from above the edges of a charging crib.

"You know i dont get why anyone would wanna do this." His voice is distorted when he speaks, a feminine one responding soon after.

"Right? Like... ugh i had to find an outfit to hide the color the whole time and then we had to get the parts..."

"And it doesn't do anything."

"Hey, what if we just... yanno, skip some steps! Then it should be able to take care of itself!"

"Does the manual say that's ok?"

"Oh who cares, it's a great idea!"

The tail is still watching Bishop as the memory ends, wavering a bit in the air before it moves to look at a passing insect.

Hafiz seemed to be in the middle of explaining a little to N what was found, gently patting his child on the head.

The night is clear, stars twinkling in the sky. The patrol seems to be relatively uneventful until one of the party looks up to see a small flash in the sky. Something not unlike debris burning in the atmosphere on entry.

Only it juat dulls, and slowly grows. Smoke trails as a ship is seen falling toward the planet, flames licking off the hull as it streaks toward the jungle, passing over the settlement of sanctuary with only a strong gust of disturbed and heated air before crashing a good couple miles away. The landing stirs the silence of the evening, the crash echoing loudly enough to reach Sanctuary.

((Trembles and tosses this at u before i delete it all))

Tera is on the roof, staring up at the stars before the streak of flaming hull catches her eye. Her eyelights sharpen as she turns the safety off her pistol and flies quickly in the direction it crashed, on high alert.

[cherrriesinthespring]

PLEASEEE!!! Spencer with 81

im trying to make these as inclusive as possible, unless the prompt says something about the reader being a female!! the prompt is in pink!!

warnings: spencer is a munch, overstimulation (almost?) mention of safeword almost being used, doesn't happen

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

you saw it when he came through the door, tension in his shoulders, the antsy movements, hands fidgeting. your poor boy hadn't had a good day at work again, it made you frown, of course you went over to help.

you tried everything, tea, offering to read to him, cuddles. nothing. so you decide to let spencer have his own time, let him sit by himself and just cool down. while you cooked, your outfit quickly reduced to something a little shorter. stirring the pot on the counter, you didn't have to turn to know he was staring. his two eyes practically stung the back of you.. mostly your ass. you knew he couldn't take his eyes off you.

when dinner was put out, he couldn't focus, biting down on the inside of his lip, pushing his food around. until he spoke.

"Y/N, please put something on.." spencers usual light tone was gone, now replaced with something more gruff. there's not a lot to say, mostly because you're lost for words.

"i- what?" you put down the fork, his eyes are trailing over what he can see of you above the table. an idea hits him. spencer pushes himself back in his chair, and gets down on the floor. 'what the fuck?' is your first thought. then he's crawling over to you with those puppy dog eyes, large hands flat on the floor and when he makes it to you, those hands push open your thighs.

your own well manicured hands thread through his hair, you shuffle to the edge of the seat and even help him take your underwear off. if this is what will make him feel better, you'd do anything.

"Y/N.. please, i want to make a mess of you" it's a whisper, but clearly not a plea. more like a warning of what he's about to do. you nod at him, placing your legs over his shoulders, tilting your hips back so he has full access.

he starts to lick, slowly across skin that's now wet just from seeing him under the table, eager. then he uses both his lips to latch around you, you're about to (on instinct from the new stimulation) back away from him. hes quicker, hooking his hands around the back of your thighs.

spencer brings you over the edge once, his chin covered in his own spit, and your fluids. you smile down at him but he doesn't stop, he dives back in for another, then another. you're sensitive, legs shaking, he moans as his lips meet you over, and over again.

"sp- spencer!" you cry out. he didn't move an inch from between your legs. you were about to safeword out, but that's when he lets out a loud grunt. his motions stop and he lets his cheek rest on your thigh, he smiles up at you. the light catches his dress pants and you see a small wet patch just where his bulge is.

"made me feel so much better, sweet thing.."

[the-kr8tor]

A Regular Spidey Valentine's day

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: Hobie's valentine's day plan goes awry when Spider-Man duties call.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, CW suggestive, CW food mentions, lovestruck! Hobie, canon typical violence, fluff.

Requested by @thesevenofstaves -- had to double check the master list but i don’t think there’s one similar to this? but if there is feel free toto discard—hobie trying to have a great valentine’s day with his partner, but everything keeps going wrong. we’re talking villain attacks, we’re talking culinary failures. you get the idea!thank you love you 🥰

Navigation

You open your eyes to a cold valentine's day morning. But the cool wind barely nips at you when you've got your very own furnace holding you close under the thick blankets.

Hobie embraces you from behind, soft snores escaping from his parted lips as he finds his place on your nape. You feel his breath fanning across your skin, goosebumps appearing on your arms as he lets out an exhale. You wonder what he's dreaming about, you only hope it's good things as his arms subconsciously squeezes you in his sleep.

His legs are tangled with your own, socked feet rubbing along your cold leg as you feel him stir when the light from the windows beam through the curtains. His hands wiggle their way under your night shirt, holding your stomach and letting his warmth ebb from his palms. Smiling, you hold the back of his hands, thumbs running along his knuckles as a soft and gentle way to wake him up.

“We need new blinds.” Hobie murmurs against the back of your neck, lil piercing brushing along your raised skin. His voice is still deep and rough from sleep, it single handedly makes your heart flutter.

“Good morning to you too.” You chuckle, voice soft amidst the early morning fluttering of dust. “Maybe that'll be your valentine's gift from me.”

He laughs, a deep rumble in his throat that reverberates through you. “Make it blackout, love. ‘m startin’ to think that people can see through and see our nightly—” you crane your neck to give him a side glance as a warning, only to find that he has already cracked an eye open, waiting for your reaction. “—Activities.”

Humming, you're satisfied by his use of the word.

“‘m talkin' ‘bout makin’ love, by the way.”

“Hobie!” You giggle, and the sound immediately has Hobie moving to detangle himself away from you and lift his body atop your own in quick succession and fluid movement. His lopsided smile has your words stuck in your throat as you look up at him through wide eyes.

“Hearts day today, hm?” He pokes your cheek, arms enclosed around you and legs trapping your thighs together. “The most capitalistic time of the year.”

You try to tamp down a laugh but can't help giggling when he tilts his head and tries to look all flirty with you when he's still wearing his pink silk bonnet and with crusts still in the corner of his eyes.

“That's true,” lifting your hand up to rub away the sleep in his eyes gently, he closes his eyes whilst you do it. “But you always go all out during the holiday.”

“Yeah, but it's for you.” He leans against your touch, sighing longingly as if you're across the sea from him. “And only for you, love.” Dropping down, he places his head on your shoulder, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck as he gives small pecks on your skin. Your heart feels full in the moment as you hold him close and tangle your legs with him. “Says you who made me a whole bloody outfit from scratch.”

Laughing, he continues to kiss your neck and up to your jaw. “And I loved making it for you,” you say breathlessly as he kisses deeper and you move your neck to give him more space to cover. “Just say you love the holiday, Hobs.”

Hobie pauses from his barrage of kisses, lifting his head up to look you in the eyes. He fixes your unruly brows that still bear sleep, and rubs your cheek lovingly with his knuckles.

“No.”

“Is it because you have to go on patrol today unlike last year?”

“The world is tearing us apart, lovie.” He leans in, kissing the corner of your lips, cheeks and the tip of your nose.

“Maybe just London, Hobie.” You gasp as he presses a sweet kiss on your lips. You reciprocate wholeheartedly, hands balling his pajama shirt and smiling through the kiss.

“London can wait a few more minutes.”

—

“Hobie, be careful, please?” You hug yourself tighter, wrapping Hobie's cardigan around you. “I have plans for us tonight so please come home in one piece.”

Hobie, in his full regalia of spandex and leather sits in-between the window sill as if he’s thinking whether he should stay or go.

“You know I always will, love.” Holding up his arms, you park yourself in the space as he curls himself around your form, face scrunched on your belly, and with you hugging his head. “I'll be on time, hm?” He whispers against you, placing a heavy kiss atop the cardigan that you both share.

“I'm not worried about that.” Craning your neck, not worried about the crick you're about to surely have, you kiss his temple sweetly. “Just come home, okay?”

Hobie reluctantly lifts his head away from you, smiling up at you. If he doesn't leave now, he'll never get out of the flat. “You want wine for tonight?”

“If you're coming home all beaten and battered, you better have something stronger.” You joke as you caress his cheek.

“I'll get you the good stuff, hm?”

“Anything from you is the good stuff.” Leaning down, you kiss him on his waiting lips. “Now go, the city needs you, Spider-Man.”

Hobie gives you one last smile before placing the mask on his head. Now face to face with the famed vigilante. Taking your hand, he kisses your knuckles and lets you go to jump off the window and swing away into the bustling city.

Watching his form retreating away, you sigh and start preparing for tonight's meal, that's for sure would be so bountiful that it would send the vigilante to a food coma.

—

Hobie heaves in place as the lizard lays unconscious by his feet. It's barely noon and he has stopped seven disasters already. There goes his plans to swing by and hand you a bouquet that he gathered himself that's now slowly floating down to the dust covered pavement. Fragrant flower petals come down from the sky, and a few people stop by and watch as the colourful flowers grace the cold London street.

“It's a Valentine's miracle!” A bystander exclaims happily, dancing around the floating petals.

Hobie shakes his head, rubbing a gloved hand across his masked face. He should've seen the lizard coming but he was too enthralled by his own mind that was playing what your reaction would be after he gives you a visit and hands you the flowers.

“Fuckin' hell.” He stretches his aching shoulder, already thinking of a faster route to gather all the flowers he needed to make a new bouquet. Whilst he thinks, a fire alarm blares in the distance, making his senses go off. With a sigh, the flowers have to wait.

—

You swirl the final touches on the red velvet cake you just finished. Smiling happily at the result even though it's your first time baking one. As you check the time, looking over to the clock on the wall, you have plenty of time to finish up dinner. Now with dessert out of the way, it's time for the main course.

You wonder what Hobie's up to and if he has eaten lunch yet.

—

“You wanker! That was my lunch!” Hobie screams at the cackling Rhino. Real fury in his veins whilst he glances at the sandwich you packed for him this morning that's now flattened under the villain's metallic foot.

“Oh poor spidey lost his sandwich?” The Rhino mocks while doing a crying motion at him. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Hobie cracks his neck, jaw tightening and walking slowly at the humongous suit of armour. He has no quip nor a joke, just silence; making the Rhino fear for his life.

—

“Shit!” You yelp, dropping the smoking metal tray into the sink. Opening the faucet, the tray hisses and lets out steam whilst the whole kitchen is covered in smoke. “Damn it.”

Maybe taking a short nap while the oven is on wasn't such a great idea. Good thing you have a plan b just in case something like this happened.

Checking the time, you're starting to worry that you won't finish before Hobie comes home now that it's well into the afternoon. With a groan, you start again.

—

“No, Ned, not a bloody yellow one!” Hobie yells into the phone's receiver, which he only uses for times like these. He's on call with Ned who owes Hobie big time and whom he asked for help in buying ingredients from the store. He dodges the Scorpion's stinger, balancing on a metal railing just near the end of the docks. “Not blue either! It'll look like it's for a baby shower—!” The stinger gets too close for comfort. “Do you fuckin' mind? 'm on the phone.”

“Drop the call, Spider-Man!” The scorpion says in his scratchy tone as he hangs upside down on a lamp post. “What's more important than saving the bank?”

“The bank can fuck off for all I care!” Hobie jumps and webs the stinger to a building. “It's the hostages you've got inside, you knobhead—! No, not you, Ned!” Groaning, he has had enough and quickly somersaults over the second stinger that was aimed for him. “What's up with you animal themed villains today? Got no dates?!”

“That's harsh.” The Scorpion's shoulders deflates sadly.

“Guess it's hard to find a date when you dress like that!” He pounces, punching the guy right on his jaw.

Hobie looks at the sun slowly setting on the horizon and he focuses on the task at hand. The faster he defeats the Scorpion, the faster he can get to you.

“Pink or red only, Ned, and get the good chocolate and please don't forget the thing I told you.” He closes the call and tucks the phone back in his vest pocket. Cracking his knuckles, he hones in on the villain. “Maybe you'll find a date in jail, yeah?”

—

You set up the dinner table all pretty like with red roses, a fine tablecloth, and gilded utensils that you got a deal on at an estate sale last week. Looking around, the pretty string lights and the strawberry scented candles have you smiling and patting your back for a job well done.

Your phone pings on the kitchen counter, and you race towards it to check if it's Hobie telling you that he's on his way. Your brows knit together when it's Ned asking you when your birthday is and if you're allergic to nuts. A weird combination of questions but you still open your phone and answer him.

—

“C’mon, blackcat, not today.” Hobie sighs, the marks from the previous fights is evident on his soot and scratch covered suit. The sun has fully set, and the clock ticks close to seven pm as he stands on a rooftop with blackcat, who's carrying a duffel bag full of jewellery.

“Why? Got something to do, handsome?” She says in a sultry tone, sharp claws glinting in the moonlight. Hobie subtly tilts his head in annoyance. Nothing seems to be going his way today. “Oh, I get it, you've got someone waiting for you tonight, hm?” Her heels click on the rooftop as she walks closer to him. Hobie smacks his lips together, fists tightening.

In the distance, the famous jewellery shop she just robbed empty has its alarms blaring loudly. Sirens go off around the area, and Hobie just wants to go home.

“Y’know what?” Hobie starts, exasperated. Blackcat tilts her head, her silver eyes under the domino mask narrows at him. “That place was owned by an arsehole, go.”

She blinks in place, a smirk slowly appearing on her painted lips. “Really? Just like that?”

Hobie nods, “promise not to tell anyone what you deduced and give thirty percent of the money you get from that to a charity and I'll let you go.”

“Shit, Spider-Man, why didn't you say so in the first place?” She chuckles, reeling her claws back in.

“Fuckin’ say it, Felicia.”

“Damn, you don't have to call me by my government name, man.” She rummages through the bag and tosses him something shiny which Hobie catches effortlessly. “Here, for your special someone. And I promise, spidey. Cross my heart, hope to die.” She draws a cross over her chest.

“I'll know, don't lie to me.” His voice falls into a dangerous timbre.

She visibly stiffens from the threat, not forgetting what he did to Osborne a few years ago. “As if I'd lie to my favourite spider.”

As blackcat tumbles away, leaving Hobie alone, he opens his palm to see a shiny diamond tennis bracelet. Maybe he can detach the diamonds and make something else.

“Shit!” He needs to get to Ned’s real quick.

—

You've been sitting pretty on the dining table for four hours now. The candle is dwindling and the food is getting colder while the clock ticks on the wall. For the umpteenth time tonight, you fix your clothes as if there's even a crease or a speck of dust on it. You don't mind waiting for him when you know the nature of his work, but you're starting to worry when his last text to you was hours ago. You've even turned on the telly in the background just in case he pops up in the news.

With a yawn, you decide to lay your head on the table. “Just closing my eyes.” You mumble to yourself as you drift in between slumber and wakefulness.

Hobie's heart breaks when he sees you asleep on the table with your head tucked in your arms. The candles are fully melted on the candelabra, and the smell of food is fading away. He's sure that it might've smelled heavenly hours ago, if only he got there earlier.

He quietly takes off his heavy boots by the door, the crinkling of the paper bag has him cringing. But when he glances at your sleeping form, you're still sleeping soundly. He curses himself internally as he roams his eyes around the living room and the decorations you've put out. You've even got new pictures of you together with him inside pretty frames to place around the shared place. The flowers on the vases are still fresh and blooming, and you look absolutely stunning.

Gently placing the paper bag on the table, he kneels next to you, hand grasping your bicep while he wakes you up.

You stir, sniffing the air as you lift your head up. Your face lights up when you see him smiling softly at you.

“Hi.”

“Hello, love. Sorry ‘m late, let me carry you to bed, yeah?” Hobie rubs your thigh lovingly, chest feeling heavy and guilty. “I tried.”

You immediately know what he meant. “I know, Hobs.” Reaching for his cheek, you let your touch warm him. His face still feels chilly from how he might've run to get to the flat. “You okay?” He nods, eyes shining as he moves closer and places his head on your lap. “Bad day?”

“A shite day.” He hugs your waist, face nudging you.

“Sounds like you need a Valentine's meal, hm?”

Hobie lifts his head up, palms holding your hips. “It's cold.”

“That's why microwaves and the stove were invented.”

A smile curls on his lips until he's laughing against your stomach. You giggle with him, fingers kneading in between his shoulder blades.

“What did you make?” He asks, still holding you in place and in turn holding him down to the present.

“Baked chicken with lemongrass just like how you like it.” You whisper to him while the pads of his fingers draw circles on the small of your back. “Some mashed potatoes, so many buttered vegetables.” You chuckle and you feel his smile atop your skin. “Fish fillet—”

“With the garlic and cream sauce?”

You nod, gazing down lovingly at him. “With the garlic and cream sauce of course. Some tomato soup, and cake.”

“We feedin’ a whole town now, lovie?” He smiles up at you, stomach rumbling from the menu.

“Yeah, you,” you joke, earning a squeeze from him. “I rarely cook for you these days so I went all out.”

He beams at you, eyes gazing at you lovingly. “I got you flowers.” He says in a small tone. Your heart flutters. “It's all over downtown now though.”

Your laugh is music to his ears. “I bet it made someone's day though.”

“There was a bloke who looked like he was in the sound of music.” He places his chin on your thigh, staring at you with heart shaped eyes. You laugh, hands cupping each of his cheeks. “I made you chocolates, but Neddy got coconut fillings in most of ‘em. And the sprinkles are green, sorry.”

“Is that why Ned asked me if I have any allergies and when my birthday is? He helped you make them?”

“I can't make it ‘ere when you were cookin’ up a storm. Wait, he asked you? Idiot.” He curses Ned's name and you giggle. Hobie bites his lip, suddenly nervous. “And he was askin' when your birthday is so he could get your birth stone.”

“My stone?”

“I just told him to pick it up so I could set it myself and the wanker forgot when your birthday is just because I just said your birthstone.” You squeeze his cheek to stop his nervous rambling. He sighs, rummaging through his jacket pocket and procuring a simple bamboo box. “Made and designed by yours truly.” He chuckles nervously as he opens the box, revealing a simple platinum necklace that has your birthstone set in a guitar pick shaped locket. “Sorry that the stone is so small. The old lady who owned the place got me a good price though.”

“Hobie,” you softly sigh out, tears prickling your eyes. “You could get me a candy necklace and I would still love it.”

“Should've gotten that then.” He laughs, mirroring your smile. “I thought, ten fuckin' years together, ten Valentines, I have to get you somethin' nice. You deserve nice, love.”

“The chocolates and the pavement flowers were nice too. Anything from you is nice, Hobie.” You don't hold yourself back anymore, leaning down and kissing the corner of his eye as he holds onto you. “Amazing even.”

“You like it then?” He says as he gets a barrage of kisses.

“I love it. Come stand up and help me put it on like in the movies.”

Hobie reaches for your cheek, a calloused palm holding you close and keeping you warm. “Kiss me like in the movies then.”

So you do.

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[dualityvn]

After seeing your response to the boys' meeting MC by pretending to be their boyfriend, I couldn't get the idea out of my head. So here is the Tenebris version. Even though it's scary to share my first fanfic, I hope you enjoy it and that I portrayed him well. I truly love your game! Keith's fic is in a separate ask so it won't get too long.

x x x

“Is this seat taken?” The bored looking man startles at the sound of your voice, looking up at you with too-wide eyes from the park bench you’ve just approached. The blue patches on his skin are interesting, but you don’t have time to consider if they’re real or not.

“Uh...No?” he responds cautiously.

“Perfect,” you sigh in relief and plunk yourself down next to him. A beat of silence passes before you blurt, “So I know this is gonna sound crazy, but will you please pretend to be my boyfriend?” 

“Huh?!” his eyes somehow widen even further in shock. Understandable, but not the answer you need. You sigh before elaborating.

“Any minute now my coworker is going to come down that path looking for me. He’s been asking me out for weeks, but won’t take no for an answer. I want to put a stop to it for good. Ergo, will you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“Why me?” he asks incredulously. It’s not a no, but not a yes either. Desperate, you swallow your embarrassment and opt for the truth. Gesturing to his punk styled outfit you speak.

“Honestly? I think you look cool and you seem strong enough to handle yourself.” He stares at you in stunned silence, clearly not expecting that answer. And… are his cheeks turning purple?! More importantly, you spot your coworker coming around the bend. You’re running out of time.

“Sorry, but I can’t lie. So no.” He sounds gruff yet genuinely apologetic. 

“Can’t lie? What, you fae or something?” you ask sarcastically, 1000% done with this day.

“Yeah, actually” he says, mildly surprised. Now it’s your turn to be stunned into wide-eyed silence. He looks dead serious. Groaning internally about the unfairness of attractive men with delusions you accept you’re just gonna have to make this work.

“Since I don’t have time to unpack that I’m just gonna roll with it. Let’s try this again. Will you actually be my boyfriend for the next 15 minutes? I’ll make it up to you,” you bite your lip nervously, shooting a glance over his shoulder.

The “fae” takes a moment to consider you, his expression unclear in your nervous state. After what feels like an eternity his eyes lock with yours and he utters the one word you were hoping for, “Deal.”

“Oh, thank fuck. Sorry about this”

“Wha-”

You quickly cuddle up to him on the bench, wrapping his arm around you. As you lay your head on his shoulder you feel him tense. 

“Relax, I’m not gonna bite you,” you hiss.

He grumbles a response, but relaxes…marginally and not a moment too soon. Your unwanted coworker has spotted you, judging by his increased pace.

“By the way, what’s your name?” you whisper. A shiver passes through your temporary boyfriend as your breath tickles his ear. You stifle the urge to tease him more.

“T-Tenebris,” he chokes out, “What’s your-”

“There you are!” a voice cuts Tenebris off, “I was starting to think you were avoiding me on pur…pose….” Your coworker trails off at the scene before him.

“Who’s this?” he asks you, jealousy threading through his voice.

“Oh, Leonard. Meet my boyfriend, Tenebris. Ten, honey, this is the guy I’ve been telling you about.” To his credit, Tenebris manages to not react to your use of a pet name. “The one that keeps asking ya out even when ya tell him no?” he growls convincingly.

“I wasn’t aware you had a boyfriend,” Leonard says sulkily.

“That’s because ‘No’ is a complete sentence on its own,” you say sweetly, leaning further into your “boyfriend’s” hold.

“Plus it’s none of your fucking business,” Tenebris snaps.

“I…see,” Leonard says, reluctant to give up.

“Do ya?” Tenebris asks, eyes narrowing, “Cuz I don’t see ya leaving yet, asshole.”

Leonard sputters indignantly before looking at you. You wrap an arm around Tenebris’ waist, as if there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. In reality you’re fighting not to laugh, so you nuzzle into Tenebris’ neck to hide your expression. He jolts like he’s been touched by a live wire.

“I… I guess I’ll be on my way then.” Leonard finally concedes.

“You do that,” Tenebris says menacingly, eyes glaring daggers as he turns back the way he came. For a few tense moments you stay like that.

“He’s gone,” Tenebris finally says. You slowly sit up and move away, heaving a sigh of relief.

“Sorry about that. I was about to crack up laughing,” you say smiling sheepishly. Tenebris returns a rather…squiggly???... smile of his own. Was that makeup too?

“The look on his face was pretty great.” he agrees, “What a creep, though. Ya seriously put up with him?”

“Not willingly,” you say, standing up. “Well, handsome, I’ve taken enough of your time. Thanks for the help.” Before you can leave, a hand grabs your sleeve. Confused, you turn to look at Tenebris, now sporting a definitely purple blush on skin bluer than you remember.

“It hasn’t been 15 minutes yet.” he mutters, not looking at you, “Ya said you’d make it up to me.”

“You actually want me to?” you ask surprised.

“A deal’s a deal, ain’t it?” he retorts.

“True,” you say, “Well, do you like sweets? I know a great place nearby. My treat!” Tenebris brightens, nodding enthusiastically before letting you lead the way. Soon enough you’re strolling down the street, treats in hand.

“Did ya mean it?” he asks suddenly between bites.

“Mean what?”

“When ya called me handsome,” he says quietly.

“Oh!” you smile shyly, “Well, yeah.” 

Tenebris grins as he takes a particularly large bite of his dessert. Before parting ways he asks for your number. You write it on his hand, surprised he actually wants to see you again. As you walk home, you idly wonder when you’ll see him next.

This is really nicely written! Especially for your first fanfic! And Tenebris was very in character! Love it overall 10/10, thank you for sharing ^^

[certaimromance]

the way the chapters of this series are getting longer and longer is literally my descent into madness

anyway, here come the fun facts :p (there are many, sorry)

don't read this if you haven't already read the chapter🩷

if you've read my other posts, you know i love parallels and those subtle details you only notice if you pay attention. the elevator and staircase game is obvious, but I'll explain it better here:

the staircase represents their relationship to the beginning; step by step, very calmly, each step is followed by another that takes you closer to your destination.

the elevator, on the other hand, represents the sudden changes they face now. think about how spencer goes from running away from the reader in the hallway to suddenly embracing her. or how you can get on an elevator and go from floor one to floor ten without doing more than pressing a button. in this case, it's about making a decision based on your feelings that can get you from silence to love.

this idea is also made more explicit when i say, "The elevator was still, suspended in a moment that felt endless. Neither of you had pressed a button, and for a heartbeat, the world outside seemed to hold its breath. You were trapped between two floors, between the weight of the past and the uncertainty of what might come next."

also, the whole part with spencer's mom IS KEY, let's not forget why my poor baby was in mexico (other than it's all cat's fault). it hurt me to write it, but it's an essential part of him that i used in this case to show why he was so concerned about the reader having healthier little habits (the whole "i want you to live longer." thing) since all the people he loves are leaving or dying.

and finally, to be honest, the whole cardigan thing, besides being done because the change in spencer's outfit is obvious and according to my reading goes beyond just clothes, but also a reference to my favorite taylor swift song (we all know who the old cardigan under someone's bed is)+obviously stay by gracie abrams, which is THE song of the chapter, here i left you a couple of lyrics that are just on point.

𝜗𝜚 The Other Girl Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

series masterlist

Summary: Whenever your world has fallen, your neighbor has been there to save you, but now it's your turn to do the same for him.

Words: 6k (I get crazier with each chapter).

Warnings & Tags: this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. mention of murder, injuries, violence, alzheimer, daddy issues, death. hurt/comfort. angst. painter!reader. post prison reid with almost all his past traumas. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I know it takes me a long time to publish the chapters but they all have a lot of emotional charge (in this one IS A LOT) and to get it 100% right I have to rewrite them little by little, it is complex because I am a perfectionist😞 BUT thank you all for the support, patience and love you have given me.

I'm also planning to upload an extra of this poor babies for Valentine's Day💕 It'll be a prequel to the series and is mostly fluff yum.

You still remembered the first time you climbed the stairs to your apartment.

At the time, it hadn’t been a choice but a necessity. The elevator had been out of order in the middle of moving week, and the building management had shrugged off your complaints with little more than an apologetic glance, a vague promise, and a string of excuses that never quite panned out. The idea of waiting for them to fix it seemed absurd, especially when you were already overwhelmed with boxes, tape, and the dull ache of exhaustion that settled in your bones after hours of unpacking. So, with your arms full of the fragile, mundane objects that made up your life��books, plates, electronics, and furniture—you had trudged up the stairs, one step at a time. Sweat slicked your back, dampening your clothes as each heavy step took its toll. The weight of your belongings had felt far less heavy than the weight of the exhaustion, the impatience, and the frustration that boiled just beneath the surface.

And yet, after all of that, you made a promise to yourself: as soon as the elevator was fixed, you would never do this again. You’d never climb these endless stairs in such a haphazard rush, sweat dripping down your face, your legs aching with every painful movement.

But as the days passed, the promise began to feel less like a statement of intent and more like a fleeting thought. The elevator was still out of order, and each time you ascended those stairs, something strange happened. The ache in your muscles, the deep, satisfied burn that had originally seemed like an unbearable weight, started to feel different. It wasn’t just the physical strain of moving boxes. It was something else, something subtle but undeniable. You were becoming accustomed to it. The repetitive rhythm of your steps, the quiet solitude of the stairwell, the knowing sense that this space, though public, was somehow yours. No one else was down there, nobody was watching, and nobody expected anything of you except that you climb. You weren’t running into awkward neighbors. No one was talking about the weather or the laundry room door that wouldn’t close properly. The stairwell became something more than just a space to get from one floor to the next; it became a moment of stillness, of pause, a small sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside.

Then your favorite neighbor noticed.

He didn’t say anything at first. Not until one evening, when you reached the bottom of the stairwell, your legs trembling from the exertion. You were trying to stretch your calves and soothe the burning in your thighs, cursing yourself for the lack of grace you were showing. You were already preparing yourself to leave when a voice, warm yet casual, interrupted your thoughts.

“You know, taking the stairs regularly can improve cardiovascular health, increase muscle endurance, and even help with cognitive function. There have been studies.”

You froze mid-stretch, eyes widening. Slowly, you turned to find him leaning against the wall, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, work bag slung over his shoulder. He looked like he had been standing there for a while, watching you struggle up the stairs far longer than you had realized.

“Spencer,” you panted, still catching your breath, “I just like avoiding awkward elevator conversations.”

A flicker of amusement passed across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching in a small, knowing smile. But he didn’t argue. Not that day. Not yet.

“Oh…that’s a good idea, I guess.”

But after that, it became a habit of his.

He started slipping little facts into conversation, always casually, always carefully, like he wasn’t trying to impose, just…offering something. He mentioned the importance of pacing yourself, of stretching, and of drinking water. He spoke of breath control, the way inhaling through your nose and exhaling with each push off the step could help regulate energy and heart rate. He never said it like a lecture, never demanded that you listen. He simply planted ideas, little seeds of knowledge, and let them take root on their own.

Then, he started timing his arrivals. You’d reach the bottom of the stairs, exhausted from your climb, only to find him standing there. He’d walk with you down the flights, his stride long and effortless, as though gravity didn’t pull on him the same way it did you. With each step you took, you found yourself straining to match his pace, to keep up.

One day, after you had finally reached the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing to catch your breath, he spoke again, voice low but insistent.

“You know,” he mused, watching you with that quiet, observant gaze of his, “you’d get even more benefits if you focused on your breathing pattern. Inhale through your nose as you step up, exhale when you push off. It helps with energy flow and helps regulate your heart rate.”

Another time, he raised an eyebrow as you finished stretching, his lips curling into a small frown. “Your posture could use some work. If you lean too far forward, you’ll strain your lower back.”

You had paused, mid-stretch, and shot him a look. “Are you coaching me?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer, not even winded, just smiled that small, knowing smile of his. “I prefer to think of it as…guiding you toward better habits. So you live longer.”

There was something in the way he said it, something so utterly genuine, that you had no response. You just rolled your eyes, pretending his words didn’t settle somewhere deep in your chest.

Because he really did want you to live longer.

Preferably forever.

And hopefully, always next door.

Even if you didn’t realize it. Even if you just saw his words as a harmless nuisance, a quirk of his endlessly curious mind.

And somehow, the strangest thing? It worked.

You found yourself drinking more water throughout the day, stretching before and after walking, and adjusting the way you climbed to avoid unnecessary pressure on your joints. The things he told you weren’t drastic changes, just subtle shifts, quiet reminders. But somehow, they made a difference. And what had started as a mindless habit became something else. You noticed the difference, not just physically, but mentally. The clarity of thought after a climb, the way your body felt lighter, more in tune. And somewhere along the way, it became yours and his.

It wasn’t something you spoke about outright. There was no label for it, no need to analyze it. But it was there, woven into the fabric of your days. The quiet companionship. The unspoken rhythm of two people walking in sync. The way he filled the silences with facts, you pretended to roll your eyes at, even as you secretly liked how much he enjoyed your reactions.

It became normal.

Until, of course—

He disappeared.

No explanations. No warnings. No final conversation that you knew was final, no understanding of why. Just an empty, silent absence where he used to be. No more random nutrition facts, no more health tips disguised as casual conversation. Just gone.

Still, you did it anyway. Every day, without fail. Because habits don’t break just because people do.

And now, walking up those stairs alone felt heavier than it ever had before. The silence that had once been a comfort now suffocated you. And the idea of living a long, healthy life when no one seemed to care whether you did or not? Well. That was kind of a bummer.

But this morning, the stairs felt different. Lonelier. Less like a ritual, more like a weight dragging behind you, pulling you under. Your mind was stuck on last night. The chaotic blur of it looped in fragments, like a dream you couldn’t shake. A nightmare too sharp to be fiction, but too unreal to fully believe. And yet the bruise on your cheek wasn’t a dream. It greeted you in the mirror as soon as you woke, a dark, swollen reminder of everything you wanted to forget. Pain settled deep in your bones, not just from the stairs but from what had happened. What you saw. What you heard. What you couldn't avoid.

And now, as you reached the bottom step, everything felt wrong. Your chest was too tight. Your limbs were too heavy. The door to your apartment, just a few paces away, felt miles out of reach.

You stopped. Just stood there. The peeling paint on the wooden steps seemed to hold all the time that had passed, all the moments you wished you could undo. You stared at them, at the cracks, the faded edges, as if they might offer answers. As if they might take some of the weight away.

Then, you saw her.

At first, she was just a figure, an unfamiliar silhouette standing at the threshold of your door, her back turned toward you. She scanned the apartment numbers, her hand hovering uncertainly. Her movements were slow, tentative, almost fragile, and it wasn’t until you took a few cautious steps forward that something clicked in your mind. There was a faint spark in her eyes, something familiar.

Spencer’s mother. You were sure of it.

Although you had never seen her face-to-face, you had seen enough photos to recognize her without hesitation. He had told you about her often enough for you to know as much as you could. But it was her eyes that confirmed her identity to you; they mirrored those of her son in a way that made your heart ache. The same sharpness in her gaze, the same small, thoughtful movements, the same undercurrent of quiet intensity that seemed to follow every action.

But you can see something else in her, something that wasn’t him.

A weariness, a loss. You could feel it in the air, thick and heavy around her, almost like an invisible fog clouding her mind. She was lost in more ways than one, and her presence was a reminder of everything he had tried so hard to shield himself from.

Swallowing, you kept your voice gentle.

“Hi,” you said, careful not to startle her. “Are you looking for someone? Can I help you?”

At the sound of your voice, she finally turned.

For a fleeting moment, her gaze met yours, and you saw the confusion settle in, subtle but unmistakable. Her brows knitted together, her lips parting as if forming a question she couldn’t quite grasp.

“You…you’re…no. You’re not…No, I thought…” Diana’s voice trailed off, barely more than a breath, lost and small, as she sighed, a sound heavy with defeat.

Your heart clenched.

“I think I know who you’re looking for.” You softened your tone, offering her a small, steadying smile. “Spencer, right?”

Her eyes flickered at the name, the briefest flash of recognition breaking through the fog. A tether, however fragile. She nodded slowly, her hand falling to her side in a motion that seemed more instinct than intention. Her eyes then drifted back to the door, and for a long moment, she seemed lost again, looking at the numbers as if they held the answers she was searching for, her thoughts adrift somewhere far away.

“I just want to see him,” she murmured. “I can’t miss his birthday again.”

Oh no.

The words hit you like a physical blow. Spencer’s birthday wasn’t for another couple of months. You knew that with certainty, but hearing it from Diana, the way she said it, with such unwavering certainty, made your chest tighten. She wasn’t just lost in space. She was lost in time itself. And the realization, sharp and painful, settled in your stomach, a stone that refused to be dislodged.

You glanced at her again, her fingers twitching at her sides, lips pressed together as though trying to hold on to a thought, a memory, something that kept slipping away from her. The confusion was thick, almost palpable, and it filled the space between you, leaving you with the distinct sense that you were intruding, stepping into a moment too fragile, too fleeting to hold on to.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

You weren’t supposed to meet her yet.

Not like this. Not without him.

You exhaled slowly, steadying the tremor in your voice. “He’s not home right now, but I can call him for you. Maybe we can wait inside?”

Diana’s gaze darted back to the door once more. For a moment, she seemed suspended in two realities: the one in her mind and the one in front of her. The world she remembered and the one she now stood in.

“No…I—I should go.” Her fingers curled at her sides, her voice fragile, distant. “I just wanted to see him. I just…”

You felt a lump in your throat. Spencer had told you about those moments, but he never went into a lot of detail because he was afraid of scaring you. But he'd given you enough to understand how much they hurt and how much they terrified him. He never said it directly, but you could tell when he talked about her. You could hear the tension in his voice, the way his hands started to shake every time he got a call and thought it might be from the nursing home she was in, how he spent his time reading huge books and researching ways to help her with her illness, and most of all, in how he had delayed letting you meet her for fear that you would be frightened to see his possible future.

But now, here you were, standing before her anyway, facing the woman who had given the world someone as brilliant and kind as Spencer, yet who now stood stranded in fragments of a past that no longer fit.

“Diana,” you said, your voice firmer now, gentle but insistent. “It’s okay. Spencer would want to see you. Let me call him. He’ll come.”

She hesitated, her fingers twitching slightly. Searching.

“You know my son?” she asked softly.

“I do. He’s—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. What were you to him? A friend? A neighbor? Something else? The definition had never been clear, but it didn’t matter now. “He’s important to me.”

Something in her expression shifted, though the confusion never fully left her eyes.

“I have a key to his apartment,” you added carefully. “He gave it to me in case he wasn’t here.”

Diana’s gaze dropped to your hand, where the key glinted under the dim hallway light. She studied it for a long moment, her thoughts drifting somewhere you couldn’t follow.

Then, finally, she whispered, “Okay.”

You guided her inside, the familiar scent of his apartment wrapping around you both like something solid, something safe. She sank onto the couch with a weary sigh, looking small, fragile, as if the very act of being here took more effort than she could afford.

“I’ll make some tea,” you said softly, trying to fill the silence with something tangible, something grounding.

Moving toward the kitchen, you kept her in your sights, watching as her gaze flitted around the apartment. Her eyes were looking around, at the walls that had seen Spencer's life in all its quiet moments over the past few years. After watching her for a moment, you noticed that she seemed to be especially focused on the various pictures hanging on the walls. You had painted some of them, and he had bought the rest in his attempts to discreetly help you monetarily. Most of the paintings were landscapes, one or two inspired by the books he always told you about and how you imagined them, plus even a portrait of Mittens playing on the balcony.

Until that moment, you hadn’t realized just how much of yourself had become part of his home.

Something in your chest tightened, but you pushed the thought aside, stepping away to dial his number.

The line rang once.

Then twice.

Then—

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer’s voice, quiet and concerned, almost as if he had been waiting for your call. “I wanted to talk, but—”

You exhaled, relief and uncertainty tangling together at the sound of his voice. “Hi. I’m fine. Um…your mom is here.”

Silence.

Then, the shift, something you had come to recognize when he was processing information at a speed faster than most people could follow. “She’s—wait, she’s where?” His voice was sharper now, alert.

“She’s safe,” you reassured him quickly. “We’re in your apartment. But…” Your voice softened. “She thinks it’s your birthday.”

Another pause. A breath.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost a whisper. “I’m coming. Please don’t let her be alone.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I won’t.”

“And…” His voice faltered, then steadied. “Thank you.”

The call ended.

You turned back to Diana, whose hands were wrapped around a cup of tea. The liquid swirled gently as she lifted the mug to her lips, the warm steam rising in a delicate plume. She looked at the tea, but her eyes weren’t focused. They were far away, somewhere beyond the moment, distant as though she had left this room a long time ago.

“Spencer’s coming,” you said softly, as if the quiet of the moment demanded it. You knew how much she hated noise. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her eyes flickered for a brief moment, a slight shift in the dullness that had clouded them. She blinked, and for a split second, it felt like she was with you again, her gaze a little clearer. But then, just as quickly, the fog returned, and she glanced up at you with a faint smile, one that was both familiar and distant, like a stranger trying to be someone you once knew. She took another sip, the sound of it like a small exhale in the room.

Carefully, you lowered yourself onto the couch across from her, keeping your movements slow, deliberate, as if any sudden shift might shatter the fragile tether that kept her here in this moment with you.

“You painted these,” she murmured, more statement than question after her eyes drifted back to the paintings on the walls, lingering for longer this time.

Your breath caught for a second. How did she know?

“Some of them,” you admitted, glancing at the familiar brushstrokes, at the colors you had chosen, the emotions you had poured into each piece. “Spencer liked them. He, uh…kept buying them even when I told him he didn’t have to.”

Diana’s lips twitched, just the faintest hint of a smile.

“He’s always been like that,” she said softly, her gaze distant but warm. “Always finding ways to help without saying it outright. As a boy, he would leave little notes in my books. Facts about things he thought I would like, little reminders of things I would forget. He never wanted me to feel like I was slipping away.”

For the first time since you had met her in the hallway, she didn’t seem frightened. She wasn’t lost, drifting between past and present. She was here. Grounded. Aware of the space around her.

It felt like magic.

But then, just as quickly as it came, something in her shifted again. Her brow knit together slightly, and her fingers smoothed absently over the fabric of her sleeve.

“But I still did, didn’t I?” Her voice was quiet, almost fragile. “I slipped away.”

There was no easy answer to that. No a good one.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “He loves you,” you said simply.

Diana’s hands, which had been moving idly over the fabric of her sleeve, stilled. Slowly, she turned her head toward you. And for the first time, she really looked at you, not in passing, not through the haze of misplaced time, but deeply, as if seeing you for exactly who you were.

Something shivered through you under the weight of her gaze. You wondered what she saw. The faint smudges of paint still clinging to your sleeves? The way your makeup, carefully applied, hid the faint traces of a bruise in your cheek? The cup in your hands, her son favorite, still bearing the faded imprint of your lipstick, because Spencer always refused to wipe it completely away?

Something unreadable passed beneath the surface of her expression, something quiet but powerful. Then, after a moment, her features softened.

“He talks about you,” she murmured.

Your pulse jumped.

“He does?”

“Not in long speeches. Not in obvious ways. But I know my son.” She exhaled, her gaze flicking back to the paintings, the bookshelf, the little details scattered around the apartment. “I know the way he holds on to things that matter.”

Her eyes found yours again, gentle but knowing.

“And you…you’re in the details.”

The words settled in your chest, warm and heavy all at once.

Your breath caught as her gaze flickered around the apartment. Not just at the paintings now, but at the bookshelf, where your art books sat nestled beside his. At the little traces of you woven so seamlessly into this space. The familiar hoodie draped over the armrest, too big to be yours but still carrying your scent. The unopened package of your favorite tea sitting on the counter, bought without a second thought.

Everywhere.

You were everywhere.

The realization pressed against your ribs, something warm, something steady, something undeniable that made you nostalgic.

Before you could find the right words to respond, the sound of the front door opening cut through the stillness.

Spencer stepped inside in a rush, his eyes immediately locking onto his mother, scanning her with that same mix of relief and worry you had come to recognize. His bag hung off his shoulder, his coat still half-buttoned as if he hadn’t even stopped to fix it in his hurry to get here.

“You?” Diana asked suddenly, her voice small, uncertain. “What are you doing here? You are not invited to his birthday.”

He froze, and so did you.

His mother was looking at him, but she wasn't really seeing him. She was seeing someone else, someone from her past. Someone whose hair and eye color he had inherited. Someone he had accused of being a murderer years ago. Someone who was the first to leave him and say goodbye with a letter. Someone who forced him to be the one to take care of the rest since he was a kid. She was seeing his father.

You saw it in his face, the way something inside Spencer broke into a thousand pieces. And only then did you realize the pain he carried every day. Because just when you thought you had Diana anchored in the present, she slipped into the past and dragged an unwanted memory with her. That was the worst part, going from having everything to having nothing. To go from having your mother to having a stranger.

The silence hung heavy between you, and then Spencer did something you hadn’t expected. Slowly, carefully, he sank to his knees in front of her. It was a gesture of both humility and desperate tenderness. You could see it in his body language, the way he made himself small, as though trying to reach the part of his mother that still remembered him.

“It’s me, mom,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, breaking the stillness with the weight of everything unsaid.

Diana’s gaze flickered, her fingers tightening slightly around her sleeves.

“I’m here,” he said again, his voice soft but firm. “I’m Spencer…your son.”

You stayed quiet, watching as something in Diana’s expression shifted. She blinked once. Then twice. Her lips parted slightly, her brows furrowing.

And then, finally her gaze cleared just enough.

“Spencer,” she whispered.

The weight in his shoulders lifted, just barely, just enough for you to see the breath he had been holding.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m here.”

Her fingers twitched in his grasp before settling. A long, slow exhale left her lips, and she leaned forward, just slightly.

Your heart ached at the intimacy of it, at the sheer relief in his expression, at the way his mother finally saw him.

You didn’t move.

You just let them have this moment.

Your heart still carried the weight of everything you had witnessed earlier that day. The ache in your cheek from where you had pressed your hand to your face was almost unbearable, but it seemed so insignificant now. The pain felt almost like a distant echo compared to the one you could see in his eyes, the raw, and unspoken hurt that had been etched into his life for so long. Every time you thought about him, about what he’d endured, it was as if your chest tightened, the reality of his struggles pressing in on you from every side. What had you seen today? A broken cycle of love, loss, and confusion. And Spencer…he had lived it over and over again.

After his mother had finally recognized him, there hadn’t been many words exchanged. The silence between them felt like the weight of a thousand unsaid things, thick with all that had been left unspoken for years. He had explained gently that it wasn’t his birthday today, that it was still months away, but they’d celebrate together when the time came. The sadness in his eyes even as he reassured her, and the tenderness with which he helped her back into the present, spoke volumes. You had stood there, a silent observer, an outsider in their fragile moment. You had smiled at Diana, said your goodbyes softly to her, and watch they two left, knowing there was nothing more you could say.

And when the tossing and turning in your apartment began to make you and your cat dizzy, you retreated to the couch on the first floor, right in front of the front door, and watched every person who entered. Your mind was filled with a million thoughts, but none of them seemed to make sense. You waited for Spencer, not knowing how much longer you could sit there, but not wanting to be anywhere else.

The minutes stretched, thick and heavy, suffocating in their silence. What could you say to him when he came back? Was there anything you could say that would make even the smallest difference?

Then, at the seventh sound of the door opening, the cold air rushed in, followed by that unmistakable, familiar scent of him. Spencer. Your heart lurched in your chest at the sight of him, the weight of his exhaustion and sadness hanging from his shoulders like a heavy cloak. His face was drawn, his eyes tired in a way that made it feel as if he’d aged ten years in just a few hours. He looked so broken.

“You’re here,” he said, a flicker of surprise crossing his features when his eyes landed on you, as though he hadn’t expected to see you standing there, waiting.

You gave him a small, automatic smile, trying to make it light, but it felt flimsy, like a mask that wasn’t quite right. “I was…looking for my correspondence,” you said, the lie slipping out with the ease of a long-forgotten habit, but it tasted hollow in your mouth, as if the words themselves were trying to escape. It felt like a flimsy excuse, a weak justification for why you hadn’t been somewhere else, anywhere else, but here, with him.

As you walked beside him into the hallway, you did your best to keep the air light, to make your steps unhurried, as though everything were fine, even though the very air felt heavy, full with things unspoken. You glanced at him, trying to break the silence with something simple, something safe. “How’s your mom?”

The words hit him like a blow. His entire body seemed to stiffen, the tension rolling through him like an electric current. You immediately regretted asking, wishing you could take the question back.

“She’s better now,” he said, his voice tight with the weight of his unspoken thoughts. “I stayed until she fell asleep.”

You nodded quietly, taking in the weight of his words. His world, and his life, was full of unpredictable chaos, of moments like this, moments that no one should have to endure. You didn’t need to hear the details to know how much it hurt him. You stepped into the elevator as he held the door open, the tension between you thick and suffocating. The doors closed slowly, the sound of them closing almost felt like the world itself was pressing in, leaving you both suspended in a silence that was heavy, too full.

“I’m glad she’s okay,” you whispered after a long moment, the words tasting like something too small for the weight of the situation.

“Thanks to you,” he replied softly, and there was so much unspoken in those four words that it hit you like a punch to the chest. The sincerity in his voice, the gratitude mixed with something more, something raw, caught you off guard.

It was as if the Spencer who had come back a few weeks ago, the one who didn’t want you around, had disappeared. The man standing before you was something else entirely, and for a moment, you weren’t sure which version of him was the real one.

And then you noticed. He wasn’t wearing his coat. His shirt barely covered his arms, and despite the warmth of the building, his body was shaking from the cold, his lips a pale shade of purple. The tremors were unmistakable, the way his body quivered with each movement. It wasn’t just the chill of the air; it was something deeper, something that made your heart clench with an instinctual need to protect him.

“You’re shivering,” you said, the concern in your voice rising, louder than you’d intended, but you couldn’t help it.

He shrugged, his eyes quickly falling to the floor as though he were ashamed of his vulnerability, trying to hide it away. “Oh, I gave my jacket to my mom,” he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips, as though he didn’t want them to matter, but they did. They mattered more than anything.

Without thinking, you took off the cardigan he had lent you so long ago, the one that had quietly become a part of you because it carried his essence. You draped it over his shoulders with a tenderness that startled you, instinctively wanting to offer him something, anything, to ease the shivers and make him feel good. But when you saw the look in his eyes, you froze. He didn't seem to be used to being taken care of anymore, not like this, not after being on the defensive for so long.

It was strange to you that after only three months away, he seemed to have forgotten the way you were always willing to take care of him.

“Don’t,” he said softly, his voice apologetic, as though he were making a quiet plea for something you didn’t fully understand. He didn’t move to take the cardigan off, but his words had a weight, and for a moment, you felt a strange, painful distance between you. “It’s yours.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, an unspoken question in your expression, and he continued.

“Technically, it’s yours,” he added, his voice quieter now. “I haven’t worn any of this stuff in a while.”

And then you understood. The clothes in his closet had changed. Gone were the soft, earth-toned cardigans and slacks you used to love, replaced by sharp, black suits and ties, clothes that looked like they belonged to someone else, someone trying to appear more sophisticated, more put-together, more respectable. It was as though he was trying to transform himself into someone else, someone who had moved on from the things he used to love, the things that reminded him of you.

“I know,” you replied, your voice quiet, carrying more meaning than just those two words. A sad smile curled on your lips. “I miss it…I miss you in it.”

The words hung between you for a moment, heavier than the silence. He didn’t respond, his gaze flickering away, but you could see something shift in him, a softness, something vulnerable. Without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing against his. His fingers were ice-cold, and you instinctively cupped them in yours, the warmth of your touch contrasting sharply with the coldness of his skin.

“I remember you once said something about the power of human warmth,” you said softly, your voice breaking the weight of the silence, a fragile smile on your lips. “Let’s try.”

The elevator was still, suspended in a moment that felt endless. Neither of you had pressed a button, and for a heartbeat, the world outside seemed to hold its breath. You were trapped between two floors, between the weight of the past and the uncertainty of what might come next. The world was still, but your hearts, your thoughts, they were swirling, caught in the same limbo.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice a little rough, a little uncertain. His breath caught as your warm fingertips brushed his, and for a second, the world felt smaller, softer.

“I don’t want you to freeze or get sick,” you whispered, the words soft but steady, even though your heart was pounding in your chest. “I want you to live longer.”

Because you really did want he to live longer.

Preferably forever.

And hopefully, always this close to you.

For a long moment, Spencer didn’t speak, the tension between you palpable, thick with everything unspoken. You almost apologized, the words tumbling from your lips, but before you could finish, his touch stopped you.

He grabbed your waist, pulling you close with a force that took you by surprise, pressing your bodies together in a way that was intimate, urgent. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you melted into him, your cheek resting against his chest, your hands sliding around his back. You could hear the steady, comforting beat of his heart beneath your ear, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside seemed to disappear. Everything else fell away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

The silence grew between you, and then, without warning, the tears came.

Hot, silent, as though they had been held back for far too long, breaking free from the calm of his chest. They soaked into the fabric of your shirt, but you didn’t care. You held him tighter, your arms wrapped around him, offering him what little strength you had left. The weight of his sorrow pressed against you, and you could feel the deep, guttural pain that had been locked away inside him. It spilled out of him in waves, raw and unfiltered, and you didn’t say anything. You simply held him.

His body shook with the force of his grief, his fingers clutching at your shirt as the tears kept coming. “I’m here,” you whispered, your voice a steady murmur in the chaos of his pain. “I’m here. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You gently stroked his back, your touch slow and grounding, the rhythm of your movements steady and soft. As he clung to you, you could feel the tension slowly begin to ease, just a little. His sobs quieted, the sharpness in his breath softened, and the storm inside him started to calm, just a fraction. In your arms, he found the space to grieve, to release everything he had held in for so long.

Everything shifted. The elevator, once a place of uncomfortable silence, became a sanctuary. A place where Spencer could let down the walls he had built around himself. A place where, for the first time in what felt like forever, he was free to feel, free to cry, free to just be. And you were there, holding him, never letting go.

And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like you were exactly where you needed to be: he was yours, and you were his.

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[call-sign-shark]

Pairing: The Darkling x Heartrender!You || The Darkling x HeartrenderOC!Reader

Summary: Here comes the day of your demonstration at the King's Court. Here comes the day General Kirigan cannot take it anymore, his self-control snapping. Here comes the day that will seal your fate and change everything.

Words: 6k.

TW: Misogyny, unhealthy relationship, very deep codependency, extreme pinning, sexual undertone, mention of prostitution and abuse, fluff -- your heart won't handle it. || Happy Happy Valentine's Day to you ♥ (a bit too early but who cares?)

Part VII - Blood and Honey

Previous || Masterlist || Next

If the Little Palace was extraordinary for a Ketterdam girl like you, it was nothing compared to the King’s place, which loomed large before you with its golden spires catching the late morning sun. You stepped out of the carriage behind General Kirigan, his gloved hand helping you with the step. 

You were barely out when two servants, both wearing a white kefta with gold embroidery just like Genya’s, walked toward you.

“What the hell do they want?” You growled, your wariness palpable.

Aleksander couldn’t help but let out a discreet snort at your disconcerting but truly irresistible lack of care for decorum. His hand gently squeezed yours – he had kept holding it – in order to ease the obvious tension that was creeping under your skin.

“I have to exchange a few words with the King before your encounter with him, so you must follow these two. They will lead you to a room, you���ll put on the outfit Genya made for you and then you’ll join me in the ballroom.” He explained with a graceful simplicity, his coal black eyes diving into your crystal irises, as they always did whenever he talked to you. 

As much as you disliked the idea of being left alone in that place with strangers, you agreed with a brief shrug, only because you didn’t want to come off ungrateful and cause a scene. Without complaint of any sort, you turned your heel to leave but Kirigan’s grip closed more firmly around you, causing you to look at him with surprise from above your shoulder. He slowly parted his lips to speak and his voice, though low and commanding, carried much more affection than what it seemed.

“Come back to me soon.”  The words left his lips like a vow, whispered in an almost urgent tone that sent shivers down your spine. It wasn’t just a request, it was a plea, as though the mere thought of you being out of his sight for too long was unbearable. You briefly nodded in reply, oddly shaken by his intensity, and followed the servants, feeling his scorching gaze burning on your back. Waiting, watching, wanting.

“Here. Just leave the room when you’re ready.” One of the two Grisha, with short hair and an adorable gap between her front teeth, said.

As the General had explained, you had been brought to a private chamber. It was a room bathed in the warm golden light of the sun coming through the silk curtains. In the corner, a full-length mirror stood, its surface gleaming like a quiet pool. Just like the rest of the Palace, the bedroom was richly decorated – certainly a bit too much to your liking.

Alright, you thought. You quickly took the heavy package Genya had given you earlier out of your bag and carefully unfolded the fabric that protected her creation. Once it was entirely revealed, lain across the mattress, your jaw dropped. 

The outfit consisted of a criss-cross top and a long straight skirt, both made of several layers of white sheer chiffon that seemed to catch the light and glow softly – as if Genya had sprinkled the fabric with diamond dust. Though simple, the two created a delicate, hypnotizing dress. However, it was admittedly a bit more revealing than what you had expected and it reminded you of the exotic gears Tante Heleen forced you to wear back then. You repressed a retch and kept your mind from spiraling by grazing the fabric. The delicate feeling of the garment when you ran your fingers over it even managed to make your lips curl in a faint smile. That was okay, you had worn much skimpier outfits for much shadier businesses. You slipped into it, your excitement sweeping bad memories off. 

The gown clung to your frame like a second skin, the translucent layers cascading around your hips like a waterfall of moonlight and bringing out your hourglass figure. Yet, it wasn’t the dress that was the most mesmerizing part of the outfit but what came with it.

A corset. Not a simple, leather corset but rather a masterpiece of gilded artistry. In fact, the frame was meticulously crafted in a ribcage shape made of gold. Each bone seemed to shimmer under the light, casting a warm and radiant glow against your diaphanous skin. You breathed an amazed “wow” at how it had turned the soft dress into an appealing and slightly eerie outfit tailored not for a human being, but for a Saint. For sure, the girl who had walked into that room was now gone, replaced by an ethereal creature who exuded both grace and power. The reflection that stared back at you in the middle, for once, didn’t seem foreign or broken. 

You slipped one of your long white locks of hair behind your ear and left the room, carefully closing the door behind you.

“Bring me to the King’s court, please.” You asked the servants and they obliged.

Chin up, dignity on, you repeated in your mind as a way to keep yourself quiet despite your heart hammering in your chest faster and faster at each step that brought you closer to the ballroom. You knew far too well that if you didn’t focus on something, you’d start to overthink and probably chicken out. Maybe that was why you passed through the heavy gates without giving it a second thought.

When you stepped into the King’s Court the room fell silent. 

Aleksander Kirigan stood in front of you, just at the end of the few steps that led to the throne. Imposing as always, he was dressed in his usual dark attire that created a stark contrast to the sea of vibrant colors around him. His ink-black eyes locked onto your frame when you entered and, for a heartbeat, the world came to a halt for him. A maelstrom of emotions washed over him at the sight, even though it manifested as a light, dreamy smile that curved his lips, as well as a flicker of genuine fascination that burnt bright in his irises. He had seen you in many forms – vulnerable as a kitten, fierce as a tiger, wary as a cornered wild animal, peaceful as a cat when you slept– but tonight, you were something else entirely and that new facet of you fanned the flames of his all-consuming desire. A surge of electricity ran through his body as he watched the way your dress seemed to float around you as you moved, while the unsettling gilded corset shone as a reflection of a strength even he couldn’t tame. Both beguiled and enamored, General Kirigan couldn’t look away for the life of his. The world could have crumbled all around him that he wouldn’t have noticed. Your ethereal beauty was everything he could pay attention to. You were a walking paradox, he thought, a living embodiment of light and shadow that only he could sublimate. That only he could own… 

One step after the other, Hev.

The grandeur of the hall was overwhelming – its vaulted ceiling adorned with crystal chandeliers refracting light into a thousand tiny rainbows. In that vast room, courtiers and other important figures of the Ravkan government were standing near the walls, their faces a blur of curiosity and awe at the sight of you: they might all live in the most disgusting luxury you had ever known, it still seemed pale in comparison with your spellbinding silhouette standing in the middle of them, fierce and unafraid. 

Your eyes were drawn to the dais where King Pyotr and his Queen sat, their presence commanding the room and yet, even their usually unimpressed faces seemed to turn into a curious but slightly fazed frown. But rather than focusing on them, you did the only thing you knew would keep you reassured: quickly surveying the room to find the General and keeping your attention on him and only him. 

Here.

Your breath hitched at the weight of his gaze, the intensity of it piercing through you. You held your head high, the ribcage corset lending you an air of defiance, but beneath the layers of chiffon and gold, your heart raced like a thousand horses. The faint sound of the crowd murmuring among themselves couldn’t reach you over the thunder in your tight chest. And to be fair, had your heart been quieter you still would have been only aware of Kirigan’s eyes – eyes which shone brighter as you approached him. The King and the Queen themselves exchanged a few glances, the tension between the General and you palpable, but you didn’t notice it for your focus solely remained on the man who had been your savior, your anchor, your haunting desire and, now, something you couldn’t yet name. Something deeper. An evidence, perhaps.

As you reached Kirigan’s side, the light of the chandeliers caught your long ivory mane, making it shimmer like starlight.

“You are…” Aleksander started, his onyx eyes falling onto your body and lingering there a bit too long to be devoid of lust. Then, his eyes bore into yours again, “Dazzling.” 

“Thank you, my General.” You replied with a tender smile, the softness in your irises betraying how delighted you were to be reunited with him again. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stand to be kept away for too long.

King Pyotr cleared his throat, growing bored of being ignored. Sitting at the far end of the hall, he was draped in a luxurious uniform, his crown gleaming on top of his thinning grey hair. Slouched down on his throne with his legs spread and his protuberant belly pressed down on his tight shirt, his eyes sparked with curiosity and skepticism as he appraised you. Beside him, the Queen wasn’t more welcoming. Surrounded by a few nobles who whispered, her gaze was undeniably sharp and judgmental. You couldn’t hear what they said but you were pretty sure they were laughing about you.

“General Kirigan,” The King interjected, his voice dripping with condescension, “You bring us a curious guest. Though I reckon she is… Interesting.”  

You didn’t know what he meant by interesting but the way he had said it didn’t please you. At all. 

Aleksander reluctantly turned to face the King before inclining his head to show respect, “Your Majesty, I present you Heaven Lavey. A newcomer in the Little Palace and a Grisha of unparalleled ability. I have come to petition for her freedom.” 

A murmur rippled through the court, eyes narrowing and mouths curling in derision. It was a strange sight to see the cold and terrifying Black General advocating for someone. Especially someone like…You.

“Freedom”, The King repeated as if he had just spat a bone out of his fish dish, then he leaned forward, “I’ve heard that she used to work on her back…” A little, cruel smirk played on his thin lips at the lascivious insinuation, “I didn’t know the unyielding General of the Second Army loved to partake in such… Hobbies. And I didn’t know he would get as far as introducing a whore to my Court.”

You bristled at the word, your pupils retracting into two black dots lost in the vastness of your frozen irises, but Aleksander’s hand gently brushed your back as if he had sensed your anger and wished to calm you. A subtle reminder that you must hold your composure, even through the hurt.

“What she had to do to survive in the hands of cruel masters does not define her, Majesty. You shall believe me when I say that she deserved to be free.” 

“And why, pray tell, would this… creature merit such consideration?” He raised a brow, clearly enjoying how his little jabs stirred a laugh from both the Queen and his Court just like a bunch of hyenas would do when circling their future meal.

“She’s no mere Grisha,” Kirigan said louder, his voice carrying the quiet force of a storm and a bitterness that were enough to cut the gigglings short, “Her powers are unlike anything we’ve seen, a gift to Ravka that deserves recognition and respect. Majesty, I’ve come here to introduce you to a Sankta. A Saint that can turn Ravka into the most powerful nation of the world. A saint that can tip the balance of any war. The cure and the bane to everything.”  He spoke, with passion and belief so strong it bordered fanaticism.

A Saint?

The King laughed, a sharp bark that resounded through the hall but, this time, he was the only one to do so, “ A Sankta, you say? Those are bold words, General. But I have yet to see proof of such claims. Demonstrate, or this is nothing but empty promises.” Punctuating his diatribe with a little hand gesture, King Pyotr slouched back on his throne, unimpressed and waiting to be entertained.

Fucker, Kirigan thought but rather than glaring at the King, he turned to you and frowned. His gaze, steady and unreadable, blazed with determination. If anything, he seemed even more infuriated than you by the King’s way of treating you,  “Show them.” He said softly, despite the anger, with a low but encouraging order. 

Now that you were here, the whole Court’s eyes set on you and the King’s expectation weighing heavy upon his shoulders, failing the Black General wasn’t an option.

You hesitated, the significance of the moment pressing down on you. How could you demonstrate anything breathtaking when months ago you were still running barefoot in the forest, unable to control the most basic abilities of your Heartrender nature? How could you prove that you were the Sankta Aleksander thought you were while all your life you had just been nothing more than a pretty yet random sex slave? Your palms went moist, tingling with the familiar hum of power, but doubt and anxiety gnawed at the edges of your resolve. What if you failed? What if you proved him wrong? What if–

“I…” You began, your haunting voice faltering. At that very moment, all you wanted was to run away from the Grand Palace and curl up in a ball small enough, somewhere in the woods nearby, to blend with the trees’ roots.

“You’ve got this,” Aleksander said to put a stop to your inner rambling that plagued you before stepping closer and sliding behind you, smoothly. When he stood behind, with his athletic body straight and unbreakable, his ungloved hands gently came to rest on the naked skin of your waist. The unexpected and firm touch made you jump a little, but it was oddly comforting. His thumbs gently pressed against your side to steady you as his fingers curled slightly in a possessive but not overbearing grip. A little sigh escaped your lips when the warmth of his palms seeped through your skin and melted your panic away. “I want you to take a long inhale and feel me,” He murmured into your ear only for you to hear. His lips brushed your flesh and sent shivers down your spine, “Feel me inside of you…” Fire burned in your stomach, “And let my strength guide yours.” 

And suddenly clarity came back to your mind, cleared from the thick fog of anxiety. All that remained was the familiar attraction that constantly pulled you toward him, more vivid than it had ever been. His own power buzzed, thrummed through your veins, and ignited you as he discreetly amplified your abilities like a rising tide. His touch wasn’t just calming, it was devastatingly ecstatic.  Transcendent. Cataclysmic. His force melded with your own, his soul merging with yours, and for an instant Aleksander and you seemed to be the very same person. Your racing thoughts froze as his amplifying power wrapped around you, making you feel complete.

In a life where you had always felt like some important piece of you was missing, felt like you had always been incomplete not to say empty, it was here, in the King’s Court, that you realized that what had always been missing all this time was him. The Darkling.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment and inhaled longly, bracing yourself for the demonstration. The hum within you grew stronger, feeling like a myriad of burning particles moving fastly through every fiber of you as the General’s shadowy power intertwined with yours. When you opened your eyes again, their ice had vanished – they weren’t the same anymore. In fact, their frozen blue was now of a greyish hue while your sclera had darkened to a deep, crimson red. A red so dark it almost looked black. Faint veins appeared around your eyes, like somber branches on fresh fallen snow.

Now. Kirigan’s voice resounded within you, in a low, sensual growl.

Moving instinctively, you raised your hand slowly, fingers trembling a few seconds before steadying for good. A subtle shift in the air caught the Court’s attention, all eyes set on you, waiting for a miracle in an almost religious silence. A loud exhale escaped your lips and, suddenly, your power burst like an invisible rogue wave. With one sole flick of your wrist, the dozen of guards who were flanking the royal couple stiffed, their bodies deprived of control and their movements no longer their own. At the very same time, they turned their rifles and aimed at each other with a horrified look on their face, their trembling fingers hardly a few inches from pulling the trigger. Their life was hanging by a thin thread, one movement away from a bloodbath. 

A chorus of gasps and cries erupted as the nobles scrambled backward in fear at such a display of power. Aleksander’s fingers dug deeper into your flesh in reply, enough to make your whole being aware of his possessive grip.

But you weren’t done with them, not yet. With a movement of your other hand, the entire assembly felt their knees trembling under an unseen weight. One by one, they began to bow, knee dropping on the marble ground in a sea of loud thuds. The crowd that had once been a mighty ocean, threatening to swallow you, was soon reduced to a puddle of shaking bodies bent all around you.  Even King Pyotr, with his smug grin wiped from his pig’s face now twisted with shock, found himself lowering onto the ground. His protests, though loud, got lost in the cacophony of panicked squeals and sobs. Because they knew. They knew that all it would take for you to end their pathetic little life would be a single little gesture.

Your chest heaved at the divine sensation of untamable, unstoppable power.

‘Enough,” Aleksander whispered in your ear in a soft, sultry voice that echoed in your skull. 

You released your hold at his command with a shuddering breath, arm dropping. The tension in the room dissipated almost as instantly. The guards lowered their weapons and the Court stood on their feet again, their bodies still shaking and their faces, formerly mocking, ashen. Simultaneously, your irises switched to their usual color. As for the dark veins around your eyes, they faded away as if they never were.

The King, who had quickly got back to his throne, was gawking at you, “Impossible…” He breathed.

Aleksander’s lips curved into a barely visible predatory smirk at the frightened reactions, exhilarated by them. He could smell the acrid fragrances of their fear lingering in the grandiose ballroom as they all observed you, wary of your every move. As the royal couple slowly regained their composure, you could feel Kirigan’s hands slip away from your waist, depriving you of his warmth. However, he remained nearby, protective. 

“You see now, Your Majesty, the extent of her powers. And this was just a foretaste of what she’s capable of, apart from her enhanced Heartrender’s abilities.” He raised a brow, trying his best not to sound arrogant despite the pride he felt booming in his chest, “ But you shall believe my word about that matter. After all, we wouldn’t want to turn this whole room into a slaughterhouse, would we?” 

The King said nothing to that. Instead, his gaze flicked between the white-haired doll and the cursed Black General, not knowing if he should be afraid or in awe. For sure you could be a great asset for Ravka, but he also couldn’t help but ponder what kind of monster you were.

You dared a glance at Kirigan, your icy eyes gleaming with a mixture of gratitude and anxiety.

“That was, indeed, impressive.” The King finally spoke after a long, tense silence, “We will… consider your request, General.” 

“I trust you will make a reasonable decision, Sir.” 

That was all he said. Without waiting for any kind of official dismissal, Aleksander inclined his head briefly and turned his heels, already leading you toward the exit. His long black kefta swept behind him as he walked, like shadows dancing in his grim sillage. 

Watching the General and his little white devil leaving, the King found himself almost hypnotized by the sight of these two. They were surely a drastic contrast, one of them all tall and clad in darkness while the short creature that followed him with light steps, looked like she was made of light with her pale skin and her long white hair swinging left and right at her hips’ discretion. She was so delicate compared to him, her full, rose-tinted lips against his slightly chapped ones, her eyes so blinding when compared to the blackness of his, and her features indescribably seraphic contrary to his sharp traits. Yes, she almost seemed out of place under his austere wing and yet, no one could deny that it was exactly where she should be. Where she belonged.

The weight of countless stares bore down on them, witnessing the work of fate under their terrified eyes. Fate. Exactly. That was fate that bound them, they could all see it in the way they moved – as if they were one, with their steps perfectly synchronized. Their unity was magnetic, speaking volumes about the bond that tied them together. A bond that had not been voiced nor rendered official but that was standing out a mile. As they reached the doors, the King caught a glimpse of the faintest motion: The General’s fingers gently brushed toward the Heartrender’s in an ever-tender gesture.

When he blinked they were already gone, leaving  in their trail only the ghost of their dreadful power and a visceral unease he couldn’t shake.

The door of the guest room closed behind you after the General had gently guided you inside with his hand on the small of your back. A habit he had taken whenever you’d walk together – as though he was unable to keep his hands off you. 

Now that the adrenaline of the moment started to gradually wear off, your body trembled a bit, still not over the intense bond it had just experienced under the tall darkness’ touch. You carefully beheld him as he locked the door, his face unfathomable behind the veil of his sternness but his square shoulders visibly tensed. The fear of disappointing crept under your skin again, unsettled by his silence. 

“How was I?” You dared to ask with an unsure tone, your voice breaking the silence. 

At the sound of it, Aleksander closed his eyes for a brief instant and relished its soft lilt all the while remaining silent. “Was that enough?” You pressed, unaware that your voice sounded like an enchanting melody to his ears. 

Letting out a long exhale through his nostrils, General Kirigan finally headed back to you with his cat-like gait and stopped in front of you. Your considerable height difference struck out as he towered you. The shadow of his tall, athletic figure cast its darkness upon you, while the two black holes of his eyes seemed to study your face with great attention as if looking for something hidden in your angel traits. His expression slowly shifted, considerably softening at the sight of your irresistible pout — how could such a lethal and cold creature like you look so nymphet at the same time? 

Aleksander raised his hand and, tenderly, his fingers reached for your cheek.

“More than enough.” His sultry, powerful voice said quietly but despite the low volume, it echoed in your skull. However, doubts flashed briefly on your face.

“But you’re the one who did it, right?” You said carefully.

“No, I only gave you a little push. You’ll soon be able to do that by yourself with more training. Trust me, Heaven… You were… Perfect.”  The weight of his somber gaze, as somber as a starless night, held you captive. For the very first time since you met, there was no darkness in it now, no calculated intent. There only was a hurricane of howling emotions. After centuries of mastering restraints, manipulation, and cold elegance, he finally stood before you, stripped of all. 

His warm fingers brushed along your cheek with an unbearable gentleness, tracing the curve of your face as if memorizing it, fearing you were nothing but a dream that might disappear at any moment. A mirage in the desert of his loneliness. The calloused pad of his fingers shook slightly, betraying the devastating power of what he was feeling. Boom. Boom. Boom. The faint but rapid drums of his pulse reached your ears — for a brief instant you thought it was yours that pounced in your ribcage but soon realized that no, it was the General’s heart. He exhaled, a shuddering breath, and suddenly he almost looked fragile. About to crumble under your touch. 

“Where were you?” His voice was hoarse. Thick with a tone perilously close to grief. His thumb smoothed over your pale cheekbone as his eyes burned into yours, “Where were you all this time, Heaven?” Where were you when the shadow devoured me? When both pain and madness ran through my veins like shards of broken glass?

Your lips parted to say something but your voice got caught in your throat for there was something absolutely heart-shattering in the way he said your name, like a prayer filled with pleas, ache, and hope.

“No… Where were you?” The words escaped you before you realized it, your very soul speaking before your mind. 

His onyx eyes, usually two voids swallowing everything whole, now brimmed with something dangerously close to unshed tears. The pain of centuries pressed between you — all these empty years, all the longing that had never been met, all the sleepless nights of crying and hating… All came to an end today.

He leaned over you to bring his face closer.

Your breath hitched, your body tightening in response to the insufferable, suffocating pull that kept bringing you back to him. A pull that felt like barbwires wrapped around you: the further you were from him, the tighter the barbwires, as if their metallic knots were ripping your skin apart. And contrariwise, the physically closer, the more the barbwires loosened and the pain vanished. 

“This —“ He whispered, hesitating. The aftermath of what had happened in the ballroom still crackled in the air, the memory of your powers melting into each other. Now that he had tasted what it was to become one with you and be complete, the idea of being apart from you felt unendurable. And, frankly, it was. You felt it too: the impossibility of going back to the restraint that had defined these past months. The agony of pretending that what burned between you could be ignored, “This is unbearable. I can’t take it anymore.”

“So make it end, Aleksander.” 

Aleksander. 

His name fell from your lips, confidently. 

Aleksander. Your voice echoed in the shadows, each syllable melting as you claimed their ownership. A muscle twitched in his jaw at the sound of his name in your sinful mouth. It made something snap inside of him. His hand slid down to your throat, fingertips ghosting along the beat of your rapid pulse.

The Darkling gently pressed his forehead against yours and a quiet, breathless laugh fell from his lips — one that held no amusement, only disbelief. 

“My name. Say it again.” He murmured.

You exhaled sharply as the distance between your bodies faded away with every fleeting minute. Your hands lifted without a second thought, drawn to him just like the tide is pulled to the shore. One hand rested on his chest against the fine fabric of his back kefta, just where the fast, erratic thrum of his heart lied beneath. The other reached for his face, your thin fingers grazing the sharp line of his jaw the same sensual way his own hand had so reverently did to you moments ago. The scratch of his beard under your skin made your shiver.

Aleksander’s breath quickened and fanned against your mouth before mingling with yours. Neither of you moved away. Neither of you could. Neither of you wanted to. There was no escape anymore. 

And, finally, the dam broke.

“Aleksander.”  You repeated, and the Black General, that monster everyone feared, suppressed the last inches that separated you. 

His lips came to crash into yours, capturing your mouth with passion. You answered his kiss immediately — a kiss that was desperate and searing. As the wildfire of your desire unleashed, Aleksander slightly parted his lips, the tip of his tongue seeking yours. They bumped into each other timidly at first before they started to dance together in an infernal waltz.

You tasted like blood and honey.

He tasted like smoke and sadness.

Devouring each other like starving wolves, your bodies ignited with love and lust. The Darkling left hand lost itself in your long white mane, tugging at it a little to make your head tilt and deepen the kiss furthermore, while his other hand pressed firmly against the small of your back to pull you flush against him. At each friction, each fervent movement, your knees weakened. Hadn’t he been embracing you so tightly you would have collapsed. Embracing you so tightly you could feel the slightest details of what was hidden behind his clothes: His strong chest against your small, perky breasts, his lean stomach against yours, and his leg slightly pressing between your thighs, right on the thin lace thong that barely hid the wet petals of your slit. The sensation made you gasp into his mouth – Aleksander fed on the sound hungrily. 

His grip tightened even more around you, his love for you so maddening he almost wished he could tear you apart to sink further into your skin. He kissed you like no other man ever did, and the world disappeared — there was no court, no king, no war and no Tante Heleen anymore. There was only him. Only you.

Aleksander broke the kiss, leaving you almost gasping for air. His mouth trailed lower, and brushed against your jaw,  warm lips grazing your neck as breathless words slipped from them, “Do you have any idea,” He whispered against your skin with a hoarse voice, your flesh buzzing beneath his mouth, “what you do to me?” 

”I don’t,” You breathed and tilted your head to grant him full access to your throat, your crystal eyes half closed as his fingers clutched on your waist, “but I think you quite like it.” You purred with a rich and siren-like voice, laced with a quiet teasing tone. Your wild spirit had him stilled for a fraction of a second, his breath rasping before his lips curved against your neck in a dangerous smirk. 

“Perhaps I do.” He admitted in a low, seductive growl. 

Fuck, you thought. Your own fingers tightened in his coal-black hair and pulled it back just enough to meet his gaze — those endless black eyes that had always pierced through your soul and made you feel naked. Black eyes that were entirely, overwhelmingly, fixed on you. Devoted to you.

You leaned in again, your plump and saccharine lips just a breath away from his but you didn’t kiss him a second time yet despite Aleksander’s silently begging you for it. Instead, you let the moment stretch, drowning in his intoxicating perfume and letting him feel the unbearable anticipation he had inflicted upon you that night in the map room, “Then let’s fall together, General.” 

Your lips collapsed with his again but sloppier this time. It started as a little peck. Then a second, before turning into a soft and moist kiss, tongues gently stroking each other, like the warm rain of a hot summer night. Aleksander leaned into the kiss, his dark eyes shut close and his hands pawing at your waist hungrily to keep you trapped against his tall, lean figure. As your mouths explored the other, your bodies moved in a very slow rhythm, gently grinding together – your clothes were definitely more of a burden than anything else now.

Starting to feel needier, Kirigan trapped the juicy flesh of your lower lip between his pearly white teeth and tugged at it. He wanted you. He needed you. Now and always.

But a sharp knock at the door shattered the moment.

“General Kirigan,” a voice called through the wooden door of the guest room, “The King wishes to talk to you. He has reached his decision.” 

Silence hovered above the room for a brief instant even though the electricity of the moment still lingered and turned the air thick. Aleksander didn’t move, not quite willing to let reality intrude just yet. Nevertheless, he knew that his duties as a general had to come first, at least for the sake of your freedom. Crossing the King now would be the worst timing ever.

Aleksander exhaled slowly as he gently rested his forehead against yours and remained like this for a moment. His breath was still shallow and his heartbeat thumping. It was after what seemed to be an eternity for the man calling him behind the door, that he finally but oh-so-reluctantly stepped back and walked to the door. Before opening it, his strong hand froze on the knob and, despite the emergency of the situation, the General waited a bit more. He couldn’t help but glance at you one last time. His black eyes lingered on you, dark and unreadable again, though the unmistakable fire of love burned in them quietly.

“Come back to me soon.” You said calmly, but your soul screamed within you, unwilling to let her twin flame go.

Aleksander smirked when he heard you use the exact same words he used earlier. Cunning little Devil, he thought. Then turned and left the room, leaving you standing there alone with your body humming from his touch and your lips still tingling from his kisses. As his footsteps faded in the corridor, the echo of his shadows resounded in your heart and whispered a fierce truth:

It wasn’t over.

It had only just begun.

☾ Please consider interacting if you want the story to continue. It is what motivates writers to write the next chapters.

☾ Taglist: @lunawants , @emtaz-art, @lightinbug, @kmc1989, @thepassionatereader @mystic-mara @m-riaa @kallista-diune @meadows5 @kasagia @watersquirtpewpewboomm @the-sweet-psycho @sarahsobsession @elizabethblood9 @ritzzzzz @sophialeiros

[elliespaggetti]

GET IT - CHOI SEUNGHYUN

LUCKY FOR ME - LAUFEY

a/n: im so sorry i posted this so freaking late, i legit got HARASSED by school, and mostly have been feeling lazy. I will update this series every week, or bi-weekly, depending on my mood. again, i apologise for updating this series so late, and enjoy my babies.

(this is a oneshot collection, but if you want part twos request them)

warnings: swearing, no beta read femme reader fluff VERYYYYYYYY short.

summary: After being hired as a translator for BIG-BANG'S shows, you cover for your friend who was supposed to fetch their outfits for tonight's show. But then, unexpectedly, they had moved the outfit section months ago, and now you have no idea were you are. But then, a certain someone comes as your savior.

get it masterlist

Why the fuck did I agree to this? I have absolutely no idea where the fuck I am.

You walked in the so-called closet, but no clothes are in sight.

The room was covered wall to wall with awards, and the floor was a marble white. I glanced at the floor, and I was met with my own reflection. It was really that white, wasn't it.

My eyes flicker to the wall, and I walk closer to take a look at them.

"MAMA, AWARD FOR SONG OF THE YEAR" The words were printed neatly around the base of the award.

These are all the awards that they have won, I realise.

I turn around to call my friend to complain that the closet wasn't where it was, where i was met with one of the band members.

"Impressive, isnt it?" Seunghyun says in broken english. You look up to see him leaning against the small frame of the door.

"Hah, I speak Korean. I'm a translator." You speak in Korean, surprising him.

"Oh, well thats a relief. It would have been really awkward." he huffs, and you both share a tense glance.

"Anyways..." You start, "I have to go and complain to my friend that I have no idea were your costumes are for tonight show" You walk forward, trying to escape this intimating show-down.

"Wait, I can show you to it, if you like." He offers. Its much better then just wandering around, hoping to find it.

"Well, okay" You accept, vowing to curse out your friend for not having better instructions.

He makes room for you to walk through the frame of the door, and you both start walking, him leading.

"So...." he starts, trying to make conversation, something that you desperately didn't want. "What are you doing here? Arent you supposed to be translating?'

You laugh before answering "Well, my friend was out sick, and she asked me to cover for her."

"So what does that have to do with you sneaking around the trophy room?" He jokes, but gives you a serious look.

"Well, she had to get the clothes for the show tonight, and my dumb ass thought that was the closet. Sorry for lurking around.." You apologize.

"No, it's okay." Seunghyun reasures, and he stops.

You hadn't noticed, but you had arrived at the closet.

It was filled to the brim with clothing, mostly brightly coloured. It hurt your eyes to look at, but you were still thankful for Seunghyun's help guiding you. You glance at Seunghyun, and you see him mesmerized, like he had never been here before.

"Wow, its been a while since ive been here..." He breathes, meeting your gaze.

"Well, thank you for taking me here." You say, before freezing. Should you hug him? I mean, you both just met each other, and you technically work for him.

Before you could decide if their should be any contact at all, you hear a voice.

"Seunghyun! Come here for a sec!" The voice yells, and his eyes furrow.

"Im sorry we couldn't talk more. I have to go. Can you talk later?" He questions.

Honestly, your surprised that he would even want anything to do with you.

"Oh, sure.." You say, before he turns around and walks towards the exit.

Thank god he was faced away from you, or else he would have saw the blush that covered your face.

" Lucky for me, I guess" You mumble, and turn around to try and find the outfits for the show.

---------

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

part iii (part i & part ii)

“Well, here we are. Not a great place to be. It isn’t about your value as a person, but it is about our connection, our compatibility, and just how drawn we are to each other - or not.” “Some of you have had your attention elsewhere at times. Which is fine - I’m hardly going to be monogamous during this, so it would be hypocritical of me to expect that of everyone else. But while other contestants had multiple romance bars and were still able to show me their interest at the same time, that hasn’t been the case with everyone.”

“Wait - is that my dress?”

“Struan, initially you were something of a dark horse, and you started this round strong by winning a date with me. If someone had told me that you’d be in this position last round, I’d be surprised, but in hindsight it’s not so shocking. It seems like you’ve soft checked out of this competition, and Jon Bon Pony isn’t entirely to blame for giving love a bad name - I’m sorry, they make me say things like that sometimes.”

“Giovanna, after Round One I wasn’t quite sure why you were here, and this last time has solidified to me that this really isn’t for you. The romantic potential just isn’t there, so I hope that like me, you leave this competition with no regrets and having made at least one good friend. But this round was to be your last. I have no doubts about my choice, but I will miss your company - and your calming presence in the household.”

“Briar, you made a strong impression on me during your introduction, but since then you’ve plateaued. I’ve initiated all the flirting between us, and on the final night instead of trying to increase our romance level, you got cozy in the kitchen with Forest. Again, no shade from me, but I believe that you’ve shown where your attentions lie, and in my case, where they don’t. You were an absolute delight but this will also be your last day in the competition. I won’t be the only one who misses you, and I wish you all the best.”

“Avery, while I’m glad that we made up some ground, I struggle to get a read on you, and I’m not sure that you know what it is you want. Even though you’ve scored higher, I feel as though I have a stronger connection with Cassie than I do with you. You blow a little hot and cold. While I like some degree of chaos in my life, I still like to know where I stand with people. Take next round to figure it out.”

“Jayla - it’s hard to do this to my hometown girl, but I think that romantically at least, we like the idea of each other more than we actually like each other. We’ve tried but it’s just not there. Perhaps we’re too similar in all the wrong ways and yet too different in others. So this is goodbye - for now. And if after that dress your Simder isn’t completely going off back home, then I’m going to have beef with all of SanMy. Just steer clear of a certain crooner we both know - he’s a jealous little bitch, and he’s bad at woohoo.”

“Cassie. I’m sure that you’re actually a secret agent of some kind. I’m kidding - please don’t eliminate me. You’re sociable but aloof - it’s an intriguing combination. You kind of fit in without entirely belonging, and I’m wondering how you are in your real life. There’s some chemistry between us though, and losing your HOT HEADED trait means that we have GOOD compatibility for the first time ever. Let’s see where next round takes us.”

“Which unfortunately means that Struan, you will not be joining us in the next round. But you also won’t be leaving entirely empty handed. I’ll say my proper goodbyes to you and everyone else tomorrow.”

how scores were calculated

Notes: As it would have been more realistic, I gave pixels another formal outfit during this ceremony. Behind the scenes, let's say a haute couture rental company is promoting - and encouraging Lilac's whole sustainability schtick.

I tried to stay true to their style, and their likes and dislikes. The only one who disliked their clothes was my ungrateful pixel - smdh 😅

Farewell posts for Giovanna, Briar, Jayla and Struan will go up in the next few days - along with their scores. They were all a joy to play and will be missed 💔 Once that's done, I'll post the final table.

@x-digitaldollhouse-x @bakersimmer @ravingsockmonkey

@jonquilyst @tipsy-clouds @lindyloosims

[girldriveroscar]

my issue with the photoshoot is how they've managed to make oscar look so stocky... the boy has one of the most beautiful figures on the grid, the dorito chest, his grabbable waist, voluptuous hips and ass, yet they've hidden everything!!! and the volume of clothes over his upper body gets even more exaggerated by putting him in skinny jeans, no balance at all... and the hair!! whose idea was to slick his hair all the way back, exposing his three kilometers of a forehead

imo a crime to make this handsome dude look all blocky and awkwardish

GENUINELY SOOOO INFURIATING TO ME. had they done the absolute Absolute bare minimum to not style a bulky ass jacket Over a hoodie. Crying he looks Just so awkward. if they'd brought One Pair of actual pants to the shoot. and didn't just let him rock those terrible falling off the ass skinny jeans. PULL YOUR GOT DAMN PANTS UP.

What I would give to just see Oscar in a nice fitting shirt. some wide leg light wash jeans and clean sneakers. like am I asking for So Much. oh the skinny jeans and boots. god why. do they rly have that little perception of their own driver to not realize why the Bad Boy vibe just flops So So SO badly on Oscar. he needs to be boy next door or corporate crush! use his femininity and masculinity maybe? give him something that emphasizes his whole body and Not just his hips and Not Just his shoulders. head in my hands. so much. untapped potential.

lizard brain says yes I love gatekeeping Oscar. I love keeping his hotness a secret. but I also. Do Your Job Mclaren brain loathe seeing him just be an afterthought on these shoots bc he himself doesn't put thought into his clothes. ITS NOT HIS JOB TO. IT SHLD BE THE STYLISTS AHHHHagain. again.again. he rocks up to the paddock looking chopped. idc. that's my driver. but in an ad? in promo content? pleaseeeeeeeeuh.

and honestly too this isnt Just a hotness thing. i do Genuinely believe hed garner more serious respect if they made him look cool. objectively speaking. a fraction of kimi’s appeal was that he didnt look like a nerd. he looked badass. (and before someone gets smart. kimis outfits werent anything crazy. But. his editorials WERE GOOD! and his shit fit!). argue w the wall ur looks matter in this sport and if mcl were smart theyd give any attempt at winning over the “yeah i think oscars a great driver w a cool personality” ppl over with a half decent visual persona.

oscar can remain authentic and have jeans that fit him flatteringly

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.218 Giving me life

The next day, I made a point to get up extra early so we wouldn't have another frantic mad-dash out the door. That kind of stress isn't good for anyone. I took a long, hot shower, did my hair, and put thought into my outfit vs. just grabbing something. I went to get Desi up, but as always, she had already beaten me to it. She was playing in her room, so I left her to make breakfast. We enjoyed a nice, slow morning, just like in the old days, but something troubled me. I had another nightmare. This time aliens abducted me, and they did all kinds of experiments on me while I was still conscious; it was terrible. I know it's natural to have lingering stress after a traumatic event, but the trouble I felt didn't seem related to the fire. The heaviness around me felt more unsettled than fear or panic. Deep down, waaaay in the crevices of my subconscience, I knew what plagued me, but I hadn't allowed myself to address it. The fire trauma was just the mechanism used to get my attention, and now, with all these nightmares haunting me, I can't ignore it. I kept telling myself I wasn't ready and stuffed those thoughts in the farthest parts of my mind, but I should have known they would come back to bite me. I need to visit the cemetery.

The groundskeeper threw away all the flowers and candles we had left at each visit; that's how long it had been. I was so ashamed at the sight. Their name plates were all dusty, and my grandparents' were barely legible from being covered in dirt. I knelt in front of Mama and wiped away the dust.

"I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't think I was ready to see you, so I kept putting it off. But days turned to weeks, and weeks into months, and here I am."

"So many things remind me of you, and I can't stand it. But I love it too. You're unforgettable, not that anyone could ever forget their mother. I don't know what I'm saying... Desiree is so big now. We had a fire at our house, and she's still pretty rattled, so I don't think bringing her here will be a good idea right now, but as soon as she's ready, I will."

"Less' kids are great. A little rambunctious, but great. And she's excellent with them, too. You would be so proud of her. I bought a duplex in San Sequoia so she could live next door. It's been great. I'm doing what you asked: taking care of my sister."

"Long time ago, you told me to find someone who fits into my life who I can't live without. Every day, Sophia shows me how there is no one else in this world who could have given me such a wonderful life. I may have had a lot of insecurities about relationships early on, but I never forgot what you told me. I always thanked Dad and gave him credit for getting me from a boy to a man, but I never gave you credit for giving me a framework to guide me. So...yeah. Thanks."

"It looks like it's gonna rain soon, so I guess I'll get out of here. Hopefully, you'll be able to see this before it goes out. I'm lighting a candle, so you'll know I was here. I love you, Mama, and I wish you could see how wonderful my life is. We've had lots of challenges, but I wouldn't trade any of it. I miss you. I'll see you soon."

I stood there in silence, remembering our good times and feeling grateful for the wisdom my parents bestowed upon me. An odd surge of energy coursed through my body, and I knew for sure this visit was what I'd been needing. The truth behind my procrastination is simple: I didn't want to feel broken again. Grieving my parents, especially Mama, drained me, and I felt like I would never be whole again. I hated that feeling and didn't want to experience it again. But standing there, holding that candle, thinking about my beautiful mother gave me life.

I put down the candle and started to leave. Just before I reached the exit, I heard, "Wait! I'm here!"

"Me too," another echoed voice said.

Both of them?? What are the odds?

All at once, I was a little kid again, happy and excited about hanging out with his parents. Mama wanted to know about the duplex, so I started from the very beginning with Dub moving to San Sequoia and buying his house. I rambled on and on about that, and the money tree, and our vacations, and Desi getting into yoga, and my SimTube channel... I felt like Chi Chi had possessed me, ha ha. Talking to them again filled me with such delight.

I thought hearing about everything they missed might upset them, but my life events elated them. I swear, with every story I told, Mama got more and more pumped up. By the time I was done, she was squealing with excitement. I guess when you live a full life like she did, you don't feel like you're missing out when you die. You just cheer on everyone as you watch them grow. That's a life lesson right there.

"I'm so proud of you," Dad said.

Hearing those words again healed my soul. I tend to think I live right and make good decisions, but receiving affirmation that I'm on the right track never gets old. I'm really glad I came.

[pinkreveluv6]

🤯

This is genuinely the face I made when I landed on this. Truly left me aghast.

Let’s embark.

To set about, I want to take a moment to talk about the aus your wonderful mind has chosen instead of the background this time because…well it’s quite apparent or at least I’d hope.😆

Now, as I was saying,

OF COURSE the gender bent one was necessary. We ALL know gender bent!au is a classic in the history of aus so it just HAD to be there. Including the idol!au was also a paradigmatic choice but still dainty whatsoever. I mean how could you not he’s kinda your idol in a way. The one that diverted my attention the most was the scene!mi and gyaru!sei. HOW did you even come up with such a BRILLIANT idea. This concept is beyond perfection I fear. It’s TOO magnificent to say the least.

To launch about, the genderbent!au is respectfully so harmlessly eccentric. I was cackling at its goofiness (again,said endearingly) for a while 😂

The way you just have your hands on your hips and you’re smiling as though you’re lost (perhaps you are) or you haven’t a singular clue of what’s happening is quite silly of you. Don’t get me started on Akashi and his pigtails… He would ABSOLUTELY wear his hair like this I don’t care what anyone says. It looks as though you guys are gossiping about something judging from Akashi’s pose -very befitting of his emperor persona if I may add- and that face he’s currently making (reminds me of Disgust in Inside Out). Honestly, love the outfits.It’s only natural that fem!Akashi dresses herself with her shirt tucked in her skirt and then proceeds to add the suit on top-Girlboss behaviour tbh-. I actually also dress quite similarly to this except for the fact that I don’t wear skirts.Love the hairstyles.The way you styled your short hair is actually very precious to me you look so adorbs. Akashi in a pigtail is going to be stuck on my brain for a while (not like I mind she’s so cute honestly). And love the expressions, it’s giving joy + disgust 😭 Also body TEA for you Miguel. I’m so jealous.

Persisting matters towards the idol!au.

Your artstyle assimilates perfectly with the background.

Even though I am as clueless as you were on the genderbent!au, I love your completely mystified face. It seems like you are just a commoner going out for a walk after running through some errands (?). Coincidentally, Akashi was having a probably free concert, a venue or something of that sort (which is why he has that mic set and those k-pop idol-like outfit). You just watch him, completely enchanted by Akashi -You have great anatomy of the human body btw-. And when your eyes collide,BOOM! Love at first sight! and then you blush

So yea that is my little story of how you ended up in that situation.

About the outfits: I just know you took inspiration from k-pop idols because I swear I’ve seen that type of outfit a million times on that industry. Akashi unsurprisingly looks SO good in it like I can’t even describe the goodness of it. And I believe the words on your shirt read "Chemical Romance". You’re not slick buddy.

Now let’s latch onto my favourite au out of the three - gyaru+scene core misei

*takes a deep breath*

YOU JUST ACTED AS AN APOTHECARY BY DRAWING THIS AU.

Holy smokes who could’ve taught gyaru Akashi. The tan is life-changing but personally the gyaru in all generality is doing it for me.

The makeup overlapped with the tan is soo pleasing to the eyes like the blush. But the eye section is on a whole other level. I relished this exceedingly. The eyeliner,the eyelashes and his eye colour just click which is darling. And the accessories are on a whole different dimension. They just made the outfit a zillion times better. From the oh-so dearie clips down to the string as a necklace to the sweetie long fingers and nails coloured in red. Oh and the clothes. Pink and brown is one of my absolute favourite colour combinations and I believe it is also quite popular within the gyaru style. So when I saw Akashi wearing it, it made me tremendously satisfied because it fits the aesthetic so much.

And you in scenecore 🥹💕

I personally think that you’d be the type of person that would absolutely ROCK this dressing style in real life. I think you should give it a try if you’d want to, you’d look absolutely terrific! It looks like you’ve also had some slight makeup done uniformly on the eye side. The eyeshadow (similar to Akashi’s) oh my god this is so historic. That isn’t even remotely as glamorous as the additional yellow striped on the side of your hair nor the piercings on your lips. Matching-in-a-way necklace with Akashi, LOVE that. That bracelet (I forgot the term) is so funky especially with black nail polish! And your outfit is truly groovy.

Fun fact: @xiiiivyxx used to have this pencil case that had the exact same character on your shirt 😂

A detail I forgot to mention is that I couldn’t help but realize that you incorporated three different art styles on each au. Don’t know if it was intentional or not but I’d love to see more of this.

So basically all of this made my girl heart pound with joy. Thank you 🙏

Remember to take care of yourself and to not overwork yourself so as to not drain yourself!🫶🏻

Ciao!

i had way too many ideas for alternative universes but these were the ones who caught my eye the most. you can't tell me fem sei wouldn't have her hair up in pigtails, especially as bokusei. some people say that she would have a tidy ponytail but just hear me out on this.

once again, backgrounds are not mine. i tried drawing a background today for the first time and it went way too badly. i'l post it tomorrow though.

anyway, that's about it! the event is by @strawbeaniie !!

🏀 | the usual best friends: @pinkreveluv6 @pigeonbksimp @japeneselunchtimerush @sweijuro @fl0ralsxgar @ilovemaiubo ♡

[dragon-giggles]

Them ❤

[secretsimpleness]

Sometimes I want to bring Morrigan but then I remember I play as a face-tanking rogue and I bring Wynne. Warden Cousland, Morrigan, Wynne / Dragon Age Origins (c) Bioware

[lokh]

"another ambush? really?"

anji is typically more discreet with his info gathering, but how can he help himself when asuka reacts like that every time