#and my dash just keeps getting better and better

[bueckets]

thank you for taking the time to read my works. below you'll find a collection of my series and standalone stories organized for easy browsing. i hope you find something that gets you onto santas naughty list.

Series

The Prophecy | Finished

Description: They call her The Prophecy—basketball’s impossible phenomenon, rewriting what it means to be perfect on the court. With a near-flawless shooting record and a mind just as sharp in aerospace engineering as it is in breaking down defenses, her name sparks awe, envy, and relentless scrutiny. But perfection has its cost.

But even legends have weak spots. When a high-stakes matchup against LSU draws the attention of Paige Bueckers—the golden face of college basketball—The Prophecy’s flawless world starts to crack. On the court, they’re rivals, locked in a battle for supremacy. Off the court, late-night texts and shared moments blur the lines between competition and something much harder to define.

Word Count: 30K

Part: Start Here

The Hit List | In Progress

Description: When an overworked engineering student's late-night CAD project gets interrupted by a very drunk, very lost basketball star stumbling into the wrong dorm room, she learns that some defensive plays work better in love than on the court.

What starts as a case of mistaken identity turns into an unexpected game of cat and mouse when UConn's golden girl, Paige Bueckers, can't seem to take a hint– or maybe just doesn't want to. Armed with nothing but sarcasm, an overprotective stuffed bear named Mr. Gummy, and a borrowed team jacket that definitely isn't helping the situation, our engineering hero finds herself drawing up plays to defend her heart against college basketball's most persistent point guard.

They say offense wins games, but defense wins championships. When you're trying not to fall for a girl who treats the court like her kingdom and your personal space like a suggestion, maybe it's time to admit some battles aren't meant to be won.

Word Count: 34k

Part: Start Here

One Shots

Thin Walls

Description: When a sleep-deprived biomed student moves in with UConn’s most notorious heartbreaker, you expect late-night film study, protein shake graveyards, and an apartment perpetually scented like sweat and victory. What you don’t expect? Thin walls. And Paige Bueckers making absolutely no effort to keep her extracurricular activities quiet.

What starts as a battle for basic human decency turns into something far messier—petty revenge plots, mind games laced with innuendo, and an unspoken tension that neither of you is willing to name. Paige plays like she owns the court, like she owns the world, and maybe—just maybe—like she wants to own you, too.

They say pressure makes diamonds, but when it comes to Paige Bueckers, it just might make a disaster.

WC: 8.4k

Read Me

Going UP?

Description: From missed alarms to broken elevators, your Tuesday couldn’t get worse, well, until it gets better. When a late-running grad student’s desperate dash to save her thesis turns into an unexpected elevator encounter with UConn basketball sensation Paige Bueckers, she learns that sometimes the best assists come from broken machinery.

Armed with nothing but coffee-fueled anxiety and an encyclopedic knowledge of basketball analytics, you find yourself trading quips with college basketball’s golden girl in a stalled elevator. What starts as a disaster turns into something else entirely when basketball theory meets practice, terrible jokes meet dangerous grins, and hot chocolate meets, well, everywhere except the mug.

They say love is a game of chances. But when you’re trapped between floors with a girl who can bend physics on the court and make your heart run suicides off it, maybe it’s worth taking the shot.

Sometimes cupid doesn’t use arrows. Sometimes he just breaks the elevator.

Word Count: 8.1K

Part: Start Here

[short-honey-badger]

How would you think yandere shamrock would react to a s/o trying to fight back or run away

Warnings! Gaslighting, non-con elements ahead!

Shamrock Masterlist -> HERE

Shamrock finds it amusing that you think you can try to run from him. He would pretend not to notice the obvious signs of your escape, would allow you to get all the way out of the household even, watching from afar as your shoulders slumped in relief, thinking that you were free. Only to dash those hopes away when he appeared at your side, silent as a ghost.

The holy knight would sigh, a look of disappointment etched on his face, head tilted to the side and arms crossed over his chest. Shamrock would relish in your look of dismay, the tears of terror that would well up in your eyes. You should have known better than to think you could get away from your dear lover.

"Not trying to run away from me, are you, Darling? I thought you loved me? Have I treated you so poorly that you would rather face the world alone than be by my side?"

Shamrock would escort you back to the household, marching you through the front door with a patient look upon his face. Your walk of shame would be seen by all, a warning to you that even if he hadn't seen you leave, everyone here was loyal to the Figarland name, and they would have told him where you'd gone to.

He would march you all the way back to your shared room, locking the door behind the two of you. Shamrock would curl his hand over your shoulder, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he sits you down on the bed before kneeling in front of you. While he was amused at your attempt of escape, he was still furious with you all the same for even trying.

"Why can't you understand that you are mine, my love. I have given you everything you could ever desire, and still, you try and run away from me. Do I need to show you how much I adore you?"

Despite his words, you knew that the next couple of hours would be nothing but punishment for you. Shamrock would strip you down, hands impatient and greedy, before he would lash you to the bed, keeping you there as he teased you to the edge for hours. Your mind would be a wreak, body wound tight as you begged for release that Shamrock wouldn't grant you.

Shamrock needed to remind you that only he was the one allowed to touch you like this. Only he was the one to bring you such torturous pleasure, and how dare you try and leave him when you knew that he could never let you go.

"How could you try and leave me, darling. You know that I love you, that I adore you every waking moment of the day. You are safe here, away from the rest of the filthy world, so answer me, why do you try and run?"

He would demand an answer from you, urging you with soft touches from his gloved hands, fingers pressing into your flesh with a harshness that he couldn't control. Shamrock wanted to know just why you continued to test him and would not stop his pressing demands until you uttered an answer he deemed good enough.

Only then, when you whined that you just wanted to his attention, that he would allow you to come. Mouth pressed close to your own as he drank in each soft sound of pleasure you made for him. He would apologize quietly, voice a condescending coo that eached in your ear.

"Oh darling, I'm sorry that I've not paid you enough attention. You are my world, you know that. I'll do better this time. That way, you won't ever think about leaving me again. Won't you like that, my love?"

@mit-suri @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin @mfreedomstuff

[im-so-normal-iswear]

hiii!!

May I request some Yandere Sonic with a ballerina reader??

A/n: any other hispanics not show up to work/school today?

Yandere Sonic x Ballerina Reader

Tw: yandere, obsessive, stalking, sonic being creepy. Forced affection, forced touch (not sexual)

The first time Sonic saw you, it was like something out of a dream.

You were in the middle of a dance, you legs grazing the floor with stunning elegance, defying gravity with a grace he'd never seen before. It was mesmerizing, how effortlessly you moved, how precise and fluid every motion was. The world seemed to slow as you spun.

He didn't know how long he'd been watching.

Minutes? Hours?

It didn't matter. You were beautiful.

Sonic isn’t the type to sit still. He's constantly moving, constantly seeking the next thrill. But when you appeared in his life, suddenly, he found himself stopping just to watch. He hid in the trees outside your studio, dashed past your performances just to get a glimpse, followed you home at night to make sure you were safe.

At first, he told himself it was nothing. Just curiosity. He was fascinated by your ability to move so flawlessly, almost inhumanly so. It was like you existed in your own world.

He started showing up at your practice sessions.

At first, it was subtle. Small things out of the corner of your eyes, a figure that would appear for maybe a second, but as soon as you focused on it, it was already gone.

And then, one day, you turned around, and there he was.

"Yo!" Sonic grinned, leaning against the bar like he belonged there. "You're crazy fast on your feet. Well, not as fast as me of course, but, still fast, y'know?"

You were startled, but not frightened. Sonic the Hedgehog is a hero, everyone knows that. He's saved the world more times than you could count, and he was standing right in front of you, acting like you were the coolest thing he'd ever seen.

"You... were watching me?" you ask, unsure whether to be flattered or weirded out.

"How could I not?" His grin widens, but there’s something sharp behind it. "You dancw well. Just had to come see it up close."

That’s how it started.

Sonic becomes a constant in your life.

You never invited him, hes just always there, before practice, during, after. He watched from the shadows, but the moment you look his way, he acts casual, like he just happened to be passing through.

"You're amazing," he told you one night, after walking you home.

"Thank you," you replied, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

His eyes gleamed in the moonlight. "You don't get it. I mean, you're really amazing. Icve never seen anyone move like you. It's like... you belong at my side."

Those words sent a chill down your spine.

It only got worse.

Your shoes go missing, only to mysteriously reappear in your locker, laces tied in a neat little bow. Your schedule, which you've never shared with anyone, seems to be known by Sonic down to the second. He's always there, waiting for you.

And then there are the notes.

Neatly folded pieces of paper, slipped into your dance bag, your locker, even your pocket when you aren't looking.

"Youre the only thing that can keep up with me."

"I need you to dance for me."

"You're the only one I want to see move."

You tell yourself it's just admiration. That Sonic is just... intense. But deep down, you know better.

The breaking point came after a late night rehearsal.

You were exhausted, muscles sore, feet aching as you stepped outside. The streets were quiet, and for once, you thought you were alone.

Until...

"Going home alone? That's dangerous, y'know."

Sonic's voice wass too close.

You spun around, heart racing, and there he is, standing inches from you. His usual easy-going grin is still there, but the false sense of calm is eerie.

"You've been working hard," he says, tilting his head. "Hurts, doesn't it? All that pressure, all those expectations... but you keep going. Just like me."

"I-I need to go home," you say, stepping back.

Sonic moves faster than you can react. In the blink of an eye, he's behind you, his breath hot against your ear.

"But you don't wanna leave yet, do you?" His voice is almost teasing, but there’s something possessive in it, something suffocating. "You belong out here, under the stars. Dancing just for me."

Your hands shake. "Sonic, you're scaring me."

For a moment, just a moment, his expression falters. Then he laughs, stepping away like nothing happened. "Ah, don't!....dont look at me like that. I'd never hurt you." His grin returns, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I just... need you close, okay?"

You don't answer.

You don't have to.

Because Sonic had already decided.

From that night on, things spiralled out of control.

You see less of your friends because Sonic always intercepts them, leading them away with some excuse before they can reach you. Your performances start feeling wrong, you can sense him watching, always watching, his eyes tracking your every move.

You try to confront him, but it's useless. Sonic knows what you're thinking before you even open your mouth.

"Thinking about running?" he teases one evening, hanging upside down from a tree as you try to sneak away. "You won't get far."

"You can't do this," you whisper.

"Do what?" He hops down, landing inches from you. "Love you?"

Your stomach churns. "You're being delusional"

He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Oh, delusional, really? Im not delusional, you just don't get it yet. But you will! Soon..."

You stopped showing up to practice.

Not because you want to, but because Sonic doesn't let you.

He keeps you close, always within reach. If you try to slip away, he's there in an instant, arms wrapped around you in a crushing embrace. "You don't need them, youre too good for them, the dont deserve you... You have me."

He's not lying.

You do have him.

You have Sonic when you wake up and find him curled beside you, despite locking your doors. You have Sonic when he carries you through the wind, the world blurring past as he whispers how only he can keep up with you.

You have Sonic when he grips your hands just a little too tightly, his voice trembling as he asks, "You love me too, right?"

You don't answer.

Because you don't know what would happen if you did.

A/n: just realized i accidentally changed tenses alotvin this, uhm, im not gonna change it because im lazy.

[animalfluidz]

i love the idea that you dont need to follow all your friends on social media.

[slamrink]

Nothing to see here just steph stealing glances of klay like he’s afraid he’s going to get caught 😃😃 (via namxsj on twitter )

[morphestic]

i love rare pairs

[sapphia]

unpopular opinion but people who insist inside cats are the only ethical way to have a cat don’t seem to realise how un-cat-like a lot of their behaviour is. they’re bored shitless and understimulated all the time and confined to a territory that’s far too small for them and it fucking shows.

i literally just saw a post about a cat following mountain climbers with a reblog pointing out how far cats roam with the implication that that’s why outdoor cat owners are wrong for letting them out and it’s like… take that thought just a little bit further, please. if that was a zoo, most of you all would be alleging animal abuse and saying how it needs a bigger enclosure than what the zoo is providing. it’s the same principle. normal cats aren’t constantly trying to make a break for it, they won’t follow you around or bother you constantly or sniff every little thing because they’re desperate for any stimulation they can possibly get, etc.

most cats are far less trainable than you think because they’re not going out of their mind and can just go and choose to be somewhere else, do something else (or nothing else), and when you stop interacting with an inside cat and rewarding them for doing the things you want them to, they go back to being shut in a tiny little house again where everything is the same and with nothing new or engaging to occupy them.

if you have an extremely engaged inside cat that shows interest in everything you ever offer them, it’s because they’re bored. most cats are disinterested by default. there is not enough “here sniff this spoons” in the world that can fully make up for the enrichment of the outside.

if you have an inside cat i’m not saying you’re wrong, i get it, it totally depends on the cat itself and your location and all that jazz, and i personally wouldn’t have an outside cat in a city center either (i left my must-be-outside cat with my parents when I moved to near a busy road). but if you act like you’re better than other cat owners for it when you are literally not providing a roaming range big enough to meet their psychological needs… blocked.

[quietlyblooms]

dw i'm writing, but promise me you won't let me get back into h.aik.yuu!! i'll go truly insane if i collect any more silly lil boys to write or start contemplating old oc's again. i don't wanna do it

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[suniside-crossing]

.

[rioblitzle]

i guess im not too involved in the zelda fandom cause seeing a post about rabid totk defenders is wild to me. from my perspective people were singing that game's praises for 2 months total before it fell to the "popular game bad actually" criticism wave and i don't think i've seen anyone say positive things about totk since then lmfao

[kyouka-supremacy]

Today was a good day :)

[sheltoner]

today has been so ass

[fishofthewoods]

Angeltober days 3-5

These are my drawings for days 3-5 of @ultrainfinitepit's Angeltober!

Day 3: Honey

This one went through the most changes from sketch to finished product; I ended up going with a medieval-beekeeper inspired thing with a huge eye instead of the basket face. I didn't have much time for this one, so it's quite rough even in its final form, but part of my goal for this challenge is to get more comfortable posting "unfinished" or "bad" art. Even if the drawing isn't great I'm gonna post one for every day (though maybe several days late...)

Day 4: Sacred Heart

I had a lot of fun with this one! I knew pretty much from the beginning what I wanted to draw--this is my OC Mariana, who I could write a whole essay on and probably will someday. The original sketch was in fountain pen, which was fun to work with since I couldn't erase anything; I'll probably use it for rough sketches again since the messiness is a good way to get ideas down.

Day 5: Horn

This is another one that didn't change much from the first concept, though it took me a while to get there--at first i had NO idea what to do, until I thought to work with some other interpretations of "horn". I'd have liked to spend more time on the final product for this one; maybe I'll revisit it someday!

[kanguin]

You know as someone in the community myself, I'd kind of like to see transfem/transmasc infighting all over my dash. Like wtf happened, why did this blow up all of a sudden with violent angry things being said by trans men and women alike?

Like shoot me if I don't have the full context but as someone not in the middle of it, every argument I see feels seeped in festered hate that runs deeper than the veneer of what's actually being said, and that just concerns me to the point I refuse to touch any of it.

[spagheddiesquash]

well i could move to europe. we have the means to and ive always wondered what it would be like to actually LIVE there. but i have a life here and i had PLANS here. really big ones. and none of my friends have a europe to be able to just pack up and move to. sure i bet its leagues nicer than this shithole but those friends are family to me. and if i go with my blood family and cant take my friend family with me then i dont really see a point to it all. and so we press on anyway. as one does. as humanity always has. for the rest of life and time.