#and what that actually says about the team

[bywons]

I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF 𖥔 LIPSTICK STAINS ON ENHYPEN

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌

❪ 𝖠𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖤 𝖬𝒾𝖮 ❫ ｡ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1299wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ── 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 愛 ／ 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

する ܃ happy new year, loves ! ( although this fic is not new years related :p )

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG

you watch as heeseung stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his jacket, his back turned to you. a playful thought crosses your mind as you walk up behind him and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, leaving a delicate red lipstick mark.

he freezes, staring back at the lipstick stain sitting ever so prominent on his cheeks, as the corners of his lips start to twitch to a lovesick smile.

“uhm— sorry ’seung, didn’t mean to!” you shoot your hands upwards to wipe the lipstick off of his cheeks. of course, what were you thinking, your boyfriend of ten months obviously wouldn’t give in to the idea of wearing your lipstick stain around. there was still some distance between the two hearts.

“and if i say i love it?” heeseung whispers, closing the distance between the two of you as he catches your wrist, pressing a chaste kiss inside of it, all the while holding eye contact with you, “it’s proof that I'm yours, and i will wear it proudly.”

PARK JONGSEONG

“ready for the evening?” jay offers you a warm smile as you both reach the destination— a thanksgiving party organized by his family.

you shake your head, although uncomfortable as you shift closer to your boyfriend, “i don't know, you think they will like me—?”

jay cuts you off, squeezing your hand in reassurance, “of course they will, you're l just the perfect girl for me,” he chuckles, winking at you.

sighing softly, both of you get out of the car, finally ready to attend the much awaited event. you feel like you could thank your boyfriend for reassuring you in a sweeter way. so you pull him closer, kissing him right on the corner of his lips.

“ah!” you exclaim as your realise it left a lipstick stain on the spot, “sorry, i'll just wipe it—”

“no,” jay whispers, leaning down just enough so that his lips touch your earlobes, “it’s my badge of honour.”

SIM JAEYUN

jake leans against the counter, sipping his coffee, while you sit on the kitchen stool watching him. the early morning light streams through the window, highlighting his messy bedhead and sleepy eyes. you can’t resist. sliding off the stool, you walk over and press a soft kiss to his jawline, leaving a vivid red lipstick mark.

“did you just…?” he starts, turning toward you with an amused grin, setting his mug down.

“sorry!” you say quickly, reaching for a napkin. “i’ll clean it—”

“don’t you dare,” he interrupts, catching your hand midair. His grin grows wider as he looks at the mark in the reflection of the microwave door. “this is art. you think i’m getting rid of it?”

“jake,” you groan, blushing.

instead of replying, he leans down and cups your face gently, pressing a kiss to your lips. his warmth and the lingering taste of coffee makes your head spin, “now we’re even.”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon adjusts the collar of his shirt, sighing softly as he opens his laptop to attend his business meeting for the week. he looks so focused, his sharp jawline and furrowed brows making him seem almost untouchable. But to you, he’s your sunghoon.

before he can click into the video call, you lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a soft lipstick stain behind.

he freezes, turning his head toward you with wide eyes, “did you just sabotage my meeting?” he teases with a smirk.

you laugh nervously. “let me clean it before—”

he stops you, catching your wrist. “no need,” he says, glancing at his reflection in the laptop screen. “actually, i think it’s perfect.”

“perfect? sunghoon, you’re about to go live with your team!”

“exactly,” he says with a smirk, tilting his head toward you, pressing kiss on your hand. “let them see how loved i am.”

during the meeting, one of his colleagues finally asks, “uh, sunghoon, what’s on your cheek?” he chuckles softly, glancing at you out of frame. “oh, just a reminder from someone most special,” he says, his voice full of pride.

KIM SUNOO

sunoo sits at his desk, adjusting his hair in the tiny mirror he keeps nearby. “do i look good enough for the pictures today?” he asks, flashing you a playful grin.

“you always do,” you reply, leaning over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

when you pull back, you notice the bright pink lipstick stain left behind. “i didn’t mean to—let me clean it!" you say, reaching for a tissue.

but sunoo grabs your wrist, his eyes sparkling. “why would you erase this masterpiece?” he teases, tilting his head to admire the mark in the mirror.

“because you’re taking pictures today! you can’t—”

“i can and i will,” he interrupts, grinning as he picks up his phone. he snaps a selfie, the lipstick mark proudly on display. caption: loved and it shows

“sunoo!” you exclaim, laughing as he spins his chair toward you.

he stands up, wrapping his arms around your waist. “you know,” he says softly, leaning closer, “if anyone asks about it, i’ll just tell them i’m taken by the most amazing girl in the world.”

your cheeks flush as he kisses your forehead. “now,” he says with a wink, “time to go make everyone jealous.”

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon sits cross-legged on the floor, carefully highlighting sections in his textbook, completely lost in concentration. you can’t resist the moment and lean down, pressing a kiss to his temple.

when you pull back, the faint pink lipstick stain is visible against his skin. jungwon freezes, his highlighter hovering mid-air, before looking up at you with a soft laugh.

“did you just mark me?” he teases, cheeks flushed as he touches his cheeks.

you wince. “well, do you want me to wipe it off?”

before you can grab a tissue, he catches your hand and tilts his head. “leave it,” he says, his voice calm but teasing. “it’s kind of… sweet.”

you blink, surprised. “sweet?”

he shrugs, leaning back on his palms, a small smile tugging at his lips. “yeah. it’s like a good luck charm or something. maybe now i’ll finally ace this chapter.”

“jungwon, that’s not how studying works,” you laugh, feeling the warmth of his breathe creeping up your neck as he pulls you close.

he hums, turning back to his notes as if nothing happened, but the faint pink mark stays right where it is. the quiet confidence in his expression says he’s in no hurry to hide it.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki bounces a basketball lazily in the driveway, his hoodie slightly askew, and his hair messy from the evening breeze. you watch from the side, unable to resist the way his focus shifts from playful to determined every time he lines up a shot.

“hey,” you call out, stepping closer. he turns, flashing you a boyish grin.

“come to challenge me?” he teases, spinning the ball on his finger.

“not quite,” you say, stepping up to him. before he can react, you grab his hoodie strings, tug him down slightly, and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

riki stumbles back, blinking in surprise. “wait, uhm,” he gulps, grabbing your shoulders as his face fumes up, “is there a mark on my cheek?”

you giggle. “dont like it?”

“no way!” he says, holding up a hand to stop you. his eyes gleam with mischief as he pulls out his phone. “this is the perfect victory look.”

“you’re not even playing!” you protest, laughing.

he smirks, snapping a selfie with the lipstick mark proudly on display. “doesn’t matter. with this, i’ve already won.”

shaking your head, you can’t help but smile as he picks up the basketball again, still wearing your kiss like a badge of honor.

© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission . div ctto

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels @k-films @k-nets CLICK ME

[thewidowsledger]

Mistake

© thewidowsledger 2025 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Professor!Natasha Romanoff x College Student!Female Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18 smut, ANGST, vile, mean, obsessive, hurt and dark Natasha, Natasha has a penis, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, hate fuck, crying but def not dacryphilia, kind of dubcon, noncon breeding

Author's Note: This is by far the darkest fic that was requested to me…I might be overreacting but I just a baby. I don't know how Latin honors works from others so I just referenced it to mine. Plot is kind of inspired with the song Teacher's Pet but it's the other way around. Request

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

⧗

"Isn't Y/N your rival since like 8th grade? You always hated the girl man! How come you're confessing your feelings to her on our graduation day?!" Rhodey groaned while rubbing his entire face as he talked to his best friend who just told his deep shocking secret.

"That's when I started loving her too." Tony simply replied.

You and Tony were actually schoolmates since grade school. And you have always been a top performing student ever since, while Tony only got to show his skills and intelligence not until high school—late bloomer as they say.

Who would imagine that the shy weird kid back in grade school would turn into a big massive fuckboy slash science freak in high school until college?

"So what's the plan, man?" Rhodey can only ask. He and Tony have been side by side since forever so there is no way he will not support him in getting to you. "Tony, as much as I want to support you in this…thing. You know your reputation. First, you are Y/N's acads rival, as long as there are numbers and letters and numbers and letters mixed together you are enemies and everybody knows that. Second, you have a reputation of sleeping with so many women. You know you didn't have your name cleared about the sleep night with the entire cheerleading team two years ago, in fact you didn't want your name cleared because you liked having that reputation."

"That was two years ago, I'm different now, at least I am trying too."

"I can't believe this. But honestly, I'd hit that." Rhodey smirked, showing your beach photo wearing a maxi skirt, a crochet top and the black glasses you always wore.

"Okay, enough of that! That's…that girl is mine, man. Please bro code." He snatched his friends' phone away from him and turned it off. Tony doesn't need to look at your photos anymore since he had memorized each photo of yours because he had been checking on your Instagram for at least twice a day.

"I was just joking! Of course I wouldn't." Rhodey chased his phone and was able to get it before Tony put it in his pocket. "So what's the plan? How will you…you know?" He shrugged while looking intently at his friend.

"Don't worry, I'm never running out of plans and pick up lines." He let out a laugh while also flexing his biceps

"Hey, hey! Friendly advice man? Just cut with your bad pick up lines and be a man. You just told me she's the girl you want to marry and she looks like the type who wouldn't fall for jokes or pick up lines. This isn't any rom coms, if you want her to fall in love with you, compliment and admire her mind—her intelligence."

"O…kay…where did that come from? That was a good one, Rhodey. I never thought I would hear that from you." Tony tried not to laugh his ass off, but the words of wisdom his friend just told him was something he needed.

Rhodey just shrugged, a genuine smile on his face showing as he looked at his friend. "I've always had it in me, Tony. It's just you never asked for some advice. Besides, you're different and so am I. And now, seeing you genuinely in love with this girl? I just know you need some unsolicited advice from mister lover boy right here."

"Hey, I'm a mister lover boy too." Tony pouted.

"You can be. But first, we have 8 minutes to get to Mr. Coulson's class."

The two sprinted out of the cafeteria, not even noticing Professor Romanoff sitting in the corner, her nails grazing hard against her own coffee mug.

⧗

"You're not gonna run for Latin?" You asked Tony, you were frustrated, you expected him to be your rival up until the end but when you knew you were the only one who filed for latin honors in your class, you were infuriated. You should be thankful, really, because you have no more competition but…

"I had 2.75 in molecular dynamics in 3rd year, if you didn't know. So basically, I'm not eligible to run for latin since then." You huffed at his reply, you don't know if it's out of disbelief or relief because he had that grade that made him not qualified for latin anymore.

"Did you purposely fail that class?" You asked him suspiciously. "Because I don't want to have this honor if you just basically gave it away. Like what you did in our elemag quiz bee during 10th grade, you said I only won because you basically let me, because you were just forced to join."

Tony pinched his nose, trying to hold a giggle. You are so cute, he thought to himself. Always so competitive and he loved every bit of it.

"I sucked at the subject, I promise, princess." He replied sincerely, not teasingly and provoking like he always was when he talks to you. Like when he tells you to calm yourself down before you internalize everything you had reviewed for a quiz bee, because it's just him you're gonna have to contend in some stupid quizzes.

You hated the man, but he's like a part of your system. You wouldn't function without him infuriating you—without him always competing with you.

"So…congratulations, summa cum laude." You were shocked at his words and genuineness but you didn't let him notice. For once, he didn't annoy you—for once—he's not your rival.

Before Tony could hand you the bouquet of tulips he was holding, a student suddenly rushed up to you.

"Hey, Y/N," the student said, her cheeks blushing as her eyes darted between you and Tony. "Professor Romanoff is asking for you in her office."

Hiding the tulips behind his back, Tony feigned nonchalance while you fought back your irritation. You couldn't believe it—even after all this time, he still had an effect on the women in your school. Unknown to you, the student had glimpsed the flowers he was secretly holding in his hands where she thought were for you.

"R-right now?" You stammered and the student nodded before bidding goodbye to the both of you.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked, noticing you turned pale.

As Tony asked you if you were okay, you found yourself blurting out, "Can you come with me?" You immediately regretted your words, silently cursing yourself for asking for help from the one person you loathed the most.

Despite the tension between the two of you, Tony agreed to accompany you to Professor Romanoff's office. As you walked, he fidgeted awkwardly, still holding the bouquet of flowers behind his back. Whenever you stole a glance in his direction, he'd turn away, so you wouldn't notice the bouquet peeking behind him.

The walk was filled with an uncomfortable silence, neither of you uttering a single word until you reached the professor's office.

Tony was about to reach for the door handle to Professor Romanoff's office, you quickly stopped him, passing him your bag. He shot you a questioning look, his eyes filled with concern as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You just gave him a small nod. He took your bag without protest and offered a reassuring nod in return.

"I'll wait for you here," he said, awkwardly holding your tote bag and wiggling his fingers as you go inside. His other arm was tired from having to hold the bouquet behind his back.

He could give it to you after, he thought.

⧗

You closed the door, but you deliberately left it unlocked. After a moment, Professor Romanoff emerged from the bathroom, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

"Professor." You said, your head bowed in submission. Despite your fear and trepidation, you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze, keeping your eyes on your shoes as you struggled to maintain your composure.

She walked towards you, your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead. Your lips trembled, and your shoulders tensed up as if preparing yourself for the worst. Your shoulders grazed onto each other as she locked the door behind you, trapping you inside with her.

"Is the pictorial done for graduation?" She asked, it came out soft but cold.

You took a deep breath, gathering what little ounce of courage you had left and managed to stammer out, "Yes."

Professor Romanoff's eyes traveled down your body, scrutinizing your outfit. You were wearing a skirt that teetered on the edge of being too short, paired with a fitted white top and a cardigan. You fidgeted under her intense scrutiny, feeling exposed and vulnerable under her stare.

"May I ask why I was being called, professor?" You asked, you bit your lip after for trembling too much.

"You're the only candidate for the Latin honors in our program. I talked to Professor Coulson and others in the faculty, and all of them said that your position is already secured for it not to drop below a 2," she stated. "Many professors are rooting for you to deliver your speech in 5 months."

And you? You desperately want to ask but you hold yourself back, keeping the question locked inside your mind. You wanted to speak less to her as much as possible, so you just nodded.

The room was filled with silence for several minutes, and you just stood there while she was still sitting in her office chair.

"I missed you."

Your heart literally dropped. The last time you had heard those words from her was two years ago, when you both had been caught up in a dirty secret affair.

"Didn't you miss me too? Detka? " You begged in your mind for her to not to call you those russian pet names again, well, it's one of your weaknesses still after so long.

You shook your head side to side in denial and screwed your eyes shut, as if trying to block out the words and the memories they stirred up. The mere thought of admitting to missing her was too much for you to handle—because you did, you missed her so much and you hated yourself for it. So every time your heart flutters when you see her along the hallways, you move to a different direction just to avoid her or if your mind starts to think about her, you immerse yourself in studying which most of the time failed to work.

You tried to be strong and you think you're doing good at it. You told yourself as long as you're not going to be alone with her again, you'd be fine.

And you are definitely not fine right now...

"After you came back from your immersion program, you didn't talk to me anymore..." Her voice was dark and tinged with hurt that had festered over the time you had spent away.

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

Her words echoed in the air, a single tear slipped down your cheek, your breath growing more labored with each passing second. You couldn't bring yourself to answer her, your throat tight and your body trembling.

"Did you even lo—"

You didn't let her finish, you don't want her to ask you that question because you're afraid about the answer that you had kept hidden, locked in the deep, dark corner of your heart. "What I felt for you was…genuine."

What a nice way to put it.

"Genuine?" She huffed, she could take that one for now, Natasha thought. "If it's genuine then why am I a secret?"

"It was a mistake!" You rushed out before you could even blink. What would people think if they knew? That the top student in the university only got her achievements because she was basically a professor's cock sleeve?

"Nat—Professor…what…what happened before was a mistake. I told you that, right? And you know it too! We talked about it after I went to my immersion, that we'll stop. God, please, you know how wrong it was!" You cried desperately, it's not loud but it's enough for her to hear.

"Mistake?" she snapped and you can see the hurt in her eyes. "The bar, yes. That could be a mistake."

You cleared your throat awkwardly, memories of that night suddenly flooding your mind. The way the two of you danced, the way she laughed, how her lips tasted like whiskey...and then, the realization that hit you both when you're both sobered up. That was the night you slept with her, so much for being drunk you didn't realize it was your professor—the professor you had a crush on.

"What about here?" She pointed to her desk, where she had pounded you for dear life after class because you had joked to her that if you get a perfect quiz then you'll have a reward from her—and you did, she had made you cum twice for the recitation and quiz she had prepared for class, specifically for you. "And there?" You looked towards her sofa, where a lot of things happened between you two. You sucking her when she gets so frustrated during a meeting, riding her if she's too tired from paperworks—all the dirtiest kinks were done on that sofa. Even the softest ones where you both cuddled up after you didn't win the regional college quiz bowl or when you straddled her while teaching her how to tie a necktie.

"Motels, my car, my apartment, here again in my office during prom where you begged me to fuck your ass while wearing your prom queen crown." Her voice grew darker, matching the intense memories playing out in her mind. "Tell me baby, were those a mistake too? It would really hurt my feelings if you said yes."

You sobbed, shaking your head side by side, trying to dispel the memories and she can see the fear and denial in your eyes. You can just walk right now and end this torturous reminiscing. But you felt trapped in place, trapped in those memories, and she was too—she was trapped in the need to make you remember…

"Please, stop." You hiccup, trying to hold back a sob. You continue to shake your head over and over.

"You can't just go around, fuck me up and then say that's it's just a mistake afterwards." She spat, standing to walk towards you.

She loomed over you, her tall frame casting a shadow, making you feel small and vulnerable. She could see you shaking, hear your ragged breathing and it only fueled her frustration.

"Bent over my desk with that perfect little ass in the air, waiting..." She moved closer, her hand reaching out to trace your collarbone.

She watched you scramble to your feet, a dark satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as you approached her desk. She followed close behind, her heels clicking on the floor. When you reached the desk, she pressed a firm hand between your shoulder blades, bending you over it.

As she bent you over, you let out a soft moan, your face pressed against the cool surface of the desk. She could see your body relax, falling into the familiar position. Her hand slowly inched up your skirt, feeling the soft fabric bunch under her fingers. "You still remember, don't you?"

She stepped closer, pressing her length against your backside, feeling the thin barrier of her pants between you two. You found yourself grinding back against her feeling she was growing harder.

"Fuck you're still such a slut for my cock." She smirked as she gripped your waist. "Is it still a mistake? Huh? Slut? You grinding your slutty pussy back against my cock?"

You shook your head side by side, biting your lip to contain your moans.

"I need you to say it, slut." She spat.

"N-no, it's…it's not a mistake, professor." You said in a shaky tone.

Without warning, she reached down and unzipped her pants, pulling out her thick, hard cock. She wrapped her hand around it, stroking it slowly behind your back, the tip rubbing against your ass through your panties. "Fuck, I've missed this," she pressed the head of her cock against your ass, rubbing it against your panties. "Gonna fuck this tight little pussy again, just like old times."

She pushed aside your panties, revealing your vulnerable entrance, "Missed how perfectly you take me..." In one smooth motion, she thrust forward, burying herself deep inside you.

"N-nat!" Your back arched even further as you cried out a breath.

"I missed you calling me by my name." She said in a ragged breath, "I want you to shout it so Stark can hear it behind those doors." Her other hand reached around to grab your hair, tangling it in her fist as she pulled your head back, forcing you to arch your back further and to look at the door of her office where Tony was waiting. You didn't know how she knew Tony was waiting outside for you.

Your voice only seemed to spur her on. She began pounding into you, the rhythm steady and intense. She pulled out slightly, just the tip still inside you, before slamming back in with renewed ferocity. "You made me struggle, everyday, seeing you walk around in those fucking skimpy clothes...and letting anyone touch you, but not me." Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust. "I didn't reach you because I respect you so much, love you so fucking much. And I know you will run back to me eventually…"

"But you didn't…fuck, you didn't come back to me. Am I…am I that easy? Y/N?" She asked with so much vulnerability and hate. "Do you know how hard it is to watch you go on for a day without me? When I couldn't?"

You felt some hot liquid dripping down onto your bare back, your clothes being bunched up…are those tears? You are too dumbed down to think but you noticed how Natasha held back a sob, covering up trying to sound cold and resentful towards you.

"Natasha…" you called out to her, you wanted to hold her against you but she snapped forward continuously and sloppily, hitting a spot inside you that made you whimper. "F-fuck!" You cried, it was loud and that made you cover up your own mouth.

Her climax hit and she buried herself to the hilt inside you, holding perfectly still as she rode out her orgasm. Waves of her hot cum filled your pussy, coating your insides, but she didn't say a word, she didn't tell you or even warn you. She just stayed frozen, her body shaking with the intensity of her release.

She gazed down, biting her trembling lip as she observed her cock, slick with both your arousal and her release, still buried deep inside you. A shudder ran through her as she felt the last drops of cum seep out on the tip of her shaft. Slowly pulling out, she couldn't help but moan softly at the erotic sight of her thick cum slowly oozing out of your well-used pussy. You innocently wiggle your ass as you move and it only intensified the lewd display.

You stood all by yourself and she calmly situated herself back into her leather office chair, cleaning herself up, refusing to look at your trembling form.

"N-nat?" You called, a tear running down your cheeks. You saw her reddened eyes and flushed cheeks—you were right—she was crying, but so are you. You slowly backed away, frantically tugging at your disheveled clothes, you could feel her cum still dripping slowly into your panties.

"Nat? Can we talk?" You tried again, you didn't like the feeling of this. You felt used.

"You can go now." She said flatly, her voice devoid of any emotion.

You walked towards the door, desperation etched on your face, hoping for some kind word, any sign of affection. You hated yourself for expecting some that you wanted to slap yourself. You frantically swiped at your wet cheeks, trying your best not to break down in front of her. But no matter how hard you rubbed, more tears spilled out. You couldn't catch a break, each blink bringing forth a new wave of salty drops.

And her? She just sat there, staring at her computer screen, her expression cold and heartless as if nothing happened.

She has done her plan for you anyways. So there is nothing to talk about anymore, the last thing on her list is you running back to her.

As you rushed your way out, you saw your bag on the chair with a bouquet of flowers. "Hey, Y/N. This is for you, I had to leave for the chess team. I really hate doing this but I'd like you to be my date on senior night. —T.S."

You could only huff, your brows pinching together to hold the tears that are threatening to fall again. But you weren't able to help it, you ended up having a break down outside her office, with the flowers on your arm and the evidence of what she did to you still oozing inside of you.

⧗

"Ladies and gentlemen, faculty, family, friends..." Your voice cracked slightly, betraying your nerves, but you steadied yourself, refusing to let the ghosts of the past dictate this moment. "We've worked tirelessly, overcome obstacles, and in some cases, experienced pain both personal and academic."

You glanced down at your notes, a faint smile playing on your lips as you continued. "I'd like to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support, my blockmates for turning sleepless nights into unforgettable memories, and lastly, I want to express my deepest gratitude to the professors who have molded us into the graduates we are today."

As you scanned the audience, your gaze landed on Professor Romanoff, who sat upright, her expression unreadable. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. With a deep breath, you concluded your speech. "Thank you, and congratulations to the class of 2025!"

The graduation ceremony drew to a close, and the air was filled with joyous cheers and the clicking of cameras. As you mingled with your fellow graduates, collecting well-wishes and hugs, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It seemed like everyone was drawn to you—your classmates, their families, even some of the professors. You were the center of attention, the summa cum laude, the valedictorian.

As you made your way through the crowd, congratulations ringing in your ears, a different sort of tension gripped you. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the growing pressure and the whispers that began to rise around you. Your swelling stomach was becoming more prominent by the second, stretching the fabric of your gown. You caught a few raised eyebrows and exchanged looks of confusion among your peers, their eyes glued to you.

The whispers grew louder, more urgent, as realization dawned on everyone. The batch valedictorian delivered her speech with a baby bump that had been concealed beneath flowing gowns and baggy clothes all semester, but now...there was no hiding it. Exactly four months along, your secret was suddenly the most spoken topic at this joyous event.

Tony stood near enough to be seen by you, a bouquet of roses hiding behind his back. He had been about to confess his feelings, to tell you that your intellect and beauty had captivated him all these years you had been rivals. But now, as he noticed the unmistakable curve of your belly…you noticed how he stepped back. His perfectly prepared speech shattered in his mind.

He walked away from you as if he was disappointed in you. At the same time you could feel the shift in the atmosphere, not just from him but the disappointment radiating off the crowd like a physical force.

You tried to smile to those around you to mask the dam that is going to break soon, but you still held your chin up with the little courage and confidence you had left in you.

"Mama, I'll just talk to someone. I'll meet you in the car." Your mother has been very supportive of you, yes, she scolded you when she got the news that you were pregnant. She always looked up and expected more from you, but still, she accepted and took care of you.

With a deep breath, you marched down the corridor towards her office. There were no people around and that's when it suddenly hit you. Tears started rushing down your cheek as your heels clicked urgently against the polished floor even though your OB gyne told you to stop wearing elevated shoes, you wiped them away frantically because you don't want to face her feeling vulnerable like this. The determination etched on your face chased away any lingering doubts. You were going to face this head-on, consequences be damned.

As you pushed open the door, she glanced up from her desk, surprise momentarily flashing across her features before smoothing into a smirk.

She leaned back in her leather chair, folding her hands atop the polished wood. "Y/N, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"Natasha…" you stepped forward, your hand traveling down your stomach. Your built up mask breaking, feeling vulnerable and exposed in front of her. You held back your tears, shaming yourself. "I have never been with anyone but you. I'm pregnant…I—I think you got me—"

She got your message, of course she did. Because this is exactly how she planned it to be, her claiming you in a way you didn't expect, you running back to her all vulnerable, and her turn saying…

"It was a mistake."

[the-fab-fox]

This is so true. I recently saw a recipe for a really healthy meal on a recipe blog. I clicked the author's name and found my way to their actual domained website. In their about, I found the email. I have emailed them asking if there was a way to do the recipe but in a crockpot due to the pretty unsafe environment I live in—due to the skuzzy way my roommate/Subletter acts, I don't feel safe using the kitchen. I have not received an answer but from my experience sending out emails to people one would not generally consider, I know one of two things will happen. They will simply not respond (that is to say ignore or disregard my email) or they will answer and let me know if it can be done or let me know they don't have the time or energy to offer that solution. And these two options aren't bad at all. There's no consequence.

So even if they *don't* answer, what's the problem with asking when the worst outcome is simply no answer. You're literally losing nothing no matter the outcome, and more times than you think you're gaining something.

A few more examples on this:

I'm very much a networker. I am a people person and really good at striking up random conversations with people. Been that way my whole life. I just love interacting and helping people. (I'm a customer service professional of 20 years if that says anything).

I also am pretty intermediate with computers and very good at writing resumes and cover letters for job resumes and things like that. A lot of that comes from the fact that when I was younger, if I wanted something that could only come from a specific person/company/entity/etc, I would search and research until I found the contact needed.

Sometimes I'd be pleasantly surprised, sometimes not. But I never lost anything by trying.

A few times I was pleasantly surprised:

I was/am really into Criminal Minds as a TV show. Got into it in my 20s. It's become a comfort show (as weird as that is for a show about a fictionalized Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI). I was thinking... What would it take to be a BAU agent. It's probably nothing like the show so what's it like really. So I went on USAjobs.gov to look into it. Found contact for FBI. Emailed with a well edited and professional email (yes, this is absolutely important if you want to be taken seriously—if anyone would like me to draft up an example of what that could look like in a specific scenario, I'm happy to help!) as well as I could at the age I was at (basically, write it as well written and professional as you know how at where you're at now—don't try to "sound" professional and use big words. Just write as you but more formal). Lo and behold, I got my answer and it was quite thorough and they even warned me that the team as is seen on the show is very over glorified and the BAU mostly consults from afar and very rarely goes into the field. Lol. But you still have to pass the entrance exams which include physical.

2nd time, around the same time. I was a member of a Matthew Gray Gubler (Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds) fan blog on Live journal. (Really aging yourself, here, Finley 🤣) Anyway. There was a movie we heard of that MGG would be in but no one knew if it was true or really happening or if the project was still in the works or had been stalled. I did a Google search, found the movies official page, found a contact email or form. I was consise in my subject line and consise in my email (my thinking was entertainment people are gonna be hella busy so put my inquiry in as little but still respectful and professional words as possible. I stated who I was, my experience leading to my question (in this case I said something along the lines of 'my name is Finley Beckett and I'm a member of a Mattew Gray Gubler fan blog. The group of us have been looking forward to the movie that if coming out but we haven't heard anything about it or whether it's still happening or not. I was hoping that you might be able to shine some light on this. Also, due to the questionable relience of the internet these days, would it be at all possible to send some kind of proof that you are indeed the people behind the movie. I won't share with the group, of course, but that way I can with 100% confidence, inform them of your response). And two or so days later I got an email from the director of the movie himself (and keep in mind this was a lower budget film and pretty sure straight to DVD so obviously this would likely not work with someone like say George Lucas or Christopher Nolan or Stephen Spielberg) emailed me back and gave me not only what has been happening as far as movie production but as well as a few production stills that included MGG within them.

I've gotten to correspond with two of my favorite novelists due to finding their websites and through those, their contacts. (Business inquiry emails count as contacts). And one of them, probably my favorite author of all time (Tamora Pierce) even looked over some of my writing at the time and gave me some really great feedback. To this day I cherish this moment even if I've lost the email to time.

Ultimately, the biggest advice I can give on this sort of thing is best summed up in this quote:

"You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take. Even though there is only a 1-5% probably of scoring."

— Wayne Gretzky (not Michael Scott 🤣)

And I left in the second part because it confirms what I've said. Like yes, there's only a 1-5% chance of getting something out of reaching out, especially in this day and age.

That said, if you never try, that percentage stays at 0%. Full stop.

You're already at 0%, so it would make more sense if you tried because even if you fail, you're already at 0% so you've literally got nothing to lose, right?

IDK if any of this will help but I wanted to try just the same. (See what I did there? 😉)

[meazalykov]

everybody moved on, but I stayed there

barcelona femeni x bayern frauen x reader

summary: its hard to adjust when you thought your old life would be your only life

warnings: angst

the call came early in the morning, the kind of call you had always dreaded but never truly believed would come. 

your agent’s voice on the other end of the line was steady, professional, but it carried a weight that crushed you the moment they spoke.  

“barcelona isn’t offering a renewal,” they said, their tone careful, like they knew the devastation these words would bring.  

you sat in your small apartment, the sunlight streaming through the window, mocking you with its warmth. the city outside was alive as always, the sound of bustling streets filling the background, but inside, you felt frozen. 

“what do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“they’re making some tough financial decisions,” your agent explained, trying to soften the blow. 

“it’s not about your performance. you’ve been phenomenal, but they’re restructuring. you know how it is... fighting for spots in the best team in the world. unfortunately, they’ve decided to let your contract expire.”  

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had spent three years at barcelona, pouring your heart and soul into everything. you had thought this was your forever, the club you would retire at, the city you would grow old in.  

“so, that’s it?” you said after a long silence. 

“i’m just... done here?”  

your agent hesitated, then sighed. 

“i know this is hard, but listen. you’re one of the best defenders in the world. clubs are already reaching out, and we have options. lyon, chelsea, orlando, bayern munich—they’re all interested. they’re practically throwing themselves at the chance to sign you.”  

you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. the idea of leaving barcelona, leaving everything you had built here, felt impossible.  

“y/n?” your agent’s voice broke through your haze. 

“i know this is tough, but you need to think about your next step. you have a bright future ahead of you. you can be at a club that actually wants to keep you.”  

you hung up soon after, unable to stomach the conversation any longer. the rest of the day passed in a blur. you avoided your teammates, knowing the questions and the pitying looks they would give you.

the decision wasn’t even yours to make, but the weight of it pressed down on you like it was. every day at training, you felt it in the pit of your stomach, an ache that wouldn’t go away. you tried to mask it—forcing a smile here and there, going through the motions during drills—but it didn’t take long for your teammates to notice.  

you looked down at your training kits and game kits everyday since that phone call, knowing this would be your final weeks wearing the barcelona name. 

“are you okay?” alexia asked one afternoon after practice, her voice gentle. she had always been perceptive, her captain’s instincts sharp. you nodded quickly, brushing her off with a vague excuse about being tired. 

she didn’t press, but her eyes lingered on you, worried.  

by the time the news had fully sunk in, you could hardly meet anyone’s gaze. every touch of the ball, every shared laugh in the locker room, felt like another goodbye you weren’t ready to say.  

you hadn’t been yourself on the pitch, your passes lacking their usual precision, your tackles hesitant. when the session ended, everyone filed into the dressing room, chatting and laughing as always, but you stayed silent, your head down as you untied your boots.  

keira, sitting next to you, noticed your distant expression. she nudged your shoulder lightly. 

“what’s up with you today? you’ve been... off.”  

you froze, the question catching you off guard. for a moment, you thought about brushing it off again, but something about the concern in her voice broke the wall you’d been holding up for weeks. your hands trembled as you placed your boots down, and before you could stop it, tears welled up in your eyes.  

the room fell silent as everyone noticed. keira leaned closer, her voice soft. 

“y/n? what’s wrong?”  

you took a shaky breath, your voice breaking as you finally spoke. “i have to leave,” you said, the words feeling like shards of glass in your throat. 

“barcelona isn’t renewing my contract.”  

gasps echoed around the room, followed by an overwhelming silence. the weight of your confession seemed to crush the air out of the space.  

“what do you mean they’re not renewing your contract?” aitana asked, her voice sharp with disbelief.  

“i thought you’d be here forever,” vicky added, her brow furrowed.  

you shook your head, wiping at your face as the tears kept falling. 

“i thought so too. but... they said it’s financial. they can’t offer me a new deal. it’s not up to me.”  

“no,” mariona said quietly, standing up and crossing the room to sit beside you. her arm wrapped around your shoulders as she pulled you close. 

“this can’t be happening.”  

you leaned into her, the comfort of her presence grounding you as sobs shook your body. mariona held you tightly, her own voice breaking as she whispered, 

“i understand. i know what it’s like. i’m leaving too, remember? i thought this was my forever club, just like you. sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to. you’ll be okay, nina.”  

the rest of the team sat in stunned silence, the reality sinking in. salma finally spoke, her voice steady but full of emotion. 

“this isn’t fair. you've tried your hardest for this team. we’ve all seen it.”  

“it’s not fair,” you agreed, your voice barely audible. 

“but it’s happening. and i have to accept it, sal.”  

mapi, sitting across from you, shook her head. 

“accept it? no, we’re not accepting this. you’re one of us. no matter where you go, you’ll always be one of us.”  

their words brought a fresh wave of tears, but this time, they weren’t entirely from sadness. amidst the heartbreak, there was comfort in knowing how much you meant to them.  

mariona squeezed your shoulder, her voice warm despite the sadness in her eyes.

“wherever you go, they’re lucky to have you. it’s okay to be upset right now. we’re upset too, you’ll grow to love your new club just as much as you love us.”  

you nodded, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady yourself. “i’m going to miss all of you so much,” you said, your voice trembling.  

“we’re going to miss you too,” keira said softly, and a murmur of agreement swept through the room.  

the rest of the evening passed in a haze of hugs, tears, and promises to stay in touch. mariona stayed by your side the entire time, her presence a constant source of comfort. as someone who was also leaving, she understood your pain in a way no one else could.  

when you finally left the locker room that night, the reality of your departure felt a little less heavy. your teammates’ love and support reminded you that even though you were leaving barcelona, you would always carry a part of it with you.

alexia tried to talk to you after everyone left, her voice soft.  

“we’ll miss you,” she said, her eyes searching yours for any sign of emotion.  

you forced a smile, nodding as your throat tightened. “i’ll miss you too.” but even as you said the words, it didn’t feel real.  

packing up your life in barcelona was harder than you expected. every corner of your apartment, every street you walked, every café you passed, was filled with memories. leaving felt like abandoning a part of yourself.  

when the offer from bayern munich came, you accepted it with a numb sense of duty. it wasn’t excitement that drove your decision, but necessity. you couldn’t stay in barcelona, and bayern seemed like the best option.  

the first few weeks in munich were strange. the city was beautiful, the people were welcoming, but it didn’t feel like home. 

your new teammates were kind, going out of their way to include you in team dinners and outings. georgia took you out for coffee, and sydney invited you over for dinner. they made an effort, but no matter how hard they tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider.  

“how are you settling in?” klara asked one evening after training. the two of you were stretching on the pitch as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the stadium.  

you shrugged, avoiding her gaze. 

“it’s... fine.”  

klara gave you a sympathetic look. 

“it’ll feel like home eventually. i know how you feel.. just give it time.”  

you nodded, but deep down, you weren’t so sure.  

despite your inner turmoil, your performance on the pitch was stellar. you threw yourself into training, determined to prove that you belonged. the bayern fans quickly grew to love you, chanting your name in the stands during every match.

even as you celebrated victories with your new team, a part of you longed for the camaraderie you had at barcelona.  

when you heard about barcelona’s successes, you felt a pang of jealousy. not because you wanted them to fail, but because you wished you were still a part of it.  

“do you ever talk to them?” georgia asked one day as the two of you sat in the locker room after a match.  

“sometimes,” you admitted, scrolling through your phone. your former teammates still messaged you, names like esmee, alexia, and keira lighting up your screen with texts like, “we miss you,” and “come visit soon.” but it wasn’t the same.  

months passed, and slowly, you began to find your footing in munich. 

when bayern beat real madrid in the champions league quarterfinals, you felt a surge of happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. the way the team celebrated in the locker room reminded you of the joy you used to feel at barcelona after an el clasico game against the same time you played tonight. 

for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe you could be happy here.  

then, the semifinal draw happened. bayern munich vs. barcelona. 

your stomach twisted when you saw it. the thought of facing your old team felt like a cruel twist of fate.  

“are you ready for this?” sydney asked as the team prepared for the first leg in munich.  

“i don’t know,” you admitted.  

the match was intense. you found yourself marking aitana, the two of you locked in a fierce battle throughout the game. every time she tried to break through, you were there, blocking her path. 

by the end of the match, it was 1-1, with goals from alexia and pernille.  

“good game,” alexia said afterward as the two of you crossed paths in the tunnel. there was a flicker of something in her eyes—pride, maybe? or nostalgia? you couldn’t tell.  

“thanks,” you replied, your voice tight.  

the second leg in barcelona felt different. walking into the stadium, you expected to feel a sense of loss, but instead, you felt... content. 

this was your old home, but it didn’t define you anymore.  

however, your heart thumped in your chest, not from nerves—at least, that’s what you told yourself—but from the weight of what this game meant. the second leg of the champions league semifinal. bayern munich vs. barcelona. your old club vs. your new club.  

giulia adjusted her captain’s armband slightly beside you as your hands steady on your mascot’s shoulders.. despite the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. the kid mascot looked up at you with her wide eyes, clutching your hand tightly. 

you smiled down at the young girl, offering a small squeeze of reassurance, even though you could have used some yourself.  

the players began walking out, the bright lights of the stadium flooding your vision as the roar of the crowd hit you like a tidal wave. it was deafening. thousands of voices chanting, cheering, and shouting in a language that used to feel like your own.  

you stepped onto the pitch, the familiar sight of camp nou stretching out before you. the stands were a sea of red and blue. 

for a moment, you felt a flicker of encouragement, a warmth in your chest. this was barcelona—this was home.  

wait a minute??? it's not. you cringed as reality hit, sharp and unforgiving. the cheers weren’t for you. not anymore. they were for the players in blaugrana, for the badge you no longer wore. 

you were bayern now. the crowd that once lifted you, chanted your name, celebrated your every move—they were now cheering against you.  

the realization stung more than you wanted to admit. your steps faltered slightly as you made your way to the center of the pitch, your head held high despite the ache in your heart.  

yet, amidst the overwhelming roar of the home fans, another sound reached your ears. it was faint at first, but it grew louder the more you focused on it. the bayern munich away fans, tucked into a corner of the massive stadium, were cheering for your team. 

their voices didn’t carry the same weight in numbers, but there was something in their tone—raw, passionate, unwavering—that hit you differently.  

they went through the lineup and gave the girls name chants. after pernille, they started chanting your name. your name.  

the sound of their voices cut through the noise of the home crowd, filling you with a strange sense of belonging. they weren’t just cheering for bayern; they were cheering for you.  

you straightened your posture, a quiet resolve settling over you. 

the kid beside you tugged at your hand, pulling your attention back. you smiled down at them again, this time with a bit more confidence.  

the anthem began playing, and you sang along quietly, your voice steady as the camera panned across the line of players. the stadium was exciting, the tension building as kickoff loomed.  

as the anthem ended and the players began to move into position, you took one last glance at the crowd. the cheers for barcelona still rang loud and proud, but the bayern fans’ voices echoed in your ears, grounding you in the moment.  

you were here for them now. and for yourself.  

the whistle blew, and the game began.

this game was one of the best of your career. you cleared shots from ewa, stopped aitana in her tracks, and made a crucial save against kika nazareth-- a forward you never got to play with. 

when you took a corner kick in the 89th minute, you didn’t expect anything to come of it. but the ball curved perfectly, slipping past cata and into the net.  

the stadium fell silent for a moment before erupting into german chaos. your jaw dropped as you covered your mouth in disbelief. your teammates swarmed you, their joy infectious.  

however, you didn’t celebrate. you couldn’t. out of respect for the club that gave you everything, you simply walked back to your position, your head held high.  

after the final whistle blew, bayern advanced to the final with a 3-1 aggregate score. as you walked off the pitch, you avoided looking at your former teammates. you were afraid of what you might see in their eyes—anger, disappointment, betrayal.  

later that night, as you lay in bed, your phone buzzed with a message from alexia. 

“we are proud of you. good luck in the final :)”  

it took you a moment to process her words. maybe they didn’t hate you after all.  

as bayern prepared for the champions league final against manchester city, you felt lighter. the weight of barcelona no longer pressed down on you like it used to. 

you would always cherish your time there, but you were starting to realize that your future was here, with bayern.  

and for the first time, you were okay with that.  

masterlist

[vladtoly]

Close Call

Dae-Ho x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Proofread: No

Word Count: 690

A/N: I need to preface this by saying I really loved Thanos' character and I simply portrayed him this way for the blurb. No hate for him, I swear! Also I did struggle a bit making Dae-ho the jealous type, so he may come off more protective than anything. Hope it's still good, thank you for requesting!

As the second game came to a close, you sat anxiously on your bunk, watching the entrance doors. Your boyfriend had been on a different team, though not by his own choice. Originally, you had been with his group, but when player 222 had come to them, revealing she was pregnant? You immediately gave up your spot. Dae-ho looked like he wanted to object and offer to leave instead, but you silence him with a simple side eye. Whatever group you were in, you’d assumed you would be fine, or at least hoped. And you were.

Now you were just worried about him.

“Senorita, excuse me. Mind if I join?”

You sighed as a weight landed on your mattress, the voice not waiting for your answer. Just a glance at your side revealed it to be Thanos. You hadn’t even been in his group, just sitting in the one behind his- but that didn’t stop him from turning around and dropping pick up lines constantly. It had almost been a relief when it was your group’s turn.

Shifting away, you kept your eyes on the entrance. “I do, actually, thanks.”

The man ignored your answer and made himself comfortable, man spreading and propping his arms behind him on the mattress. He seemed to know how to make any space crowded, all on his own.

“Don’t know why you’re looking at the door. All you need is right here,” he purred out, leaning his head closer to you.

“I’m waiting on my boyfriend. You can leave.” Your reply was short and sharp, hoping maybe obvious disinterest would make him leave. But you also doubted it.

The weight moved closer, and as soon as you felt a hand on your arm, your head finally snapped to look at him. “Do you know what ‘leave’ means?”

His face split into a goofy grin, obviously high off one of the pills you saw him pop earlier. “Well, I finally got you to look at me, didn’t I?”

Before you could respond, a hand grabbed Thanos’ hoodie and dragged him off the bed. When the owner of the hand came into view, you were more relieved to see Dae-ho. He was alive. Thank God.

“Why were you touching her?” he nearly yelled, his attention directed at Thanos.

Oh, right. You almost forgot about him.

Thanos just laughed, shoving himself out of your boyfriend’s grip. He brushed himself off as you quickly went to Dae-ho’s side.

“She looked lonely. I was just trying to help, you know?” Thanos leaned closer. “When you finally drop dead, then I’ll really help her.”

“You fucking bas-“Your words were cut off as Dae-ho lands a hard blow to his cheek.

Hobbling back, Thanos tried to lunge forward only to have the rest of your group step in front of him, making a wall. Your eyes were trained on him until a gentle hand touched your cheek, directing you to look away. As you turned, your eyes met with soft brown ones, wide with worry. “Hey, are you okay? What happened, what did he do?”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice grounded you. You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Nothing, he didn’t get the chance.”

His shoulders finally relaxed, resting his forehead on yours. “God, remind me to never leave you alone again.”

“Dae-ho, he was more of an annoyance than anything. He’s been doing shit like that all day.” You sighed out.

He groaned, tilting his head to look at the ceiling. “Trust me, I noticed.”

The words sank in. A small smirk began to form on your face. “Were you watching us earlier?”

“Kind of impossible not to. I wanted to check on you, and he also happens to be the loudest guy here. Makes it hard not to notice.” His eyes remained on the ceiling as he spoke.

Chuckling softly, you gently moved him back to look at you. “I’m okay. I’m right here and okay. Thank you for looking out for me.”

A deep sigh left him as he placed a firm kiss to your forehead, mumbling against the skin, “Someone has to.”

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

Squid Game headcannon/blurb requests are OPEN!

[anisespice]

Hey girl got a request,so like let’s say bonten is having a meeting with a new criminal organization gang that came in to come up with a deal,and while we are just sitting in the back looking at our new sparkly items Koko bought us,and the new criminal organization gang calls us out saying it’s disrespectful and rude calling us names..And bonten doesn’t like that one bit..So yeah I want them to react to that

hope it makes sense 😔😍🤺🤺

SAVE ME FROM MY WRITER'S BLOCK, ANON - HERE WE GO, NO MARIO. Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting~!

pairing: bonten x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, misogynistic undertones (from another gang), implied violence, guns mentioned, reader is criminally oblivious (love that for her), guard-god!bonten supremacy, sanzu gets his own warning lol and i think that's it.

notes: yall. can you believe i actually wrote this in one sitting? without stopping?? wild concept for me, haven't been able to do that in a good minute *knock on wood*, but i hope you enjoy! more stuff coming soon ♡

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen

Upon the arrival of the recently developed organization, officially known as Kaiju, things already weren’t off to a great start. They were late, clocked at about twenty minutes past schedule. Excuses poured from them like a broken faucet, blaming their tardiness on traffic, which the members were willing to give the benefit of the doubt, some more than others. Then, they were unprepared. Scrambling about with their half-assed introduction mixed with a sloppily thrown together presentation, it was insulting at worst. 

Here they were, biggest in the game, offering an opportunity to help underground operatives make a name for themselves..and this is how they want to showcase their potential? Mikey waved it off when his number three voiced this flaw, merely chalking it up with inexperience–Everyone has to start somewhere, right? 

But. Finally came strike three. The one thing, the most damning thing they could’ve ever done to have mercy jump right out the window and straight to hell, was when one of their foolish members spoke ill of you. 

It was supposed to be taken as a joke, something controversial in a room amongst men, locker room talk if you would. Unfortunately for him and the rest of his team, Bonten didn’t see it that way. What was said wasn’t important, but the intent behind it was enough to make them hostile. And Kaiju would soon realize it too late despite no one laughing on that side of the room. If anything, the room grew colder. No matter who you looked at, venom consumed their gazes, a deathly aura building from their leader all the way to the advisors. The only reason no one reached for their gun, mowing them down in an array of bullets, was because you didn’t hear the disrespectful comment. 

All gazes shifted over to you briefly, sitting pretty in your little area they set up just for you. They liked having you close by, even during something so mundane as a meeting, watching you happily paint your nails or open up all the shiny new trinkets they bought you. Kaiju should count themselves lucky that you had headphones on, blissfully listening to music, not a care in the world.

And it was going to stay that way. 

By now, the dumbasses before them caught on to their grave error. Especially when Sanzu made a show of santuring over to you upon Mikey’s silent request, swiftly gathering you in his arms and carrying you to the head of the table. You squealed slightly in surprise, headphones slipping off your ears in the process as you held on to the pink-haired gangster, confused smile on your face. “Haru! You scared me!~” 

“Sorry, doll. Boss wants ya to sit right here.” Sanzu gently sets you down on your awaited throne, Mikey having made room by scooting his chair back, welcoming you with open arms. 

Still confused though not complaining, you merely shrugged before making yourself comfortable, snuggling more into the leader before putting your headphones back on. Mikey held you possessively, arms locked around you like a shield, placing a small kiss to your forehead. Message was sent; message soon received. 

Kaiju’s leader began blubbering out more excuses, reprimanding his subordinate in the same breath for saying such a thing about Bonten’s trophy wife–

Guns are drawn instantly and zeroed in on every last one of them. Stunned to horrified silence, as were his underlings, they all stood frozen in fear as they stared down multiple barrels in every angle. Koko scoffed, “You must got a death wish, huh?” 

“She’s no trophy, have some goddamn respect,” Mochi added, earning a sardonic chuckle from Ran. 

“Big ask from idiots who have none. Couldn’t even bother to show up on time, now they wanna make jabs at our [_____]. I say we’ve been more than courteous, wouldn’t you agree, otouto?” 

“Tsk. Let’s just waste ‘em. We’d be doing the streets a favor.” 

“Great idea,” Sanzu and Takeomi answered in unison, the former sounding twice as eager. 

The only ones placid were Kakucho and Mikey, one quietly observing whilst the other made sure you remained ignorant to the situation, angling you in his lap to where you were practically straddling him, phone still in hand as you watched a music video your favorite k-pop group dropped recently. The only sounds in the room were the panicked breathing of Kaiju and your melodic humming to the song. Mikey patted your head, satisfied that you were still your happy self. If any of those bastards made your smile drop even a centimeter, he would have their bodies fed to the dogs. With a small sigh, he and Kakucho eventually made eye contact. Then, he gave a small nod. “You were right. Should’ve killed them after that shitty presentation. Handle it.” 

Kakucho gave a curt nod, then signaled for Kaiju to be apprehended. With guns still aimed at them, leaving them no choice but to grovel for mercy, the Haitanis along with Mochi and Takeomi forced them to march out of the room, and to their inevitable deaths, not wanting to startle you with the sight of bloodshed so early in the morning.

Sanzu was already dialing up reinforcements to help with cleanup and disposal, face beaming as he practically skipped out of the room. Kakucho gave one last look to you, then Mikey, then politely bowed before closing the door behind him on his way out. You jumped slightly, the song ending right when the door slammed shut, making you lift one of your headphones and look around in shock.

“Oh, is the meeting over already?” 

Mikey reached up to thumb your lower lip, then reached up to playfully pinch your cheek. You grinned, gently swatting him away, so oblivious to the men you inadvertently sent to their demise all to protect that very smile. The former blonde shook his head, leaning on the armrest to rest his chin atop his knuckles. “No. Ended up being a waste of time. Don’t think you would’ve liked them.” 

You chortled. “Doesn’t matter if I like them. It’s your business, silly.” 

“Mm, you are our business, angel. And we like you more.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[madrone33]

For people who actually need to write about something they don't know, here's some tips that changed how I saw that saying:

A lot of the time, stuff you don't know can be fixed by looking it up. Like if you don't know how to build a medieval sword but your character is making one. That's something you can find online or in a book or by talking to an expert. But for the more nebulous stuff, it's more about the feeling than the actual thing.

Say your character is an alien in the prestigious Relclaosyi, but no one wants to partner with them for the dragshvli team up mission because their eyes don't hshsh like everyone else's and no one likes that.

You as the writer are (probably) not an alien, and so how could you possible know what being an alien is like? But what you do know, or at least can put yourselves into the shoes of, is someone who's an outcast for something out of your control. That feeling is what you write down, and all the space bits are just accessories to that feeling.

“write what you know” yeah but what if i write what i could never know. i DO NOT know what it’s like to be a sea cucumber. but i would like to find out

[helen-with-an-a]

Hello, I hope you’re fine! 🤗

I kind of have an request/idea. It’s not very detailed but I’ve read a lot of fics where it’s like: r is (best) friends with player and secretly in love with them, and the whole team is like „it’s so obvious she likes you back“. I always wonder how it would be if the players feelings aren’t obvious? Like from an outsider point of view it actually seems like the player doesn’t reciprocate r’s feelings and only wants to be friends? Even though that’s not true. More or less angst with a happy ending. Hope that makes sense 😅

Totally okay of your not into this „idea“ ofc!! Thanks :)

Something's Different

So I definitely changed this but I really like how it turned out and I hope you do too. I think this still kinda fits what you were after tho.

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Description: Something is definitely different with Georgia and Keira is trying to figure out what

Keira stared at her best friend, her brows furrowing. Something was different about Georgia today. She looked the same – her familiar smooth ponytail and bright smile, her laughter still rang with the same infectious energy. Yet there was something off, a subtle shift that Keira couldn't quite place.

“Kei?” Leah called, her concern growing for her ginger friend as she studied Georgia. “Keira?” she tried again.

“Something’s different,” Keira stated matter-of-factly.

“Huh?” Leah asked, confused. The blonde looked from Keira to Georgia and back, trying to see something that only Keira could spot.

“Something’s different with Gee,” Keira reiterated.

“Is there?” Leah turned her head, scrutinising Georgia.

Georgia stood in front of her cubby; one foot propped against the wooden bench as she reached to tie her shoelaces. You were next to her, of course, one leg drawn up to your chest, your hands busy fiddling with your boots while the two of you were deep in conversation, eyes locked on each other. The world around you faded into a blur as if nothing else mattered but Georgia.

“She looks the same to me,” Leah concluded, her tone dismissive.

“Something’s different,” Keira mumbled again, her eyes narrowing as she studied Georgia more intently. There was a lightness to her movements, a glow to her skin, as if she had discovered something that had shifted her perspective on the world.

You laughed loudly at something Georgia had said, the sound infectious and bright. Georgia joined in a moment later, her laughter harmonising perfectly with yours, both of you moving in sync as you gathered your belongings for training.

“Maybe it’s just me,” Keira murmured, unable to shake the feeling that something was different with her best friend.

-----

The canteen buzzed with the chatter. The Lionesses were always a noisy bunch, but Keira's focus was solely on you. You sat with the City players, Georgia sat right next to you like always.

“Keep frowning, and your face will stay like that,” Lucy teased, walking up to Keira, her playful tone cutting through Keira’s concentration.

“Something’s different,” Keira explained, her voice barely above a whisper as she kept her eyes trained on you, her eyebrows scrunching concern.

“About who?” Lucy asked, her expression shifting as her eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of what might be out of the ordinary.

“Gee,” Keira replied.

“Not this again,” Leah chimed in, spinning around to face them with an exaggerated sigh, her own gaze following Keira’s to the table.

“What?” Lucy asked, clearly confused by the sudden shift from Leah

“She was banging on about this the other day,” Leah elaborated, rolling her eyes in frustration. “She’s convinced something’s different with Gee.”

“Nothing seems wrong,” Lucy commented, her head tilting to the side.

“That’s ‘cause you’re bloody blind,” Keira shot back, pursing her lips in irritation. “Something is definitely different with Gee.” The words hung in the air like a challenge, daring Lucy to say differently.

Leah and Lucy exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond. “What do you mean?” Leah pressed, trying to understand.

“It’s like… I don’t know, she’s just different. I can’t put my finger on it, but it feels like she’s–” Keira hesitated, searching for the right words. “Like she’s just come into her own or something.”

“You mean more confident?” Lucy suggested.

“Maybe, but it’s more than that. It’s like she’s … glowing. I don't know.” Keira’s gaze softened as she watched Georgia animatedly gesturing, the sunlight catching the strands of her hair, making them glimmer.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Lucy said. “What if she really has changed? People do grow, you know.”

“Yeah, but this feels different, like she’s been given permission to be whoever she wants to be,” Keira murmured, unable to shake the feeling that something monumental was unfolding right before her eyes.

You were leaning imperceptibly closer to Georgia, your body angled just enough to catch every word she was saying over the shouts of laughter. The bustling noise faded into a background hum as you focused entirely on her, tilting your head slightly to catch her voice. Your smile grew broad in response to something Georgia had whispered in your ear. Georgia’s own smile mirrored yours, lighting up her face in a way, her eyes shimmering.

In that moment, the two of you existed in a world of your own making, where shared jokes and whispers held a special kind of magic. Georgia opened her mouth as if to say something more, her eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief, but the moment was abruptly interrupted when someone called your name from across the room. Georgia looked up instinctively at your name. You waited a moment longer, letting your eyes scan over Georgia's face before turning to see who had called you. When you were suitably distracted, Georgia looked back to you, her eyes tracing lines over your face, as if checking everything was still ok.

Keira narrowed her eyes, determined to store this information away for later.

As you turned back to Georgia, your expression still bright from the conversation, Keira felt a twinge of something – protectiveness, maybe? She couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but it was clear that whatever was happening between you and Georgia was significant.

-----

Keira jumped as the door to her and Georgia’s shared bedroom slammed shut, the sudden noise reverberating through the small space like a thunderclap. Georgia stormed past her, anger radiating off her in waves, before launching herself onto her bed with a heavy thud. The mattress groaned under the sudden impact.

“Gee?” Keira ventured cautiously, not wanting to provoke her friend further.

“What?” Georgia huffed, her voice tight as she turned her back to Keira.

“You good?” Keira asked, her tone gentle.

“Yup,” Georgia replied. She popped the ‘p’ with emphasis, a gesture that conveyed more than her words ever could. It told Keira everything she needed to know about Georgia’s current mood – one that was anything but fine.

“Wanna talk about it?” Keira offered, her heart aching for her friend.

“Nope,” Georgia shot back, popping the 'p' again, her voice flat as she whipped out her phone, fingers flying over the screen.

Keira let out a small sigh. “I’ll be here if you want to,” she said softly, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips.

For a moment, Keira sat in silence, watching Georgia scroll through her phone, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. As the seconds ticked by, the air in the room felt thick with unspoken tension, a stark contrast to the usually light-hearted atmosphere they shared. Keira’s mind raced, filled with questions. Was it something that happened at in training? A falling out with someone? Or perhaps something deeper, something that had been simmering for a while?

“Well, if you what to, I'm here,” Keira mumbled, turning to gather her bits for a shower.

-----

“Obi said he was nice,” you commented to Millie, looking up at her with an unsure smile, hoping she’d have some magic solution to your problem. Obi’s glowing recommendation had made the whole thing sound almost too good to pass up, but deep down, you felt uneasy.

“Yeh, but do you actually want to go on a date with him?” Millie countered, crossing her arms and giving you a knowing look. You winced at her tone.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, your thoughts running a mile a minute. The truth was, you didn’t want to go. The idea of it made your heart sink. There was only one person you wanted to spend time with, to share a laugh or a quiet moment, to go on dates and kiss until your heart was content ... and that person certainly wasn’t interested in you.

Millie watched you, her eyes softening. “Look, the way I see it,” she began gently, “if you do go on a date with this dude, and you’re not really into it, that’s kind of leading him on, isn’t it? And that’s not fair to either of you.”

You sighed again, the weight of your dilemma pressing down on your shoulders. “Yeah, I know. I don’t want to hurt him or make things awkward. But…” You paused, struggling to put your feelings into words. “Going on a date with someone else is the only way I can think of getting over her.”

Millie’s face softened with a look of understanding, and she nodded. “Ahhh, mystery girl,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, a grin spreading across her face.

“Oh, shut up,” you groaned, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as you whined.

“I’m just saying!” Millie teased, nudging you with her elbow. “Whoever she is, she's got you down baaaad.” She chuckled, giving you a sympathetic look. “But honestly, have you ever thought about, oh, i don't know … telling her how you feel?”

You shook your head quickly, laughing a little too loudly. “No way. She’s way out of my league. Besides, I don’t want to mess things up and make it all awkward.” Your eyes drifted subconsciously over to the familiar sight of Georgia walking through the hallway, her brown-blonde ponytail swaying gently with each step. She walked in stride beside Leah and Lucy, her shoulders slumped slightly.

You felt a pang in your chest. Georgia had been pulling away from you since last night. You weren't sure why or what the cause was, but her answers were short, she refused to sit next to you at breakfast and lunch, and during training, she had all but run away from you when you turned to her for a partner.

Millie tilted her head, her expression softening. “You never know,” she said gently., pulling your attention back to her. “Sometimes, the things we think are impossible aren’t so impossible after all. Maybe she’d surprise you.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending not to consider her words, even though they tugged at something deep inside you. Part of you wished Millie was right, that a confession wouldn’t ruin everything. But the way Georgia was acting right now made you think differently. Maybe keeping it a secret was for the best.

Keira watched you from over her coffee. She was just close enough to hear the conversation if she concentrated hard enough. She had watched the way you bit your lip as you studied Georgia, a nervous expression on your face.

A date back in Germany? A mystery girl that had your heart?

Keira took a slow sip of her coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly as she pieced things together. She had been observing you for a while now – your stolen glances toward Georgia, the way your shoulders tensed every time her name came up in conversation, and, of course, your slight blush whenever Georgia happened to walk by. This “mystery girl” wasn’t much of a mystery to Keira anymore.

Her mind flashed back to all the subtle hints: the way you perked up whenever Georgia entered a room, or how you seemed to find an excuse to be near her, no matter the situation. She knew you and Georgia were close. You lived together in Munich, Georgia had not-so-subtly followed you out to the Bundesliga, you were like Lessi and Tooney - always together, it was weird whenever you weren't together.

“Got something on your mind, Kei?” Mary asked, having noticed the far-off look in Keira’s eyes.

Keira snapped back to the present, offering Mary a nonchalant smile. “Just thinking … how some people are a bit oblivious.”

-----

“Gee, please,” you begged, feeling your heart twist painfully as Georgia stormed into the empty changing room, her face flushed with a mix of frustration and hurt. She wouldn’t even look at you as she strode over to her locker.

“If you want to go on a date so badly, just do it!” she shouted, yanking her locker open with such force it banged against the wall.

You stood frozen for a moment, her words echoing in your head, sharp and bitter. “But why are you angry?” you asked, your voice trembling as you tried to keep yourself from crying. Georgia’s silence was deafening, broken only by the sounds of her furious movements as she tossed items aside. She didn’t respond, just huffed in irritation.

“Please, Gee,” you tried again, voice barely above a whisper. But Georgia’s only response was to grab something from her locker with far too much force, her expression hardening as if she were putting up every wall she could muster.

“No! Just go on that bloody date, will you?” she snapped, refusing to meet your gaze.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek, the hurt of her dismissal cutting deep. “But you’re mad at me. Gee, please. I don’t understand.”

Georgia’s jaw clenched, her shoulders tense as if she were holding back a torrent of words she couldn’t control. “No, I’m not,” she replied tersely, but the lie was as see-through as a window.

“For fuck’s sake, Gee,” you said, the crack in your voice betraying the heartbreak you felt. “You’re my best friend. We live together, for Christ’s sake. I know when you’re mad at me.”

At that, Georgia whirled around, her gaze blazing as she finally locked eyes with you, her expression a mix of anger and raw vulnerability that you hadn’t seen before.

“You want to know why I’m mad? Huh?” she demanded, her voice strained, holding back something too big to contain. You nodded, feeling your own breath catch as you steadied yourself, bracing for whatever was coming.

“I’m mad because it should be me." Her voice broke as the words tumbled out in a rush, a wave of a confession she couldn’t take back. “I should be the one to take you on dates. I should be the one who gets to kiss you and hold your hand. I should be the one who brings you flowers just because and makes you your favourite meal after training.” Her voice wavered, but her eyes held steady, piercing into yours with a fierce intensity. “Me! Not him. Me!”

She took a shaky breath, her expression softening just enough for you to see the pain beneath her anger. “And I can’t do any of that because… because you’re not mine. You never have been.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

You stood there, her words crashing over you, and for a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe. You wanted to reach out, to touch her, to somehow convey that she’d been wrong all along – that she didn’t need permission, that she already had a hold on you far deeper than she realised.

Your voice finally returned, soft and trembling. “Gee… I ... I didn't know.”

“Well, now you do,” she murmured, barely able to meet your gaze as she shrugged. You stepped closer, closing the space between you, feeling your heart race as you reached for her hand, testing the waters.

“I've always been yours,” you whispered, lifting her chin so that she’d look at you. “I don’t want him, Gee. I've never wanted anyone else. I only want you.”

Georgia’s breath caught, her eyes widening as the reality of your words sank in. Slowly, her expression softened, the anger melting away, replaced by something gentler, something fragile and fresh.

"Y-you do?"

"Of course, I do. Ever since we rocked up to City on that first day and we were both batshit terrified. I ... I love y-"

Lips met yours in a frantic moment. As sweet as sugar, Georgia let her fingers glide into your hair as you gripped her shirt tightly.

"Can I take you for lunch when we get back to Munich?" Georgia whispered when you parted, her eyes still shut, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"As long as I can take you for dinner," you smiled back, leaning up to kiss her again.

-----

The door to their shared bedroom slammed shut again, but this time the atmosphere was completely different. There was no angry huffing, no frustrated muttering under her breath. Instead, Georgia practically glided across the room, throwing herself onto her bed with an energy Keira could only describe as … gleeful.

Keira tilted her head, watching Georgia with mounting curiosity as her friend landed on the bed and rolled onto her back, phone in hand, her thumbs moving at lightning speed across the screen. A small, knowing smirk played on Keira’s lips as she took in the scene, noting the way Georgia’s eyes sparkled with a new kind of light, her cheeks flushed with something decidedly un-angry.

“Gee?” Keira asked, bewilderment and amusement lacing her tone.

“What?” Georgia replied absently, barely looking up from her phone.

“You good?” Keira pressed, raising an eyebrow, trying to hide the grin threatening to break through.

Georgia finally looked up, just enough to reveal the unmistakable giddiness etched into her features. “Yep,” she said with a huge smile, her gaze flicking back to her phone as she tapped out another message. A soft giggle escaped her, and she bit her lip to stifle it, but it was too late – Keira had noticed everything.

“Want to talk about it?” Keira asked, her voice deliberately casual as she perched on the edge of her bed across from Georgia, arms crossed in curiosity.

“Nope,” Georgia replied, her face lighting up again as she read the latest message, a quiet laugh bubbling from her lips. She seemed almost oblivious to Keira’s questioning gaze, too lost in whatever – or whoever – was on the other side of her screen.

Keira watched her with a mixture of fondness and amusement, unable to hold back a smile as Georgia’s laughter filled the room, soft but genuine. She knew better than to push; whatever Georgia was holding close, she’d share in her own time.

“I’ll be here if you want to,” Keira said softly, a knowing smile creeping across her face as she settled back against her pillows. Georgia didn’t respond, too lost in her world of giddy texting, but the slight blush on her cheeks told Keira all she needed to know.

Something was definitely different with Georgia.

[azzifuddfanpage]

testing the waters

OKAY NEW PAZZ FIC THANKS TOO 😛 ANON

There would not have been a fic if it weren’t for their amazing prompt so bless 😍

^if u wanna read their prompt look at my last post

themes: friends to lovers/ fluff

tw: SMUT

Azzi walked through the doors of Gampel Pavilion. She had just gotten to campus not even an hour before and was already having her first meeting with the team. 

Azzi stood by the back with the other freshman. Still getting adjusted to the thrill of the change in atmosphere. 

Standing on the court was unreal. Azzi turned her head admiring the bleachers and banners that lined the walls. She took in all the greats that came before her, all names she knew and studied growing up. She couldn’t believe that she was finally here, hopefully going to follow in their footsteps.

Azzi listened carefully as Geno’s voice carried through the walls.

“This team that is here right now is one that will never be the same again. This year, with this team, this is temporary. Next year there will be new people, seniors will be gone, and the team will be a whole new team again.” He paused scanning the room eyeing the freshman. 

“You will value every moment you have with this team, build your chemistry now or it will be too late.”  He continued pacing along in front of the group. 

Azzi felt someone’s hand brush against her wrist and a warm gentle breath draw close to her ear. 

“Don’t worry he is all talk. He’s not this scary all the time- well actually maybe just try to stay on his good side.” Azzi knew this voice. 

She turned her head slightly coming face to face with Paige Bueckers. She actually hadn’t prepared herself for how close they would really be, accidentally turning and even feeling  Paige’s breath on her lips. Azzi’s face flushed and she tried to play it off backing up and giggling.

—-

Her and Paige went way back. Paige was even one of the reasons she went to UConn in the first place. 

They had been best friends since 2016 when they met playing for team USA. All it took was one plane ride back to Minnesota and they were best friends for life.

Azzi always had loved Paige. Her laugh, her smile, her long blonde hair, her big blue eyes, her pink lips… just normal best friend type of stuff. But as she got older she started to feel differently about Paige. About girls in general.

Azzi had always liked boys- well she liked watching movies about them. Love and basketball was her favorite movie- “I want that type of relationship.” Azzi would say, almost convincing herself. 

The thing was, she never really knew if she actually ever had feelings for a guy before. Yes she thought they were attractive. In a world where she personally knew Steph Curry, who wouldn’t think guys were attractive. But the thing was, whenever she pictured a future it never included a guy. Infact Azzi would picture herself alone before she would picture herself settling down with a guy. 

Her and Paige even talked about living together jokingly as high schoolers in a purely innocent way.

“If we both don’t find someone by the time we are thirty- I’m gonna have to just marry you.” Paige said with a laugh. Azzi laughed but her laugh never went deeper than the surface. She would have given anything to live with Paige, to marry her, to spend the rest of her life with her. Things would have just been so much easier. 

But what did any of that even mean. Paige was just her best friend. Her beautiful, talented best friend, her hot as fu-. Azzi didn’t really finish that thought. Shutting it down before she could let herself admit what she deep down knew already. 

—-

“Ya I don’t know about that he seems pretty serious.” Azzi whispered back looking up and gulping when she saw Geno look at her while he spoke. 

Paige reassuringly squeezed her wrist, sending butterflies down Azzi’s stomach. Actually they felt more like bald eagles than butterflies to be honest. 

—-

An hour later after he was done talking they had a few hours to go back to the dorms before their offseason weight room. 

Since Underclassman were not allowed to have cars on campus- Azzi being a freshman and Paige a sophmore decided to walk back to the dorms rather than hitching a ride with the others. 

“So… what do you think of the campus so far. It’s awesome, you can say I was right and thank me whenever.” Paige said confidently as she watched Azzi scan the surroundings wide eyed, and taking everything in. 

“Ya everything is so much bigger. I’m gonna need an extra hour to get from class to class at this point.” Azzi replied with a laugh. 

They continued walking going about their day as usual. 

Azzi was excited for this new life at UConn, she looked forward to it. But something about the way Paige looked at her left her wanting more.

As the day turned to night everyone retired to their rooms.

After what felt like forever of just laying in bed unable to sleep Azzi sat up. 

12:30 AM Azzi read on her clock next to her. She flopped back down defeatedly. 

Azzi had never been away from her parents for more than a day, every team USA tournament her parents went to. She never didn’t have someone to tuck her in. 

“Not even 24 hours and I miss my mommy like I’m a five year old.” Azzi whispered to herself.

It may have been better if she had a roomate but no such luck. Her roomate, Ines was an exchange student meaning she would be flying in the next week instead of this one, meaning Azzi was stuck alone. 

She couldn’t hide the tear that slipped out of her eye. She could hear people talking down the hall. Her teammates maybe-hopefully.

She climbed out of bed, wearing her black tank top and pink boxer shorts and made her way out of her room. A little down the hall she saw Paige. 

Her blonde hair was unmistakable. Her laugh echoing down the long hallway. 

Azzi started to walk towards her when suddenly she got a glimpse of the person she was talking to. 

The girl was probably one of the prettiest ones she had ever seen- paige was prettier- and she had thick brown curls like Azzi, and tanned skin a bit lighter than Azzi’s. 

Azzi watched from a far, the pit in her stomach increasing at the way the girl reached out and squeezed Paige’s arm as she laughed. 

Azzi began to turn to head back down the hallway, not wanting to make herself feel any worse than she already felt, and ended up walking right into a lamp. 

The sound of the lamp colliding with the floor made Paige shift her attention down the hall where she saw…

“Azzi? Is that you?” She said confused as to why the freshman was up this late when she knew she always went to bed rather early. 

Azzi froze in her tracks, picking up the lamp and setting it back on the table. Wiping off her tears, she turned slowly. 

“Hi Paige.” She muttered just loud enough for her to hear. 

She watched as Paige said bye to the girl and they both walked as she walked down the stairs to leave.

Azzi could feel her heart pound as Paige walked closer towards her. 

“Why are you awake.” She checks her phone. “It’s 12:30! You should have been asleep like 3 hours ago huh.” She said softly.

Paige notices the wet streaks on Azzi’s cheek. 

“Baby are you okay?” Paige said wrapping an arm around her back. 

Azzi shivered at the nickname, that alone was enough to make Azzi forget everything that she was worried about. Forget being homesick, Paige was her home. 

“I’ve never slept by myself before.” Azzi admitted. 

Paige knew exactly what she meant. Azzi had always been a homebody, now states away from her parents, she was homesick.

“Oh shit I forgot you don’t even have a roommate either right?” Paige said looking at her and running her fingers through her hair lovingly.

Azzi shook her head. 

“Let’s get you back to bed.” Paige said walking her back to her room with her hand resting low and protectively on Azzi’s back.

As Azzi climbed back into bed, she attentively watched Paige’s every move. 

“Paige?” Azzi asked as Paige reentered her room with a glass of water.

“Ya.” Paige said handing it to Azzi and sitting down on the edge of the bed.  

“Can you stay with me. Just for tonight.” 

Paiges heart jumped. 

“I’ll stay with you everyday until Ines gets here how bout that?” Paige said standing up and kissing her forehead. 

Azzi melted into her touch. She could get used to that. 

Azzi nodded watching paige walk over to the other mattress, that had nothing on it. 

“Sleep with me.” Azzi said. 

Paige raised her eyebrow smirking. 

“OH MY GOD PAIGE!” Azzi shrieked throwing a pillow at her head, which Paige of course caught. 

Laughing Paige climbed into the small twin size bed with her. They were basically on top of each other, but they tried to keep their hands to themselves- for now.

—-

As the nights went by they started growing closer. Their touches were more affectionate as they lingered. Azzi even woke up the third day with Paiges arms wrapped around her waist, her shirt had risen and Paiges hands were dangerously close to her breasts. Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that she actually liked it. 

“Why the fuck do I want my best friend to touch my boobs?” Azzi said with shock, trying to push it to the side and just let Paige cling to her. 

—-

It was finally the weekend. This Saturday they had the day off. 

It was around 11:00 and Paige and Azzi were both in her bed. 

“Hey wanna watch a movie? We don’t have to be up early tomorrow.” Paige said turning to Azzi. “I brought my iPad.” She said grinning.

Azzi giggled, “only if we can watch frozen.” She said.

Paige sighed pulling it out and propping it against a pillow. 

“Whatever you want princess.” She said laughing. 

Azzi was praying to god that the purple led lights masked the red glow of her blush.

It was getting harder and harder for her to hide her feelings for Paige. She was so confused. She was striaght though. Definitely straight. Right??

—-

Halfway through the movie Paige got up to grab some snacks. 

Paige was wearing just a sports bra- literally no clue why- and Azzi could literally feel her heart beating, maybe something else too but she couldn’t pin point it.

Embarrassingly enough Azzi was a virgin. She hadn’t told anyone, no one really asked either. It wasn’t that no one liked her, she simply just didn’t feel the need to be with anyone like that. 

“Why would anyone want to suck someone’s dick that’s just nasty.” Azzi could not understand it for the life of her. 

But now with Paige, she would give anything to feel her fingers inside her…. Maybe she was just finally starting to want to have sex. She was just confused it wasn’t fine.

As paige reentered the room her breath shifted. The pants paige was wearing had hung even lower- showing the outline of her V-line, and she had two waters in her arms. Azzi’s attention immediately scanning up and down her body and then focusing on the vein bulging out of her bicep.

“Like what you see.” Paige smirked making her way over to Azzi and setting down the snacks and waters that were saying down her pockets.

Azzi felt her heat spread to her cheeks.

“Sorry I just-“ she honestly had no idea how to cover that up.

“It’s okay I get it. I have been hitting the weight room.” Paige said wrapping her arm around Azzi laughing as she could feel her tense up under her touch.

Paige always had thought Azzi was straight but now she wasn’t so sure. 

Azzi had never once talked about her love life. And the way she had looked at her the other day when paige was with another girl… the pieces were starting to connect.

A little while later, paige started to get curious, wanting to test her theory out. She began to move her hand a little lower on Azzi’s side. 

She listened to the rise and fall of Azzi’s breath, listened to it speed up as her hand began to move onto her thigh traveling closer and closer inward. 

Paige “coughed” accidentally brushing in between her legs causing Azzi to let out a soft moan. Azzi tried to cover it up with a cough but it was too late.

Paige leaned forward and whispered in her ear. 

“You like it when I touch you princess? Thought u were straight- I should’ve known a pretty girl like u would want something better than a man.” Paige growled causing Azzi to tense up completely caught off guard by her assumption.

Azzi had never told anyone this, she had no idea how Paige was able to see through her so easily.

“Paige I am straight, what are you talking abo-“ she was caught off by another one of her own gasps as Paige ran her hand back around and placed it on her upper ass. 

“See the way you look at me. You sure bout that?” Paige said confidently moving her hand so she was rubbing Azzi’s back through her clothes. 

Azzi’s breath hitched feeling Paiges long fingers slip under her shirt and explore higher on her back.

“You seriously mean to tell me you don’t feel anything when I touch you.” Paige said smirking as she continued to rub her back in a way that left Azzi’s mouth watering in desire. 

“I- I- don’t know. I don’t know what it feels like.” Azzi replied at a low whisper secretly hoping Paige wouldn’t hear it.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you have never had sex before?? What’s a pretty girl like you doing still a virgin.” Paige said honestly her hand stopping and staying rested on her back. 

“I don’t know just never found the right person I guess. I just don’t know what I am, I can’t tell if my feelings are real or not.” 

“We’ll have you ever thought about it.” Paige said simply. 

“Thought about what?” Azzi asked innocently not sure where this conversation was going. 

“About having sex…. I’m sure you have thought about it at least once.” Paige replied.

“I mean I guess kinda but I don’t even know anymore I just feel like my brain is playing tricks on me.” Azzi said shaking her head.

Paige turned Azzi’s face to look at her by grabbing her chin gently. 

“Wanna test it out?” Paige said experimentally. 

“What do you mean test it out.” Azzi asked confused. 

“Paige brought her hand to the front of Azzi’s shirt gently moving it up towards her breasts over her clothes, avoiding them but paying all the attention to them at the same time. 

“I mean why don’t you just try it, like get it out of your system, fuck me and then I gaurentee you will know exactly how you should be feeling.” Paige leaned closer into Azzi’s ear grabbing her by the front of her shirt. 

“I will make you feel better than anyone else baby.” Paige whispered seductively. Azzi could feel something wet between her legs. She couldn’t explain it, it was  feeling she had never really had before.

Without thinking about what this would mean, Azzi nodded.

“Let’s start slow, hm? Ease you into it.” Paige said softly. 

Azzi nodded, she trusted paige more than anything. If paige could show her what she needed to know, then why not. 

With that, Paige brought her lips so they were hovering just above Azzi’s. 

“Let me know when you feel something.” Paige said suggestively right before connecting her lips to Azzi’s. 

There was no turning back now. Both girls sinking into the kiss. Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s back grabbing at her ass, and Azzi instinctively stabilized herself by grabbing Paige’s neck. 

The kiss grew quickly. Azzi let out soft moan telling paige exactly what she needed to know.  The second Azzi opened her mouth again letting out a soft whine against paige’s lips, paige shoved her tongue inside her mouth. 

Azzi moaned into her mouth feeling Paiges tongue fight against her own. Paige really knew what she was doing. 

Both girls worked to get closer to each other, causing paige to lay down on top of Azzi, sticking her leg in between hers. As the kiss quickened, paige moved her knee and pressed it against Azzi’s core causing her to let out a shrill moan. 

She had never been touched like that before, paige knew just how to make her feel seen. No one had ever taken care of her needs like this before. 

As Azzi began to get more comfortable and grind down on her knee desperate for some friction, Paige pulled back from her. 

“You feel anything yet?” Paige said giggling as she could see just how dilated Azzi’s eyebrows were desperately in need of her touch.

“Yes a little.” Azzi admitted focusing down on paige’s fingers that rested on her thigh.

Paige noticed this and smirked, she started to move her fingers closer to Azzi’s center. 

“Only a little?” Paige said slyly. “That’s a shame, I thought I felt a little something myself.” Paige said suggestively leaning forward into Azzi’s ear causing her breath to hitch. 

“And I really wanted to know what my fingers felt like inside of you.” Paige said smirking against Azzi’s ear. 

Azzi couldn’t resist it anymore, grabbbing paige’s collar and pulling her back to her lips.

As Azzi’s tongue filled paige’s mouth, she heard paige let out a tiny soft moan. 

“Need you so bad. Show me please. Teach me.” Azzi whined running her hands along paige’s bare abs. 

Paige smirked knowingly. 

“So needy for me huh.” Paige said reaching down so her thumb was now directly on Azzi’s pussy. She started to rub at it blindly through her clothes.

Feeling Azzi thrust towards her she looked into her eyes.

“Can I take these off baby?” Paige asked not looking away from her big brown eyes begging to be fucked.

Without a word Azzi lifted her but so paige could pull down her shorts and panties in one sweep. 

As the air hit her slick she felt nothing but fear and embarrassment. She tried to close her legs, suddenly afraid of what this would mean for her, but paige caught them keeping them apart. 

Azzi looked into paige’s eyes and saw nothing but love as paige eyed her pussy hungrily. She laughed. Oops.

Paige looked up at her laughter.

“What’s so funny.” Paige asked confused. 

“Nothing it’s just ironic. I think I have had a crush on you this whole time and now hear you are literally staring at my pussy the way I have stared at you all these years.” Azzi answered smiling. 

Paige smirked running her hands up her inner thigh, leaning forward to press a kiss against her. Azzi moaned.

She placed another kiss equidistant to the last one.

“I-“ paige started, then left another kiss, sucking a bit harder this time.

“Have felt-” continuing and leaving another kiss.

“The same-“ going back in one more time right above her mound. 

“Way.” She finished settling so now she was just hovering over her pussy.

“Don’t just love this pussy tho.” Paige winked right before diving in to attack her clit with her tongue licking a long stripe up her starting from the entrance of her hole and ending at the bundle of nerves. Azzi moaned loudly tugging at paige’s hair, partially from the love confession, and also from the feeling of paige’s powerful tongue attacking her clit. 

Azzi couldn’t contain her moans as paige sucked and nipped at her clit pullljngbvack and spiting into it spreading the mixture of spit and cum around her clit with her fingers before sliding one of her fingers teasingly into her hole. 

Azzi thrusted forward greedily, needing to feel paige as close to inside of her as possible. 

“Baby relax” paige started “lemme show you why gay is better.” She finished before shoving a finger into Azzi. 

Azzi’s eyes widened and she propped herself up on her elbows so she could see paige ponding the finger into her and simultaneously using her thumb to rub at her clit in small circles. 

“You’re so tight holy fuck.” Paige said as she added another finger leaving Azzi gasping and  moving one of her hands to pull paige towards her to kiss her. 

Paige swallowed her moans continuing to feel around her cervix with her finger as it went in and out, the wet squishing of Azzi’s cum against paige’s fingers filled the silence of the room. 

Pulling back from the kiss paige resumed her focus on her pussy, attaching her tongue to her clit and sucking as she pounded in and out of her.

Paiges middle finger brushed against her g spot causing Azzi to let out a loud breathy moan, arching her back shoving her pussy into  paige’s face. 

Motivated by Azzi’s actions, paige pulled back again from her clit, using her thumb to rub it up and down, separating her folds to expose the pink center of her clit. 

“Prettiest pussy in the world. She loves me.” Paige whispered as if talking to her pussy. 

Azzi sat up to look again as paige slowed down, when all of a sudden paige used one of her hands to press down on Azzi’s lower stomach making her feel like she was about to pee, and her with her other hand that was thrusting two fingers in and out of her, she slipped in a third, barely fitting it in Azzi’s tight cunt. 

Azzi moaned watching the way her pussy sucked in her fingers so naturally. 

As paige leaned back down to her clit, three fingers still pounding into her with power and force, the pressure of paige’s tongue against her was almost too much. 

“Paige I’m gonna cum oh my god.” Azzi moaned throwing her head back. 

“You can cum for me baby.” Paige said against her pussy the vibrations sending her over the top as she could no longer hold back anymore, streams of cum pouring out of her and paige stuck her tongue out drinking it all up.

Paige slowly worked her fingers getting her through the climax as Azzi was left a heap of tears and moans, still very out of breath. The warm sensation still tingling in her pants. 

“Welp I’m definitely gay.” Azzi said with a laugh as paige joined her on the bed. 

“Thank god, I have been waiting to hear you say that for fucking years.” paige said turning to her.

“Really?!” Azzi said surprised that who she now realized was her childhood crush had felt the same way for all these years.

“Damn we really have been waiting time not trying this sooner.” Azzi continued, laughing as she saw the paige’s mouth still glistening in the lights with her cum. 

“Well I guess we will have to just make this a daily thing then huh.” Paige said smirking pulling Azzi closer to her.

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll show you how to eat me.” 

“How about now.” Azzi said confidently flipping them over so paige was back on top of her, where Azzi shimmied down so paige’s cunt was directly above her. 

Pulling her shorts and panties to the side, she got right to work. 

[meelusinee]

A YULE PROPOSAL | J.P X READER

word count \ 1.1k | fluff and stuff | slash / james potter x reader

in which james asks you out to the Yule Ball author's note at the end!

A YULE PROPOSAL | JAMES POTTER X READER

James Potter was many things.

He was a cheerful kind of person. Always upbeat, always uplifting no matter what. He was popular, almost anyone wanting to be with him or be him. A bit of a jock, though caring nonetheless. Loving to a fault, fault line nonexistent in his mind.

Though one thing that anyone could tell when looking at him was that he was in love with you. 

You were always being spoiled by him. He’d get you expensive gifts, or take you on expensive trips. Small cafe dates, shopping for clothes and jewelry, or making any small gift was a specialty of his. He adored spoiling you, in any sense of the word.

And now it was Yule season coming up. He was nervous to ask you, even though he knew you'd say yes. You two were dating, after all.

So, he had to come up with a plan.

“Are you serious James?” Remus asked, eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion and desperation. “You don’t actually expect us to do this, do you?”

“Yup!” he smiled brightly at Remus. “You’re gonna do it with me, right Pads?”

“Course I am!” he chuckled brightly, standing up and patting James on the back proudly. “Anything to spend my mom’s money on useless stuff.”

“It’s not useless!” he gasped offendedly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius said, patting James on the head as best as he could. It wasn’t much, but it was an honest effort. “Whatever you say, Prongs.”

“Course it’s what I say,” he grumbled before sighing, looking at Remus and Peter. “Please?”

“10 Galleons.” Remus said sternly, holding his palm out. “I want payment or I’m not doing it. 20 and I’ll give you the best damn performance.”

“30 and I get to dress you up.” Sirius smirked, hands on his hips.

“50.” he said, voice as deadpanned as he could make it. James knew he would do it for free, that was what Remus was like. But this seemed too funny to interrupt, if he was being honest.

“Deal.” Sirius said with a wide smirk on his face, fiddling with his pockets before putting the 50 Galleons in his hand. “Pete? 50 Galleons?”

“Do I have a choice?” he asked.

“Nope.” Sirius said with a smile.

Peter sighed softly, shaking his head. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Sirius said excitedly, him and James jumping up and down.

“Okay, I have a game.” he said, pulling out a large piece of rolled paper to lay against the Common Room’s coffee table.

There was a large amount of rain hitting your window, your eyes focused on the paper that you were studying. It was nearing the end of the exams, not just Yule season.

Speaking of Yule season, you were quite excited. James hadn’t asked you to go to the ball. You knew that it was probably just stress though, so you weren’t too mad about it.

He had exams just like you, not to mention leading the Quidditch team and tolerating his friends’ pranks. Most times, you weren’t sure how he did it.

All in all, he had a lot of responsibilities.

Which is why you didn’t mind if he didn’t ask you to go to the ball. You decided to take a break from studying, looking outside of the window. Your eyes squinted to look at the different trees and forms of nature outside, the breeze running through your room.

“M’lady!” 

Your eyes squinted a bit harder as you heard someone calling, looking down at the ground. There stood Peter, one of James' friends. 

You stuck your head out of the window confusedly, looking down at him. “Pete?”

“M’lady!” he smiled brightly, though a bit awkwardly.

You chuckled at that, though you weren’t sure why he was standing in the cold like that. “Why are you just standing outside?”

“I am awaiting the Majesty.” he said, voice echoing through the night. 

“The what?” you smiled awkwardly.

Then came the sound of neighing, though you could tell it wasn’t from an actual horse. You frowned, making your way downstairs and towards the door he was standing in front of.

“What on Earth,” you muttered confusedly.

There stood James with Remus and Sirius behind him, all three of them riding the fake pony sticks you’d buy as a child at a muggle store. 

“We are here on behalf of Your Majesty, James Potter.” Sirius called out, dismounting himself from the fake horse. “He has requested your presence at the annual Yule Ball hosted in the Great Hall.”

“That rhymed,” Peter said with a small smile, chuckling softly. Sirius laughed loudly at that, with Remus stealing the paper from his hand.

“M’lady,” he said. “Sir James Potter, son of Fleamont Potter and first of his name, formally invites you, Y/N L/N, to the Yule Ball. Filled with fond fellowship and fellow acquaintances at the end of this month.”

James was standing behind Remus with a hopeful grin, the smile that you had come to love more than anything after years together.

“What is your response, Madame?” Remus said. His voice was incredibly deadpan, unlike Sirius and Peter’s laughter in the background. No doubt that he had practiced this.

“Yes,” you chuckled softly, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to figure out what was going on. In all honesty, you felt like you were in a fever dream.

“Yes!”’James cheered excitedly, jumping up and down and running around the field. Sirius followed after him in his dog form, barking excitedly as James cheered excitedly.

You chuckled quietly as you watched him run around, smiling as Peter came closer and crowned you with a paper crown.

“Thank you, Knight Pete.” you chuckled.

James eventually calmed down after a couple of minutes, walking up to you out of breath. “Hi love,”

“Hi James,” you laughed as you saw him try to catch his breath, moving the hair out of his face as best as you could. “Did you have fun?”

“I did!” he smiled gleefully, looking at you. “Did you?”

“Yes, I did.” you smiled softly.

He nodded, pulling you into a hug. “I love you,” he whispered in your ear, squeezing your body in his arms. “I really wanted you to have a good proposal. It did take me some time to think of it though.”

You smiled softly, hugging him back before you heard Sirius groaning.

“Lovebirds!” he groaned, making a ‘bleh’ sound. 

“Oh hush!” James called out, throwing a ball of paper at him before turning over to you. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Later.” you promised, kissing his lips.

He smiled brightly at that, mounting his fake sticky horse and running off. Remus said a rather fancy farewell to you, climbing on the back of Sirius’ horse and running off. Peter was last, following them all to wherever they came from.

God, you loved James.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thanks for everything yawl are doing, it's really so amazing just how supportive all of you guys are! it's really shocking sometimes, to be honest wit you. thank you all so much, and hopefully you enjoyed!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, and reblog! have a happy new year lovelies!

[xr-377]

"I understand basic evolution, but again, what Councilman 7 is forgetting about natural selection is that the organism needs to survive in the first place."

The shadow that was Councilman 4 shifted, "Which organism, the virus or the Undead? Because if you are speaking of the latter that organism is already-

"I am aware the hosts are already dead!" There was a certain amount of risk to interrupting investors, significantly more so when they are faceless and backlit; not to mention commissioning reports about the 'unacceptable results' from clandestine remote geographically isolated testing events.

Still every disaster movie begins with a person in power ignoring the protests of a scientist. It behooved those wanting to use a disaster to stay in power to listen.

The silence and awkward shifting of shades gave way to Councilwoman 3's simple, "Expand."

"Thank you," the scientist moistened their lips in an attempt to calm down before trying to explain again. "In basic evolution and organism can only propagate, or spread in this case, if it can access more hosts. For the zombies created by these viral strands that means saliva or blood contamination via physical contact with humans.

"Humans that are effectively the Alpha Predators of every environment they have ever habitated in. Humans that, if they survive the initial wave of infection, are adaptable, healthy, inventive, and often armed.

"In order to propagate these Zombies need to take down their chief threat. Every. Time. It would be like if every time I wanted to eat a sandwich in the cafeteria I needed to fistfight a bear."

Another member of the council spoke, "But they don't need to feed, the feeding driver is only what facilitates the viral spread."

"Which is only going to work if I sink my teeth into the Bear!!"

"So what you are saying is after a point the virus strains aren't spreading at all. They are just dying off without propagation?"

"Exactly, especially given the effective finite limit to the amounts of hosts, the virus per infected barely get a chance to adapt to immune responses, let alone how it actually presents symptoms; in this case continued higher brain function.

"And that is also why, unlike Councilman 7's continued stubborn insistences, there are -not- super secret hyper mobile advanced killer special zombies that our clean up teams 'just can't find' ". They did the air quotes, for effect.

"What you are implying is that this is likely the limits of this project's capabilities, despite some on this council's wishful thinking."

"Yes," exasperated the scientist ran their hands through their hair, "You'd have better luck if all the virus did was cause excessive drooling and a compelling need to watch bright lights from cable news programs in sports bars while sneezing over bottomless wings baskets..."

There was a pregnant pause before Councilwoman 3, who had already noticed another trend of natural selection from their virus program that only left capable armed survivors with an independent streak and a severe distrust of authority figures, spoke and said, "...we can work with that."

It's basic evolution. Sure, the zombies start off slow, obvious and stupid, but those strains get killed by survivors before they can spread far. Any strain that's slower, stealthy or smarter will spread faster, and each new infection has more of those genes. After enough time…

[nosyp]

Hi Nosyp!, yandere player 120 (I don't remember her name) and fem reader.

Platonic, 120 is like an older sister to her.

(reader is the youngest of the team)

--🥬

Heyhi 🥬anon! Ty for the request🥰 and her name is Hyun Ju if you wanted to know

Title = Protective Bonds

Warnings = yandere behaviour, fighting,

Pairing = Yan! Hyun-Ju (Player 120) & fem! reader

Summary = Player 120, your older sister figure, has always had your back. When you're attacked, she’s there in an instant, her protective instincts turning dangerously possessive.

Word count = 1.5k words

The world around you felt like it was on the edge of breaking. Every day, you were forced to play a game you never signed up for. With each challenge worse than the last. But… amidst the chaos, there was one thing that survived loads of other games with you and that was Player 120.

She wasn’t like the others. Warm, nice, and caring, she had a presence that you adored. Despite being trapped on an island and forced to play sick games, she was still very caring towards you. Even though she had a cold and rough exterior, inside she was caring. She often checked up on you and teamed up with you for group games. She insisted on letting her go first or stuff like that since you’re pretty young. 

You’d never understood why she took an interest in you. Maybe it was the fact that you were small, quieter than the rest, or maybe it was just your sheer luck. Either way, she always made sure you stayed out of the crossfire, out of danger.

“Stay close,” she’d say, always with that same calm authority and warmth she had. “I’ll look out for you.”

Sometimes, you wondered if she really meant it, or if it was just her way of getting onto your good side, though you had no idea why. But no matter how much you tried to read her, she always seemed a step ahead. She was actually quite quiet, collected, and always vigilant. Everything she did was for you. Even if sometimes you didn’t realize it and how much you insisted you were fine, she still did it anyway. 

Of course, you couldn’t help but feel safe with her around, you could feel yourself starting to depend on her every second you spent with her. In a world where every ally, friend or partner could easily turn a quick 180, into an enemy, there was something oddly reassuring about having her by your side. She didn’t show much emotion often, and didn't let her guard down. But the way she always seemed to be watching over you. She kept an eye out for you when others or even you didn’t.

In this game of survival, you hadn’t realized how badly you needed someone to trust. Usually, the players that had no relationships or connections with others lost the fastest, especially in team games.

The tension in the air never eased, it was unrelenting. The games grew harder, the stakes higher, and every time you thought you could breathe, something new threatened to crush you. But she was always there for you. Hyun Ju moved strategically, aware of everyone and everything. 

You learned to trust her instincts over time from prior games with her. Ever since you got close with her, you started listening whenever she gave a command, even if it was just a simple ‘Stay close’ or ‘Follow me,’ you always obeyed without hesitation. It wasn’t just because she was good at what she did. It was because, in this game, she was the only constant. The only thing that made sense.

One evening, as you sat against the cold wall of the holding room, trying to ignore the anxiety gnawing at your insides, you felt a familiar presence beside you. 120 didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she just sat down, her posture slightly stiff and body alert as always. But there was something different in the air tonight. Something that made your chest tighten with unease.

"You look like you're thinking too much," she said quietly, her voice low and steady as usual.

You shrugged, though the weight of your thoughts was hard to ignore. "It's hard not to."

She turned her head just enough to catch your eye, her gaze soft but still intense in a way. "This game… It makes everyone think too much. Don't let it consume you."

You wanted to say something. Something to push the conversation deeper, to understand her better but the words caught in your throat. There was always this wall between you two, no matter how many times she told you to stay close or how many times you’d shared the same space. She was always so… distant. Not cold or anything, but distant. And that distance made her even more unknowable.

Suddenly, a sharp noise broke the silence. Fuck. There were heavy footsteps nearing the room. Your heart raced, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Without a word, Hyun Ju was immediately on her feet, her hand outstretched to you, pulling you up with a force that didn’t let you question it. There was no time to hesitate.

"Stay behind me," she ordered, her tone shifting, sharper now.

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest. This was different. The calm before the storm had ended.

The air was thick with tension as you followed her, hiding yourself behind her shadows. Hyun Ju was already positioning herself at the entrance, her eyes narrowed as she peered through the door’s small gap. Every muscle in her body was coiled like a spring, ready to react at a moment’s notice. It was a stark contrast to how she had been only moments ago. Opposite to her calm and collected side, now there was something darker in the air.

She wasn’t the type to show fear, but in that moment, you could sense it. Her every movement was precise, her eyes flicking between the door and you, keeping you close but not making it obvious. She viewed herself as your protector. And you viewed her as your protector as well. But even the bravest protectors could be afraid.

As the footsteps grew louder, you held your breath, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Hyun Ju didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The command in her presence alone was enough to make you freeze.

The door creaked open, and a masked figure stepped inside, their silhouette barely visible in the dim light. Hyun Ju was already moving before they could even fully enter, stepping between the intruder and you without hesitation. Her body was positioned between you two, blocking any potential harm from reaching you.

“Get back,” she muttered to the figure, voice colder now and laced with authority.

The intruder didn’t seem to flinch at all, but they hesitated for a moment. The silence was deafening. Then, with a quick movement, they lunged. Hyun Ju reacted instantly, sidestepping with a grace that was almost unnatural. In one fluid motion, she grabbed the attacker’s wrist, twisting it to make the intruder stumble, causing their body to crash onto the cold concrete floor.

You barely had time to register what had just happened. She was fast, faster than you could even process or react. The air around you felt charged, crackling with a dangerous energy. Hyun Ju was not only a shield, but also a force to be reckoned with.

She stood over the figure now, her eyes cold but focused. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” she said, her voice low, almost deadly.

The intruder groaned, but didn’t move, clearly having underestimated her.

You stood there, frozen. You had seen her handle fights before, but this was different. There was something almost predatory in the way she moved. Something that told you she would do whatever it took to keep you safe. Even if it meant crossing a line she didn’t want to.

But the thought didn’t last long. The figure, clearly realizing they were outmatched, scrambled to their feet, quickly backing off. With one final glare from her, they disappeared through the doorway, leaving you both in a tense silence.

Hyun Ju didn’t relax immediately. She was still poised, waiting for any sign that another threat might appear. You, however, couldn’t stop your heart from hammering in your chest. It wasn’t just the fight that had your blood pumping. It was the way she had acted, like your safety was the only thing that mattered to her.

She didn’t look at you yet, but you could see the tension in her shoulders slowly fading. It was as if the weight of the moment was only just starting to settle in.

"You alright?" she asked finally, her voice quiet, almost like she didn’t want to disturb the fragile silence that had fallen.

You nodded, though your throat was tight, unable to form any words at first. The reality of what had just happened hadn’t fully sunk in yet.

“Stay close,” she repeated, the calmness returning to her voice. “We need to keep moving.”

Her hand brushed your shoulder briefly, the contact so brief you almost thought you’d imagined it. But it was enough. Enough to remind you that, even in the chaos, she was there for you. The only thing constant in this maddening game.

Without waiting for a response, she turned, leading the way forward. You followed, still trying to steady your breath, but there was one thing you knew for certain. That was… with Hyun Ju by your side, you might just make it through this.

[its-time-to-write]

happy new year, ig

don’t hold me like you know me

“Remember when you broke up with me and suddenly my instagram feed was all about how you fucked a model?”

Jamie grimaces. “Do you have to bring that up every fucking time we’re together?”

“Yes,” you reply. “It’s funny to me. And it’s my revenge for you being stupid.”

“Pretty sure you and mum are the only two who find it funny,” he grumbles.

You snuggle closer to him. It’s cold outside, but you’re both bundled up and under two blankets. Plus there’s a fire going and sure, it’s warmer inside where your families are, but it’s quieter out here.

You say, “Nah, Simon thinks it’s hilarious too,” and Jamie groans. 

“I’m a fucking idiot, okay? I get it.”

Your mum looks out the window and you pretend like you don’t notice. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t be out here with him. But she’s the one whose friends with Georgie and she’s the one who made the plans to spend Christmas together knowing full well what you and Jamie had been up to for the past year.

So she can’t really say anything.

It’s stupid. 

It’s so, so stupid. You swore off situationships but apparently Jamie is the exception and you rationalize it by saying you know exactly what you’re doing so it’s fine.

It’s fine.

You’re only here a few days and then Jamie’s going back to training and you’re going back to work.

“Got any plans for the year?” you ask. Jamie shrugs and it moves you around.

“Nah, got some brand deal shit Keeley’s set up but mostly just keep training. Got the fuckin’ World Cup this summer, so…” he trails off.

What he doesn’t say is, so I’ll be near you. You let it hang in the air.

Instead he says, “What about you?”

You watch the flames from the fire curl into the sky. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot going on, I guess. Mostly work. And I’m moving to London in the fall.”

Jamie makes a noise. “Don’t read into it,” you warn before he can say anything. “It’s not for you.”

He sighs. “The fuck are we doing? Shouldn’t be this hard. We both fucking like each other. What if we tried again?”

You laugh. “Jamieee. Absolutely not. We barely made it out last time. I’m actually not sure we did, to be honest. And our mums would be fucking pissed if we messed it up again.”

He’s quiet at that. Too quiet.

“How’s Roy Kent?” you ask in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Hairy old prick,” Jamie mutters out of habit. “Wants us to fucking win the Prem and the Champions League, like we ain’t fuckin’ trying.”

You laugh. “I’m assuming he’s also thinking about the World Cup?”

Jamie groans. “Don’t fucking remind me. I want to win all that shit too, but Royo’s sadistic. Got us training extra. Beard isn’t any better, either. Always got his nose in some fucking book.”

He’s complaining, but you know he doesn’t mean it. He loves this shit. And you’re glad the team’s stable from Ted’s move back to America.

“Got you something,” he says after a few more minutes of silence. He gently pushes you off him so he can reach into his pocket. 

You take the box from his hand and open it. It’s surprising. You’d already finished opening gifts, nothing particularly extravagant, and you certainly hadn’t expected anything else from Jamie. And definitely not as direct as this.

“Jamie,” you breathe, “how did you know?”

He grins as you look up to meet his eyes. “Asked around,” he replies. “Knew you’ve been wanting that bracelet forever and you’re too fucking stubborn to get it for yourself, so.”

He motions for you to hand it back to him, and you do. He takes it out and you extend your wrist. He fastens it gently. “You’ve gotta do more shit for yourself, yeah? Promise me.”

“Maybe,” you whisper, and he gives you a look. “Fine. But Jamie-”

“Kid,” he sighs.

“Don’t call me kid,” you warn. “You’re younger than me.”

“That’s why it’s fucking hilarious.”

“Jamie,” you try again. “Do you actually want to keep doing this? We see each other at the most random, inopportune times then we… you know…” you trail off.

“Fuck,” he interjects and you smack his arm. 

Ow, he mouths.

“Look. You never date anyone. Everyone’s always speculating about it, and you never do. And I just wonder- I mean, I don’t want to presume but it seems like-”

“It is,” he says. “Can’t fucking be with someone else when I think about you all the time, can I?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Jamie Tartt. That is the stupidest line you’ve ever pulled.”

He’s already shaking his head before you’re done speaking. “Ain’t a line.”

Georgie looks through the window and smiles at the pair of you. It’s getting colder, and you’ll have to go inside soon, but you want to finish this conversation. You aren’t sure when you’ll have Jamie like this again.

“Why did you break up with me?”

He looks away at the fire, the sky, anything that isn’t your face. “Dunno.”

“Liar.”

He looks back. “You need someone better. I got scared. Same shit as always.”

You wrinkle your nose again. “That’s shit. Try again.”

Jamie toys with the bracelet on your wrist. You should slap him away, you should.

You don’t.

“I did get scared,” he says again. “Fucking… terrified. Been in love with you since I were eight and following you around, weren’t I? Everyone says shit like I don’t know what I’m doing, I fucking need to play the field or what fucking ever, and I guess I… listened. Then felt fucking guilty as shit.” 

Neither of you are crying. It’s not that type of conversation.

“So.”

“So,” he echoes.

“We’re getting married,” he comment when you don’t say anything more, and that makes you laugh.

You push yourself out of Jamie’s arms and head to the door. “That’s ridiculous of you to say. And I’m cold. I’m changing and then I’m going out, want to come? Luiza texted.”

Jamie looks at you, and you can tell he’s debating his options carefully.

“Sure,” he finally says, the words puffing out of his mouth into the freezing air. “Sure.”

[angellic4l]

la vita é bella - s.r

in which; sunshine!bau!reader and season2!spencer see a foreign film together after work.

content: fem!reader and season2!spencer, they’re so in loveee, fluffy fluff, mentions of drinking but no one actually does it, brief mention of spencer’s germaphobia, mention of the holocaust and ww2.

a/n: i wrote this all in one go bc my draft that i’m working on is so not ready, so i apologise if it’s bad. also, la vita é bella means life is beautiful, the Italian name of the film, which is why i called the fic that. WAIT I JUST READ IT AND I NEED TO SAY I DON’T THINK ELLE IS MEAN I LOVE ELLE! anyway, kisses!!

After a pretty rare, uneventful day at the BAU - just hours of paperwork, filing, reports, and a lot of team banter - the team of profilers begin to pack up. Coats are lifted from the backs of chairs, bags slung over shoulders, chairs put under desks, and a chorus of contented sighs coming from the agents.

The team, bar Hotch and Gideon, begin to make their way to the elevator together, walking in a huddle on their way out of work while making light conversation about their plans considering everyone’s getting out early today.

“I say we all go the bar, a few drinks, maybe some darts, and lots of fine women,” Morgan suggests with a smirk, patting Spencer on the back when he says ‘fine women’.

Elle and JJ laugh, the thought of Spencer trying to talk to ‘fine women’, as Morgan called them, an amusing thought to the two women.

Spencer, who’s walking in between you and Morgan, pushes his glasses up his nose with his middle finger, his face sporting one of his infamous looks you’ve come to know, his brows furrowed as he questions Elle and JJ’s laughter silently.

“Actually, I was going to go and see a foreign film downtown, if any of you want to come. It’s an Italian film, but I can whisper translate, called ‘Life is Beautiful’, which is kind of ironic because it’s about a Jewish man and his son becoming victims of the holocaust, but-“ Spencer’s cut off by a comment from Elle about him being ‘dorky’, his face loses the small smile he’d had while talking about the film, and his once gesturing hands fall to his sides.

You think your heart might’ve actually shattered at the sight, Spencer’s dejected look never becoming easier to see, no matter how many times you do see it. The other three agents agree to go to the bar together while you and Spencer remain silent, walking in step with each other.

“You coming, sunshine?” Morgan asks, looking past Spencer to gaze at your face, Elle and JJ turning their heads slightly to look at you stood behind them, all of you coming to a stop at the elevator doors.

“No, I think I just want to have a quiet night in. I hope you guys have fun, though,” you reject them, a small smile on your face because only you know what you’re actually going to do.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

All of you step out of the FBI building, JJ, Morgan, and Elle splitting off to head to the bar, Spencer walking through the parking lot and starting his journey to the metro station, while you wait for the other 3 to be gone.

It’s not because you’re embarrassed of Spencer, no, you wouldn’t have cared about offering in front of the others, but you knew he’d probably be teased for it, and that’s the last thing you want. He’s so sweet to everyone, unbelievably kind to you, but everyone teases him regardless. It hurts your heart every time he goes quiet after being told to ‘shut up’ or someone comments on his rambling.

Once you’re sure Morgan, JJ, nor Elle are in earshot, you hurry over to Spencer’s slender figure that’s slowly dissipating, emerging with the dark night sky to become nothing but a shadow as he gets further.

“Spence! Wait, come back!” You call out, quickly realising his long limbs are not match for you and he was getting further by the second.

Spencer stops almost immediately, spinning on his heels when he hears your voice. He could recognise it anywhere, your sweet, melodic voice engrained into his brain; it’s one of his favourite things about you, how each word you speak seems to be infused with honey, ringing out sweet and soft.

Although, even if your voice is sweet and soft, despite the fact that you’re shouting, adrenaline spikes in his body - Why are you shouting him? Are you hurt? Are you okay? - the questions plague his mind, increasing his heart rate faster than anything ever has before. That’s saying something, considering he sees dead bodies, crime scenes, and confronts serial killers almost weekly.

Spencer’s legs have carried himself over to you before he’d even processed it, his own mind had distracted him, thoughts had clouded his head, and he only realises he’s stood in front of you and that you’re okay when he hears your melodic voice again.

“Spence? Spencer? Are you okay?” You ask, brows furrowed ever so slightly and pink lips pouted to express your concern for the brunette boy.

You didn’t ask him to ‘snap out of it’, make a joke about him being stuck in his big brain, or say ‘are you even listening?’. No, you just asked if he was okay. Spencer smiles softly at that, another gentle reminder that you really are an angel personified, despite his agnostic beliefs, regardless of whether he prays to a God or not, you are angelic to him.

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay,” Spencer reassures you, the soft smile still on his face still there as he looks down at you. His brain catches up after he stops being dazed by your seemingly divine presence, in his opinion.

“You called me over, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Could I come and see that movie with you? I know some Italian and you said you’d whisper translate.”

Standing in the middle of Quantico’s parking lot, the pair of you clad in thick coats due to the recent spike in cold, your head tilted back so that you can look up at Spencer and his tilted down so that he can see you. You watch Spencer’s face go from a small smile to a full blown grin, his teeth peaking out from behind his pink lips making your heart warm in your chest, winter weather aside.

“Yeah? You’re serious?” Spencer asks, you nod.

“I’ll drive us there, no need for the metro. I’ll take you home, too,” you say, dangling your keys on your ring finger. The pair of you begin to walk to your car as Spencer explains what the movie is about, not being cut off this time.

In the car on the way there, he starts to talk about WW2, rattling off all of the details he knows about it, mainly ones he thinks will be relevant for context to the film. Smiles rest on both of your faces as he does so, his hands moving frenetically as he talks. When you know what he’s talking about, you’ll wait for him to finish before talking yourself, but mostly you just listen to him.

Spencer stays true to his word and whisper translates the film to you, his voice in your ear something you like much more than you probably should, close proximity between the two of you because of it. His head is tilted towards you, lips by your ear but not so close that all you hear is his breath, Spencer’s very mindful of that.

At some point, you both reach for the popcorn between you without looking, his hand coming to rest on top of yours in the bucket. Suddenly, you’re very thankful for the dark room hiding the pink tint of your cheeks, completely unaware that he’s thinking the same thing.

Retracting his hand from the bucket quickly, he whispers a small “sorry,” secretly hating the loss of contact with your smooth, silky skin, warm fingers, no longer under his.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, eyes never leaving the screen in front of you for fear of him seeing the blush that’s painted your cheeks. You reach into your bag and hand him a hand sanitiser, knowing how he is with germs.

Spencer can’t help but wonder if you carry this just for him as he takes the clear bottle from his hands, reading the label as best as he can in the dim theatre and learning the hand sanitiser smells like vanilla. So do you, he notes, and he decides he doesn’t mind his hands smelling like you, in fact, he actually quite likes it.

An hour into the film, despite your best efforts not to, you succumb to sleep, the sound of Spencer’s voice in your ear every few seconds, the dim room, and how warm you are all lulling you into the unconscious state you currently find yourself in. Well, Spencer finds you in that state when your head drops to his shoulder, looking down at you through his glasses, and realising you’d fallen asleep.

He blushes at the sight of your head on his shoulder, the weight of it grounding him and sending him to some extreme height at the same time, your hair splayed over his shoulder making him smile to himself. In this moment, he decides that, despite all of the horrors he sees daily, the trauma he was subjected to growing up, and everything else in between, life is beautiful.

[room-surprise]

All excellent points!

I want to add that Thistle doesn't need to have ever met other elves to know what a half-elf looks like. His parents may have told him while they were still alive (look out for half-elves, they're bad people, this is what they look like), and/or he may have read about half-elves in books.

It's also possible that however he was "acquired" by the royal court may have put him into contact with other elves and half-elves, if Thistle was being trafficked, it's likely the person selling him would have had other elves or half-elves that they were also trafficking.

Thistle may also have heard a lot of negative things about half-elves from the tall-men around him. A real elf is valuable, a half-elf is just a cheap imitation.

There's also a few other features Marcille has that sets her apart from full elves that I haven't seen mentioned:

She's taller and wider, with a heavier body than most elves. The average height of an elven woman is only 150cm, and the men are 155cm. Marcille is 160cm which makes her taller than most elven men.

She has green eyes, which don't seem to be the most common eye color (silver, gold, purple and blue all seem more common)

Her hair is a dark yellow-gold color. All elves seem to have light hair, and the majority of them have a much paler, and less saturated shade than Marcille.

Her chin and cheeks are rounder and fuller than other elves.

We've never actually seen an elf that is ethnically from the Eastern hemisphere (Northern, Eastern or Southern continents) so we don't know if they look different from elves of the West. Logically they should, but it's possible that all elves are descendants of Western elves and thus share ethnic traits. Kui does not make this explicitly clear.

This is, incidentally, also the case with dwarves and gnomes. We don't know if they look and live differently in the Western hemisphere, or if they're just the descendants of colonists from the East that have moved West.

Also, this may seem obvious but I think is worth mentioning:

Thistle and the Canaries don't know that Marcille is a half-elf. They aren't able to magically look at her and know with 100% certainty that she's a half-elf.

They are racially profiling her based on her appearance.

They assume she is a half-elf because of how she looks... and part of the reason for the discrepancy of how they treat her is because saying she "looks like a half-elf" would be an insult, because being a half-elf is an insult.

Thistle doesn't care that he's insulting her (and in fact, wants to insult her), so he just says it outright with no hesitation.

The Canary group is a little bit more complicated:

Mithrun is suspicious that Marcille is a half-elf because of her appearance. She claims to be a court mage, which, if she is a half-elf, would be impossible. He doesn't want to insult her by directly saying he doesn't believe her in case he's wrong, so he leads her into a conversation where she proves that she's lying about her status.

The rest of the team all suspect she's a half elf, and weren't saying anything because they were waiting to see what Mithrun would do, since Marcille claimed to be a very high status person.

Pattadol doesn't realize Marcille is a half-elf. This may either be because Pattadol is so young and innocent that she isn't aware of the stereotypes around half-elves, or that she's too polite and kind to assume someone is a half-elf just because of how they look. Remember, saying someone is a half-elf is more or less the same as saying they're ugly or that they're a bad person.

It should be noted that Pattadol might also not think Marcille is a half-elf because Pattadol looks a lot like Marcille. She has darker hair than a lot of other elves, she's taller, her body is thicker, and she has a big nose. Pattadol knows that she isn't a half-elf, so why wouldn't she give Marcille a benefit of a doubt, and assume she's a full elf?

(I would not be surprised at all if Kui someday told us that Pattadol gets teased and accused of being a 'half elf' as an insult.)

I have to wonder, how did thistle know marcille was a half-elf? Like. I don't think he's really seen that many elves, right?

No but apparently to other elves the fact she's a half-elf is pretty obvious, even if Thistle hasn't seen many other elves Marcille has rounded ears and round eyes, which is pretty unusual for elves as you can see by the race portraits. I imagine just from the ears it would be super obvious to him? Or even maybe just the fact that she looks so different from him would make he think that

And he's a studied guy, since he knew about how half-elves work he has probably studied about elves at some point? Or heard about elves from tallmen, there's an extra where Delgal is reading about elf cake with Thistle, maybe it has happened about other elf subjects too

And Thistle also has some elf preferences like how he keeps his hair long and "feminine" different from the male tallmen in the golden kingdom, so I can only guess he does know about how elves are supposed to be to some extent? (I would assume it was influence from the tallmen around him wanting to keep him more 'elf-like' but he had long hair when he arrived that was then cut short)

Anyway, idk, I can only make assumptions

[multiheadcanons]

MEMES AND TRAITS THE MERCS STOLE FROM SCOUT AND POORLY USE TO PISS HIM OFF

soldier: soldier started calling everything a “glizzy” after he heard scout say it exactly once. he was eating a hot dog and said “damn this glizzy is perfectly dressed.” he did not get it, he did not care enough to ask what that meant. he just started calling everything a glizzy. rockets? glizzy. ammo? glizzy. the medigun, fully charged and primed for an ubercharge? “HIT ME WITH THAT GLIZZY, DOC!” this was the beginning of the end with scout, once he got past the white knuckled shock of hearing that man say glizzy way too many times to the wrong things.

pyro: pyro eats up a whip and nae nae, no lie. they saw scout do it after a successful push of the payload, and everyone looked at scout weird, but pyro registered that smile, and those movements and committed it to heart. on the next battle, pyro physically dragged scout to a location near the edge of the map, and made a motion to stay still and watch. it freaked scout out until pyro air blasted one, two, three, four of the opposing team off the map; and after the fourth’s screams were cut short from hitting the bottom; they turned slowly to scout, and hit a whip. it’s the only time scout actually laughed. “yeah, get that shit pyro!”

demo: everything scout knows demo knew well before him, it just never came through right with his accent. but when scout started dapping people up demo was ALL IN for that. always brings scout in way too hard and knocks the wind out of him and stings his hands. “you’re not doing it right, lad! like this!” scout never wants to complain because it feels cool to get dapped up by someone he also thinks is cool, though he doesn’t want to admit that. scout does not want demo dapping up anyone else though because they’re not cool enough, except heavy he’s got no opinion on that because it’s funny to watch demo get the wind knocked out of him.

engineer: engineer hits that “gyat DAMN” often because of his accent. scout is convinced he’s using it wrong, that pisses engie off because it’s literally his accent and scout can get the fuck over himself he’s not from the first generation that made up language. sometimes to piss him off he’ll say skibidi toilet with no actual context to go around it. and scout hates that bc he hates skibidi toilet. also an enjoyer of the dap even when heavy and demo practically lift him off his feet with it.

heavy: heavy will dap people up. he loves it. makes him feel like he’s getting closer with his team. will always end a dap by pulling them in for a brief, yet crushing hug. everyone eats it up, laughing after they catch the breath he forcibly removed from their lungs and patting his arm or back, whatever the recipient can reach. also loves to say rizz, it makes his teeth vibrate in a good way. “doctor, you are a rizz master!” “demoman, keep rizzing your weapons!” “i LOVE my weapons rizz!” he doesn’t know if he’s using it right, scout just wholeheartedly assures him he’s using it right.

medic: medic heard scout say something fucks once. now, for him, EVERYTHING fucks. he himself DEFINITELY fucks. he assumed it’s a good thing. there was one time in the throes of battle, he managed to catch scout to heal him, and used the speed boost he got from it to catch up and yell over the din “you’re FUCKING today, scout!” and scout jumped his ass about how he’s not even using it right and he never wanted to hear that again. unfortunately, the doctor is a hellish bastard who loves pissing people off, so now everything does indeed fuck. he definitely fucks. “oh, my medigun? ja, that fucks. and i fuck too.” “doc, nobody wants to hear what you’re fucking, dude”. pissed scout off more when he and soldier were ubered, running into battle, and soldier said very confidently “your glizzy tops ALL OTHER GLIZZIES” and medic responded, making direct eye contact with scout in the heat of battle; “ja, my glizzy fucks.”

sniper: snipes dabbed twice in the privacy of his own nest to see how it felt and couldn’t get over his own shame that he did that. he did it twice because he alternated arms to see if it felt less stupid to do it the other way. it didn’t. he will never bring himself to do that again. that was embarrassing. has a dreadful feeling the other teams sniper saw him do it. sometimes after a really good kill streak he’ll do a small dab as a treat. he does unironically use “deadass”

spy: anything that will piss scout off spy is happy to do. spy has used words he knows does not exist to confuse scout as to the current slang going around. he’ll have scout on the internet desperately searching words that not only don’t exist, but he can’t even spell, just to make sure spy isn’t a step ahead of him. but spy is always two steps ahead of him. spy will say shit just to feel the bostonians eyes burn holes in the back of his skull, only to turn to him and say “what, you’ve never heard that before? look it up!” then hides in his room to watch him desperately search a word he can’t even spell. unironically uses “deadass” because he heard snipes say it once and it wriggled its way into his mind like a worm. he says it after like… everything.