#anyways hope you enjoy this i made it with lots of love

[yurunivo]

Hello! I really love you self aware idea! Can you please make another part? This time Can you focuse more on Mavuika and the Creator!Reader (Gender Neutral),please? (Also om how the other archons and Neuvillete would be trying to search for the reader and maybe using other organizations to help the search) if not please feel free to ignore this. Have a wonderful day!

This is my first time getting a request! Hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: hanging out with Mavuika! (And the other nations' planning to reach you) part 1

TW: Mavuika and reader's relationship is implied romantic but can be read as platonic, OOC, yandere, SAGAU imposter au, bad writing, bad grammar, english is not my first language, not beta read

Characters: Mavuika x gn!creator!reader (again can be seen as romantic or platonic), yandere Archons + Neuvillette x reader

Cleaning at bars was a tedious job. It was easy, sure, but it got boring at times. Customers always made the day fun with their gossip, so you leaned into that. It could've been something simple, like how their boyfriend cheated on them, but it was still more entertaining than mopping the floor.

However, there was always one customer every night that you were looking forward to meeting.

Always clad in a mysterious cloak that made them look like a runaway, blazing bright eyes and red hair.

It was Mavuika.

She came a bit later than usual. You decided not to worry, Archon duties are a lot after all. Yet, she came anyway, dressed the same as before. The cloak was a bit messily put on, so her hair was still visible. You sighed as you left the place you were cleaning and went up in front of her.

"You didn't have to come y'know," you fixed her cloak to hide her hair, yet she only smiled at you.

"I insist," she only replied back. You rubbed your temples at the stubborn woman. Seriously, shouldn't she be busy with work or something?

She seemed to be eager to tell you something, considering how she was holding your hand. You raised an eyebrow at her as you gestured her to speak.

"Well, want to combat practice with me later, (fake name)?" Oh no. You didn't know how to fight! Sure, you did fight against the abyss, but you barely managed to survive!

But you only nodded. Declining now would only make her suspicious, even though the fact that you were being chased around without fighting back was suspicious enough. But, you'll find out a reason later, for now, all you had to do was agree.

"Sure, but only at my day off. Maybe the day after tomorrow?" You were trying to find a lie to tell her then, but for now, you hid your feelings with a smile. She nodded, looking content with your answer.

"The day after tomorrow it is."

Your hands were uncomfortably sweaty.

The day after tomorrow being right now, you had to tell Mavuika as quick as you could to not gain suspicion. Telling her you got isekai'd from another world was obviously not an option, but you had already prepared something in your head. It was similar to the isekai idea, but it's much more believable. The execution was the only problem.

You were at the outskirts of the Scions of Canopy, where Kinich lived. She came 5 minutes later and greeted you with much courtesy.

"Hope I didn't make you wait for long (fake name)," she told with a bit embarrassment. You shrugged her off.

"It's fine Mavuika, and you can just call me (name)," you replied back. You mustered up the courage to tell her your reason not to fight. But before that, you had to ask her just this one thing.

"How did you know that I was the creator? I don't think there was any part of me that stood out," you were interested to know, after all you thought that you hid yourself very well.

She all but smiled as she pointed out the grass behind you.

"The creator is connected to Teyvat, so everything would bloom in their wake. Since you were in the nation of Pyro, where I'll know everything that's going on, it was quite easy to find out." You looked behind to see beautiful flowers right behind you. You were shocked to see this many flowers in one trail. Wait, then why did the other Archons not realize that you were the creator? Eh that doesn't really matter, what matters was that you were here with Mavuika, safe and sound. But, you took this revelation to gift her something.

You took a flower from the trail. Mavuika was interested to see what you were doing, but you hid it from her. Using the flowers and leaves, you created a flower crown for her and put it a top her head. You smiled, she did too.

"Thank you (name)," she laughed softly. But now you had to explain the fighting part. You sighed as you contemplated.

"Err, Mavuika, I actually don't know how to fight.." You mumbled and cursed your self for it. She looked surprised.

"Why not?" She asked again. You felt embarrassed for having to say the reason. You took a deep breath and prepares to say why.

"I'm.. Not the creator. Like the original one. I'm a reincarnation of them, I have no idea how to fight not do I know anything about the past," you breathed out, cringing at what you just said. However all she did was look at you with understanding, after all, she knows the pain of reincarnation.

"It's fine! But do you know anything about the previous creator then?" She asked curiously, to which you shook your head. She hummed. She got an idea to improvise, it seems like.

"How about I teach you then?" Huh?! This wasn't going as planned! You didn't want to fight at all.

"T-that's not needed, I'll j-just waste your time," you tried convincing her, but she didn't budge. Eventually though, you reluctantly agreed. She smiled and thanked you for allowing her to help.

"Just try to imagine yourself using Pyro abilities, you'll get the hang of it later." You were really trying. The amount of stress that you had to not burn yourself to death was enough to actually kill you. Still, you trusted Mavuika and her abilities, so you tried anyway. You tried and tried and tried, but nothing really came. You were visibly disappointed, but Mavuika tried to encourage you.

"How about this, you imagine something you don't like, and try to use your emotions to drag your Pyro ability out," she suggested. You seemed to find this useful, so you tried it.

Closing your eyes, you thought of something terrible happening, and instead of seeing the imposter hunt that you very despised, you instead saw Mavuika.

You were being hunted down, sure, but what was most important was that she was getting punished by the Archons for not giving up the imposter. Her face was battered and bruised, and she was slowly slipping into unconsciousness. You watched in horror, and tears started to well up in your eyes. This couldn't be! Unfortunately, you were crying in real life too, and Mavuika realized immediately.

"Okay, uhh, you don't need to think about it now," she tried comforting you, bringing you in an embrace to calm you down. Once you came back to reality, your eyes were puffy, and your face was red.

"... Sorry, can we do this another time?" You sniffled, still holding her. She was warm, and you found your self drifting to sleep. She sighed as she picked you up.

"Of course, just don't overdo anything, kay?" She smiled warmly, brushing the tears from your eyes. She wrapped you in a cloak, getting ready to start camp.

Neuvillette contorted his face in disgust. The waters tasted disgustingly sweet. The creator's happiness with another person, likely an Archon. But the waters then tasted bitter, from the creator's sadness.

If only he could just drag you out of that place and keep you for himself, but no. He'll need the help of the other nations to do so, so he sucked it up and left the Palais Mermonia. He visited Furina, just checking in on her before leaving. He'd leave some of the work for Clorinde to do, he trusted her enough to do that anyway.

Reaching the imposter's throne room, there was a long sitting area where the rulers of the nations were there. Only the Cryo, Pyro and Anemo Archons weren't there, but the acting grandmaster came for Anemo, and the director of the Fatui Harbingers came for Cryo. The Geo Archon returned to his status as the God of Contracts, and the Electro and Dendro archon were sitting in their own seats. The imposter was on the creator's throne. They were dead, blood seeping out of their head. Their expression was one of shock, as he could vividly remember the day the Geo Archon killed the imposter.

A seat was vacant. He clenched his teeth at the mere thought of the Pyro Archon. He'd get you back from her, no matter what it took.

"We all know that the creator is in the nation of war, Natlan. However, since the neither of us know its weaknesses besides the Pyro Archon being a human, we need to create a plan to ambush the nation," Jean spoke up. Everyone in the room nodded along with her, too obsessed to notice their wrong doings. However, there was one who objected to this clause.

Nahida raised her hand to interrupt Jean, turning all eyes on her.

"You all chased down the creator like a rabid dog, and now you're trying to kidnap them to do a job that they don't want? What kind of leaders are you? The creator was in Natlan for a few months by now, and since they're not leaving, they are probably enjoying a better life there than your own selfish desires," she objected.

Neuvillette all but admired the young Archon. Despite being small and weaker than the others, she still had the bravery to stand against everyone. However, this was one thing that he didn't agree with. He just stayed quiet though, waiting for someone to object the small Archon.

Raiden did. The God of Eternity looked at Nahida with disdain, preparing to answer the deity.

"And how are you so sure that the creator is having a better life in Natlan Buer? For all we could know, they could actually be running around the vast nation. And, you are one of the younger Archons after all, what use does your words have?" She asked coldly. When she was about to respond back, she got interrupted.

"It is settled, we shall find the creator in Natlan, no questions," the God of Contracts added in. Nahida couldn't speak now. After all, what power does she have to a much more experienced God?

Neuvillete glared at the Archons.

"Whoever shall get the creator first will be the one to solely have the creator in their nation," Neuvillete furrowed his brows at the Archons. They did the same, but still agreed to the conditions, not really thinking of what you want.

Now, all the leaders were going back to their nation, telling their line of military to get prepared. They had to have you all for yourself, and they will do anything for it.

Done! Hope you enjoy!

[jogetsobsessed]

Dominos (Part 2 of The Prophecy) - Paul Lahote x reader

Could technically be read as a stand-alone!

I'm so sorry for the long wait for this, I simply could not figure out what I wanted to do. Also, the two OC characters are simply random and are just there as space fillers (but I did choose the name Evan from 911 #wewillgetbuddie). P.S. This has a lot of dialogue and I don't know how to properly write dialogue so oopsie.

My present to all of you for hitting 200 followers!!

Always enjoy, I hope this lived up to all your expectations!

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It hurt for a long time.

It felt like you were drowning and that you were never going to be able to surface. Life was moving in slow motion, as you grappled with the sudden change in your life. 

You lost everything. 

Everything important to you was gone. Your friends, your support system, the man who you loved. People tried to reach out at first. Emily and Kim called you every day for weeks, but after a while, the calls stopped coming. Embry and Quil both texted you, checking to see how you were doing and if they could help anyway, but like the calls you ignored the texts. 

You felt pathetic. 

They all felt bad for you and you know it. They knew how in love you were with Paul and they were all witnesses to the tragic ending. And you hated it. 

Hated how people would look at you. You felt that you couldn't go anywhere without someone looking at you with sympathy in their eyes. And you could only take that for so long. 

So after months of hiding in your bedroom and wallowing in your despair, you decided to make a change. You were going to do something for yourself. Something that was going to be hard, one of the hardest decisions you had ever had to make. 

You found an apartment 250 miles away. Growing up you had made the almost five-hour car ride to Portland, Oregon a couple times a year, so you knew that you liked the city well enough. It was a massive change, going from small-town living to city life. But it's what you need. Being somewhere where no one knew you, where no one knew about the unnatural life that the people of the tribe lived. It was your chance to live a normal life. 

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

Normal life suited you well. 

The move had been hard at first, you left behind your parents and the few friends outside of the pack that had still been in contact with. It took a while for you to start feeling like yourself again. But that's because you didn't know who you were without Paul. Moving to Portland was a chance for you to find who you were. 

Six months after you moved you experienced your very own meet cute. 

It happened at work, you had blindly reached out to hit the button for the elevator when your hand met someone else's. Quickly your phone was away from your face and you looked up and swore you almost swooned.  

His name was Evan. 

The company he worked for had just opened up a Portland office and was renting space on the third floor. You told him you worked on the seventeenth floor when he had asked and watched the number seventeen light up. Immediately he started a conversation. It was small talk, you told him that you also had not been in Portland long and chose the simple way out by saying that a long-term relationship ended so you wanted a fresh start. 

It hadn't occurred to you that he never got off on the third floor. 

He rode up to the seventeenth floor just to talk to you. And once the elevator stopped and the doors started to open he asked you out. He insisted that he needed a tour guide to find the best ramen that Portland had to offer. 

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5 years later 

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“And after that the rest is history”, you laughed as you felt Evans's arm slightly squeeze your waist in affection. 

You wouldn't believe where you were, back home in Forks. You had managed to avoid it since you left because your parents moved down to just outside of Portland after they realized that your move was permanent. 

Your engagement to Evan had come just over a year after you met him. After swearing up and down that after Paul you were never going to let yourself love someone again you found yourself drowning in the love that you had for Evan. And when he got down on one knee you didn't even let him finish what he was saying before you were throwing yourself in his arms shouting ‘yes’. 

But your parents hadn't moved down until you Facetimed them a year after your wedding holding up ultrasound photos. They screamed and cried tears of joy, they were going to get to be grandparents. You hadn't told them everything that had happened with Paul but they knew enough. They knew that he had broken your heart and now saw how your husband was putting it back together piece by piece. They saw how happy you were. 

And you are happy. 

You were getting everything that you wanted, everything that he had promised you. 

Marriage, a big house with a white picket fence, and children.

That’s why when you received an invite to Emily and Sam’s wedding you gladly accepted. There was no reason for you not to go, you learned a long time ago that letting the thought of Paul control your life was no way to live. If after all these years Emily still sent you an invite obviously she wanted you here. 

So here you were, standing with Jared, Kim, Embry, and his imprint Ava. Kim had just about burst into tears when she saw you sitting with Evan and your son in the back of the ceremony. She was standing beside Emily at the altar and you could have sworn she almost ran back down the aisle to scoop you in her arms. And that's what she did as soon as Sam and Emily were announced as Mr and Mrs Uley. 

There was so much catching up to do, that was evident. Five years of not talking to one of your best friends, especially at the stage of life all of you were in. You could see it in all of their eyes when you introduced Evan to them that they approved, it was almost a look of relief like they were glad that you had been able to move on after everything that had happened. You had both apologized for not inviting each other to your weddings but that could be forgiven. Especially when you both realize that you had young sons. Her and Jared’s son is three and your son is almost two. 

The two of them quickly got along and were off playing in the designated kid's area of the field where the reception was being held. You were having so much fun laughing with old friends and introducing your husband to everyone that you almost didn't catch the moment she walked by. 

Rachel Black had her arm hooked through the extended arm of some man, one that you recognized but didn't know quite where from. All you knew was that it wasn't him. 

Embry was the first to clock your glance. He followed your gaze and quickly noticed who you were looking at.

“Who the hell is that?” 

You had cut Jared off in the middle of his story about getting thrown out of the Mariners game and saw his eyes bug out of his head when he followed your gaze. She moved carefree throughout the wedding, stopping to say hi to people here and there as she and her mystery man made their way to a table near where her father was talking to Chief Swan. 

“Her fiance”, Kim mumbled over the rim of her champagne glass. 

“What!”, you were definitely louder than you had meant to be, guests nearby turning to look at you and your friends. Sheepishly you gaze at them all, a smile wincing at the sudden onset of attention. 

“It’s a long story Y/N”, Embry said pleadingly. He did not want to get into this right now, you know he didn't. However, there is absolutely no way for you to let this go. 

The woman who had unintentionally wrecked your relationship was now hanging off the arm of another man. And now you were wondering if that's why you hadn't seen the said man at all tonight. As far as you know he’s still one of Sam’s best friends, not that you cared to double-check. 

One look from you Embry’s way was enough for him to huff and motion to an empty table a little further away from the impromptu dance floor. Pulling your husband behind you, you marched your way over plopping down on one of the empty chairs. 

“I’m gonna go check on our boy”, Evan said, emphasizing the word as he kissed the top of your head and started to cross the field. You knew what he was doing, he was making everything easier. You were sure that your old friends had assumed that you had let Evan in on the pack's secret (which you had after you had gotten engaged). But you figured that he thought they would want to talk as freely if he was around. That's why you love him so much, he knew how to read a room and understood the special circumstances surrounding your past relationship and the baggage that followed you because of it. 

After everyone else had made it back to the table, barring Ava who had gotten swept into a conversation with Leah and her mom, you shot them all looking waiting to see who was going to start. 

“They got married…six months after you moved” 

This information was shocking, I mean Paul had always been one to move fast, but six months? 

“And everything was okay for a while. They seemed like they were really in love”, you flinched at Jared's words and Kim, noticing your actions, slapped her husband's chest with the back of her hand, rolling her eyes at his carelessness. Jared however wasn't phased and kept going. 

“And then the fighting started. It was small things at first, we would see them bicker when walking up the steps at Em’s, or when Paul phased we could hear him replaying their argument over what to have for dinner the night before”. 

He paused, taking in a deep breath, resting his hand on top of Kim’s where she had it laid on the table in front of her. Lucky for him Embry decided to take pity on his brother and cut in. 

“Y/N things got bad. Paul and Rachel both have very strong ummm…personalities”. He chuckled nervously as he bit his lip. You knew this made him uncomfortable and part of you felt bad for making him tell you all of this but you needed to know. You needed to know for the sake of knowing, it's not like anything in your life was gonna change because of it. Happiness had finally found you, and part of you felt bad that Paul’s had only been temporary, even though he had shamed your heart. 

“The small fights turned into screaming matches, and they weren't always private. And umm at some point the screaming escalated to the two of them breaking things. Rachel would throw glasses and beer bottles and such and Paul broke one too many kitchen chairs for them to keep replacing them”. 

“Eventually we had to step in, I mean the boys had to physically step in Y/N”, Kim cut in, the look in her eyes telling you that she was reliving the drama. “Sam, Jared, and Embry let themselves into Paul and Rachel's place one day when he was home and she wasn't and they had to drag him kicking and screaming out of there practically”. 

“It's not like he was abusive, it 's just that they are both so damn toxic”. Jared chuckled as he struggled to describe what it was like watching their relationship from start to finish. 

The three of them filled you in on specific instances of when the crazy started to show, while also reiterating how sorry they felt for how they handled everything that night years ago. 

“So where is he now?”, you blurted out. The wine finally made your head feel a little fuzzy and your filter started to thin. This question caught them off guard, the three of them exchanging awkward glances back and forth. 

“I don't know, none of us do. He was supposed to be here but since last night it's been radio silence. No one has heard a word from him”, Embry said. 

----------

You felt like you were being watched. 

After finishing your conversation with your friends the four of you walked over to where the kids were running around. Evan and Ava had been making small talk as they gave the four of you space. 

And now as you watched your friends interact with your son and husband you were trying to have a good time and appreciate the moment. 

But you couldn't, because someone was watching your every movement. 

You tried to brush it off, but the longer the night went on you could still sense it. Trying your best to act nonchalant you looked at the outskirts of the field and just beyond the tree line. You didn't want to worry anyone, especially your husband. Evan was having such a good time, he and the boys got along well and you knew that as soon as you got back home he was gonna start bugging you to come back up here. 

You were scanning the tree line again when you saw something or someone. And as you squinted to get a better look your heart stopped beating. 

Paul. 

He was hidden (not very well) in the trees, just past the makeshift dance floor. He looked disheveled, his pants and partially unbuttoned white shirt were wrinkled and slightly dirty, no doubt from spending the entire night stalking from the trees. 

He looks different from the last time you saw him, he looks…older maybe? No longer clean-shaven, some scruff was clear even from where you stood. Lines and marks litter his face and his eyes. Oh, his eyes look so tired. 

His body stiffened when the two of you made eye contact and he realized that he had been caught. But he didn't skitter away like a scared animal when you excused yourself from your group, promising your husband that this should only take a minute. 

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

You couldn't believe it, here you were face to face with the man who you swore up and down that if you ever saw again you would kill. But here you were, face to face with him and you couldn't even think of anything to say. 

Because the thing is you weren't mad at him anymore.

No, you felt bad for him. 

You had everything and he had nothing. 

He looked like a scared little boy as he stood before you messing with his fingers, something you remember him doing to try and relax. Gone was the macho-man personality. He looked embarrassed. 

“Hi”, his voice was shy, even more unlike him than acting embarrassed. 

“What do you want Paul?” he startled at your tone but you didn't care. You weren't going to give him the time of day. This conversation was not between two old friends catching up after now seeing each other for a few years. No, you were having this conversation out of necessity and necessity only. 

“I just wanna talk, it's been a while”. 

“Yeah I know, last time we talked you dumped me over text and when I went to try and talk to you about it hours later you didn't even look phased. Already cuddled up to your imprint”, you made sure to lace your words with venom, you wanted to make it hurt. Make him relive his actions and decisions. 

His nostrils flared at your last word. He hated being reminded of her, of that bond that they still shared. The stupid bond that had ruined his life. The same bond he thought had ruined your life. But seeing you here, walking hand in hand with a man, a small child in your arms he realized he had been wrong. 

The only thing that had gotten Paul through all his fights with Rachel and all the time he spent alone after was the thought of you. How after he worked through everything he could get you back. Paul knew how devastated you had been. He had never told anyone but he knew you were there that day at Emily’s. He knew you had started up the porch and decided to put his arm around Rachel, to send you a message. 

In some sick way, that thought of you being alone and missing him got him through the darkness. But now he realized that he had been wrong. 

You hadn't spent the past five years moping around and waiting for him to confess his love for you. The love for you which almost killed him. He had tried to shove it down, he had been blessed with an imprint, and he should be happy. 

But that wasn't the case. 

He hated himself for it, dragging Rachel into the mess that was his life. Because she wanted him to love her, she wanted a happy marriage and a long life with Paul. And that's what Paul thought he wanted. The bond did make Paul feel for Rachel, he wanted to protect and keep her safe. He didn't want to see her sad. But those feelings didn't stop his love for you. 

You had become the center of their marital problems. 

Hundreds of miles away, completely moved on and completely oblivious to the stake that you held in their relationship. 

Rachel learned very quickly that she wasn't the only woman Paul loved. And she had tried to live with it for a while. Growing up she had learned how special it was to be an imprint for one of the shifters. It was devastating to realize that she would never get that from Paul. 

And after a while of trying to make it work and a little intervention from their friends, they called it quits. She had moved on, meeting someone who truly loved her and could put her first. 

Paul however hadn't. 

“I’m sorry about that Y/N. I just wanna…” 

“You wanna what Paul? I’m not playing these games, it's late and I don't wanna spend the rest of the night arguing with you, because guess what we have nothing to argue about anymore because we are nothing”

“Don't say that Y/N”

“Don't say what Paul said? Don't say that we are nothing, are you crazy? Like generally have you lost your damn mind?” 

“Y/N I love you and I know you still have to feel the same, I know how upset you were after we broke up”, his voice cracked as he pleaded with you. And you couldn't help but laugh. 

“We didn't break up Paul, you dumped me…over text. Five years ago might I add, and you really must have lost it. I’m fucking married Paul, I have a child with a man that I love, someone who isn't like you, he isn't a coward”. 

“No, no don't say Y/N, please”, he was begging now. Full-on begging. 

“Paul I have nothing to say to you because I’m not going to say anything that you wanna hear. I don't love you”. 

Time seemed to stop at your admission. 

The forest seemed to be still, the soft breeze dying down and the rusting of the animal inhabitants went silent. And the light from Paul's very sad eyes seemed to dim even more if that was even possible. He truly had spent all this time that you still loved him and believed that the two of you could happen again. 

What happened next was something you could have never predicted, not after knowing Paul for as long as you had. 

He dropped to his knees, blubbering like an infant and pleading with you. 

“Y/N please, we can make this work I know we can. Just give me one more chance, I still love you”. 

He was making a scene. People were starting to notice the distressed man at your feet as he sobbed into his hands pleading with you to come back to him. Luckily Jared noticed the mumbling of some people near him and immediately saw what was happening. 

“Shit”, he muttered under his breath as he grabbed a fistful of Embry’s suit jacket to pull him with him as they took off jogging trying to act nonchalant. This was still their friend's wedding and there was no chance they would let Paul and his inability to get a hold of his emotions ruin it. 

The rest of the pack spotted the incident and quickly jumped into action. Sam had noticed what was happening and was putting all his trust in his friends to handle it, the last thing he wanted for Emily’s day to be ruined. 

“Come on buddy, I think you need to calm down”, Jared told Paul as Jacob helped him pull Paul off the ground. Paul was still breaking down, it was like the floodgates had broken. Every emotion that he had buried for so long was just pouring out of him. It was hard for the pack to watch as one of their own, someone who was normally so stoic and cocky completely broke. 

“No, stop, I'm not going anywhere. She’s not listening”, he protested, trying to shove off the various sets of hands trying to control him.

“I think she's listening perfectly fine Paul, I mean come on man, she has a husband. This isn't new news”. Seth said from his spot next to you, his body slightly angled in front of yours, ready to defend if Paul lost control and shifted. 

“But I still love her”, he wailed. The boys were shoving him back now, deeper into the forest, for the sake of the wedding but also partially for his dignity. 

And that was the last you saw of him, getting half-carried, thrashing around like an angry toddler sobbing as he disappeared into the woods. 

Once he was gone you couldn't hold it in anymore. It was your turn to sob. 

Even after all the pain and suffering he had put you through you hadn't wanted to hurt him like that. Seeing someone usually so strong shatter and at your words devastated you. 

You don't know how long you stood there before Kim darted in front of you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. 

It's confusing, you didn't know why you were crying. You had no reason to feel bad after what he had done to you and everything you had said was true, after everything he had done even if you weren't happily married you wouldn't get back with him. However, you felt so guilty, like you had been the one to ruin his life, even though Paul had made his decision. 

Paul had been the one to knock down the first domino and start the chain reaction. He had made his bed and now he has to lie in it. 

However, while you knew all this to be true you couldn't help but call out to him, you knew he was listening, wherever they had carried him to. 

“I’m sorry Paul, I’m so sorry”. 

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blobsblobican (you asked to be tagged in part 2!)

[giveafike]

ben shelton taking you on a date after flirting for months on atp/wta tour 😋

TLDR: Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton flirting on tour until Ben acc gets a grip and asks reader out.

Word count + info: 5.1k! A LONG one but I just do not know how to stfu!! Dialogue (including comments, texts, phone calls - lots of flirting and teasing). Mentions of Carlos Alcaraz too (couldn't resist) alongisde Frances Tiafoe and Taylor Fritz.

Character Inspo: She's cheeky n playful (was listening to Promiscuous Girl - Nelly Furtado & 5 Star Hotel - Raye as I was writing this amongst many other similar songs so.... yea...behaviour like Sabrina Carpenter - yk just... fun! I didn't write any specifications but in my head I was envisioning Tyla so! But put whoever you want to cast ;)

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW, this is sooo cute. There is a little naughty tsk tsk suggestive scene (CAR SCENE - feel free to skip) bit but nothing NSFW, teasing, playful relationship, little jabs here n there, hope its making ur feet kick! I hope it's funny too, like it makes u smile bc I had sm fun writing this !

Azzie Notes ✚: I literally gasped and giggled when I saw this prompt - I can't!!! SO, so, soooo cute I loved this prompt anon pls keep sending me more, you have this writer wrapped around your finger now. I love the idea of Ben with a WTA player, such a cute and fun dynamic!! Anyways, hope you all enjoy ;)

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Game, Set, Match - B.T.S

You stood on the court, the crowd's roar fading into a distant hum as you focused on the match ahead. A small smile played on your lips, and your eyes narrowed in determination. The bright sun overhead felt like a spotlight, buzzing on your skin, illuminating your every move and sharpening each muscle in your body. You were a force to be reckoned with — both polarising and captivating, your quick wit and cheeky banter stirred strong opinions. With a playful shrug and a blown kiss to the crowd, you dismissed the critics, your confidence as effortless as your serves.

Years of competing in Junior Opens had forged your resilience, and now you have been stepping into the world of professional tennis, where the stakes were higher and opponents fiercer. You had navigated this transition well over the past few years, finding your rhythm amidst the pressure, your footing steady on the path to greatness. The attention came quick too, especially with names like Nike wanting you to be an ambassador, and all sorts of products wanting you to be the face of the company, from protein powders to headphones - it was endless. The taste of victory was sweet and addictive, each match bringing you closer to the big prizes and recognition you had longed for. But just when you thought you had everything figured out, a whisper of uncertainty began to tug at the edges of your focus... not a what, but more a who?

In the past year and a half, life on tour has shifted for you in a whole different gear. Don't get it twisted, tennis remained top priority, but there was an undeniable spark that made the grind far more enjoyable and unpredictable, and that spark was no other than Ben Shelton. You first noticed him from afar, where casual nods turned into lingering glances that made the hair on your skin stand. With his raw power, boyish grin, and confidence that radiated from him, "Big Ben" was impossible to ignore. But it was during the Australian Open earlier this year that things between you really began to heat up.

Ben was anything but subtle. Once he set his sights on you, his flirting was relentless. You couldn’t help but feel flattered; it was hard not to get hooked to that buzz. After all, it wasn’t every day that a guy like him, full of charm and a teasing smile paid you so much attention. Others had thrown glances your way and offered compliments, but Ben? He stepped up his game like no one else.

Your first interaction was at a practice session where Ben sat by in the empty stands, right up by the court, arms folded and a smirk on his face. You could feel his gaze following you, his presence hard to shake off, not that you wanted to. As you finish another practice set, you heave, closing your fist to celebrate, and walk over to your bag, glancing up as his eyes light up as you catch his.

“You’re looking decent out there,” he teased, leaning over the railing, his voice laced with a challenge.

You stopped, placing a hand on your hip as you shot him a smirk, squinting up at him as you caught your breath. “Decent? It’s okay, I get it, it must be tough admitting I’m shaping up better than you.”

He laughed, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Better? That’s a stretch, Y/N. But I’ll let you keep thinking that.”

You shrugged, a teasing grin playing on your lips. “Believe it or not, it’s happening, Ben,” you winked before slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading toward the tunnel. His chuckle followed you as you disappeared from sight.

The banter didn’t end there, though. Throughout the tournament, you could feel his eyes on you, watching during your matches. On TikTok, he left comments that had both your fans and his buzzing. One day after you posted a training video, he had commented: “You sure you’re training for tennis and not modeling?”

You grinned, tapping out a reply. “I’m great at multitasking. What’s your excuse?”

His response was instant. “Just waiting for you to finally give me a real challenge.”

Comments turned into small conversations as you passed by each other, where you’d joke and flirt like it was the most natural thing in the world. His relentless teasing was addictive.  

It cooled off slightly to just a couple of liked stories and posts until Wimbledon had rolled around. By this point, the stakes felt higher. You were in top form, but off the court, the media seemed just as interested in your interactions than your matches. And it didn't end there either, it wasn't long before other peers started piqueing interest. For example, Carlos? He wasn’t subtle either.

After a long match, you were relaxing in the players’ lounge when Carlos wandered over, his smile too bright to ignore. He leaned against the table beside you, casually close.

“You were on fire out there today. Maybe we should hit the practice courts sometime,” he suggested with a casual grin.

You tilted your head, a playful glint in your eyes. “Careful, Carlos. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your fans.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll risk it. Besides, we’re both Nike athletes, we’ve got to stick together.”

Before you could reply, Ben Shelton walked into the room, his gaze locking onto you and Carlos immediately. His smile didn’t falter, but the way he sized up the interaction was hard to miss. He strolled over, hands in his pockets, exuding calm confidence.

“Carlitos,” Ben greeted, his tone casual, though the unspoken tension hung between the lines. “What’s this? Making future practice plans?”

Carlos shot Ben a quick glance, still smiling but aware of the shift. “Just talking about tennis, you know,” he said lightly. “Gotta keep sharp.”

Ben’s eyes flicked between you and Carlos before landing squarely on you. “I’m sure you can manage without help. She’s been getting a lot of attention lately, let her breathe.”

Carlos gave you a light tap on the arm before backing off, offering a polite nod. “Catch you later, Y/N.”

You waved him off with a smile. “See you around, Carlos.”

Once Carlos was out of earshot, Ben shifted a little closer, though still maintaining that casual air. “You’ve got him interested,” he commented, his voice dropping lower.

You looked up at him through your lashes, the corner of your mouth lifting into a sly grin. “What, jealous, Shelton?”

Ben’s grin spread wider, but his tone remained easygoing. “Nah, just keeping tabs. Making sure I’m not falling behind.”

You stood up slowly, meeting his gaze as you adjusted your posture, your eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t mix business and pleasure, Ben. We’re both Nike—gotta keep it professional.”

He chuckled, tilting his head. “So, you’re saying you’re all business?”

You turned to face him fully, taking a step closer, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Oh, not always. But you’ll have to keep up to find out.”

With that, you brushed past him, leaving a lingering tension in the air. His eyes followed you as you walked away, and you could practically feel his grin growing. The banter was always playful, but now, with each exchange, the stakes seemed to rise; the unspoken understanding was clear: the game was very much on.

As the summer heat intensified, so did the buzz around Nike’s newest campaign. Your latest photoshoot was all about capturing both your athleticism and your bold personality. In a blue baby tee top with a heart-shaped keyhole and a matching skort, you struck poses that screamed confidence, captioned simply: "Ready?"

The comments rolled in quickly, and it didn’t take long before Ben made his appearance.

It didn’t take long for the comments to roll in. And as expected, Ben was quick to chime in.

benshelton:

"You call that ready? Looks more like you’re just warming up."

You chuckled, tapping your response.

Y/N.Y/LN:

"Warming up is all I need to beat you, Shelton."

benshelton:

"Beat me? Let's not get ahead of ourselves... You'd need more than a warm-up for that."

The banter was familiar, yet it always left you with a smirk. You leaned into the challenge.

Y/N.Y/LN:

"Careful, or I might just take that as a challenge."

benshelton:

"I play to win."

The playful back-and-forth didn’t go unnoticed by your fans, but it was clear this game of teasing wasn’t just for show. It must've been a week before it escalated further. You hsd landed a major Victoria’s Secret campaign, and it was unlike anything you had done before. They flew you out to Paris and guided you through the whole thing. The theme was dark and seductive—a fallen angel vibe. Lingerie, lace, and the kind of allure that left little to the imagination. You felt powerful, but also aware of how this would get attention—not just from the public, but from Ben.

You posted one of the shots late that night. The lighting was dramatic, casting soft shadows across your body as you reclined in lace.

The caption was simple yet suggestive: "Best kept secret. VS Summer 2024 Fallen Angel Collection, from me to you."

Naturally, Ben couldn’t resist commenting.

benshelton: Fallen angel, huh? Guess that means you’re trouble.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile as you typed out your reply.

Y/N.Y/LN:: I thought you liked trouble.

It was no surprise when he slid into your DMs right after that.

benshelton: "I do. But you're playing a dangerous game."

You bit your lip, leaning back against your hotel bed. It was late, and the quiet Paris night settled around you, but your heart raced.

Y/N.Y/LN: " A game? Who said I’m playing? "

benshelton: "You might not be playing, but you're already winning."

You hesitated for a moment, then smirked as you typed out your next message.

Y/N.Y/LN: "And here I thought you said you could keep up."

Almost immediately, your phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t another text. It was a FaceTime call. You let it ring for a beat or two, your pulse quickening, before answering.

Ben’s face appeared on your screen, his hair slightly damp and his grin all too familiar. "You really know how to mess with a guy’s head, you know that?"

You smiled, pulling your covers up over you and leaning into the pillow. "What’s got you all worked up? It’s just a campaign."

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Just a campaign? C’mon, you know exactly what you’re doing."

You blinked up at him, teasing. "And what is it that I am doing, Ben?"

His grin widened, but there was a glint in his eyes. "You’re pushing my limits. You're tempting me"

You chuckled, biting your lip as you let his words settle over you. "Tempting? Now that’s an accusation if I ever heard one. Maybe you're just easy to push."

Ben raised an eyebrow, viting a smile back as well. "Maybe I am. But you better be careful, or you might get burned."

The heat in his gaze made your heart skip, but you kept your tone light. "I think I can handle the heat."

Ben’s smile deepened. "That’s what I’m counting on."

You stared at each other through the screen, the tension palpable even across the distance.

Finally, you smirked, pulling the covers higher. "Goodnight, Shelton."

He sighed, but his grin didn’t falter. "Goodnight, angel. Sweet dreams."

From there, the texts seemed to pour out. Every random moment, one of you would reply to a post or find some excuse to message or call, any reason to interact. You had a secret surprise up your sleeve which you knew would practically bring Ben to his knees for you if he wasn't there already, and it had something to do with a custom dress for a red carpet.

It was a hot July night in Spain, the night draped itself around you like a warm embrace, the energy of the red carpet charity event still pulsing in the air. Your dress—a stunning, sheer, sand-colored creation—clung to your body in all the right places, slit at the thigh, your hair pinned back, accentuating your glossy, sheen skin on your neck down your shoulders. The dress shimmered under the streetlights, leaving just enough to the imagination, but not too much.

Photos were posted by your team, "behind the scene" shots and red carpet poses.  The cameras had devoured every moment, the attention was full on and the night buzzed well. You reveled in the limelight and felt like a true celebrity for the night but, as the evening wore on, you began to feel drained from all the social interactions and wished you could just be alone with your phone, texting the one man who truly kept you on your toes.

Finally, as you collapsed into the backseat of your car, exhausted but exhilarated from the night's events, your phone buzzed with a missed call from Ben. The driver glanced back at you through the rearview mirror as you eagerly turned on your phone and smiled to yourself. In that moment, all you wanted was to be alone with Ben and continue this thrilling game of flirtation and surprises. You call him back after a minute passes, butterflies in your stomach fluttering away.

"Couldn't wait, could you?" you teased, giggling as you leaning back against the plush seat. His grin appeared instantly, filling your screen.

"Wait? After that post?" Ben's voice was a mixture of playful frustration and barely concealed admiration. His eyes roamed over your dimly lit image through the screen as though he could see you sitting there in that dress. "You’ve been trying to kill me with these looks for months, but this? This is the final straw."

You laughed softly, pretending to adjust the neckline of your dress as he clearly struggled to keep his composure. "I'm just doing my job. Don’t get too distracted."

Ben shook his head, a grin still lingering on his lips. "Distracted? I’ve been refreshing Instagram like a madman just to catch another angle of you. And from what I saw, I’m not the only one. You’ve got every guy on tour dropping their jaw."

You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully. "You jealous?"

"Jealous? Let’s see. Alcaraz, Ruud… even Tsitsipas liked your post. You know that guy doesn’t just like anything. But trust me, no one’s more jealous than me," Ben teased, his voice dipping lower.

You laughed softly, brushing a hand over your dress as you adjusted the fabric, playing coy. "Ben, there’s only one person I’m trying to get a rise out of—and it’s definitely not them."

His grin widened, eyes gleaming through the screen,scheming away, "Glad to hear that. So...how about you give me something a little more exclusive?Just a sneak peek. Something that’s all mine."

You crossed your legs slowly, feeling the slit in the dress reveal just a bit more skin, and you caught the driver’s eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror. He quickly cleared his throat and looked away.

You smirked, feeling a rush of boldness. "I'm in public, Shelton. What are you suggesting?"

Ben’s eyes glinted with mischief, his grin widening. "Nothing crazy. Just a little something to hold me over."

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back, the sound of the city humming outside as you sighed. You stretched your legs out across the backseat, angling your body to the side, draping yourself across the backseat for a full body shot. The dress shifted, catching the city light while still being dimly lit, showing off your figure perfectly as you lounged effortlessly. "Is this what you had in mind, Ben? A full shot?" you purred, looking up at your phone, your eyes sweet and innocent.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he exhaled sharply. "Damn, Y/N, I knew you'd look good, but this…" He let out a low whistle, leaning closer to the screen, his eyes glinting and a blush creeping up all over. "You’re not playing fair."

You smirked, enjoying the power shift. "Fair? You asked for it, Shelton."

He laughed, but it was strained, the heat in his voice unmistakable. "Yeah, but you know how to take it to another level. Now I'm the one who's going to be distracted all night." His tone softened, a teasing edge returning. "Just one more reason for me to fly out, don't you think?"

"One more reason?" you echoed, playing with the neckline of your dress, a smile teasing your lips. "I think I’ve given you more than enough."

Ben groaned softly, running a hand through his hair, clearly captivated.

" Y/N, you don’t know what I’d do if I was there right now."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Yeah? What would you do?"

"I’d start with that dress," Ben murmured, his eyes never leaving yours through the screen. "Slowly. You know, just enough to tease. Then—"

The driver cleared his throat, and you bit back a laugh. Ben noticed, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Caught?"

"Almost," you whispered, your pulse quickening as you adjusted in your seat, the thrill of being on the edge of danger sending a shiver down your spine. "You’re getting me into trouble."

"Ben’s gaze softened, though his grin stayed. "Me? You’re the one that looks like that." He paused, his voice low and rough. "God, if I could just be there…"

"Careful," you warned, grinning as you looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "You might lose yourself completely."

Ben’s gaze darkened, and his voice dropped even lower. "Maybe I’m okay with losing it when it comes to you."

You bit your lip, heart racing as you shifted in your seat. The driver’s eyes flicked up to the mirror again, and you quickly glanced away, fighting the blush creeping up your neck. “You’re dangerous, Shelton. Keep talking like that, and I might have to mute you.”

“Go ahead. Mute me,” he dared, his voice thick with challenge. “But I bet you won’t.”

You smiled, a small, teasing hum escaping your lips. “Oh, you think I’m scared?”

“I think you like teasing me as much as I like it.” His voice was gravelly now, every word laced with want.

Your breath caught, eyes wide a bit before you were about to respond when the car pulled up to the hotel. The driver got out quickly, opening the door for you. You stepped out, feeling the cool night air wash over your skin as you walked through the lobby, Ben still watching intently through the screen. You could feel his gaze on you as you made your way to the elevator, the tension between you buzzing like electricity.

Once in your room, you tossed your bag onto the bed and sank down onto the mattress. "Alright," you breathed, "I’m back in my room."

Ben’s voice came through the phone, teasing yet low with interest. "So… how’s that dress treating you?"

You grinned at his not-so-subtle curiosity. "It’s treating me well so far," you teased, running a hand over the fabric. You stood up, positioning yourself in front of the mirror.

Slowly, deliberately, you reached behind you to the zipper. "I’ll give you a little preview."

You lowered it just enough for the strapless dress to reveal a sliver of your smooth back, keeping the front of the dress held firmly in place with your other hand. The exposed skin was just enough to tease.

You turned back slightly, catching his reaction through the screen, his eyes locked on you. "You wanted to see, right?" you whispered, mischief clear in your voice.

Ben let out a breathy laugh, clearly amused. "You really know how to keep a guy on edge."

You shot him a playful look over your shoulder, still holding the dress in place. "It’s all about the suspense. You should know that by now."

Ben's gaze flickered, his tone a bit softer. "You’re making it hard to focus."

With a smirk, you turned to face him, still holding the dress tight. "Goodnight, Shelton."

Before he could say another word, you ended the call, tossing your phone onto the bed, feeling satisfied. You knew he wouldn’t forget that little moment anytime soon.

By the time August had rolled around, the tension between you and Ben was impossible to ignore. Months of teasing, playful banter, and phone calls had built into something electric, something undeniable. Now, you were both in New York for the U.S. Open. The final Slam of the year where you'd cross paths for the year, and maybe the final chance for one of you to make a move.

After winning your third-round match, you made your way through the tunnel, your heart still racing from the adrenaline of your win. The buzz of the crowd still rang in your ears, but as you walked toward the tunnel, you heard familiar voices ahead.

Ben, along with Taylor Fritz and Frances Tiafoe, stood laughing and talking just a few feet ahead. Their voices echoed in the corridor, their banter unmistakable.

“Bro, it’s embarrassing now,” Frances teased. “You’ve gotta ask her out. She’s into you, we all know it.”

Ben groaned, looking exasperated, dragging his hand over his face. “It’s not that easy. I don’t want to screw it up.”

Taylor chuckled. “Screw it up? Dude, she’s been giving you eyes all week. Just make the move.”

Frances nudged him. “It’s not like she’s hiding it either. The way she teases you, she's a green light.”

You smirked, slowing your pace as you approached. They didn’t notice you yet, too absorbed in their teasing.

Ben sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know.”

“They’re right,” you chimed in, finally stepping into view, as you walked by, wiping sweat off your brow, smirking. Their heads snapped toward you, startled. “Take their advice, Benny. It’s 'bout time you did something.”

Ben’s eyes widened as you walked past, your tone light but with an edge of challenge. His friends burst into laughter, both of them slapping Ben on the back, shoving him back and forth.

Frances grinned. “See? Even she's asking you to make a move, man.”

Ben shot him a look, but his gaze lingered on you as you disappeared into the locker room.

Later, after a shower and a change of clothes, you made your way back into the lounge, feeling refreshed but still riding the high of the match. You didn’t expect to run into Ben waiting for you, leaning casually against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

You raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk tugging at your lips. “Stalking me now?”

He pushed off the wall, taking a step toward you, his expression shifting from playful to serious. “No, what-uh, but I... I wanted to catch you before you left.”

“Oh?” You crossed your arms, looking up at him. “What’s up?”

Ben took a breath, looking almost nervous. “About what you said earlier... maybe they’re right. Maybe I have been holding back.”

You cocked your head, feeling your heart quicken at his sudden change in tone. “And?”

“And I think I’m done waiting,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “Would you want to go out with me? Just us. Dinner, maybe?”

For a moment, the world seemed to be still. Ben, usually so confident and playful, stood before you with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart.

You let the moment hang, letting him sweat just a little before your lips curled into a teasing smile. “About time you asked, Ben.”

His tense shoulders dropped, a grin spreading across his face. “So, is that a yes?”

You let out a small giggle, your voice soft but playful. “Yeah, it’s a yes. Better come like a gentleman though.”

That night, you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the sweet, soft dress you’d picked out. It was a pale pink dress, fitted at the top with a flowing skirt that flattered your figure perfectly. The neckline was delicate, with thin straps that accentuated your shoulders, and the soft fabric wrapped your waist before cascading down to just above your knees. The dress was sweet and soft, but still undeniably you—playful with a touch of elegance.

You headed down to the hotel lobby, taking a seat as you crossed one leg over the other, checking your socials. At 7pm on the dot, Ben walks in, running a hand through his curls before he sets eyes on you.

Ben stood there in a crisp white button-down shirt, the sleeves slightly rolled up to reveal his strong forearms, accentuating his strong shoulders, paired with dark, well-tailored pants. His curls were just tousled enough to seem like he hadn’t spent hours fixing it, but of course, he had. He looked handsome—maybe even a little nervous.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice low as his eyes took you in.

You smiled, a soft blush warming your cheeks, as you stood up. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He offered you his arm, and you linked yours through his, your fingers brushing over the firm muscles of his bicep as you stepped out into the lobby. There was a quiet buzz between you, the usual playfulness replaced with something softer, more tender.

As you walked to the car, Ben opened the passenger door for you, giving you a gentle smile as you slipped inside. Before he could close the door, you leaned over, reaching for the driver’s side door and popping it open for him.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he got in. “You always keep me on my toes, don’t you?”

You grinned, sitting back in your seat, and pulling your seatbelt over. “Always.”

The ride to the restaurant was comfortable, a soft hum playing through the speakers, "Love is Only a Feeling" by Joey BadA$$, making you smile a bit at his subtle but purposeful details. As the city lights flickered by outside, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. Every so often, your hand would brush against his on the center console until finally, you slipped your fingers into his, holding his hand gently as he drove.

Ben glanced at you, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “You seem... different tonight,” he said, his voice soft, almost as if he were trying to figure out the shift in your usual dynamic.

You smiled as you gazed at him. “Different how?”

He hesitated, his grip on your hand tightening just a little. “I don’t know. Less playful. More...”

“Serious?” you finished for him.

He nodded, giving you a small, sheepish grin. “Yeah. I like it, though.”

You let out a soft laugh, leaning your head against the seat. “It’s just nice to finally be doing this.”

When you arrived at the restaurant, a small, candlelit Italian place tucked away in the quieter part of the city, Ben quickly got out and hurried around to open your door again. This time, when you stepped out, you smiled up at him, letting him take your hand. Before you could fully stand, he bent down, bringing your hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Your heart fluttered at the gesture, the sweetness of it catching you off guard. “Such a gentleman,” you teased, though your voice was softer than usual.

Ben smirked, though there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “I’m trying.”

Inside, the restaurant was intimate, with small tables with flickering candles, and soft jazz music playing in the background. Ben led you to a corner table, pulling out your chair before taking his seat across from you. The low hum of other diners provided a cozy backdrop as the two of you settled in.

As you both browsed the menu, you found yourself resting your chin in your hand, watching Ben with a soft smile. He glanced up and caught you staring, a blush creeping up his neck. “What?” he asked, his voice a little breathless.

“Nothing,” you said, your lips curling into a grin. “Just... enjoying this.”

Ben reached across the table, his hand finding yours again. “Me too.”

Dinner was perfect. The pasta was rich, the wine smooth, but what made the evening unforgettable was how easy everything felt between you. Conversation flowed naturally, deeper than it ever had before. You talked about travel plans and places you both dreamed of visiting and shared stories about family traditions—like how your grandmother used to insist on making a very experimental desserts during the holidays, no matter how disastrous it turned out every year.

At one point, you glanced out the window, taking in the soft glow of the city lights before turning back to Ben. “What about you? If you could be anywhere right now… where would it be?”

Ben didn’t hesitate, his eyes locked on yours. “Honestly? Right here. With you.”

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks, your heart skipping at the simplicity of his words. He wasn’t trying to impress you, just telling the truth, and somehow, that made it even more meaningful. You reached across the table again, slipping your hand into his. His fingers intertwined with yours, the gesture now familiar, yet it sent a shiver through you all the same.

“I’m glad you asked me to dinner,” you said quietly, the weight of the night settling around you both.

Ben smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “I’m glad you said yes.”

As the night wound down, Ben drove you back to the hotel. The city outside passed by in a blur of lights, but inside the car, everything felt still and comfortable. You held his hand the entire way, feeling the warmth and quiet reassurance of his touch.

When the car pulled up to your hotel, Ben quickly got out, making his way to your side to open the door. You stepped out, and this time, you didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, you turned to him, standing close in the cool night air.

“Thank you for tonight,” you whispered softly, looking up through your lashes.

Ben’s smile was gentle, his eyes warm as they met yours. “Anytime. Thank you for being here, with me.”

Your eyes crinkled as you smiled before you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek that lingered for a moment. His skin was warm, and you felt him inhale sharply at the unexpected touch. When you pulled back, your heart was racing, but you smiled up at him, feeling the lingering heat between you.

“Goodnight, Ben,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze lingered on you, and though he smiled, there was a quiet intensity in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go, making your way into the hotel with a soft smile on your lips. You glanced back one last time to see him leaning against his car, a playful wave and your lipstick still visible on his cheek. For once, you weren’t in full control, but somehow, that felt right.

In a world dominated by meticulous moves, it was these quiet moments that grounded you. Now, with someone like Ben by your side, every win, every loss, and every day on the court held more meaning.

Sometimes, the most important victories happened off the court.

[blindmagdalena]

Hello!

Wonderful "Eat Your Ego, Honey" got me wondering:

what would happen if Homelander was interested in a stripper?

She's known for her dancing and, he sensed, her secret superpower/-s. Would he be furious that a girl dances in front of some "dirty" men? Would he torture her for being afraid of him? Would he be uncomfortable with the smell of her sweaty body?

I literally see scene of meeting: she's dancing to gothic metal in the dim lights of the room; Homelander is freaking out, jealous and horny (because he feels like she's having a blast dancing).

Thanks for your fanfics, I adore it! Because of your headcanons I fell in love with Homelander and decided to watch the series...

anon. the absolute RABBIT HOLE you sent me spiraling down with this ask is genuinely insane. firstly tho, thank you!! i'm so happy you enjoy my work and have been inspired to watch the show! i hope you love it as much as i did.

okay, now, onto the meat of this. i can't imagine Homelander ever being in a strip club, but i absolutely can see Vought having a dancer supe who performs at shows! and then i started thinking about what kind of powers she might have.

(this got long. strap in.)

and okay. bear with me here. i have the FAINTEST memory of a kids show (something like goosebumps or are you afraid of the dark) where they told a monkey-paw type story of a girl who wished that everyone would like/love her. and of course this turned out to be a fucking nightmare. people were obsessed with her automatically to a scary degree and she was eventually swarmed and maybe killed by the aggression of the adoring crowd? i don't remember.

but that made me think about her power being something of that nature. a chemical that compels people to adore her. when she sweats, and that sweat evaporates off of her skin, it fills the air people in the vicinity inhale it. it's what makes her dances so incredibly popular! but too much exposure to her powers can cause, uh... scary side effects in people. make them deranged. obsessive.

she hates it. it's destroyed all the relationships in her life. it's pretty much inevitable that she'll eventually effect the people around her, and it either freaks them out to the point they break contact with her or creates a completely inauthentic infatuation with her. it's impossible for her to know if anyone actually likes her, or if they're just under the influence of her powers.

she, like Homelander, would know what it's like to be "loved" in the most hollow sense of the word.

how cut to Homelander who's present at one of these shows where she's dancing and oh my god something smells incredible. downright intoxicating. it calls to every fiber of his being and he follows the scent of it until he's close enough to the stage, and it shocks him to his core to realize it's a person.

except! Homelander is so fucking chock full of V himself that he's not wholly affected by her... idk, pheromones? whatever you want to call her aura of effect. but he IS intrigued by it. by her. by the way her body moves and how she seems to have cast a SPELL on the entire audience.

he expects he'll be able to get a chance to speak with her after the performance, but bafflingly, she gets the FUCK outta there as soon as her set is done. naturally he has to follow!!!!

and okay i just had so many ideas for this! i even thought of One Single Friend she has who's a fellow supe and, due to his own powers, he's immune to her effect. i haven't figured out how exactly. maybe he doesn't breathe the way normal humans do. or he has some kind of innate filtration that makes him immune to gasses and things. his supe name is something stupid like... The Filtrator.

speaking of which her supe name would probably be like. Enchantress. something that alludes to the charming effect she has. but her friend knows how her powers work and he playfully calls her The Perspiren. perspiring siren. 😭😂

anyways i think they could have a lot of really interesting parallels! and of course Homelander would be intensely possessive of her, but he's also a HUGE exhibitionist and i think he would get off on knowing how badly everyone wants someone that's his.

he wouldn't ever physically hurt/torture her, but he would of course become violent if his possession of her were challenged or threatened in any way. if anyone touched what's his, or presumed they could take her. anyone she showed interest in would definitely wind up dead.

can you tell that i thought WAY too hard about this.

idk if i would make this an oc or a reader fic. i feel like this could definitely work for my first proper supe!reader fic! it's got a ton of potential. thanks so much for sending this!

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Ten

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Later than usual, sorry! But I've been busy with a whole load of shit ngl, it's just been stress:) Let me know if anyone else wants to be added to the taglist though, I realise my updating is a bit sporadic? Maybe? Just a little? Lmao, anyway here's 10, hope you enjoy!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

Jacket potatoes were a fucking delicacy.

Any Brit back home would tell you that. You could top ‘em with all sorts; Chilli, Tuna, Cheese, Chicken, Stuffing, Coleslaw, Bacon, Gravy, Bolognese— some people even liked them plain. But my favourite, as well as the only real and true way to serve a jacket potato, was with an ungodly amount of butter and baked beans.

Being in the States, it was a rather hard dish to come by. But, seeing as Marshall always appeared to go above and beyond, beans (No, none of that shoddy American shit) could be found in the little basket he’d gone and gifted me the day before. A little wicker bowl full of goodies to soothe that little ache of homesickness. 

I smacked the can down onto the countertop and levelled Rosie with a long stare.

“You’re serious?” She asked me around a wary glance, extending her arm out cautiously to get a better look at the bright blue tin as though she thought the contents might just reach out to try and grab her back.

“Deadly.” I remarked, attempting to keep my smile hidden when I met her question with a raised brow, “You’ll love it.”

Rosie didn’t look too convinced about that fact and yet, she rolled up her sleeves and took a seat at the counter to watch me work, helping out with the few things that she could. 

She had waltzed in through the front door a while earlier, just a second after I’d made it up the stairs, and the grin she’d worn when she had spotted me had had my heart warming and the pair of us wandering into the kitchen, arm in arm and already talking at a mile an hour. 

I was sauteing some mushrooms in a pan after having peeled and diced them up, whilst she kept a keen eye on the warming potatoes. “So Dad’s finally found some inspiration then?” Rosie asked me after a while, peering into the oven.

I smiled when I peered over at her, seeing how the orange glow of it washed over the side of her face to softly illuminate her features. “Seems so, we got a lot done but he was on a roll by the end of it.” I told her in reply, shaking the pan again and blinking at the sizzle that sparked up, “What do you mean anyway? Finally.” I dragged out that last word in a small singsong which made her chuckle as she stood to her full height once more and turned.

“He’s been trying to write for a couple weeks now, I think. Or months.” She shrugged, stepping back to watch the mushrooms fry with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Not sure, but he keeps complaining about it whenever he’s on the phone.”

With a small hum, my eyes flickered back over to her, then to the pan again, “He didn’t mention it.”

Rosie blew out a faint chuckle and leant back against the counter, knuckles wrapping around its edge, “Why would he? He hates jinxing himself.”

It was cute that she noticed things like that about him, something I’d begun to note in the short time I’d been staying with the two, but I didn’t know... A large part of me wished that Marshall would have said something about it before, or at least alluded to it. It made me feel a bit bad for bowing out so early now. 

Still, my mind was quickly recaptured by the task at hand and then the story that Z deemed to tell me about, apparently a teacher thought that one of her friends was a shoo in for these auditions that they had coming up soon. The familiarity of the scene made me think back to Lottie, to everything that was happening back home, and I wished, silently and not for the first time, that it could be possible for a person to exist in two places at once. 

The spuds took their time baking but soon enough they were ready and piping hot, fluffy on the inside and with a crisp exterior. Rosie gathered up the butter and cheese at my signal, face lighting up at the prospect of being able to drown her own in the latter, whilst I pinched the tops of the spuds with a clean tea towel and plated them up, spattering them with a small amount of herbs.

I was going to keep Marshall’s wrapped up in tinfoil, if only to save it from going all horrible before he had the chance to try such a delicacy, but thankfully he’d worked his way back up the stairs just in time. I wondered how he’d managed it.

“Hey, you’ve got table duty.” Rosie exclaimed as soon as she saw him bustling over the threshold, handing the cutlery she was already holding to him without a second thought, which caused Em to blink down at his hands whilst he struggled not to drop the sudden weight he'd just been shafted with.

“‘Scuse me?” Marshall prompted, brow furrowed as his gaze wandered about the rest of the kitchen. I wondered what he thought of the bubbling pot of red sauce sitting on the hob, as well as the absurd amount of butter both Rosie and I had already lumped onto our steaming plates.

“You can set the table, Dad.” Z explained as she jumped back to help me with the mushrooms, her voice edging the line of a whining lilt, “We cooked! So it’s only fair.”

Marshall stared at her for a second longer before he ultimately snorted, “Right.” He murmured, recapturing his hold on the silver he held and eyes finding mine, before he spun round on his heel and left the room once again with a small smirk. When he returned, his plate was almost ready and just about to be loaded up with– “The hell’s that?”

I withheld my snarky reply in favour of smirking when Rosie answered for me, her eyes widening in the face of her father’s obvious leery expression. “Beans, Dad. El told me it’s one of her favourite meals, she wanted to share it with us.”

It wasn’t hard to hear the undertone there, the kind that told him to keep quiet on how he felt about the bubbling bowl I was currently holding because Z obviously didn’t want me feeling disheartened in any way. It was adorable, as was the stern face she’d paired with it, the same face that her dad found hard to waver against. His shoulders slumped ever so.

“Right.” He repeated for the second time tonight, dragging the first syllable out a tad, “Looks good?” He tried. 

I had to laugh then, “That a question or statement, Mathers?”

His eyes flickered over to meet mine, but I motioned for Rosie to get a start on heaping the cheese we’d grated onto her plate, the girl’s responding grin was giant. 

“I–” Em appeared stumped for a split second before he eventually just pressed his lips together and decided to jump in on helping us. Although he did complain when he spotted the frying pan sat off to the side, “Mushrooms too?” But with Rosie’s short warning of Dad, Marshall only appeared to raise his hands in mock surrender and then moved over to grab the plates so that he could carry them off into the next room.

I shared a conspiratorial smile with the younger girl before we followed after him, the three of us settling into the same seats as we had occupied the day before. Marshall still looked wary, even with his beans being hidden beneath a thick layer of cheese that I figured he had reasoned to himself would mask whatever taste was under it, but Z, to my utter surprise, looked ready to dig in.

“Changed your tune there, lovely.” I mentioned with a sly smirk, my gaze lingering on her long enough to catch the sheepish reaction she bore before she just shrugged and dipped her head around a grin, fork already in hand.

“Smells good.” Was the excuse she used and so I softened my face into a smile too.

“Well you helped so of course it does,” I quipped easily, picking up my fork as well before nudging Em’s forearm, “Come on, you big baby. Just try it. If you hate it, I’ll order you whatever you want. On me.”

That had him rolling his eyes, but he picked up his knife and fork with a determined expression.

I bit back a round of chuckles I could feel bubbling in my throat and used my chin to getsure for the pair of them to get stuck in. Rosie was quick to tear into hers and I was silently thankful for the way the potato easily broke apart under her knife, its texture fluffy and golden.

“Oh wow, this is so good.” She blew out the second that she could, already moving onto her next bite whilst Marshall was still working his way up to trying his own. “When you first showed me those beans? I was so sure I was gonna puke.”

I snorted quietly at that image, perfectly content with the plate of home I’d gone and conjured up for us, whilst Em’s face wrinkled. “Well if you had hated it, you’d have only had your Dad to blame, he’s the one who bought them.”

“I jus’ looked up British shit, they were top five on every list.” Marshall defended before he finally took a bite, slow in the way he raised his fork to his mouth, his eyebrows raising a little as he let the taste settle in, “Shit.”

My eyes narrowed a tad around the smile that I was chewing on to keep hidden but I watched him cut further into the potato, beans and melted cheese puddling around the sides. “That a good shit or bad shit?”

“Three dollars.” Z acknowledged, voice muffled by the food she still had in her mouth.

I laughed at that and shook my head in fond amusement before I turned to Em for an answer. He took another bite, a big one, something I took to be a good sign, and just nodded. My brow quirked in hope. “So good?”

He hummed, one shoulder shrugging, “Ain’t gone die if I finish it.”

Snorting, I could only shake my head at him, hiding my smile behind my fist. “Idiot. You like it.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though the gesture was obviously fond as he raised his fork to point at me, “Just grateful you didn’t burn down my damn house.”

Rosie’s giggles filled the room and with them we all settled in to enjoy. Marshall asked after his daughter’s day and the girl was all too happy to ramble and rant to him, face lighting up at the prospect of it. She mentioned her English lesson, the book they had started on and how her teacher had explained this one paragraph to her class, then she went into detail about the play that was set to happen just before the Christmas break. I chimed in here and there, putting in my two cents where it was worth, but in truth, I was perfectly content to simply listen and watch on. 

The clean up that followed was mainly made up of me and Z messing around and singing to the music Em had stuck on, never the type to linger in silence. The pair of us did manage to rope the man into joining us once he had loaded up the dishwasher though, something he thoroughly complained about but followed through on all the same. He was just a sucker for his kid's smile, I reckoned, went above and beyond for the girl and it was all too easy to see.

It was a lot later that we all fell into a comfortable silence around the tele, Rosie sat crossed legged on the sofa with her homework whilst I offered help whenever asked. Marshall had joined the two of us a little later, after his phone had rang and he’d stepped out to take the call, he’d padded into the room with only the explanation of ‘Royce’ before he’d fallen into the seat beside me. I’d hummed but was too distracted by Rosie’s newest question to prod him further on it.

By the time she had finished up, handwriting practically perfect, her books had fallen into a heap on the coffee table and she’d slowly but surely scootched her way further up the sofa. I kept my eyes on the tele when I’d outstretched an arm in quiet invitation but hadn’t missed the grin she’d given in turn before she’d settled into my side, head coming to rest on my thigh. I caught Marshall’s watchful stare from out of the corner of my eye but didn’t glance back over, smiling at the scene that played out on the screen whilst my hand smoothed over the girl’s hair. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed between us before Marshall’s quiet cough broke the peace we’d since created, but the sky was more of a hazy cast of dark blue now rather than the ruddy auburn that had lined it much earlier. I stifled a small yawn.

Rosie sniffed softly in my lap, twisting a tad to cast her Dad a quizzical glance. Throughout the duration of the film that Z had picked out for us to watch, the man had gotten close enough that he now only had to drop his shoulders to poke at her cheek.

“Bath and bed, kid.”

The scrunch that overwhelmed Rosie’s face at the order had me grinning and so I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before moving my hand to pat her shoulder. “Up and at ‘em, soldier. Heard what the old man said.”

“Do I have to?” Z huffed, just as a hand came up to rub at her eye. Marshall’s mouth ticked ever so slightly into an amused smirk, his fingers replacing mine in an effort to smooth the front of her hair. 

“School tomorrow.” He reminded her all too gently, dropping his hand lower to shuck the underside of her chin which only made the girl smile sleepily. “You know the deal.”

She sighed heavily in retort, but did eventually make the move to push herself up and out of my lap, legs stretching across the couch cushions before her feet found the floor. It was just as she went to stand that she turned to face me though, her expression a little meek but rapidly losing the residual somnolence it had just held. “Will you do my hair again for me tomorrow?”

I was caught by surprise at the question she’d asked. I wouldn’t lie, but I didn’t let the reaction show as I smiled warmly back at her, reaching out to tap a finger on the top side of her hand, “‘Course. Anything you want, lovely.”

Rosie’s little grin had her eyes squinting and forced the corners of her mouth to pinch upwards in a move that only deepened her dimples. She leaned over to give me a hug of thanks, whispering the word into my ear before she pulled away and rounded the sofa, kissing her Dad’s cheek on her way out.

“No messin’ about, Z. An early night, ‘kay?” Em reminded her, leaning against the back of the couch so that he could tilt his head far enough to see her, “I’ll be up soon.” He added, his words met by another charming grin whilst she shook her head in fond exasperation and slipped out of the room, leaving just the pair of us and the tv. 

It was a long while before Marshall disturbed the quiet once more, the film we’d been watching had finished some time ago and so now all that was playing on the screen was a couple repeats of South Park and the odd advertisement. “She’s different with you.” I heard him voice.

With a furrowed brow, I let my head turn to find him. He was perched in the same position he had been, but now with an arm stretched along the back of the sofa and a knee bent to fill the small gap that still separated us. “What d’you mean?”

When he replied, it was low and soft, a murmur if not for the sincerity behind it. “She don’t act like that ‘round nobody.” He told me, fingers jumping in a steady rhythm on the back of the cushion, his eyes peering between mine. “Me, sure. She’s a fuckin’ koala when she wants to be, but with other people… it’s something she second guesses.”

His words confused me. Or rather, threw me. “I don’t get it.”

He dropped his gaze, blowing out a small but mirthful huff through his nose, his thumb dragged along the edge of the sofa. “You known her what, three days? And she don’t think about gettin’ close to you. Sure she’ll be coy with it, sly even, but that’s ‘cause she don’t wanna overstep with you. Like that right there–” Em said, getsuring his chin out towards my lap, I followed the gesture, then blinked back up at him, remembering the way she’d approached me, “She don't do that with people.”

My face must have given away to the fact that I was still trying to process the weight of what he meant, because his smile was soft, warm even.

It made me think of Lottie, who was always so open with her affection, who gave it out without thought or focus, her smile always great, always there. Then of myself. I tended to avoid affection where it mattered, a reason as to why I’d never let many people too close to my heart, why I hadn’t had something fulfilling to divulge when Marshall and I had spoken about past exes, I supposed. It baffled me to see some of the same tendencies I’d shown growing up in Rosie, in a girl too sweet, too loving, too happy to be so aware of how to guard herself.

I looked to him again and let him have his fill, allowed him to see how his words, the sentiment behind them, had pierced through the armour I’d long since moulded around myself. 

One side of his mouth lifted and he used the hand resting on the back of the sofa to circle my wrist, leaning in a little closer, filling that previous gap. “Ro’s had her mom, her sister. They’ve been there. They love her, and she loves them. I know that. But with Kim, it ain’t always parentin’, it’s fun and games. It’s showin’ off, not showin’ up. It’s messin’ around until she finally grows–” 

He paused there, eyes flickering left and then right as his tongue swiped over his lower lip, almost as though he was resentful of the term he wished to use. 

He settled for, “Bored. Or maybe jus’ tired, you know? She’s there until it's her time to step up and do the job she’s ‘sposed to, til it's missed recitals and forgetting pick-up, that’s when she reacts. Pulls away.”

He sighed, gaze caught on his fingers, on the easy way they engulfed my wrist. His thumb brushed over the freckle that dotted the bone, and continued on through a slow exhale, “Ayla, she’s a lot older. She does her own thing, she’s got school, work, friends. Z obviously filters into all that, but there's always been a small divide. I like to think it’s just ‘cause of their ages– it’s how me and Nate worked growin’ up, you know? But there’s this whole idea that fuckin’ messes with my head, like maybe it's all down to me. Ayla’s my niece, but she’ll always be one of my own. I love that girl as much as I love Rosie. More than life itself. But I know I hurt her, havin’ her here, watchin’ me fail and fuck up whilst she was growin’ up. And jus’, maybe I can’t help but wonder if I ever let her know that enough, that I loved her, if it’s that that’s impacted her relationship with Z.”

I was quick in my attempt to soothe his doubts, the hand he didn’t hold jumping over to lay across the top of his own. “I’d call you an idiot, but I reckon you already know that.” I chuckled halfheartedly, though my smile was genuine when his eyes snapped up to meet my own, “You’re an amazing father, Em. I honestly believe that with my whole heart. And it doesn’t take much to see it either. I mean, I was here not even a day and was so quick to see the love you held for your daughter. I saw it in your reactions too when we called, when you spoke of them, however brief it was. I haven’t met Ayla but I don’t think I’d have to for me to see that your worries are just that, worries. I’m sure that girl loves you in the very same sense that I am sure that she knows you love her. That you see her as much more than just your niece.”

My thumb trailed over the back of his hand, skimming knuckles, taking in their slight discoloration, the faint white lines that could have only been age old scars. I dipped my head a tad so that my gaze could align with his shadowed blues, prompting him into lifting his eyes from off the floor.

“I’m also honoured that you think Rosie’s comfortable enough around me to mention the gravity behind it, that you’d trust me with her company, let alone her affection.” I said sweetly, gifting him another smile, it was close lipped but one that appled my cheeks. His stare caught onto it, fingers tightening around my wrist by a fraction in a squeeze that showed only his appreciation. So I squeezed back, fingers fastening over the top of his fist. “Z’s hard not to love, she’s all of your best parts and more. Sometimes…” 

I took a small breath, fretful over saying what I had intended to until Marshall met my flickering gaze once more, silently prompting me on. I swallowed thickly, feeling the force of it travel through my throat, but did follow through, “Sometimes it’s just hard raising kids, I guess not everyone’s made out for the harsher reality of it all. Of having to be a parent and not a friend. I mean, it was forced on me in a way, I’ve been raising my siblings since Danny the day came along, since before I knew what being a mum meant. What one was.” The weight of that admission had me reeling for a split second, at the truth it held. But I pursed my lips before allowing my eyes to find Marshall’s once more, “Kim, I’m sure she tries, I’m sure it’s more than my mum ever did, ever could do, but it’s okay for you to fear that it’s not enough for Z, too.”

Marshall worked his jaw, blinking for a second before he eventually spoke, voice rasping with the emotion he felt. “Kid deserves the world.”

I found myself grinning at that, the teary kind which glossed over your eyes but was strong enough that you couldn’t prevent the fluid motion of it. It was without thought that my arms came up to wind their way around his neck and I relaxed further in the gesture when I eventually felt his face come to rest against my shoulder.

“She does.” I murmured, hand cupping the back of his neck, fingers resting over the fine hair which lined his nape. “She does.” I heard myself repeat again as my eyes slipped closed. 

When we parted, I watched as Em knuckled the corner of his eye, grunting faintly to clear his throat and rid the room of any tension that then clouded us. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but did look away towards the tele when he started to shift once more, giving him a sense of security that he hadn’t been caught out, that I wouldn’t dig too deeply into his reaction. 

“Thanks.” He murmured after a stunted moment and it was only then that I glanced back over to him. I smiled in turn.

“Nothing to thank me for.”

When we parted ways for the night, I chose to head on up to bed, mind so full of thoughts that I found it hard to latch onto a singular one, whilst Marshall stopped at the bottom of the staircase to gift me a quiet goodnight, eyes caught on the reflection of moonlight that crept its way across my cheek, the sight mirrored on his own face.

I didn’t know it then but I would eventually, he’d never felt so inspired.

So as I’d slipped beneath my duvet, my mind stuck on the words we’d shared, Marshall was back down in the studio, writing away once more. But this time, it was for a completely different reason.

[secrescaryat]

// pentiment spoilers (implied ig but still there)

more of these because i was inspired

[rheakira]

Today, May 23rd, is Robin's birthday!

Happy birthday, Robin!

[smilesrobotlover]

AO3

Next>>

Chapter 1- hello again

Link had made plenty of mistakes in his life. Some of them were small, futile, and had very little consequence. Others were big, dangerous, and almost unforgivable. He couldn’t count how many times he’d almost lost his life due to his own foolishness, how many times he’d upset someone he cared about due to his temper, or how many times he was met with scorn due to his own choices. His life was riddled with mistakes, all having consequences that affected him one way or another, with some being forgotten, never to be spoken of again.

That mistake he made… he thought it wouldn’t be serious, he thought it would be one of the few that were forgotten. Sure it was a serious mistake, but it was one time. Surely the goddesses would be merciful on him just this once, right? Surely they would forgive what he did. He understood it was wrong, he’ll never do it again.

He hoped that they would forget about when he made love at twilight.

It was a moment of weakness for him. The girl who he spent his entire adventure with, who stuck at his side, who saved him, who he loved, was dead. Or so he thought. He killed the demon king with righteous anger swelling within him, grief gripping his heart so tightly it physically hurt, wanting to kill the man who killed her.

It was only after the demon king was dead when he discovered that she was alright. When he saw a familiar silhouette among the light spirits, he couldn’t help himself sprinting towards her, pumping his exhausted legs to where she was sitting to just make sure that she was real. That she was alright.

And she was. She was alive and… well… different. The light spirits removed the curse upon her that turned her into an imp, changing her into a beautiful twilight princess. He remembered when he first saw her. She was tall, with such loving eyes that stared back at him, her hair tied in the front, and her face… His brain blanked when he first saw her, and he didn’t say anything. He just stared.

“What? Say something!” She finally broke the silence, with a familiar teasing grin forming on her lips. “Am I so beautiful you have no words left?”

It was her, she was real. This was the Midna he spent so much time with, the Midna he fell in love with, the Midna he wanted so desperately to protect because of all she did for him. He smiled a relieved smile, and hugged her tightly, crying into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and cried as well. They were both alright.

Zelda arrived shortly after to be with her friend, talking about what happened and what should happen next. Due to Link’s injuries from Ganondorf, they decided to head to Kakariko where he could rest, and they spent a long time together.

When Midna and Link were alone, they would talk for hours, quietly so no one would know about her, and one night, they got a little carried away. They were sitting on Link’s bed at night, and they exchanged kisses, and they snuggled up next to each other, and kissed again. One thing led to another, and it turned into a huge mistake. After what had happened, Midna started avoiding him, whenever she saw him, there being a deep sorrow in her sunset eyes. Link didn’t know why she was suddenly acting like this, but he knew he was at fault. He should’ve stopped, he should’ve slowed down and got her off of him, he thought she wanted to do it, but clearly not. He was afraid he put too much pressure on her. He was just so happy that she was alive, that Ganondorf was dead, that finally he was able to have peace, and he wasn’t thinking. He tried to talk to her about it but she’d just brush it off, so he stopped bringing it up.

Finally, when Link was healed enough, Midna said that she needed to return to the Twilight Realm, so they traveled to the Gerudo desert, his heart hurting from having to say goodbye to Midna. She may not think of him that way anymore, but she was still a dear friend to him, and he still cared about her deeply. And though they could visit each other, it was always sad to see a friend go.

But sad did not describe the feeling he had when the mirror was shattered, with Midna gone forever. That feeling was sheer agony, the worst pain he’s ever had to endure in his life. It almost ended him, he almost changed into someone unrecognizable, and thoughts plagued his mind over it. Was it something he did? Was she that upset over that night? And what ate away at him the most: would she have a child because of that night? The thought of her giving birth without him being able to support her killed him on the inside. He felt like a complete failure, he hated himself, and he wished that none of it ever happened.

So he prayed to the goddesses to be merciful on him. Just this once. To not let Midna suffer because of his foolishness, to simply let that mistake be. He would never do it again. Just please… don’t let anything come of it… please…

Two years later had passed, and so did some of the pain. With help he was able to recover, his dear pa tried to reassure him that Midna didn’t leave because of him, that she still cared for him. It helped, even a little. And so he slowly began to move on from Midna, move on from that night. He never told it to anyone, hoping that it would be forgotten by him and the goddesses. No one else needed to know about the best and worst moment of his life. Though he did wonder, even though it hurt, if he had a child out there somewhere, a child that he could never give his love to.

But his question was answered one night.

It was pouring rain with distant thunder, and Link was tossing and turning for hours. He couldn’t do anything to get his mind to relax and finally sleep, so he let out a frustrated sigh and stared at the ceiling. Normally rainy nights helped him sleep, but for some reason that wasn’t the case tonight. He closed his eyes and let out another sigh. He knew it was better for him to stay laying down with his eyes closed, but being alone with his thoughts was almost maddening.

He listened to the pouring rain outside, the different sounds it made as it hit his tree house made him grateful that he had a roof over his head, and a roof over Epona’s head. Being wet was the worst feeling for him. He rolled over and tried to let the rain soothe him, and it almost worked until—

Thump thump thump.

He opened his eyes at the unnatural sound, sitting up and staring at his door, slowing his breathing so he could hear better. Did he imagine that? Who would be banging at his door in the middle of the night?

He flinched when there were three more loud thumps at his door, confirming that he did not imagine it in his half asleep state. He was wide awake now, and got up as his heart grew worried over who could be at his door. Was it Rusl? Was he alright? Was something wrong with his daughter? Or was it Illia? Was she alright? Though they rarely spoke anymore, she occasionally came by when she needed comfort. He reached for his door and let out a breath to calm himself, opening the door quickly.

But who he saw sent his heart into his throat.

It was Midna, she was standing there, a desperate look in her eyes. Her clothes were soaked as she stood in the rain, and the two were silent for a moment as they stared at each other.

Midna… after two years of accepting that he’d never see her again, here she was. She got much taller, almost double his height, her jewelry was more extravagant, but she herself, she still took his breath away.

Finally after a moment of silence, he finally found his words.

“Midna?”

Her breath hitched, and she shifted a bit, a bundle in her arms that he finally noticed. His heart stopped when he saw a child, no older than two, crying silently in her arms. He was clearly a twili, having bright red hair, dark blue skin, and black markings. He looked like Midna, but when he opened his eyes, it was without a doubt that they matched his own. Gray-blue eyes stared back at him in fear. For Din’s sake…

“Link,” Midna breathed out, “I… desperately need your help.”

Link stared at the boy in silence for a long moment, but he finally got ahold of himself. He took a deep breath and gave room for them to head inside.

“Y’all will get pneumonia if you stay out for any longer,” he said gently, gesturing to his home.

Midna smiled and a relieved tear rolled down her cheek as she slowly moved inside. Link got dry blankets, ignoring his thumping heart. The child was cautious around Link as he tried to dry him off. He stared at Link with confusion and awe, his mouth agape as the rag Link was using to wipe him down slid off his head. Link paused when he noticed his left arm covered in bandages, and he gave Midna a look, but she did not return his gaze, she just stared at a corner in the room.

“What’s your name, little one?” Link tried to ease the pressure, being as gentle as he could with the child.

The kid looked at Midna, then back at Link. He had fear in his eyes, Link could tell.

“You’re safe here, I promise… What is your name?”

The child looked down, and it took a moment for his sweet little voice to speak up.

“Um… Kowi,” he mumbled.

“Kori?” Link repeated, just to make sure he heard him right. Kori nodded and Link smiled. “That’s a lovely name.”

Kori smiled, dimples that matched Link’s appearing on his cheeks, only making it more obvious that he was his own. “Tank you, uh,” he looked up at Midna and she gave him a reassuring look. “Whasis… youw name?”

“I’m Link.”

“Nink? Um… tat’s a— um— nowvwy name.”

Link chuckled at the little boy trying to speak. He barely understood him, but it was the cutest thing in the world. “Thank you.”

Kori nodded and rubbed his eyes. “Mommy towd me stowies ‘bout Nink.”

“Really?” Link looked over at Midna, who continued to avoid his gaze. He sighed and returned his attention to his arm. He reached for the bandage but Kori froze and pulled back. His eyes were full of fear again. “What happened there?”

No one said anything this time. He looked at Midna and stood up.

“Midna… What’s going on?”

Midna closed her eyes and finally looked at him.

“It’s… He’s…”

“My son?”

Midna looked up with shame written on her face, and Link’s anger quickly went away. She shouldn’t be ashamed…

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, returning to Kori’s injured arm, “let me clean this, ok?”

He finished drying off Kori and changed his bandages as gently as possible. Kori stopped talking, only his soft cries and the sound of the rain against the roof was heard. As Link cleaned and redressed Kori’s arm, he noticed that it was a nasty wound, a slash mark trailing up his arm, and from the looks of it, it was fairly new. Who could’ve done this to a child? Kori whimpered and pulled back as Link tried to clean it.

“Sh, it’s alright Kori. The pain is only temporary,” he said gently. He wrapped up the arm and gave it a slight pat. “See? All done! You were brave, little one, good job.”

Kori sniffed and rubbed his eyes again, and Link frowned as his tired little eyes looked back at him. He didn’t know if Twili ever slept, so it must’ve been a Hylian thing for him.

“Here, let’s get you a nice place to sleep, ok?”

Kori watched Link as he set up a comfy bed made of blankets, gesturing for Kori to sleep in it. The boy stared for a long moment until Midna got up and nudged him towards the bed. With his mother’s reassurance, Kori wobbled over to the bed and laid down. Link grabbed his goat plushie Billy and stared at it for a moment. He knelt down next to the bundled up boy and handed the plushie to him.

“This is my friend Billy,” Link bounced the plushie around with Kori watching, amused. “He always gives me comfort when I need it.”

Kori shyly grabbed Billy and snuggled up against him. He closed his eyes and smiled.

“Tank you,” was all he said before he fell asleep.

Link smiled at him, he was a sweet little boy. He stood up, and the heavy situation returned to him. He walked to where Midna sat, still and unmoving and took a deep breath

“Midna… I,” he started, trying to think of what to say to her, trying to think of something to keep the conversation going, just trying to talk to her again, but all he could muster up was, “Hello again.”

Midna stared at him for a moment before smiling.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Link pursed his lips and decided to get everything off his chest.

“Clearly my actions have hurt you Midna, and I’m so sorry…. I’m so sorry about that night. If I could take it back I would!”

Midna’s expressionless face changed to confusion.

“What?”

“That boy… he’s ours… because of what we did…. And I’m so sorry… I know I hurt you and I wasn't there for you when you had him and I’m really sorry and I should’ve stopped and–”

Midna raised a hand to stop him, standing up and stepping closer to him.

“Link, do not blame yourself for what happened that night. It… wasn’t your fault alone…”

“Alone?”

Midna sat down, her head hung. “I didn’t do anything to stop it either… I knew that I needed to break the mirror, and I tried to keep my distance from you but… I didn’t. You didn’t know what I was going to do.”

Link stared ahead, not feeling any form of relief from that. He still felt confused, guilty, and almost sick to his stomach.

“Did that night mean anything to you?” He asked quietly.

Midna stared at him, her mouth slightly open.

“It meant everything to me.”

“Then why did you break the mirror?”

Midna looked down. “You know why. Deep down you know why. You saw what happened when Ganondorf went through the mirror, you saw what happened when Zant found him,” she sighed and sat back down. “Shadow and light cannot mix.”

Link looked over to where Kori, his son, laid asleep.

“Clearly shadow and light can mix,” he said quietly. Midna said nothing and rested her head against her hand. She looked exhausted, both physically and mentally. Link wanted to help her, but a few more things bothered him.

“How did you get here Midna?”

“I can't say. It must stay a secret.”

Link nodded, he figured that was the answer. Now for a more important question.

“What happened to his arm?”

Midna buried her face in her hands, her exhaustion more apparent. Link walked close to her and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, hey, It’s ok, he’s safe now. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

Link stayed by Midna for a while, rubbing circles on her back. After a moment, she sniffed and opened her mouth as if to say something, but she was interrupted by a sudden shiver.

“Here let’s get you into some dry clothes…” Link said, noticing how she was still sopping wet.

Link quickly dried her off and offered some of his clothes, even though most of them wouldn’t have fit. He was somehow able to find something for her to wear that would fit her large frame, and when she was dressed he sat down, waiting for her to explain herself.

“I…. I hoped that nothing would come of that night,” she finally said after some silence, “because if something happened, then leaving this world behind would’ve been nearly impossible for me to do.”

“But something did happen.”

Midna nodded, not looking at him. Link sighed, the goddesses weren’t merciful to him. His prayers were not answered. He wasn’t there for Midna, he didn’t watch his son grow up, he wasn’t there when he said his first word, when he took his first step, when his true personality began to shine through. To Kori, Link was a stranger, not a father. And Midna had to raise him all by herself. A lump in his throat formed and his stomach felt hollow.

He should’ve stopped that night.

“As princess of the twilight realm, when I’m supposed to have a child, she should be a female, so that the monarchy can continue. I’m the only woman in the Twilight Realm, I’m not sure if you knew that.”

Link tilted his head. He did not know that. It would explain why he’d only ever met male twili besides Midna, and why the only female was the ruler. It almost reminded him of the Gerudo, which was rumored to be a tribe of women except for the one male born every one-hundred years.

“When I gave birth to Kori,” Midna continued, “he was a boy, and he wasn’t fully Twili… that ended up scaring some people. They thought that he was going to bring destruction to us.”

Link’s heart sank. She didn’t have to say, he knew.

“They hurt him.”

“I’ve been trying to find a way back here so he could be safe… but as soon as I found a way… he… got hurt badly by my advisor.”

Her breath hitched at the memory, and Link grabbed her hand. She smiled at him, a small but genuine smile.

“He’s safe now. You both are,” he reassured.

Midna stared into his eyes for a long moment.

“I missed you Link.”

He sucked in a breath. He’s missed Midna more than anything. He wanted nothing more than to see her again, to talk to her again, to tell her about all of the things he’s experienced. But now that she was here, he didn’t find anything to say. He didn’t make a move to hug her, to cry, he just felt… awkward. Midna’s smile went down when he said nothing, and she gently rubbed his hand.

“I know I hurt you, and it’s not right of me to ask this of you but… I was hoping that Kori could stay here… he’ll be safer here, with you.”

“Safer here? Yeah I would never hurt him, but I can’t say the same for the rest of Ordon. How do you know that everyone here will accept him? How do you know that they won’t be scared of him too?”

Midna leaned in closer. “Because they’re your family Link, you have a better influence over them than I over my people.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Just because I’m the princess doesn’t mean they listen to me all the time. It’s complicated but clearly I couldn’t do anything to protect him from my advisors. Your family loves you, they trust you, they’ll try to understand you.”

Link listened for a moment, but pulled his hand away when a heavy realization plagued his mind.

“Midna… we’re not married.”

Midna raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“I don’t know how it is in the twilight realm but having a child before marriage is a sin here. I know my pa wouldn’t hurt Kori, but…” fear gripped Link’s heart at the thought of Rusl’s reaction towards Kori. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “There’s a lot of problems here, Midna.”

Midna looked down and chewed on her lip, thinking.

“I… I know… I know there are a lot of problems but… I can’t let him stay in the twilight realm.”

Though he felt like Ordon wasn’t safe, Link understood why the twilight realm was more dangerous. As a half Hylian and half Twili, Kori really wouldn’t be safe anywhere. He’d probably be labeled as a monster all his life because of who he was, especially after the twilight invasion. Link let out a breath and stared at his sleeping son.

“I understand…”

Midna stared at him for a moment while Link stared ahead, avoiding her gaze. She scooted a bit closer to him and tapped his shoulder lightly.

“Hey, I’m not going to let you deal with this alone.”

Link looked up at Midna, a sliver of hope forming within him.

“We both made the choice that night, Link, neither one of us should deal with it alone,” she got closer and stared into his eyes while Link’s heart thumped against his chest. “We’ll raise him together.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and the past two years separated withered away for them. When they were together now, it was almost as if they were never apart.

“I can't abandon the twilight realm, but I’ll try to visit whenever I can. I just need Kori to be safe.”

Link looked down and their clasped hands, then at the sleeping child. An overwhelming feeling of protectiveness came over him, and he nodded. “I understand Midna… I promise I’ll keep him safe.”

Midna smiled. “I knew you would. Trust me, I wouldn’t ask this of you if nothing bad happened but—“

“Don’t worry about it. I’m his father, he’s my responsibility now.”

Midna stared at him for a long moment, then she leaned in, Link’s heart nearly jumping out of his chest. He wanted so badly to show how much he missed her, he wanted to scream to the heavens on how happy he was to see her again, but… he felt too much pain for it to be perfectly fine, and he turned his head away.

“I’m sorry Midna… there’s a lot more we need to talk about.”

Midna let out a sigh and smiled.

“That’s fine, I’m staying for a while anyways. Let’s talk.”

[happi-tree]

⚔️👑 shield and scepter 👑⚔️

Howdy, y'all! So my wonderful mutual @raemeh did this really cool fanart of my royalty Swiftli au (the fic for which can be found here), and I had some little design ideas about them in my wips, so I thought I'd post the two of them here! Thank you so much to everyone who's enjoyed it <333

[cuz-reasons]

Summary: Sometimes, all Ingo and Emmet needed was to exist near the other. It's difficult to do that when one goes missing, when you don't know what you're missing. It can be harder to get used to it again as well.

Another short thing today! Although, a little more angsty than the last thing I posted

[allygatoor]

i think it's time that we as a society realized that actually eternals wasn't bad it was just not standard marvel fare and that's okay

[ishikawayukis]

221219 ✧ happy birthday kang younghyun 💕

missing young k hours 10 - ∞

[melverie]

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh today I've been constantly experiencing the urge to un-private today-in-the-devildom & start writing for it again

[gardenofhope]

happy birthday to my kirby ocs, luca and lula!!! they mean so much to me you don’t understand

1 (one) close up under cut

:]c

[ur-fav-alien]

Chocolate

Orange Cassidy/Danhausen , past Hook/Danhausen Fluff? But Also angst? Not sure Hook can't bring himself to stop staring (thank you Lipton for giving me this prompt mwah!!)

Hook has been staring at them for the past 20 minutes. He hadn’t looked away once. 

And what could Hook be staring at? What could capture his most undivided attention? 

Orange Cassidy feeding Danhausen different Easter treats they had been gifted in a care basket from Tony Khan. 

Hook didn’t know why Danhausen was here. He should’ve been home resting with his torn pec, but no. He was here, backstage, giggling like a little girl with Orange Cassidy. And the worst part of it all? Hook wasn’t allowed to get angry. Danhausen and him weren’t together, they hadn’t been together for almost a year now. 

They could’ve been together if Hook wasn’t the world’s biggest pussy. They had a couple of ‘hangouts’ before and after their tag team match, and a couple more rendezvous between that time, but it was nothing. That meant nothing if you couldn’t slap a label on it, and Hook just couldn’t do it. 

He wasn’t one for relationships, and Danhausen started making him one for relationships. It was scary, so he ran away. He told Danhausen he didn’t need him anymore, and that was it. 

So now, for the past year, Hook has had to deal with the budding love between Orange and Danhausen… Orangehausen, as they had been called by multiple people. 

It made him gag. 

Hook had to watch Danhausen be ringside at all of Orange’s matches, had to watch Orange growl and bare his teeth at anyone who fucked with Danhausen, had to watch the two of them be the cutest almost-couple ever. 

No, couple, not almost-couple, sadly. Hook had found out a month ago. He had been tapping through snapchat stories when, in the background of one Austin Gunn selfie, Orange’s lips were just about grazing Danhausen’s with a smile on both of their faces. 

It had made his heart stop. Orange had done the thing that Hook had been too scared to do. He had made himself Danhausen’s boyfriend. 

Orange’s eyes connected with Hook’s. A dead, lazy stare. Hook didn’t know how some nonchalant son of a bitch bagged the world’s most hyperactive golden retriever. 

A smirk curled at the corner of Orange’s lips, and Hook’s face twisted in confusion. There was an evil look in Orange’s eyes. Hook felt very uncomfortable. 

Without looking away, he picked up a square piece of chocolate and put it between his teeth, leaving half of his sticking out of his mouth. Orange only looked away to tap Danhausen on the jaw to get his attention. Danhausen perked up, and Orange raised his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Danhausen does not eat from other people’s mouths.” 

There was a look in Orange’s eyes. I’m not like other people, he was saying silently… I’m not like Hook. 

That simple change in Cassidy’s gaze was enough to make Danhausen cave in, so he leaned in. Orange’s eyes went back to Hook’s, that sick and twisted asshole. He was doing to push Hook’s buttons, to laugh in his face, to just bully him. This was bullying! 

Hook couldn’t look away, though. He couldn’t look away as Danhausen bit down into the chocolate and got pulled into a kiss by Orange. He couldn’t look away as Orange’s hand threaded through Danhausen’s hair. Couldn’t tear his eyes away as Orange kissed Danhausen with so much more passion than Hook could’ve ever given him. 

The only reason Hook looked away was because the tears in his eyes started hurting and the tightness in his throat made him yearn for some kind of hydration. He got up out of his seat in the lounge and tried to make it seem like he wasn’t booking it straight for the door, just quickly walking to the water refill station. 

The giggle and moan that Danhausen let out when he first got pulled in burned itself into Hook’s memory, playing over and over again. 

He could’ve been in Orange’s position if he wasn’t such a pussy, but no. 

Stupid Orange Cassidy…

[0reblogufufu0]

Happy Birthday to @snoobins !