#because guess who finally had to face the fact she had no idea where this was going?

[novemberheart]

{overview} Its agreed. The 141 needs an omega. But how will you react after already being rejected by them?

{warnings} Fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, light pricexsoap

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3

“Visitor!” Ms. Helen knocked on your door, causing it to open.

“What did you do now?” Miriam smirked from her bed next to you.

“Nothing.” You replied, baring your teeth playfully. She laughed, throwing a pillow at you on your way out. “Do I get to know?” you hummed, trying to keep up with Ms. Helen.

“No,” she responded harshly. She was all bark no bite. You rolled your eyes, running your fingers across the wall as you followed her to the visitation room. It was cozy, and designed to make omegas comfortable. Soft lighting, lots of windows and things to hide behind. When the door opened you caught sight of a familiar blonde.

“Kate.” You cheered, as Ms. Helen shut the door to give you two privacy.

“Hey, Honey.” she greeted warmly, giving you a tight squeeze.

“How's Robin?” You asked, plopping down with her on the couch.

“She's good, busy with the dogs and garden. She says ‘hi’.” Kate smiled, taking a quiet deep breath of your scent. Peaches and Vanilla. It wasn't nearly as fulfilling as her wife's scent, but it was enough to take her slight edge off.

“Please tell me you're breaking me out of here for lunch.” You pleaded to the alpha next to you.

“We can do that after.” She smiled at you. “There is something we need to discuss first.” The smell of nervous alpha drifted towards your nose, giving you goosebumps.

“Alright.” You said slowly. You projected your scent, trying to cover hers. It seemed to work.

“I have a placement for you.” She finally admitted. The first reaction you had was to wince, your head beginning to feel light as your lungs dropped to your stomach along with your heart.

“Really?” You said slowly. “Did they pick me?” was your second question. Her smile faltered a bit.

“No. But I'm picking you.”

You guess that'll have to do.

You and Kate had known each other for a little over a year now. She had met you when she was interviewing omegas to be paired with military packs. You quickly became her favorite, (and almost everyone else’s who interviewed you) and she knew exactly where to put you. Unfortunately, the rest of your ‘soon to be’ pack wasn't as willing. Kate put a hold on you though. Leaving you effectively stuck in an omega-holding house.

“They've already rejected me before, Kate.” It came out as a whine, you couldn't help it. “Is it the same pack? What's going to make this any different?”

She winced at the noise, her brows furrowing.

“Yes, it’s the same pack. And they didn't reject you, they just rejected the idea of an omega.” she corrected. “It's different this time because they've wised up. They asked me to find them an omega.”

“And here I am,” you said glumly.

“None of that.” she scolded, her hand smacking against your knee. “You still have their files?” She asked. You nodded your head. Of course, you still had their files. They practically haunted you.

Plus it was just about the only eye candy you could get in a place like this.

“You remember Simon right?” she continued. You nodded your head. The only man in your file without a picture. He was a fan favorite amongst your friends, along with Kyle. Something about the mystery just had everyone's wheels turning. “He got hurt. Hospitalized.”

“That's terrible.” You gasped. “He’s going to be alright?”

She quickly nodded her head. “Yes, but on the bright side, it made them realize how much they need you,” she said softly. You begin to have a gnawing feeling in your stomach and you are one more fact away from getting the shakes. “Calm down.” she groaned, waving a hand in front of her face. When nervous your scent turned from sweet to sour. Not in a moldy fruit way, but in a strong lemon way. Kate could feel her mouth pucker.

“I can't help it.” you groaned back. “I thought I was going to die in this place. Now you're telling me I have to leave and go out into the world. Not only that but I get to join a pack that has no interest in me other than a healer. You know what it's my turn to refuse.” You snapped. “If that Captain ‘Cost’ or whatever his name is wants me then he can come down here and ask me.” You snapped.

“Captain Price.” Kate corrected, working her hardest to stifle a laugh. “How about we go to lunch, then you can think about it. I can tell you a bit more about them. Maybe that’ll change your mind? Hhhm?” She soothed, patting you on the back.

Who were you to turn down lunch?

Simon had yet to fully wake up. The doctor was right, waking up was a nightmare. John had decided to spend the night outside Simon’s door- just in case. The sound of a thundering growl quickly jolted him awake. John had to tranquilize Simon himself, through a hole in the door. First and hopefully last time he'd ever have to use a blow dart.

It went on like this every few hours, until finally the nurses just decided to keep him under. Simon had cracked a few of his ribs in the fight with himself, along with obtaining more bumps and scrapes.

“Poor lad.” John huffed, after telling the rest of the pack.

“Didn't happen to record any of it did you?” Johnny questioned. “What?!” he spat after Kyle and John glared him down. “Simon drugged up trying to fight nonexistent enemies. Don't sit here and tell me it wasn't entertaining.” Johnny smirked. Kyle pressed his lips together, his imagination slowly taking control.

“Was a sight.” John admitted finally. John suddenly leaned forward his finger tapping against the Scots left shoulder, where Simon’s mark was.“That's one of your alphas you're talking about.” John corrected. Johnny shivered, instinctually leaning into John's warm touch.

“Technically he's the second alpha. You're the pack alpha.” Johnny continued, wanting to soak up as much affection as he could. It worked.

“Good boy.” John praised, his hand drifting over to Johnnys' right shoulder, where his mark was. Johnny purred, his eyes drifting over to Kyle who was watching the whole ordeal with slowly lowering eyelids. Kyle snapped himself out of it.

“Not in public.” Kyle reprimanded.

“You're just jealous.” Johnny nearly panted.

“You get worked up so fast,” John murmured.

“Still got any tranquilizers?” Kyle growled.

After talking with Kate and about three margaritas later you had softened. She had dropped you back off at the omega house holding house, with a tight hug, promising you that everything would work out.

John twitched in surprise when his phone began buzzing in his pocket.

“Kate?”

“When do you need her?”

Yay, you're here for chapter two! Chapter three will be uploaded in two days! See you there 🧡🤎

[buckyalpine]

I'm just throwing out an idea while attending to my garden of boundless wips but just imagine the compound getting attacked and the one area that's the most damaged is the lab. Hackers want to steal all the Stark technology and they stop at nothing, waiting for the team to leave before they destroy the building, blowing the structure till it crumbles. The only one still remaining in the building is the lab tech.

The jet nears the compound; Tony and Steve are already suited up again while Sam adjusts his wings, Nat and Clint armed and ready to go.

Everyone but Bucky.

"Tony was anyone still in the building?" His face is filled with horror, staring at the smoke emitting from the areas that were hit, his heart hammering against his chest.

"My lab tech, y/n, she was still working when we left" Tony ran a hand over his face and the color drains from Bucky's cheeks.

"WHERE IS SHE" Bucky does everything in his power not to lose control, snapping back into soldier mode and strapping his weapons, shoving past Steve so he can jump out first as they near the compound.

"Barnes its okay, we'll find her" Tony reassures him but he can't hide the confusion on his face because why on earth was Bucky this concerned over his lab assistant. They had never spoken a word to each other, in fact he didn't even realize Bucky knew you existed.

"She's pregnant!" Bucky had never sounded so scared in his life, pulling himself together to keep from breaking down.

"What-when-how-how do you know" Tony had never felt more confused in his life while the others all whip their heads around, shocked at what he'd just said.

"That's my wife"

The jet doors open and Bucky is the first one out, sprinting through smoke and flames till he gets to the worst part of what's left, debris and rubble scattered over the floor. Bodies hit the floor as he takes out anyone that he sees without a second guess. He frantically searches, holding back his emotions till he spots the broken glasses first. Dust and crumbles cement cover your unconscious form, blood dripping from you forehead and he doesn't pause to try and wake you up himself.

She's in his arms and he's rushing to the med wing while the rest of the team trail behind him, seeing as he's already killed anyone that broke in. Once your taken in, all he can do is wait, pacing up and down the hall till he's given the all clear to see you. He sits by your bed, desperately holding onto your hand, Steve being the first to check on his best friend while the the others quietly enter after.

No one breathes a word till you finally open your eyes, giving you and Bucky privacy till you're ready to see the others. He's tucked into bed with you as they enter, his arm wrapped around your tummy, rubbing soft circles with his metal hand. You weren't showing much yet, seeing as it was still early on.

"Okay, spill, when did you marry my lab tech" Tony playfully teased while Bucky blushed, hugging you closer.

"Last year" He admitted, while Steve smirked, coming over to check on you.

"Doing okay sweetheart?" The blonde asked, plopping down on a chair beside your bed, smiling when you nodded, "How's my godchild"

"You knew?" Sam wacked Steve's shoulder only to be met with a snicker from both soldiers.

"Who do you think was the bestman" The captain smiled proudly while you giggled, giving Tony a sheepish smile.

"I was gonna tell you Mr. Stark"

"When, did you think I wouldn't notice a little super soldier running around the lab?" He cocked an eyebrow with a smile.

"You knew?" Sam repeated, still deeply offended while Steve shook his head, kissing your forehead before getting up so you could get some rest. The rest of the team followed after, deciding to bombard the two of you with questions after you'd slept.

"YOU KNEW?"

"Give it a rest Sam"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Almighty Captain, Never lies, Sir Honest A Lot, YOU KNEW?"

"Sam"

"YOU KNEW?!"

I'm sorry, this wasn't the most organized drabble, just an idea I wanted to toss out into the world.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Sore

Logan Howlett x Reader

Minors, do NOT interact.

A/N: More of my Wolvie because my creative side rests in him atm. Based on the fact that my back literally is brokeback mountain and my legs feel like I took that cowboy up on his offer for five hours after saving his horse atm 🤣 also, domestic smut is SO underrated.

Anyway, all interaction, especially commentary is heavily appreciated! Enjoy!

Cw: Logan’s helping you feel less sore, things get steamy. Fluffy and spicy, domestic!Logan.

P.S: Want more of Logan? Check out my headcanons and/or feel free to submit an ask for a Drabble or Ficlet. :> You want daddy dom Logan? I gotchu. You want Logan to watch, idk, Cars with you?? I gotchu. Just nothing too dark or too crazy, please. Anonymous or not, feel free to drop your thoughts/thots!

****************************************************

You had flopped down on the your big ass bed the moment you’d gotten home from the gym. For whatever reason you had thought it would be a good idea to overdo it both today and yesterday, and now your legs and back were suffering the consequences.

So here you are, lying face down, starfish style. You barely remembered to kick off your nasty shoes and socks. Haven’t showered, haven’t pulled the comforter down. Just lying there in your misery as the pain in your legs chooses to linger.

You had to have been lying there for about ten minutes when you’re finally ready to get up, but then you hear the door open.

“Y/N?” Logan calls, having just got home from work apparently. It’s about eight at night, this is very early for him.

“Bedroom,” you call back weakly.

You hear his light footsteps pattering towards you. If you hadn’t been together as long as you had you wouldn’t be able to hear him because of how stealth he is.

“Aw, sweets, what’s wrong?” he asks as he walks into the bedroom.

“Sore,” you mumble, giving him another one word answer.

“Why?” he prods, in a somewhat lilting tone that implies he knows exactly why.

“Cause I overdid it,” you say begrudgingly. He was the one who warned you not to, and you could all but sense the smirk that had to be on his face right now. “If you say ‘I told you so’ I’m going to smother you,” you threaten as a follow up.

“Do it with that pretty cunt of yours and we’ll call it even.” Cheeky, as always. You groan in response, and not in a sexy way, even though his dirty words don’t fail to make your core feel a little warmer. “Alright alright. Can I try to make you feel better?”

“Please.” Your voice is slightly whiny as the ache in your legs is starting to get unbearably annoying.

“Aww, sugar,” he tuts, kissing you on the top of your head. “Just give me one second.”

He disappears momentarily, reappearing with some Advil and lemonade for you to drink it with. He sets the pair on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna sit you up, okay?”

“Wait-“ you protest, before gasping ‘ow!’ as he uses his trying arms to hold you up, resting your back against your plush pillows and headboard. He sits in front of you, draping your calves over the tops of his thighs.

“Here,” he hands you the lemonade and Advil.

“Thanks. Wait- tell me about your day,” you prod, before swallowing the pill and the drink down.

“Oh, you really are sweet on your old man, ain’tcha,” he grins, flattening out the random wisps of hair that had escaped your updo. You smile sweetly at him, before downing the rest of the glass.

“Well, I went to stop some guy from stealing an old lady’s purse, but by the time I got over there she was smacking him over the head with it.”

“What in the Tom and Jerry?” you laugh incredulously.

“I swear it! In my too-many years I’ve never seen anything like that.” God, you could never grow tired of seeing Logan like this. Giggly, tired, relaxed. It’s so nice.

“It’s the thought that counts, I guess,” I offer.

“Yeah, until Granny knocks it out of you,” he quips, and we both laugh. “So, where are you hurting?”

“My legs and my back. Shouldn’t have done the extra set of the one where you close your legs on the thing,” I tell him.

“What’re you wearing under this?” he asks, motioning to you. You’re wearing a sports tank and shorts, and underneath…

“Girl’s boxers and a sports bra.”

“Attagirl. Mind if I strip you down to those? Less layers makes it easier for me to dig into you.”

“You ask that as if you don’t fuck me almost every night,” you quip, the affirmation plain in your voice.

“And almost every morning and afternoon, but who’s counting?” he retorts with a mischievous grin. This is true- even after so many years of being together the two of you still can’t keep your hands off of each other.

“Don’t forget about evenings,” you add.

He gasps melodramatically, -“I could never.”-before tugging off your shorts. You sigh contentedly, glad to be free of your fabric confines. He then gently eases off your shirt so that, true to his word, you’re only in your undergarments.

“Can you lay on your stomach for me?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you slowly move from your spot amidst the pillows, slowly but surely. The pain doesn’t get enough time to build as much as before, and just rests at the same throbbing as before. You hear Logan rummaging in the nightstand.

“Shit, sorry, baby. I thought I had bought more of that lavender oil, but I forgot,” he says apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it, your hands are more than enough already,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah?” Logan turns any words he can into a double entendre, it’s his sense of humor.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a rabbit mutation,” you laugh, referring to his persistent and ever present horniness.

“Do I look like a rabbit to you?” he asks gruffly, still joking. You feel the bed dip from behind you under his weight.

“You are pretty cute,” you tell him.

“But a rabbit?” he asks, incredulousness in his voice.

“Mayb-ohh,” your words are broken off as his surprisingly gentle hands start kneading your calves.

“Ohh,” he imitates, pressing deeper. God it feels good- hurts on contact, but then completely alleviates the pressure.

“Shut up,” you try to say through your soft moans of pleasure.

“That’s gonna be a no, sugar,” you can hear the overconfidence in his voice, and it doesn’t even bother you because of how much better you’re feeling.

“Ow-,” you whisper as he presses on a particularly painful spot in the inside of your leg.

“That’s it, huh?”

You meekly hum in response as he takes initiative to continue pressing on it, digging into it with his thumbs.

Eventuakly he has you feeling like putty, all comfortable until…

“Oh, come on!” you say indignantly as he flips you over. You feel the dull pain in your legs ignite again, and you already know what he’s about to make you do.

“I know, but you know you need to stretch,” he chides, sitting on his knees between your thighs. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, because he knows damn well how inflexible you are, especially when you’re sore.

You stick your tongue at him to no avail. He grabs your thigh, squeezing it before beginning to push it back. The dull pain immediately intensifies.

“F-fuck you!” you squeak as he pushes your thigh back further, your knee nearing your shoulder. You clutch Pookie as tight as you can to your chest. The words are directed more to the pain than him, but he can’t help but tease you, naturally.

“Is that nice?” he chastises lightly, the smile plain on his lips as he holds you in place. You can feel your muscles screaming from the soreness, but the position does seem to be alleviating the pressure some.

“No,” you pout guiltily, not wanting to seem ungrateful to him.

“I’m kidding,” his voice softens as he presses my leg back further.

“Ow!” you whine, the additional pressure making your leg impossibly more sore.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he reassures me, massaging the back of my thigh as he holds it in place. He grabs the lone stuffed animal that rests amongst your too-many pillows and blankets. It’s an okapi, his name is Pookie. However, Logan calls him ‘Abomination,’ because the first time you showed him a picture of one that’s what he called it. You always get miffed about him calling it that, so he adamantly makes sure to do so, even though he’s the one that bought it for you on a whim. Go figure.

“How about you hold A-Bomb? Will that make you feel better?”

“It will if you call him by the right name,” you tell him, sass in your voice. He grins- for whatever reason he finds it extremely amusing to annoy you.

“But his name is Abomination,” Logan insists, momentarily distracting you from putting down your leg before picking up your more sore one.

“No it’s not,” you protest, before literally squeaking from how bad it hurts to have the other leg pushed back.

“Fine, it’s not,” he says gently, handing you the stuffed animal with his free hand as he keeps your leg pinned back. You squeeze it as he pushers further, holding it for what feels like fifteen years but in reality is probably all of fifteen seconds.

Slowly you start feeling better, that is until he drops your leg and grabs both this time.

“Logan, no, I’m already stretched out, I feel better-,” you try, but as always, he knows better. He lifts both legs up, and however much better you were feeling is immediately ruined because your lower back is being added to the equation.

“Ow!” you whine, trying to wriggle free from his grasp to no avail. Damn his super strength. Your back is all but shrieking at you now.

“I seem to recall you being able to do this,” Logan says smugly. And you immediately clench on nothing, because you know exactly what he’s referring to.

“Well you’re not exactly dicking me down right now, are you?” Usually when your legs are over his shoulders like this it’s because he’s ploughing into you like it’s your last night on earth. And the memories are vivid- he always makes damn sure of that. The sweat on his brow, his filthy vocabulary….

Okay, you’re wet now.

“Dicking you down?” he laughs. “What are you, Wade?”

“Suddenly I’m not turned on anymore,” I roll my eyes. The Merc with a Mouth may just about exclusively talk about sex, but somehow it’s never sexy. Maybe it has something to do with the fact he still has the brain of a thirteen year old. Who knows.

“Mmm, let’s see about that,” he murmurs, tossing your stuffed animal to the side and dropping your legs down, to your relief. He tugs at your boxer shorts, looking you in the eye for consent. You nod, and he takes no time at all to slide them down your pretty legs. “Looks pretty turned on to me,” he says gravelly as he looks at your cunt.

“Mhm,” you agree, your voice wanton and low.

He knows exactly what you like, and neither of you is surprised by the shiver your elicits from you as he runs a knuckle through your slick folds.

One of the things about being with Logan is anything can be sexy, and by association, turn into sex. You don’t mind at all- you match his freak, if you will- but it is easy to marvel at how random it can be.

Some days it’s just your morning chatter- you’ll be talking about who knows what, maybe a movie you’ve seen, maybe your plans for the day. And then you’ll straddle him to get him to focus on you, because he’s always sleepy and slow in the morning. Before you know it he’ll have his hands on your hips, easing you up and down on his cock.

Other times it’ll be you two silently reading on the couch, legs crossed over one another because you can’t go a second without touching. Once one of you gets bored, it’s over for the other. If it’s he who gets bored but you’re still invested in your book, he’ll have you cockwarm him and finish your book. Sometimes it’s the other way around, but because you’re so needy you’ll usually be bouncing on him before he can finish and who is he not to do as you wish?

It’s always something. And one of those somethings apparently him helping you stretch,, which is a new one because usually you pass out after he contorts you like that.

After getting you ready for him, which really doesn’t take long since you’re almost always wet for him when you’re in his vicinity, he pulls down his sweats and his own boxers just enough to expose his dick.

But, because he’s Logan, and he’s annoying, he grabs the backs of your thighs with a mischievous grin, and before you even realize what he’s doing he presses both of your legs back. It really doesn’t hurt as bad, especially when he leans down to kiss you so passionately and all-consumingly that your mind clouds over.

“You ready f’me?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know that you are.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah,” you breathe. “Just go slow, please.”

“I promise, sweet girl,” he kisses you again, aligning himself with your entrance. “God, I love you,” he whispers as he watches himself slide into you with ease.

“I love you too,” tell him through a gasp, kissing his nose. “Please don’t make me more sore.” You have to reiterate that you want him to be slow, because while Logan is the sweetest, most considerate lover you could have, sometimes he can’t help but overdo it.

He laughs, not one to deny your imploring. “I’ve got you.” He bottoms out slowly, resting inside of you before pushing just a little bit more, hitting a spot that feels so good that it brings tears to your eyes. You’re so, so full of him, you can feel every twitch. This angle, painful as it may be, lets him get so wonderfully deep inside you. It’s a wonder you hadn’t tried this sooner.

“Oh, Logan,” you breathe, leaning into his touch as he kisses over your collarbone.

“Good, huh?” he says somewhat cockily, slowly pulling out of you before bottoming back out, hitting that impossible spot again. It feels so good that you can’t even think of something to say in response. “Thought so,” he smiles, kissing you on the nose. His voice has gonna somewhat breathy, but he still continues his steady, slow pace. The sounds that fill the room are gentle, with soft sighs and grunts and the occasional moan of one or the other’s name. And it’s perfect.

It feels so good that you feel tears slipping down your cheeks, and he leans down to kiss them away. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” His tone is soft, and it prompts you to further bury yourself in your fluffy comforter and pillows as he slowly coaxes a release out of me. He kisses you, slow but passionate as his fingers start to circle your clit in the way you like. The circles are much faster than his thrusts, and the sensation of the contrast in paces is absolutely delicious.

Logan loves having you like this- soft and sweet, in no rush. Your legs strewn haphazardly over his shoulders, squeezing him every time he nudges the head of his cock that extra inch inside of you. He loves to kiss you, to talk you through it. He loves you.

“You’re taking me so well, beautiful. You always do,” he coos, adding more pressure to your sensitive bud. You only whimper in response as your orgasm starts to build. He can feel it, hell, he can smell it. That sweet smell that’s so uniquely yours, that he’s so addicted to. “You gonna cum f’me? Make a mess all over this big dick?” he asks, knowing full well how much of a mess his dirty words make of you. You nod ever so slightly, you’re entire body on fire from how good it feels.

Your legs tighten around his head as you cum, and it’s perfect. The pleasure is immense, intense enough to make you close your eyes as he keeps his same pace, drawing it out longer than ever. “Logan?” you whisper once you catch your bearings.

“Yeah?” he asks, still moving slowly and hitting that perfect spot. His voice is slightly strained, you can tell he wants to cum.

“Cum in me, please,” you ask with your best doe eyes.

“Gladly, sugar,” he kisses you again, coming with just a few more thrusts as you clench around him as tightly as you can. “Fuck,” he mumbles, biting the juncture of your neck and shoulder and darkening what may as well be a permanent mark from him. He always bites in the same spot. He lets your legs down but stays inside you, panting as he holds you close. Eventually he pulls out, and you whine from the loss of contact, feeling your mixed releases slip out of you.

“You feeling better?” he asks, laying on his side as you do the same.

“Yeah. Thank you so much,” you tell him.

“Anything for you, gorgeous. I’ve heard that a good orgasm releases tension.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he hugs you close.

“Waiiiit I need to shower,” you complain, trying to push him away.

“In a minute,” he counters, nuzzling his face in your neck and squeezing you tighter.

That’s definitely the biggest lie he could have told you, because you both knew damn well it would be more than a minute. And even when you do get out of bed- sorry, Pookie!- there’s always room for showers and post-shower sex. You don’t make the rules, it just happens. And with your luck you’ll probably be sore tomorrow, and you’ll probably have asked for it.

What can you say? You’re just a girl, after all. A girl who loves her guy, whose guy loves her.

Fin! Xx.

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Written in the Stars [Teaser]

Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Summary: Mingi had spent countless years searching for the angel who saved his life when he was on the verge of death. He believed god was on his side when she finally reappeared before him, but she was now so near yet so far, so unobtainable. No longer just a young medical trainee, she had become an esteemed royal physician—a woman working within the palace walls. And what did that mean? It meant she now belonged to His Majesty.

A/N: Credits to @sundaybossanova for contributing the main idea of Mingi's spinoff. I might have changed most of the proposed plot, but the MC's identity as a physician and how the two first meet remains Sunny's idea.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 1

"Ooh, guess who's here again," your colleague remarked, nodding toward the entrance of the royal medical hall where a certain tall, handsome military strategist strode in for what felt like the thousandth time this week. You sighed, refusing to look up from your book. "Please tell me it's not him."

She gulped, watching him approach. "Hate to break it to you, but it is your not-so-secret admirer, General Officer Song."

"Good afternoon, ladies. I, uh… I'm here today because—" his familiar deep voice rang out as he paused at a respectful distance.

Clearing your throat, you finally closed your book and turned to face him with a courteous smile, finishing his sentence for him, "Good afternoon to you too, Officer Song. Let me guess, you're here because you got hurt during training again?"

Instead of the usual sheepish nod, he shook his head and nervously fiddled with his fingers. "No, actually… I came to ask if… i-if you would like to accompany me to the royal banquet celebrating Joseon's unity with Ruhon tonight, Royal Physician Ahn?"

You froze at his question, and your colleague mirrored your reaction. The two of you exchanged bewildered glances, trying to process the fact that this fool was openly pursuing you, a woman working in the palace, someone who belonged to the King.

Does he realise what he's doing?

You're probably wondering why I'm posting this on a Wednesday (depending on where you are) but it's a public holiday here today in Malaysia, so surprise!! It's finally Princess Mingi's turn! The way y'all thought his spinoff would be the first and here he is HAHA

In case you're confused and are not sure what I mean by MC belonging to the King, please read ✨this✨

As always, I'll do my best to get the first part out as soon as I can! Let me know your thoughts on the concept! <3

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[imaginespazzi]

Part 2: And Even Now

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Because I'll never let this go (but I can't find the words to tell you)

(In which a deadline-averse writer actually lives up to a weekly deadline)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, A little bit of fluff I guess?

Words: 6.9K (back to my usual)

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Happy Monday! Nobody get used to me actually updating on a proper weekly basis because really, let's be honest you're all lowkey shocked I'm actually living up to this too but we'll see how long I can make it last. As you read, let's just all remember my favorite three words: For. The. Plot! Editing and I continue to be sworn enemies so you'll definitely find typos along the way and feel free to point them out so that I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful rest of your week my loves <3

February 2033

Azzi’s heart is beating a million miles per minute as she gets into her car. She’s just invited Paige into her world  and even if she knows that it was the right thing to do for her team, the full force of what she’s just done is starting to hit her. The plan had been the exact opposite. In fact the plan had been to avoid Paige at all costs while she was here in Oakland. Azzi had spent nearly a decade building this new world of hers that was devoid of anything Paige and it had taken Ohemaa an hour, explaining why Paige was the last domino they needed to fall to win a championship, to convince Azzi to bulldoze her own walls. 

Banging her head against the steering wheel, Azzi lets out a frustrated scream. She’d been the picture of calm and composed while talking to Paige, but internally an earthquake had started rumbling within her the minute she’d finally laid eyes on the blonde. It was unfair that age seemed to have no effect on Paige, unfair that she still made Azzi’s stomach do somersaults, unfair that that stupid smirk made Azzi nostalgic for a feeling she used to call home. It’s funny really. There was a time in Azzi’s life where she didn’t know how she’d survive without seeing Paige every day. But now if the blonde does accept her offer, Azzi thinks, seeing Paige every day, might just be her poison ivy. 

The sound of her car doors opening shakes Azzi out of her pity party, as she rushes to compose herself before Stephie sees her. Through the rear view mirror, she watches as her daughter happily climbs into her car seat, a giddy smile on her face. And all the stress and anxiety seems to evaporate. 

“What’s got you so happy Stephie bean? What did you and Aunty Leen do?” Azzi asks, so focused on Stephie’s grin, that she misses Colleen, who’s just let herself into the passenger seat, shaking her head.

“Aunty Leen lost me,” Stephie says coyly and Azzi immediately turns to Colleen whose head whips around to look at the little girl in the back seat. 

“Stephanie Katarina Fudd are you lying on my good name?” she hisses. 

“Stephie,” Azzi chides, catching on quickly “did you run away from Aunty Leen again?”

“She was boring me Mama,” Stephie whines, sticking her tongue out at Colleen, “and if I didn’t run away, then I wouldn’t have met Miss Buecks.”

Oh.

She told me she thinks I’d look good in purple.

Azzi’s breath hitches in her throat. She hadn’t quite registered that Paige’s words from before meant that she must have met Stephie, too busy finding a way to get out of the gym that was starting to feel just a little too hot. It only clicks now as Stephie starts to ramble about how she’d ran into a stranger in the chill room. But it’s not the idea of Stephie and Paige meeting that sends a shiver creeping up Azzi’s spine. No, it’s that enamored smile on Stephie’s face. It’s the way Azzi’s little girl’s eyes light up just saying those two syllables Miss Buecks. Maybe it’s genetic or perhaps just a Fudd family fatal flaw but Azzi can see a fourteen year old version of herself, blooming in Stephie. She’d hidden it well, behind exasperated head shakes and exaggerated eye rolls but falling in love with Paige Bueckers had been just a little to easy back then. Apparently, it still was. 

“She was really nice Mama,” Stephie gushes and Azzi’s hand tightens on the steering wheel, “is she gonna come play for your team? I told her she should.”

“So I heard,” Azzi murmurs and she can feel Colleen’s eyes immediately shifting to look at her. 

“You talked to Paige?” Azzi’s best friend asks, a skeptical lilt in her voice. 

Azzi shrugs, “I ran into her in the gym.”

“And what exactly were you doing in the gym?” 

“Looking for Paige,” Azzi says sheepishly as Collen makes an indiscernible noise.

“Did you ask her to join your team Mama?” Stephie chimes in eagerly from the back, unaware of the way that the childlike hope in her voice is putting her mother on edge. Azzi has built an impenetrable fortress around her own heart but she’d never considered that perhaps she should have built a moat around Stephie’s too. 

“Yeah baby, I did,” Azzi admits slowly and this time Colleen lets an audible gasp, except it’s drowned out by a series of exhilarated squeals erupting from the backseat. 

“MISS BUECKS IS GONNA JOIN MAMA’S TEAM,” Stephie screams, practically bouncing on her seat as she begins to repeat the phrase in a sing-song voice. 

“Hold your horses, kid. She hasn’t said yes yet,” Azzi warns. 

Stephie smiles secretly, “but she will Mama, I know she will.”

It makes Azzi feel lightheaded, the amount of trust Stephie seems to already have in a stranger. There’s a part of her that wants to crawl into her daughter’s mind and erase the memory of blonde hair and blue eyes because she knows, she knows better than anyone, that once you walk through that door, there is no coming back. And Paige would never willingly hurt Stephie -even after a decade apart Azzi has that much faith in the blonde- but that doesn’t mean that she wouldn’t break her heart any way. 

Colleen turns to Azzi, a look of unmistakable concern on her face as she makes a show of putting her hand against the darker-skinned girl’s forehead, “are you feeling okay?”

“Oh fudge off,” Azzi groans, swatting away her best friend’s hand

“Azzi let me get this straight, you’re telling me you asked your e-x-g-i-r-l-f-r-i-e-n-d to join your team?”

“Look at you spelling Col, I’m so proud of you-”

“Don’t start,” Colleen shoots her a look and Azzi sighs, “what happened to going into Ohemaa’s office and making sure that didn’t happen?”

“I did what I had to,” Azzi shrugs, “I put the team first.”

“And what about-”

“Colleen please,” Azzi begs softly, a wave of tiredness washing over her, “it’s done okay. And it might not even matter. She might not even say yes.”

Colleen opens her mouth and then sighs, seeing something in Azzi’s face that convinces her not to push. There isn’t anyone else in the world who knows Azzi better than her best friend, except maybe the woman they’re talking about. Paige would’ve pushed, she always had. Pushed and pushed until Azzi was letting herself free fall off a cliff, only harnessed by Paige’s promise to catch her before she hit the ground. And then one day Azzi had unclipped the harness, and it was their relationship that had come crashing down. 

“Mama,” Stephie’s inquisitive voice calls from behind and Azzi hums in response, starting up her car, “you knew Miss Bueckers when she was littler right?”

“I knew her when she was younger,” Azzi corrects gently and knew feels like an understatement. They’d lived in each other’s skin, carving themselves onto parts of each other they hadn’t even known existed until the other had come along. 

“Same thing Mama,” Stephie huffs, “was she still so pretty then?”

And as pictures of a younger Paige, beautiful and vibrant like the sun shining on the pavement after a thunderstorm, dance through her mind, Azzi can’t stop the soft smile that flitters across her face. 

“She’s always been the prettiest.”

***

Paige isn’t feeling particularly talkative when her phone rings, Talia’s name flashing on the CallerID. Her senses are still drowned in all things Azzi and she’s not quite ready to be rescued from the ocean of memories that have suddenly flooded her entire being. She wants to lose herself in them, let herself be drawn back to what was. Paige has spent the better part of the last decade running away from her past but today, for the first time, all she wants is to let this slideshow of nostalgia keep on playing through her mind. 

“Talia if you’re calling just to say I told you so,” Paige sneers into the phone, finally picking it up after the ringing starts to give her a mild headache. She’d texted Thalia almost immediately after speaking to Azzi, a simple i think i could make the Valks work, purposely leaving out what, or more precisely who, had convinced her. 

“I would never,” Talia says with a hint of amusement, “if I started telling you I told you so after every time I was right, I fear I’d never have anything else to say to you because I am in fact, always right.”

Paige rolls her eyes, “alright then if you’re done gloating.”

“I didn’t call to gloat,” the manager’s voice is more serious now, “I called to tell you that I talked to the Liberty and they have an offer.”

“The Liberty don’t have cap space,” Paige says slowly, stomach suddenly queasy.

“They don’t have cap space this season,” Talia corrects, “but things are gonna change for them with Sabrina retiring after this season and they can move a couple of other things around to give us what we want next season.”

“What exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying that the Valkyries don’t have to be anything more than a pit stop. I know I pressured you into this but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been trying to figure something else out for you behind the scenes.”

“And I assume you’ve talked to Ohemaa too then?”

Talia scoffs, “do I look like an amateur agent to you? Of course I have. This works for them too. If all goes to plan, they have the rights to Atlanta’s #3 pick in the draft and if the mocks have gotten it right, they’ll get Angie Davis.”

“The Stanford PG,” Paige breathes out. 

“Exactly. She’ll get a year developing under you and then hopefully they won’t need you next year. And you won’t need them. Everybody wins.”

It sounds like the perfect solution. The Valkyrie’s would get what they need out of her and she’d get what she needed out of them. Then they’d part ways and Paige’s past would no longer be a factor in her present once she got to New York. One year and then everything would fall into place the way she’d wanted it to. It should fill her with excitement or relief or maybe even both but instead Paige feels nothing but unease, like she’s sealing herself to a fate of never truly having a home. 

She rubs a tired hand across her face, “what if I don’t want to leave after a year?”

“Then we can talk about it in a year. You’re not signing anything other than a one-year contract with the Valkyries right now and letting both them and the Liberty know that you're keeping your options open,” Talia says, her tone perfectly business-like. 

“Good,” Paige lets out a small sigh of relief at knowing she isn’t about to get herself legally bound to anything, “that’s good.”

“Why don’t you sound more happy about this Paige?” an irritated timbre slips into Talia’s words, “you were practically begging me to find you a way out of this and now that I have, it seems like you would rather I hadn’t.”

“The Valkyries are a good organization. Good front office, good GM, good coach, good facilities and you know how much I’ve always loved the Bay Area. Every time we’ve come here to play, the atmosphere has always been amazing. This place breathes basketball and I just wanna be a part of that,” and Paige means every word of it, even if there are other reasons at play.

“But you already knew all of that before you went down there Paige so cut the bullshit. Why exactly are you suddenly on board with all of this?” Talia asks, her voice hardening and Paige hates that her manager, who had really been more of a friend for the last couple of years, knows her just a little too well. 

“I met someone-”

“Oh fucking hell,” Talia groans, “please tell me you’re not making career decisions with your pussy.”

“Don’t be crude Talia. After all these years, I think you’d know me better than that. I met a little girl,” an uncontrollably smitten grin flickers across Paige’s face as she thinks back to her conversation with Stephie, “and she- she made some good points about why I should be a Golden State Valkyrie. You’d be surprised how smart little kids are these days.”

Thalia’s voice is drenched in skepticism when she speaks again, “you met a little girl? Where?”

“At the Valkyries training facilities,” as soon as she says it Paige wishes she’d lied. 

“What was a little girl doing at-,” another loud groan echoes through Paige’s phone and she can practically picture her agent fighting back the urge to facepalm, “please tell me you’re not talking about Azzi Fudd’s daughter.”

“I can’t tell you that,” Paige says, trying to keep her voice light.

“Jesus fucking christ Paige so you are thinking with your pussy then. You’re telling me you wanna join GSV because your ex-girlfriend’s daughter thinks you should? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

No, Paige thinks, I want to join because my ex-girlfriend thinks I should. Except she’s pretty sure that wouldn’t go over any better with Talia. She knows it sounds insane, knows it’s a little pathetic the power Azzi still has over her, knows that it should have taken more than just Azzi’s little speech to change her adamant no into a resounding yes. But the truth is that the only good reason she’d even had to not want to go to GSV, was rooted in Azzi and once Azzi had removed that barrier, the decision had never seemed clearer. 

“You said it yourself Tals. It’s been years. This isn’t about her and me. It’s about basketball and it’s about winning,” Paige says finally, even if the words don’t sit sound right as they waterfall out of her mouth. 

“So this has nothing to do with Azzi Fudd?” Talia inquires. 

“Nothing other than the fact that she’s the best shooting guard in the country and together we can be the best backcourt in the WNBA. Azzi Fudd,” it’s the first time Paige has said her name in a long time and it ignites a fire on the tip of her tongue “is my past and she’ll never be anything more than a future teammate, not again. Besides,” Paige’s stomach churns as the next words leave her mouth, “like you said. GSV doesn’t have to be anything more than a temporary pit stop.”

***

Putting away her weights, Azzi uses her forearm to wipe away the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She hides a smile as her eyes fall on Stephie. A look of pure concentration marks her daughter’s face as she puts her full little body into lifting a set of 2kg weights. It’s become their Sunday routine. Azzi comes to the Valkyrie’s fitness center to train and Stephie follows along, pitter pattering behind Azzi and trying to mimic every exercise her mother attempts. 

“Mama,” Stephie gushes as she catches Azzi’s eyes in the mirror, “I did twenty today. I think I can do the 3kg ones next time.”

Azzi laughs, walking over and bending down to give the little girl a high-5, “oh yeah? You think you’re ready to move onto the next level.”

“Yeah I am!” Stephie cheers, trying to flex her biceps, “look how big they’re getting.”

“Oh my god baby they’re almost bigger than mine,” Azzi says dramatically, flexing her own arms right next to Stephie’s. 

“Just give me a year,” Stephie promises, giggling as she wraps her arms around her mother’s neck, “I’m gonna be the strongest Fudd.”

Azzi lifts her up with ease, pressing a delicate kiss against her daughter’s hair as the little girl settles into her side, hands immediately playing with the “S” necklace around Azzi’s neck. 

“When Miss Buecks joins your team, do you think she can come ex-cise with us too?” Stephie asks shyly and Azzi sighs as she grabs for her gym bag. 

She should have expected the question really. In the hours that had passed since Stephie had met Paige, the older woman’s name seemed to have risen to the top of the little girl’s vocabulary. Every little thing they’d done since had been accompanied by the mention of Miss Buecks, either a plea to have Paige join them next time or Stephie gushing about how she just knew Miss Buecks would be good at this too. 

“You know kid, I’m beginning to think you might like Miss Buecks more than me,” Azzi teases with a lightheartedness she doesn’t feel. But she won’t let her own discomfort bleed into Stephie’s excitement. 

“Don’t be silly Mama,” Stephie pulls at Azzi’s cheeks, “you’ll always be my favoritest.”

Don’t worry Az, you’ll always be my most favorite. It’s Paige's voice that echoes through her mind, casual and carefree and so, so honest. And she needs to stop doing this, needs to stop her brain from tying her present to the threads of her past, needs to stop her heart from letting Stephie and Paige be pieces of the same puzzle. It’s a dangerous wish she’d let bloom in secret for years but not all wishes are meant to come true, some are meant to tragically wilter in the darkness until they turn into a wistful what if. 

A shrill “MISS BUECKS,” breaks Azzi out of her thoughts as the child in her arms starts to wriggle out of her grasp the minute they step out of the fitness center. As soon as Stephie manages to get on the ground, she’s running before Azzi can get a word out to stop her. And all Azzi can do is watch as Paige turns around at the call of her name, neutral face breaking into a luminescent smile as she catches sight of Stephie running towards her. 

“MISS BUECKS,” Stephie squeals again, tiny hands outstretched as she picks up speed. 

“STEPHIE,” Paige matches the excitement in the little girl’s voice, swinging her into her arms and spinning her around before finally holding her firm against her hip. 

“I missed you,” Stephie confesses, “did you miss me?”

Paige's eyes soften as she nuzzles Stephies nose, “of course I did.”

Azzi feels paralyzed as she watches the scene unfold in front of her. Stephie excitedly chatters about some random topic and Paige seems mesmerized by the most mundane stories. And Azzi’s not sure if she’s floating or sinking, but she knows if she lets them, the tears begging to be released from her eyes could flood everything around her. Her hands fist of their own accord as she takes a step towards Paige and Stephie and it’s like a nightmare and a daydream all at once. 

“Mama look,” Stephie notices her first, “Miss Buecks is here.”

Paige looks over Stephie’s head and as cerulean blue eyes pierce into Azzi’s dark brown ones, she wonders if Paige is thinking of it too, of the future they used to talk about while curled up in one of their UConn dorms as their hands traced forever into each other’s palms.

“I can see that Steph,” she musters up a polite smile, “Hi Paige.”

She gets an equally polite smile back in return, “Hi Azzi.”

Her name sounds different on Paige’s lips and Azzi misses the way Paige’s eyes used to twinkle just saying it, the way her lips would curl around that one word like it carried the meaning of life itself. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie turns Paige’s face away from Azzi, hand resting against her cheek, “did you say yes to joining Mama’s team?”

Paige’s eyes flicker towards Azzi again, before coming back to rest on the hopeful little girl, “I did. I just signed the contract.”

Stephie screams, arms wrapping around Paige’s neck and Azzi expects Paige to at least flinch, but the blonde simply laughs, hugging Azzi’s little girl back with equal fervor. 

“I take it you’re happy,” Paige whispers. 

“I’m-,” Stephie crawls out from Paige’s neck to look at Azzi, “Mama what’s that big word you use es-est-”

“Ecstatic,” Azzi whispers, trying to pretend that Paige’s announcement hasn’t knocked the wind out of her. Hell has just become official and Azzi had personally invited it. 

“I’m es-tatic that you’re joining Mama’s team Miss Buecks. I told Mama that I knew you would. I'm gonna cheer so loud for you,” Stephie says, unaware that her innocent words feel like shards of broken glass piercing at Azzi’s skin. 

“That makes me ecstatic Stephie,” Paige says softly but there’s a hint of something else there that Azzi can’t quite place; the realization that she’s no longer as well-versed in the notes of Paige’s voice hits her like a hailstorm. 

“Welcome to Golden State,” she manages to stutter out and Paige’s eyes drift to her before warily looking down to her outstretched hands, “I think we’ll make a good team.”

“I’m counting on it,” Paige nods as she reaches out the hand that’s not holding Stephie. And the moment they touch, it’s still electric, like lightning during the first thunderstorm after a drought. They stare at each other and Azzi wonders if Paige is thinking it too, thinking that if only they’d held on like this eight years ago when they should have. Blinking away droplets of what happened to you and me forever, Azzi reluctantly lets go of Paige’s hand, ignoring the way the feeling of it still lingers, like it’s destined to etch itself onto Azzi’s palms. 

“Well Stephie bear, I think it’s time for us to go home,” she says slowly. 

Stephie crinkles her nose, “we’re not going home Mama. We’re getting ice cream,” she turns to Paige with a serious expression on her face, “we always get ice cream after ex-cise. Mama says it’s good for the soul.”

“She’s right. Ice cream is good for the soul,” Paige smiles, giving Azzi a knowing look. 

“OH,” Stephie shrieks, “Miss Buecks you should come with us so we can cel-bate you coming to Mama’s team.”

Azzi’s eyes widen, immediately getting ready to shut that dreadful idea down, “Miss Buecks is busy baby and she probably wants to celebrate with her own family.”

And if the word family makes Paige flinch, Azzi pretends she doesn’t notice. 

“You don’t wanna cel-bate with me Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks and Azzi knows that even if Paige had intended to decline Stephie’s offer, once her daughter gives her those big sad eyes, the already people-pleasing blonde won’t say no. 

“Nobody else I’d rather celebrate with,” Paige caves and Azzi sighs, switching her bag to her other shoulder. Some things would never change. Some things about Paige, she would always be able to predict. 

“Yay,” Stephie cheers, finally slipping down from Paige’s lap, only so she can lace one hand in Paige’s and the other in Azzi’s, “let’s go cel-bate.”

***

It’s the first time they’ve been in a car together in a decade, and still the instinct to reach out and grab Azzi’s hand as she drives, prickles against Paige’s fingertips. She tries to focus on the road ahead, tries to focus on whatever story Stephie is telling from the backseat, tries to focus on anything but the woman in the driver’s seat who used to be her passenger princess. 

“You’ve turned into a pretty good driver,” she quips slowly, trying to lighten the tension between them, “I’m only just a little bit scared for my life right now.”

Azzi cracks a small smile, “are you ready to admit I’m a better driver than you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Mama’s the best driver in the world,” Stephie chimes in loyally, “was she a bad driver when she was littler?”

“Younger,” Azzi corrects immediately, “and I was always a good driver, Steph. Don’t listen to Miss Buecks.”

Paige scoffs, “don’t believe her Stephie. She once nearly killed me.”

“I did not. I can’t believe you’re lying to my child.”

“Am I?” Paige cocks her head, “so you didn’t nearly back into me that one time during Christmas?”

“That doesn’t count,” Azzi protests, “I didn’t even know you were coming to surprise me. How was I supposed to know you were going to be right outside the garage door while I was trying to pull out.”

“There are these things on your car called mirrors Azzi, think maybe you should try and use them sometimes.”

“It was dark and I was in a hurry.”

“Where could you possibly have had to go that late on Christmas?”

“I was going to surprise you,” Azzi exclaims, “but you beat me to it so,” her voice fades off as an awkward silence cuts into the easy banter. The memory of that night is clear in Paige’s mind. Christmas 2021 when they’d been teetering on the edge between something and everything. They’d decided they’d meet up the day after Christmas to exchange presents, leaving the day of it just for their families. But the whole day had passed and Paige had been consumed by nothing but missing Azzi. And as soon as night fell, her mind was made up to go see her best friend. She hadn't known just how much Azzi had missed her too. Not until now. It’s funny, Paige thinks, they’d once been the kind of people who didn’t know how to exist when they spent a day apart. Now they were the kind of people who’d fought to spend nearly a decade apart.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie cuts in again, voice inquisitive, and Paige doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of hearing the little girl call for her; it fills her with a warmth she didn’t even know she had the capacity to feel, “Mama said you’ve always been the prettiest, even when you were littler.”

Paige’s eyes dart to Azzi, a smirk playing on her lips as she watches a pink hue spread across the brunette’s cheeks, “she said that?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, hands tightening on the steering wheel as she finally maneuvers into a parking lot. 

“She did,” Stephie confirms, “and she said you were really good at bask-ball and really smart. And then Aunty Leen said something in her ear and Mama got all shy.”

“Right Stephanie. I think that’s enough talk about what Mama said,” Azzi says as she finishes parking and starts to unbuckle her seatbelt, muttering something about inflated egos under her breath. 

“Nah Stephie,” Paige grins as gets out of the car, “I like hearing what your Mama said about me.”

It earns her a glare from Azzi and that only makes her smile harder. Paige is no stranger to praise and compliments but it’s always meant just a little more when it came from Azzi. And she’d never admit it to anyone but every time she’d come across a clip of Azzi praising her over the last couple years, she’d let the clip loop for far longer than she should have.

“You know what Bueckers,” Azzi says, “you’re buying our ice cream.”

“That’s not fair Mama,” Stephie chides, “we’re here to cel-bate Miss Buecks. It’s her treat so you have to pay.”

“Yeah Azzi, it’s my treat so you have to pay,” Paige mimics, high-fiving a beaming Stephie. 

Azzi looks between the two of them, an offended expression on her face, “my own daughter,” she gasps, “betraying me. I see how it is.”

“You’re the one who says we have to be fair,” Stephie says, nudging her mother slightly so she can clutch her hand and then turns to look up at Paige, “was Mama really pretty when she was littler?”

“Younger” Azzi corrects again, before focusing on Paige, “and you don’t have to answer that. She’s seen photos of me from before.”

“But I wanna know from Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines. 

“Stephie,” Azzi warns, an edge to her voice. 

“She was the most beautiful girl in the world,” Paige says softly and two sets of dark brown eyes immediately flash up to her. The California sunshine makes Azzi glow but really that’s nothing new; Azzi has always been the brightest star, at least in Paige’s galaxy, and she can’t help but let the next words slip through her lips, “she still is.”

***

Azzi thinks Paige has never really known the impact of her own words. Whether it was the missiles she fired when angry or the shower of flower petals when she was feeling complimentary. And it seems like time has done nothing to change that because Paige continues to walk towards the ice cream parlor with absolutely no recognition of how Azzi’s heart has just burst into flames. 

She still is. 

It shouldn’t affect her the way it does, shouldn’t elicit any reaction more than just a cocky smirk but instead those three little words seem to imprint themselves on her cochlear, ringing around her like static as she tries to keep a façade of nonchalance. 

The ice cream parlor is bursting with people and it doesn’t take long before both Azzi and Paige are being asked for pictures. Protective instinct kicking in, Azzi reaches to grab for Stephie to keep her from getting lost in the crowd, only to find her already securely tucked into Paige’s side. Azzi watches as Paige interacts with the fans -she’s always been a natural at that- and somehow manages to keep Stephie entertained at the same time, conspiratorially whispering things to her in between interactions and making her giggle. It hurts and heals something inside her at the same time. The thing is, since Stephie was born, Azzi has done this whole thing alone and she’s never regretted it, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a part of her that hasn’t always wished for a partner, someone else who would protect her little girl with her. Like Paige is right now. But this is a mirage, a fever dream that isn’t Azzi’s to dream. 

So she looks away and hides her tears behind a dazzling smile for a photo with a fan. She’s gotten incredibly good at that. 

“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks excitedly when they finally manage to reach the counter.

“Oh um-” Paige scratches at her neck, “I like cookies and cream.”

Azzi guffaws at the lie, “your favorite flavor is cookies and cream?”

“Yes Azzi,” Paige glares, “I love cookies and cream.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow before dropping her voice down to a whisper, “why are you lying?”

Paige sighs, “I don’t want Stephie to think I’m weird.”

“Oh Paige,” Azzi can’t help but smile before turning to Stephie, “Steph what flavor are you getting?”

“Mint chocolate chip,” Stephie says excitedly, eyes fixated on the green ice cream and Paige’s mouth falls open a little bit as Azzi smirks at her. 

She turns to the cashier, “we’ll have open mint chocolate chip, one strawberry and one-”

“One more mint chocolate chip please,” Paige cuts in and both Azzi and Stephie look at her. 

“I thought you wanted cookies and cream Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks with a confused expression and Azzi barely manages to bite back her laugh. 

“I uh-,” Paige begins sheepishly, “I didn’t know they had mint chocolate chip. That’s my most favorite.”

Stephie is contemplatively quiet for a minute before a grin breaks out on her face, “Mama did you know Miss Buecks and I have the same favorite ice-cream flavor?”

“I had absolutely no idea,” Azzi says, winking at Paige as she pays for their ice cream. 

They opt to sit outside on one of the picnic benches overlooking the nearby park. Azzi is distinctly aware of how they might look to anyone walking by right now, like a family. Normally, ice cream Sundays are spent with Stephie rambling and Azzi listening but this time Stephie has someone who’s just as much of a chatterbox as she is. Paige hangs on to every word that comes out of the little girl’s mouth, answering questions and giving replies as if this is the most important conversation of her life. 

“Mama and I go to Stanford games all the time,” Stephie’s saying as Azzi tries to get out of her own head and zone into the conversation instead, “I’m gonna be a- what’s it called again Mama?”

“A Cardinal,” Azzi supplies helpfully. 

“I’m gonna be a Card-nal,” Stephie says and Paige gasps, turning to Azzi. 

“Oh my god you’ve raised a traitor,” she moans, shaking her head. 

Stephie scrunches her face, looking rather offended by that moniker, “I’m not a tray-tor.”

“Steph sweetheart look at me,” Paige says, her voice the epitome of seriousness as she holds the younger girl by her shoulders, “what are we?”

“Humans?” Stephie asks innocently and Azzi laughs.

“No Stephie we,” Paige uses her finger to point at her and Azzi, “we are Huskies. UConn Huskies. And what do we bleed?”

“Oh I know this one,” Stephie says excitedly, “we bleed blue.”

“So do you wanna be a boring old tree or do you wanna be a big, strong Husky who bleeds blue?”

“I wanna be a Husky,” Stephie cheers and Paige cheers along with her. Azzi rolls her eyes but it doesn't quite match the smile on her face. And then Stephie’s racing off to the swings, leaving Paige and Azzi alone for the first time in a long time. 

“Did you just manipulate my child into wanting to go to UConn?” she nudges Paige. 

“Of course not. I just made her understand what’s best for her and that’s UConn,” Paige nudges her back, “just like it was for you.”

“Yeah, it was,” Azzi says softly and they both know she means a lot more than just UConn.

“You um- you have a little bit of ice cream,” Paige points nervously to the edge of Azzi’s lip, hands reaching and then hesitating. And Azzi knows that she should at least attempt to wipe it off herself but she stays deathly still as Paige’s thumb finally makes its way to her face. It’s a featherlight touch that the blonde traces across her lips, their eyes transfixed on each other, neither of them breathing. And they’ve had far more intimate moments than this one but something about this, right here, feels apocalyptic. 

“I meant what I said before,” Paige whispers, “you’re still the most beautiful girl in the world.”

She gulps before starting to move away and Azzi feels a panic course through her blood as she hurriedly grabs the blonde’s hand. And she’s not supposed to do this; she should tell Paige not to say things like that but instead she’s  pulling the blonde closer, hand firmly clasped around her wrist. 

“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, like she wants to stop and start something at the same time. They’ve never really known self-control when it comes to each other. 

“I meant what I said to Stephie too,” Azzi whispers, “you’ve always been the prettiest.”

***

September 2029 

Wings 82 Valkyries 77

Paige almost falls to her knees as the buzzer sounds around the arena. The crowd is on their feet cheering as the Dallas Wings beat the Golden State Valkyries in a hard-fought semi-finals game 5 to advance to the WNBA finals. It takes a brief second and suddenly she has teammates circling all around her as they bask in their well-earned glory. 

“One more series to go. Wings in three,” Satou cheers and the whole team echoes after her. They’re not known to be the closest of teams but at this moment, they almost feel like family. 

Paige is exhausted as she’s ushered to do a sideline interview and she tries really hard to keep the irritation off her face when she realizes it’s Holly Rowe. The questions are generic and some are downright annoying, but Paige’s media training has always been stellar, and despite the fatigue rolling off her body, her answers are heartfelt and charismatic. The interview can’t be longer than three minutes but it feels like a lifetime before she’s finally walking away. Focused on the ground beneath her and trying not to cave into the exhaustion on her way to the media room, Paige doesn’t notice when she goes barrelling into a firm body. 

“Shit I’m so-” the words are stolen from her mouth as Tim Fudd turns around but it’s not him that attracts Paige’s attention. It’s the little girl cradled in his arms, a little girl who looks exactly like the fact that still haunts all of Paige’s memories. Tiny brown eyes stare up at her and Paige is mesmerized by this tiny creature who seems like she could captivate the whole world if she wanted to. 

“Congratulations Paige,” Tim says slowly and Paige tears her eyes away from the baby to look at the man who had once been the person who made it a mission to make her laugh whenever she was on the verge of crying, “I’m really proud of you kid.”

Paige’s eyes sting and she doesn’t know if she wants to run away or beg Tim to give her one of his patented bear hugs, “thank you. It really does mean a lot. She-,” her eyes flicker back down to the little tiny bean, “she’s beautiful.”

“Yeah she is,” pride shines in Tim’s voice, “you wanna hold her?”

“Oh no it’s ok-” Paige begins but before she can finish, there’s a baby being placed in her arms and everything around her seems to come to a standstill. 

“Her name’s Stephanie,” Tim says softly and Paige laughs because of course, of course Azzi would name her daughter Stephanie. 

“Hi Stephanie,” Paige coos, reaching out a finger to tickle the little girl, gasping when Stephanie's small chubby hands grasp it. And then the baby giggles, smiling at Paige as if she’s given her a gift and Paige swears she’s never loved a sound more in her life. 

“Can you hold her for a second while I go find Katie?” Tim asks and Paige shakes her head in panic but he’s already off before she can stop him. And then it’s just her and Stephanie, standing outside the media room. There’s people cluttering in and out of the rooms around her, the whole lobby is bustling with sounds but all Paige can focus on is the girl in her arms. 

“You’re so cute,” Paige whispers in a baby voice and Stephanie giggles, “yes you are, yes you are. I wanna steal you so bad.”

“I don’t think you can win a WNBA championship from jail,” a familiar voice says from behind her and Paige feels her stomach tying itself in knots as she turns to look at Azzi, “maybe try and kidnap my child after the finals?”

There’s a smile playing on Azzi’s lips but a storm brewing in her eyes and Paige knows that if she rests a heart against the darker-skinned girl, she’ll find it beating to the same hyper rhythm as Paige’s. 

“Congratulations Paige,” Azzi says softly as she takes another step towards her, “you guys deserved it.”

“Y’all made it hard as hell-I mean shit-no fuck,” Paige swears and the child in her arms giggles as a litany of curses fall from her mouth. 

Azzi bites her lip, raising her eyebrows in mock exasperation, “in front of my kid? Seriously Bueckers?”

Paige winces, ready to apologize until Stephanie begins to babble “B-buecks,” she giggles, clapping her hands, unaware of how the two adults in her vicinity both freeze, “Buecks. Buecks. Buecks.”

“Yeah sweetheart,” tears prickle against Paige’s waterline, “that’s me,” she looks up at Azzi whose own eyes are watery, “she said my name.”

“Yeah,” Azzi’s voice wobbles, “yeah she did. She’s- she’s a quick learner.”

“Just like her Mama,” Paige whispers, staring at Azzi and she wants to freeze them in this moment, like a still-motion picture she can hang up on her walls and keep with her forever. 

“Mama,” Stephanie burbles, eyes darting between the two women, “Mama. Buecks. Buecks. Mama.”

“You’re so smart Stephanie,” Paige whispers to the little girl, tickling her stomach. She looks up at Azzi with a smile only to find the brunette frowning at Paige’s hand. Confused Paige follows the line of sight until her own eyes catch onto the diamond that’s shining on her ring finger and she can feel her heart drop, “Az-”

“The media’s waiting for you Paige,” Azzi says, the lightness of a few seconds ago replaced with a hard edge. 

“Azzi,” Paige whispers again and she doesn’t know why her tone sounds pleading, doesn’t even know what she’d pleading for but she can feel something slip away from her again. 

“You probably want to go celebrate with your wife,” Azzi spits out the last word like it tastes bitter and sour at the same time, and it lands somewhere in between them, creating a wall that puts them on different sides. And Paige should let it go; she should pretend it’s just a normal sentence uttered without any malice, should pretend that she can no longer read the cadences of Azzi’s voice but instead of putting up a shield, she shoots an arrow. 

“You don’t get to say it like that,” Paige hisses. 

“I didn’t say it like any-”

“Yes you did and you don’t get to do that,” Paige presses, “not when you didn’t want to marry me.”

Azzi flinches. The words, soaked in mistakes of the past, hang like a dagger in between them, ready to sever the thin thread of cordiality that they have tried desperately to maintain. 

“You’re right,” Azzi says finally, her voice ice cold as she reaches for Stephanie, “I didn’t want to marry you,” the dagger twists, “so how about you give me my child back and go find the woman who did.”

[shadowdaddies]

ooh could i request azriel x reader where the inner circle are not-so-subtlety playing matchmaker between the two, to the point where it’s awkwardly painful. however, they’re completely unaware of the fact that azriel and the reader have been together for over a year now, very much aware of the inner circle’s shenanigans and find the whole situation amusing 💗

lol this is so funny and def something Az would do, thanks for the request honey

Behind Closed Doors

Azriel x Reader fluff

Warnings: a lil steamy at the end but nothing explicit

You looked across the dinner table to see Feyre smiling at you with a familiar gleam in her eye as she sipped her drink. Arching a questioning brow at her, you watched as her eyes flicked between you and Azriel, who was seated next to you at the table. 

You rolled your eyes, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture at her implication. The entire Inner Circle loved to tease you and Azriel, remarking on what a great couple the two of you would make. What they didn’t realize is that the two of you had been together for nearly two years now. 

You’d initially held off on telling your friends about the relationship because you wanted time to get to know each other without pressure from them, but the natural connection that you had with Azriel led to teasing nonetheless. 

Sometimes it was more subtle, like Feyre’s knowing glances, and sometimes the teasing was more obvious - such as now, when Mor suggested that everyone go dancing after dinner, Cassian’s comment that it would be a perfect excuse for Azriel and you to get your hands on each other.

As Rhys and Feyre chastised Cassian for his crude remark, you hid your smirk behind your hand as you brushed your hand against Azriel’s thigh under the table.

You spent the evening dancing at Rita’s, playing up the one dance that you had with Azriel, the two of you laughing at the obliviousness of your friends who had no idea about your relationship. When you finally had the chance, you whispered in Azriel’s ear, “Cassian wasn’t wrong earlier, about me wanting to get my hands on you.” Az smirked at you, glancing back at your friends before he murmured in your ear, “I’ll meet you back at your place.”

You rejoined your friends at the booth where everyone was sitting, Azriel excusing himself to leave for the night while you stayed behind for a few minutes to avoid suspicion. After one more dance with Nesta and Feyre, you announced that you were leaving for the night, hurrying out to the door in your excitement to see Azriel.

The moment you opened the door to your apartment, Azriel pulled you into his arms, kicking the door shut behind you as he lifted you against the wall. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him in for a passionate kiss as he ground against you, eliciting a loud moan that masked the sound of the door opening beside you.

A wolf whistle abruptly dragged you from your lust-filled state, Azriel letting out a protective snarl as the two of you turned to the door, now open as Cassian and Nesta leaned against either side of the frame with huge grins on their faces. Nesta waved your wallet in the air, laughing as she teased you, “I saw that you forgot your wallet, so we came to make sure you were taken care of getting home safely.” She turned to Az, looking him up and down as she continued, “looks like you are definitely being taken care of.” 

Azriel’s cheeks flushed as you turned to him, laughing softly as you shrugged your shoulders. “Well, I guess there’s no hiding our relationship now.”

[fruitmins]

Agust Dad—Nine

➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party- one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry

➭ genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au

➭ warnings: angst but also not that angsty??, rushed to edit this so WILL have mistakes, self hate talk, poor communication skills

<next part>

note: wow been a while. in the months i’ve been gone it’s turned into a new year and i’ve just recently turned the age of a legal adult (hooray?). how have you guys been? this chapter hit a lil too personally as someone who cannot communicate and pushes ppl out so i hope y’all like it😭🫰🏾again taglist is: closed.

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy @llallaaa @ghostlyworld @roguesthetic @captainchrisstan @bxcndd @lukeys-giggle @mint--yoongs @hyunjaespresent-deobi @yes-suga @gimeow @coffeedepressionsoup @mixedfandxms

You were stupid.

As much as you wanted to gaslight yourself into the thinking that the few days of silence is just what you need to clear your mind and have some space after all of the hectic chaos going around, it wasn’t as peaceful as you hoped. The silence started to turn more uncomfortable, becoming deafening and depressing quickly.

So on the third day, when the ringing of the doorbell broke the silence, somewhere inside the self pity you had been drowning in the last couple of days was grateful.

It’s short lived.

Being the baby mama of a famous Kpop idol billionaire, you knew it was only a matter of time before someone came knocking and looking for you sooner or later. That part you guessed. What was making you nervous was the fact that you didn’t know who was going to come.

Was it a crazy fan who somehow managed to find out where you stayed (which was still in Yoongi’s house, ironically)? Was it a member of BTS themselves? Or worst of all, was it Yoongi.

The thought made you so nervous and sick to your stomach. Out of all the awkward interactions you were avoiding the one with Yoongi the most, though that wasn’t hard to do recently. You had kicked him out and broke your only form of communication aka your phone.

There’s a knock on the door a couple seconds later, not a doorbell, a knock. Then another, and another. There is a sense of urgency to the knocks, like whoever is at the door is afraid to wait any longer before trying to speak to you.

You finally get up from the bed, your legs shaking a little bit from standing. You move slowly towards the door, trying to calm your nerves.

It is too silent outside the door, and you have no idea about the identity of the person standing outside. It can be anyone, and in a way, it's scary but you have half a brain to look through the peephole to prepare yourself for whoever it is.

Your eyes widen and your face pales when you see a familiar face, one you hadn’t really thought about. Harin.

She doesn’t look her best which was unlike her. Usually she’d have on at least a bit of makeup and dress nicely, no matter where she was or where she was going. She was classy, and always had on a caring, bright smile. No matter how much struggle it was being in the spotlight because of Jin or being away from Jin because of his job, she was strong. She was everything you wanted to be, you in an alternate universe where you had met Yoongi under the right circumstances.

But looking at her now, on your doorstep with very noticeable eyebags and a dying look of worry, some guilt hits you, and all you want to do is throw the door open and cry into her arms. You had always kept people and friends at a distance, it felt so different to want to seek out someone’s comfort. Maybe this is what it was like to trust and care heavily about people, you didn’t know. Everything nowadays was new to you.

You slowly open the door with a shaky hand, your heart skipping a beat when her head snaps over to the sound of it finally opening.

“Harin..” her name slips from your mouth in a shaky breathless voice. Harin nods, her entire face filled with compassion and worry. One look at you and she can see that you haven't been doing well at all and you can only imagine the amount of pity she’s feeling.

She looks at you for a moment before speaking softly. "I heard about everything that's been going on, please... let me come inside." Her voice is calm and reassuring, as if trying to be as gentle as possible with you. She was treating you as a time bomb, and as much as you wanted that to anger you, it was impossible to be mad at her.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, you want to tell her it’s not a good time or something. You want to turn her away, like you do with everyone else in your life, like you did with Yoongi. You want to go back to drowning in your sorrows and depression until eventually you become a rock.

But she looks so emotional, so hurt. And suddenly you don’t have the balls to push her away. For the first time ever, you let someone in. You let someone help you instead of pushing them out.

“Okay.” You say weakly, barely being able to direct your voice to her. You open the door more and move to the side so she can come inside.

Harin nods, her eyes widening as she steps inside before closing the door behind her quietly. She doesn't say anything more, going directly towards you. Without warning, she enfolds you in a warm and gentle hug.

"Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry for everything," she whispers passionately, rubbing the top of your back. "I-I'm just so sorry." Her voice is small but filled with emotion.

The sudden hug catches you off guard, and to your own surprise you melt immediately into the warm comforting embrace.

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?” You ask, fighting back a smile as you hug her back tightly.

Harin lets out a sigh. "So, So many things," she whispers. "I'm sorry you're going through this right now, I'm sorry I haven't been there for you enough. I-"

She can't continue, her words choking her up but you are quick to shake your head dismissively anyways. “Stop. If anything I should be sorry. I took the spotlight off of you and Jin’s special accomplishment. I messed up your proposal and I’ll probably just mess up your wedding too so you shouldn’t even invite-“

“Stop,” she’s the one to say it this time, frowning and shaking her head. “You’re absolutely going to be at my wedding. You’re my best friend.” She says passionately, pulling away from the hug to look you in your eyes. “I'm not letting you go through this alone, no matter how hard things get..."

“Thank you, Harin.” You respond in a whisper, your heart fluttering as you pull her back into the hug tightly. Seconds after there’s a small stab of pain in your stomach, causing me to groan and close your eyes and lean onto her for support.

Harin flinches as she feels your sudden

movement towards her, then notices your hand grab onto your stomach. Her heart sinks when she realizes what it means, her eyes flaring with shock and concern.

"Your stomach... does it hurt?" she asks softly, her voice filled with worry for you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah..” you take a step back to ground yourself. “Just been stressed lately.” You mumble, trying but failing to reassure her.

"I know the feeling..." Harin whispers, still looking at your abdomen. “Come sit.” She says, holding your hand and ushering you to sit down.

“Thanks..” you mumble, slowly sitting onto the couch as Harin watches you closely as she helps you settle. "You sure everything with the baby is okay?" she whispers softly, her eyes filled with concern and worry.

“I think.” ‘I hope.’

“I don’t want to go outside, let alone a hospital.” You say with a sigh, looking up at Harin who gives you a sympathetic expression. She nods in understanding, “I know how you feel," she says quietly. "The outside can be so scary at times... especially when there are so many people watching your every move."

You let out a small smile and nod, of course Harin understood. You couldn’t imagine all she had been through when she first started dating Seokjin. It was a relief to have at least one person who knew what you were going through. Her and someone else.

“..How’s Yoongi?” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a tiny bit concerned curious about how he was doing. But you knew a part of you were asking from a place of guilt, some part of you knew you had overreacted the slightest bit. Because it was like you, to push people away when things got too serious.

Harin’s eyes widen in surprise, almost as if she was surprised you even brought him up. She blinks a few times before speaking. "I talked to him earlier today," she whispers softly.

She opens her mouth again, lashing hesitantly before actually saying anything. She looks at you for a few moments, debating on whether or not she should continue. She looks thoughtful for a moment - then lets out an exhausted sigh.

"He's been really worried about you," she states honestly, letting out a short breath. "He was really hurting when you kicked him out... honestly, he's not doing too well right now."

“Really?” You don’t want to admit that the news is sickening, because you still cared about him, despite everything. Harin nods, “Jin says it’s worse than when they first debuted. Overworking himself, not eating, not speaking.”

Your elbows go to your knees as you bury your face in your hands. To say you felt awful was an understatement. “I don’t know what to do, Harin. I just..I felt hurt. He kept something so big from me no matter what the reason.” You shake your head, swallowing nervously.

“What would you have done?”

She winced, thinking about if she was in your shoes. "I... I would have heard him out, before I made my decision," she says softly and you sigh, knowing she was probably right. "I understand that you felt betrayed," she admits. "But it wasn't intentional, he just didn't know how to talk to you..."

She looks at the ground, her voice softening even more. "He didn't know how to handle this... honestly, neither one of you do. But there's still a chance you can work things out if you talk to each other."

You swallow, tears welling up in your eyes as a bunch of emotions cloud your mind. “I don’t know how to do that Harin. How to communicate.”

Her face immediately softened, pulling you into another hug. “Give it as much time as you need for yourself," she continues. "Just don't shut him out... he wants to be there for you... just like I do."

Harin looks at you for a moment then smiles. "You're not alone now, okay?"

Your eyes go to the phone in pieces next to the wall at her words as your mind wanders to similar words.

i’m here now

The first stupid text that started everything. The text that you stupidly didn’t listen to. The stupid text that showed how horrible you were for not communicating when he was.

You were stupid.

[guitarstringed-scars]

the ravens eye diner- rintaro suna

masterlist

caprese sandwich

suna steps into the now familiar diner, smell of coffee greeting him. he steps up to the host stand, where an unfamiliar host stands. her long black hair is situated in a ponytail. ”hello, just one today?” she asks him as she grabs a menu and silverware for him.

he nods.

“yeah, could i request to not be in y/ns section?” he feels embarrassed asking, and even more embarrassed that he can’t get over this petty feud the two of you are caught up in.

the hostess looks a bit surprised. ”sure, but can i ask why? i’m the manager so i need to know if there is any issues.” she says.

now suna feels really embarrassed, and maybe a bit stressed. he wasn’t trying to get you fired or anything, he was just trying to avoid your slightly off putting stares and cold personality. usually the other hostess just nods, he had no idea this one was the manager.

she starts to lead him to a different corner of the room. ”just feels like she doesn’t really like me, i don’t wanna burden her.” he says, now trying to save your name.

“i’ll talk to her about that.” the manager says, a curious look on her face as she places his menu down on the booth table.

“oh, you really don’t have to.” he says sitting down, but when he looks up the manager is already gone. you are definitely going to hate him even more now.

“are you having problems with that customer?” kiyoko is standing behind you now, and you are caught off guard.

“what?” you say, turning from the toaster to face her.

“the guy? at table three? he asked to not be in your section and said that it was because you didn’t like him.”

no way this guy was claiming that the fighting was your fault.

“no, he’s the one who hates me.” you defend yourself.

kiyoko gives you a look of disappointment. you feel like you are being scolded by your mom for getting your nice clothes dirty.

“don’t you think you’re being a bit childish y/n? ” she asks pointedly.

you pout a bit. then you realize she’s right.

“maybe.”

“how do you know he hates you?” she asks.

“i don’t.”

“ok, then i’m gonna have you serve him today and you two are going to figure it out.” she says, starting to leave the kitchen. ”won’t he be mad?” you call after her.

“no, unless you treat him like you have been.”

then she’s gone and you are left alone in the kitchen with semi, who has been giggling to your conversation this whole time.

“shut up.” you say, rolling your eyes as you fill up sunas drink at the fountain.

“you already know what he wants to drink? enemies to lovers i guess.” semi jokes.

“seriously, shut up.” you leave the kitchen, face red at your coworkers comments.

you set down sunas drink on his table, careful not to spill anything. he looks up, surprised to see you.

“oh, i-” he starts.

“i’m sorry.” you cut in, not making direct eye contact. “i treated you badly because i thought you hated me.” his eyes widen.

“i don’t hate you, i thought you hated me.” he says.

“well i don’t hate you either.” you respond. you finally make eye contact and both of you give each other a smile.

“you kind of look like your mom just yelled at you and made you apologize.” he says, laughing a bit.

“if you change mom for manager then you’d be right.” you laugh with him. “did you want something to eat?”

“yeah, i’ll do the caprese sandwich.” he says.

“sounds good.” you say, scribbling down his order. when you ring it in, kiyoko comes up to you again.

“did you make up?” she asks you.

“yeah, you we’re right” you say, now in a much more cheerful mood. “i guess he doesn’t hate me.”

“funny how that works out.” kiyoko muses, giving you a knowing smile.

𖦹₊⊹fun facts⊹₊𖦹

-suna is glad kiyoko made y/n be his server

-even if he was really scared of her

-and really stressed he was going to get her fired.

taglist: @wyrcan @nbcvs @froyaoya @mylahrins @wizardhore

@chloiyoomi @causenessus @bubooo @lvtilzs @nishayuro

@diorzs @19calicos @seookki @chososcamgirl @euphorora

@hyenagoated @v1oletfury @mplesyrup @jojo23allegra @cherrypieyourface

@nayusw

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 17

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: you finally get a chance to paint Larissa (smut ensues).

words: ~ 3.1k | ao3 link in title

A/N: once again thank you to @afeatherformills for all of the planning and beta-ing, and to my gf as well. i drive both of them crazy and am eternally grateful that they haven't yet told me to stick this fic where the sun don't shine :')

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

That Saturday you were deep in thought as you navigated the halls of Nevermore, making your way to Larissa’s office. So deep in thought that you hardly noticed Enid walking past you.

“Hey!”

Your head snapped up and you looked around for the source of the voice. Finding it, your face softened and you stepped towards the blonde. “Enid. You okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, her face falling a bit. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks for convincing Weems not to expel us.”

You laughed. “I didn’t have to convince her of anything. Is she really that stern?”

Enid’s lips curled up into a smile. “Sometimes. She can be really cool, but sometimes she’s a bit scary.”

“I’m sure it’s just because she cares,” you replied - truth be told you’d seen Larissa’s ‘scary’ side in action when dealing Wednesday, and you could certainly understand Enid’s point. But as long as Larissa’s anger wasn’t directed at you, you thought your girlfriend was kind of hot when she was angry - a fact you decided to keep to yourself.

“Maybe.” Enid shrugged. “Say hi to Weems for me.”

“Sure,” you replied, feeling yourself blush. As you were about to say goodbye, you were struck with an idea. “Wait.”

You reached into your bag, with Enid watching you curiously as you pulled out your sketchbook and flipped to a random page, scribbling your number on it and tearing it out.

“Here. If you guys are in trouble again, you should have someone to call.” She took the paper with a shy smile. “I’m never going back out there again. But… thanks.” Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she entered your number and shot you a text. “Now you have mine, too.”

“Thanks. Stay safe, Enid,” you teased gently, earning yourself a giggle from the young girl.

~~~

“Come in,” called Larissa’s smooth voice as you knocked on her office door minutes later.

You did as you were told, closing and locking the door behind you. The sound of the lock clicking was not lost on Larissa, who looked up from her laptop with a smirk plastered on her face.

“Hello, darling,” she purred, her fingers pausing in their frantic typing as she waited for you to cross the room, drop the large canvas bag you were holding, and give her a kiss. “Pretty girl,” she mumbled against your lips as she pulled you onto her lap. Deepening the kiss, she flicked her tongue against yours, drawing a breathy moan from your throat which she swallowed eagerly. Her hands came to rest on your thighs, rubbing circles overtop your trousers as her breathing became more shallow. 

You chuckled into the kiss, pulling back reluctantly - Larissa let out a little whine, pouting slightly as she stilled her hands in their movements.

“Rissa…” you whined playfully, wrapping her arms around her neck. “I wanted to paint you while we still have some natural sunlight.”

“Mmm, I know, I know.” Larissa sighed, resting her forehead against yours and sliding her hands up to your waist. “Just tell me what you want from me, I’m all yours today.”

“Thank you.” You smirked, pressing a kiss to her cheek and whispering in her ear - you didn’t miss the shiver that ran down her spine as your warm breath hit the side of her neck. “I actually had an idea for what I wanted to do, may I ask you to accompany me to your bedroom?”

Larissa threw her head back as she laughed, squeezing your waist. When her laughter died down and she locked eyes with you once more, you were met with amusement and desire in equal measure. “Lead the way,” she replied with a smirk as you slid off her lap and held a hand out for her to take, grabbing your bag with the other hand.

She placed her palm in your own and stood, following you to her quarters and straight into her bedroom. “And what will you have me do in here?”

“Well I noticed that the light that comes in here in the early afternoon would be perfect for painting you.” You placed the bag you were carrying at the foot of the bed and looked around the room, your eyes falling to Larissa’s vanity. “Can I move this?”

Larissa chuckled, eyeing you curiously. “That’s fine…” She helped you clear it and drag it to the end of the bed, then sat down at the edge of the bed, kicking her heels off and watching you set up your tabletop easel, a canvas, and your paints. “And how will you have me pose? Would you like me naked in my bed?” she asked playfully.

“You know I would never object to having you naked in your bed,” you teased back, watching Larissa blush, her lips curling up into a shy smile as her gaze dropped to her lap. Once you were satisfied with your set-up, you stepped in front of Larissa, placing a finger underneath her chin and lifting it until her gaze met yours. “I was thinking we could get rid of some of these clothes though…” 

You gave Larissa’s collar a playful tug, receiving an eye-roll and a fake-annoyed huff in return. With a soft smirk playing on her lips, she undid the belt of her dress, then the top buttons, then tugged it over her head, dropping it onto the floor. 

“This too.” You snapped the strap of her bra - she reached behind herself, unhooking her bra and tossing it onto the dress.

“And let me help you with these.” You hooked your fingers under the waistband of her underwear, never breaking eye contact as you dragged them down her legs. You could see her lips part, her tongue darting out to wet them as she spread her legs open for you. When you dropped the underwear to the floor and stood again, you found yourself standing in between her thighs. Larissa’s hands came to rest on your hips, her eyelashes fluttering as her gaze flicked down your body. 

“You know it’s more than a little unfair that you’re still fully clothed, darling,” she husked, watching you with doe eyes.

“Yeah? I can change that.” You stripped yourself of your own clothing under Larissa’s hungry gaze, tossing the garments onto the growing pile. “This better?”

“A little.” Larissa bit her lip. “I know something else that could help.” You raised an eyebrow as Larissa stood from the bed, towering over you as she straightened to her full height. Grabbing hold of your waist, she spun you around and pushed you back onto the bed before crawling on top of you and looking down at you. “Much better,” she purred.

Smirking, you reached down to grab the backs of her thighs. “If you want to be on top so bad you only have to ask,” you teased. “You know what I’ve been wanting to try?”

“Hmm?”

“Having you sit on my face.” You gave the backs of her thighs an insistent tug. “Interested?”

Larissa let out a little groan, leaning down to capture your lips in a lustful kiss.

“Is that a yes?”

You couldn’t help but grin as Larissa rolled her eyes, shifting so that her bare pussy was hovering over your face, her plush thighs bracketing your head. “Yes, that is a yes, darling.” Her entrance glistened with her arousal, the scent of which was already beginning to drive you mad. You wrapped your arms around her thighs, pressing soft kisses to her skin that caused her to let out little whimpers. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” you breathed - she began to lower herself onto your waiting tongue, which immediately traced a path up her slit. “Fuck, you taste amazing.”

Larissa’s hips found a good rhythm, rolling against your face and matching the pace of your tongue as it circled her throbbing clit. Loud, breathy moans fell from her lips as she cupped her own breasts and rubbed her palms roughly over her nipples. From this angle it was hard to see her face as she tilted her head back, losing herself in pleasure, so you focused on the sounds of her moans and the lewd noises of your tongue against her wet cunt, on the feeling of her smooth thighs under your hands, on the sight of her tits bouncing slightly with every buck of her hips. 

“Mmm you look so good touching yourself like that,” you moaned against her pussy, allowing your tongue to explore her folds before slipping it into her entrance. Her walls clenched around you and her hips stuttered slightly in their movements as she stammered out a breathy reply.

“Y-you feel so good…”

“Look at me,” you commanded, waiting until Larissa’s eyes - dark and hooded - were on you before thrusting your tongue into her hole, as deep as you could. You could see her cheeks flush and her breathing falter for a moment as she adjusted to having your tongue inside of her. You groaned as you watched her watch you, as she rolled her own nipples between her fingers while you fucked her. 

As she bucked her hips against your face you ran your tongue back up her slit, wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking feverishly. Larissa’s movements became more and more erratic, her moans growing in volume as you found just the right pressure to bring her over the edge.

“I’m s-so cl- mmh- close, I can’t - shit-” Larissa’s voice was hoarse as her thighs began to tremble around your head - you could tell she wouldn’t be able to hold herself up much longer. You moaned against her clit, tightening your hold on her thighs in encouragement. Larissa fell forward, catching herself on the headboard and crying out in pleasure as she came, her juices coating your tongue and dripping down your chin.

You continued to lap at her pussy, cleaning her up and simultaneously savoring the taste of her. As you felt her thighs shift slightly beside your head, you helped her swing one leg back over your body so that she could lie beside you, breathing heavily.

You pushed her back onto the bed and kissed her eagerly, swallowing her moans as she sucked her arousal off your tongue. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of her lipstick smeared up to her nose. 

“Wait here.” Pushing yourself off the bed, you went to the bathroom to wash your face, getting a makeup wipe and a damp washcloth in the process. Catching sight of Larissa’s bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, you slipped it on, taking a moment to revel in its softness before stopping by the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water.

Returning to the bed, you found Larissa watching you with an amused grin on her face, her eyes dropping to the makeup wipe. “You’re still planning on painting me, aren’t you?” she said with a chuckle. 

“Yep - now drink some water and then hold still.” Larissa did as she was told, humor dancing in her eyes as you cleaned her up - first her thighs and cunt, then the bottom half of her face. “Can I redo your lipstick?” 

Larissa blushed and nodded. “It’s in the drawer of the vanity.”

You took your time to reapply her lipstick, careful to get the edges just right. Larissa was a perfect model for you, holding perfectly still and watching you with hooded eyes. You unpinned her hair, arranging her curls over her shoulders until they hung just right, before moving onto the rest of your “scene” - adjusting the sheets until they were draped over Larissa’s body, revealing the tops of her breasts and clinging to her curves. The early afternoon sun filtered in through the window just how you had envisioned, giving you enough natural light to be able to work properly.

She was an absolute vision, the sun illuminating her blonde curls like a halo, kissing the tip of her nose and giving her a healthy glow. Mascara-coated lashes fluttered a bit against her cheeks when the sun got too bright for her eyes, almost pale blue in this light. You laughed and told her to move her head back a bit, an instruction which she happily complied with.

Sitting down at your easel, you wasted no time in beginning to paint - it was a portrait you’d envisioned painting time and time again, and you were thrilled to finally get the chance. There was something about the shapeshifter in this light, with a post-sex glow about her, that made the moment so special to you.

“You could’ve been a model, you know?” you teased, your heart melting at the pink hue that immediately rose in Larissa’s cheeks. Her lips stretched up into a wide smile that made her laugh lines more prominent and caused her eyes to crinkle at the outer corners - all of the little lines that gave away her age only made her more beautiful to you, stealing the breath right from your lungs.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Larissa’s voice was low and sultry, and she shifted underneath the sheets, cocking her head to the side - something that you immediately reprimanded her for, shooing her back into position.

“I’m serious though. Did you always want to become a principal?” You eyed Larissa as her expression turned thoughtful. 

“Not always. What I did want, even in school, was to become a teacher. I’ve always loved working with children, even as a teenager I tutored younger students. But what these kids really need, as outcasts, is someone to advocate for them, and I can do so much more in my role as principal than as a teacher.”

Larissa’s passion for her job never failed to bring a smile to your face, and you glanced over at her between strokes of your paintbrush. “Do you miss teaching?”

“Sometimes…” Larissa’s smile turned pensive, a little sad. “I felt more connected to my students when I taught them directly every day.”

“You really seem to care for them, you know? Like they’re your own.”

“I do… When you get to watch them grow every day over years, they start to feel like family. I’ve always wanted my own…” she trailed off, her expression wistful. A long silence hung in the air and suddenly, Larissa’s cheeks turned red, her gaze dropping to her hands as she began to fidget. “I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She seemed unable to meet your gaze and you cocked your head to the side - the nervous energy radiating off of her was almost palpable. You set the brush down to give her your full attention.

“Why not?”

Larissa’s blush only deepend, and she sighed. “I’m getting too old for that, anyway. I turn 50 next year, that part of my life has long passed.”

“You could still have that,” you argued - with me, you wanted to add, but you didn’t.

Larissa scoffed, waving a hand in front of her face to distract from her (unwarranted) embarrassment. “You’re young - you’ll learn that you can’t have everything you want in life, and that’s alright. My students are enough for me.”

As much as you wanted to argue with her, you remained silent, mulling over her words in your head. The thought of Larissa settling, giving up on her dreams and desires due to something as stupid as age, broke your heart. You wanted kids, too - maybe not right this second, while you were still in college, but you could see yourself in a few years, chasing a blue-eyed, platinum-blonde-haired toddler around the home you’d share with Larissa. 

“I don’t think you should give up your desires so easily,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Larissa. 

Larissa’s eyes darted to meet yours for only a moment before looking away again. She seemed deep in thought, her brow furrowed a bit. Shaking her head gently, she rolled her shoulders back and let out a deep breath, plastering a smile onto her face - it was neither a genuine smile nor a fake one, but rather something in between.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” you whispered gently.

“You didn’t upset me, my love, that I can assure you,” she whispered back with equal tenderness.

Standing from your seat you rounded the vanity and stepped up to the bed, leaning over Larissa to cup her cheek and kiss her. When you pulled away, her smile was considerably more relaxed, the lines between her eyebrows nearly gone.

You spent the rest of the afternoon talking and painting. Occasionally you’d catch Larissa giving you a once-over, but she waved it off every time. Not wanting to push her again, you ignored it and allowed her to steer the conversation.

Larissa mentioned Mayor Walker’s funeral the following day and you told her you’d be there, as Robin’s family had been quite close to the mayor and his family. When you asked if Larissa would mind you saying hi to her if they saw each other, she chuckled.

“Darling, I think the secret is out - if Enid knows about us, everyone at this school does.”

You blushed a little at that, but Larissa reassured you that it was alright, she’d love to see you - that small fact made your heart flutter, and you ducked your head behind the canvas to stop Larissa from seeing how red you’d gotten as you added a few final touches to the painting.

“There.” You smiled proudly as you looked between the painting and Larissa. “All done - well, not done done. I need to add some details, and I’ll need to finish parts of the background. But your part is done, you don’t need to sit here while I do that.”

Larissa sat up to stretch, the sheets falling off her body to reveal her rosy nipples and the swell of her stomach. She smiled softly as she caught you staring at her. “Put that paintbrush down and come here,” she cooed. 

You did as you were told, getting up and going to crawl towards her on the bed. She gave your legs a tug, signaling for you to straddle her. Her fingers came to the tie of your robe, giving it a gentle tug and then pushing the robe off your shoulders. She leaned in to kiss you, her bare chest pressing against your own in a way that made your whole body shiver.

Smirking against your lips, she wound her fingers into your hair, her nails scratching lightly against your scalp. “How about you let me show you how much I appreciate you working so hard for me this afternoon, hm?” Her words drew a moan from your throat and you allowed her to push you onto your back and have her way with you, kissing her way down your body and eating you out as if you were her last meal until the both of you were absolutely spent.

x

Taglist: @littledollll @nlr-33 @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog @barbarasstar @giogwensversion

[coraniaid]

I'm pretty critical of Buffy's final season (because ... well, I've watched it), but there are some things I think it does well and, since I'm trying to talk myself into working on my S7 AU fic again, I thought it might be worth trying to write down what they are.

I like the sense of completeness there is in going back to some of the show's beginnings. I like seeing Buffy in school again, but this time as an adult with a job. It doesn't just let us re-examine the high school years from a new perspective, it gives Buffy's arc over the last few seasons a nice sense of direction. I like what little we see of Dawn in high school. (I wish there were more episodes like Help.) In principle, I even like the fact that this season's Big Bad is a supernatural threat we've seen on the show before.

While I think there are a lot of problems with the execution (and even with the wider concept) of making the First Evil the primary (frequently the only) antagonist, the First being around does give you a lot of possibilities for having characters literally come face to face with their pasts. I like the final scene of Lessons and I like Conversations With Dead People and I like seeing the Mayor on screen again. I wish the show had done more with this concept.

I like meeting new (Potential) Slayers and finding out more about past Slayers. I like Robin Wood. I like Kennedy. (I wish the show did a better job making the audience care about any of the other Potentials.) I like that Faith comes back. I like that there is a focus on what it means to be a Slayer this season (compare how the show opens, with Buffy taking Dawn on patrol and telling her "it's about power..." [which Dawn doesn't have], to the scene in Chosen where Buffy asks the Potentials "what if you could have that power?").

I also (sorry) really like the fact that the writers resisted the urge to make Dawn a Potential or have her suddenly develop any magical powers as a result of being the Key (which there are at least rumours they were talking about doing). I like that the show stuck with the idea that Dawn is the part of Buffy who gets to be an ordinary girl.

For all its flaws (silly CGI battle against monsters I don't care about which is resolved by a random mcguffin from a different show; weird retcon about Sunnydale apparently being inland; a bunch of other unfortunate writing choices I won't get into here) I really do like Chosen a lot. It feels very fitting that the show ends with Buffy both finally getting to leave Sunnydale and with her no longer having to shoulde the burden of being "the" Slayer (or one of only two Slayers, anyway) anymore. I love how open-ended and hopeful that manages to be.

And speaking of Chosen, I like Buffy's "cookie dough" speech. I like the fact that the show lets Buffy end the series single, and recognizing that she doesn't have to be in a serious romantic relationship if she doesn't feel she's ready for one right now. (I like post-S7 Fuffy as a concept a lot, sure, but I think I prefer it as something that neither of them rushes into.)

I like that Amy comes back? I mean, I don't like anything the season does with her, but still: points for remembering she exists, I guess.

I like the fact that Willow gets to grieve Tara but also move on with her life and start dating again. [I don't know if I would have killed Tara off if I was writing S6 -- I think probably not -- but given that Tara did die I think this is the only good option.]

Empty Places is a good .... name for an episode?

For all my (many, many) issues with Andrew Wells this season (and in particular with just how much Andrew Wells is in this season, which is ... a lot), I think Storyteller is ... pretty good? I liked Jonathan, I think it's sad he dies (and his speech about missing high school now that he's left is another good moment from this season) but I wouldn't really have wanted to have him turn up and help save the day either. Having Andrew kill him (and then have to face up to the fact) feels like the right choice, to me, if you were going to bring either character back [I'm not really sure I would have done that though, to be honest].

Equally, for all my irritation at the time wasted on the "is Giles the First Evil?" subplot and at some of the other character deaths the writers did go for, I'm glad that the Core Four all survive. What the season actually does with Giles isn't very good, and neither Xander nor Willow are in this season enough (especially not in its second half), but at least they all get to live.

Oh, and Anya. I'm glad the writers didn't give in to the temptation to kill off Anya for some sort of cheap shock value, the way some leaked early drafts of Chosen suggest they were thinking of doing. Can you imagine how infuriating that would have been? I don't know if I would ever have accepted it. I might even now be living in denial. Thankfully common sense prevailed there and Anya definitely survived.

[bellezaycafe]

Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 3

genre: 2024 Season AU

pairing: there will be romance but I haven't finalised who yet. platonic! oc x literally the whole grid.

warnings: swearing

context: Sadie, a 20 year old university student from Melbourne, decided to take a gap year and volunteer at 2 Formula One races in different countries.

Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )

comments: I guess this is a series now. I'm keeping the title Get Your Shit Together because I think Sadie is the kind of person who pretends to have her shit together but doesn't, so she helps everyone else get theirs together.

Part 1 | Masterlist

----$----

Max Verstappen was in a paddock interview when someone caught his eye. Dark brown hair, round face, sharp nose and a confident aura that compared to no others.

“Wait- hang on. Lewis, Lewis.” The older man looked over and his gaze followed Max’s pointed finger. “Mate, is that who I think it is?”

“Yeah mate, I think so.” Lewis’ smile only grew as he agreed.

“Who are you pointing too?” the interviewer asked.

Max hoped that she was just out of view of the cameras as he said, “the volunteer from Australia. The good one.”

He didn’t know how else to explain his respect for her in English; to him, she was good.

“It’ll be good to finally learn her name,” Lewis mused, scratching at his neat stubble.

“None of you know her name?” The reporter asked.

“No,” Lewis said into Max’s microphone. “I never had the chance to find her after the interviews.”

“I saw her the next day, I apologised for my behaviour to her,” Max commented. “But I forgot to ask her for her name.”

The reporter shook his head. “Alright well, thank you both for your time.”

Max nodded respectfully while Lewis said, “thank you.”

Then they both charged through the crowd towards the last place they saw the woman.

“Bets on her name?” Lewis asked.

“I don’t know. Something very Australian?”

“I feel like she’s a Layla or a Nira.”

"I think it's Sadie," came Lando's voice as he squished himself between the champions. "I asked Dave, one of the McLaren staff."

But when they reached the spot she had been, she'd vanished.

Max frowned and tried to use his height to see her but it was hopeless. Lewis pulled his phone out of nowhere and dialed a number. Lando just sat on the edge of a nearby pot plant.

"Heya," Lewis said into his phone. "I'm gonna need a paddock pass for our garage."

A pause.

"No, ass. I haven't found someone for the weekend and I don't intend to. It's for the girl from Melbourne, the volunteer George told you about... Yes, I know Carmen wants to meet her, that's why I'm asking you for a paddock pass."

Lando laughed from his seat, something boisterous and loud that had surrounding staff glancing over. Max was glad to hear his laugh again, it had been too long since they had hung out.

"No, I don't know her last name. I haven't even confirmed her first name... I can't ask her, she's not in front of me... I don't know where she is, we saw her from a distance... Max and Lando... Alright, fine. We'll find her."

Lewis hung up and sighed with a glance to the sky.

"They won't give you a pass?" Max guessed.

"They need her name first."

"Did you see who she was with?" Lando asked.

"Yeah," Lewis said. "Some paramedics. I recognised Mark, he's been the on call medic for years."

Max mulled over the fact he hadn't noticed anyone around her. He also mulled over the excitement little Lando Norris was trying to squash.

"I know where the medic tent is." He almost leapt up from his perch.

Lewis gave Max a knowing smirk as they disappeared into the crowd.

——$——

Sadie had no idea they had seen her. She was hoping that none of the drivers would remember her. She still hadn't seen their interviews from Melbourne and was clueless about the actions the FIA had taken to hand out penalties directly after the race.

"Hungry?" Mark, a middle-aged paramedic with greying blonde hair and smile lines besides his eyes, asked.

"I am starving, please tell me there is somewhere I can get a decent sanga."

Mark frowned. "Sanga?"

"Sandwich," Sadie corrected. She was almost bouncing as she spotted the food trucks.

"You Australian's are weird," Mark commented but he couldn't hide his smile.

"And you English are uncultured," she returned.

She liked Mark, they'd met yesterday during practices and clicked. He was her supervisor during the free practice sessions and qualifying but she'd stuck by his side off track too. He didn't mind, he knew she was there, on the other side of the world, alone, to work for a sport she loved.

He'd told her at the volunteer's group dinner last night that she was living the dream he had wanted to at 20. He'd had a couple wines and would not shut up about how much his wife would love to meet her.

"Mark, what do you want?" she called over her shoulder as the reached the sandwich truck. When he didn't reply, she glanced behind her.

He was 100 metres back, talking to none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. Sadie turned back around, remembering their interaction in Melbourne.

Another body stepped up beside her, swathed in bright orange.

Correction: Papaya.

Sadie didn't turn, assuming it was a McLaren employee looking fro some early lunch.

"It's a surprise to see you here." Lando offered the icebreaker.

She turned at his voice and fought to keep her composure. His brown curls swished as he turned his head towards her.

"I didn't think you'd remember me," she said truthfully. Sadie focused her eyes on the bridge of his nose as she spoke, she didn't want to meet those ever-changing eyes. She'd already noted that they matched the day's grey sky.

"Most of us did." The driver shrugged. "Carmen, George's partner, wants to meet you. Lewis is trying to get you Mercedes paddock passes."

Sadie groaned at that, stepping closer to the food truck as the line moved forwards. "I'm not stepping near any of your garages unless I'm doing my job. Too many cameras, too many people."

Lando laughed. "Understandable, but Lewis is determined."

Sadie paused for a moment as the line moved again. "How about, I will come and meet George and Carmen after the race? I'll meet Carmen while Lewis and George do their interviews and debriefs?"

The same brown curls swayed as Lando nodded. "I think they'll agree to that. All the cameras will be focused on the interviews and top three."

Sadie made an 'exactly' gesture and stepped up to the food truck with a goodbye wave.

By the time she had ordered her sandwich and Mark's signature wrap, the drivers had finished speaking with the paramedic.

He joined her while they waited.

"You never told me it was you who scolded Max in Melbourne," Mark noted.

Sadie muttered a curse. "I was hoping that everyone had forgotten about that. I lost my temper and I'm not proud of it."

"Lewis said that you stood up for yourself."

"I scolded him like a school teacher."

"You did call him a child."

"Angry, remember?"

"Sandwich and wrap for Sadie!" the food vendor shouted.

She stepped up, collected their food and handed her wrap to Mark.

"I didn't tell anyone about it because don't like media attention," she told him. "I hate how how the media follow the drivers. They have to fight for a private life, and I hate that. Max was angry, I was angry, and that interaction was something between the drivers and I. It had nothing to do with the fan's consumption of the race."

Mark hummed his agreement around his wrap.

"The media circus doesn't know what happened, and they don't need to. His reaction was fair, and they don't need to be involved."

Sadie watched something pass over Mark's face but she couldn't place what it was. She devoured her sandwich instead.

----$----

Please let me know about how you feel about the direction this thing is going!!

[miss0atae]

Doppelganger and Reincarnation or how I believe new Vad / Wat isn’t what she seems to be in Century of Love (ep 6) :

Century of Love plot relies heavily on the idea of reincarnation. San made a deal with the goddess Nuwa. He has 100 years to find the reincarnation of his lover. In the meantime he is suffering from great pain every night. San has only one purpose and it's to find her. Over the years, he hasn't made progress. He is stuck in the past and the years are starting to weight on him. That's why, despite staying young he is acting a lot like a meanie grandpa.

It's the second series directed by Worawit Khuttiyayothin where you can find the representation of Chinese culture. Thai Chinese culture were represented a lot in another of his work To Sir, With Love. If in this work, Worawit Khuttiyayothin showed how the local the local Chinese community was dominating the domestic commerce of Thailand, in Century of Love, he shows a story inspired by the Chinese Folk religion and Buddhism. The goddess Nuwa is considered as the creator of mankind in Chinese mythology. I found weird that she was the goddess they decided to use for this series as she doesn't seem to have anything to do with the afterlife. I guess it's because she indeed used the five-colored stones and it was a device that could be used for the story. After all, when written a work of fiction, we don't always have to select the right god of goddess to use in your stories.

As she is presented in Buddhism and reincarnation is an important part of the plot of the stories, I believe it's important to show the link between the two. I'm not well-knowledgeable on Buddhism. I just knew reincarnation is a part of the belief. Karma influences your rebirth and the cycle of birth and death is endless. The story capitalize also on this idea. While looking for information about reincarnation in Buddhism I came upon the idea that there is no soul moving from one reincarnation to another. Also the consciousnesses of the new reborn is neither identical neither entirely different from his previous incarnation. I guess the screenwriter didn't want to rely too much on the different beliefs of Buddhism to make the story easier to follow by everyone. However, I think it would have been great to introduce this idea because it would explain why Vee could be considered the reincarnation of Vad / Wat even though he doesn't look or acts like her. Even if he is different from her, he still has the same care for others as she had and it would emphasize this “continuum” that is supposed to exist between different reincarnation. San could gradually accept the idea that Vee and his Vad / Wat would be the same being.

However, they decided to keep the idea of the reincarnation who has to look like his/her past self and he/she is able to remember some part of their past life. That's why the confusion of the arrival of New Vad / Wat works. By the end of episode 6, when San has finally accepted his feelings for Vee and the idea that he could be the reincarnation of his lover, New Vad / Wat came to his door. No doubts she is here to cause trouble. I think we can already accept it's going to confuse San. Previously, he met Third, the doctor and childhood friend of Vee who had the same face as Lord Trai, Vad / Wat's fiancé. Several time, Third admitted he felt like he already knew San and lost to him. The story seems to make us want to see him as the reincarnation of Lord Trai. San was even confused by the fact he was the copy carbon physically of the Lord, while Vee isn't looking at all like Vad / Wat. Tao has the best answer about that and it's simply that he can't explain everything. It works perfectly for the story because anything that is as magical as reincarnation shouldn't be something you can rationalize. It keeps the mystery open and it's good for the series. It engages the viewers and keep us entertain. Not being able to have all the answers, let the possibility for New Vad / Wat to exist into the story.

As for me, I don't want to see New Vad / Wat has the true reincarnation of past Vad / Wat. I know there are viewers who believe Vee is the true reincarnation and others who don't think he is. That's perfectly fine because this is what the story wants us to think. We are always presented with these two possibilities. However, since I'm not in favor of New Vad / Wat being the true reincarnation. I will explain why. In fantasy genre you can find the figure of the Doppelganger. It's a someone who looks exactly like someone else but who is not related to that person. It works perfectly well with New Vad / Wat as she looks like past Vad / Wat. Sometimes the Doppelganger is used as an evil twin in stories. New Vad / Wat is physically nearly identical to the past Vad / Wat, but she could have a radically inverted morality. Past Vad / Wat was a very caring and loving person, that's why San fell in love with her. However, we know that there are people who seek the power of the five-colored stone. They know it must be willingly given if they want to access the power of the stone. They also know San is looking for a woman and his family and Tao used a drawing of the person they are looking for. It wouldn't be too complicated to find someone who look the same and who can act as her to get the stone. Vad / Wat is inherently link to the stone.

I may be wrong, of course. After all, it's just pure speculation. I just like to imagine how things could be. It's also fun to compare reincarnation and doppelganger. This series is just fit for all these thoughts.

[itsghvstfvce]

WHAT'S IN A NAME

pairing : tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary : you can keep running, but you can't run from who you are.

word count : 2.5k

warnings : scream vi spoilers, violence, swearing, shitty non-proofread writing

You just wanted Honeybuns.

You wanted to be in and out of the bodega with your Honeybuns and make it home to watch another episode of your favorite show. You absolutely did not expect to be here, tucked away behind a shelf hoping to God that the shooter won’t find you and blow your brains out.

Just as you’re about to make a beeline for the exit while the killer wasn’t looking, you hear an empty beer can thrown into the aisle you were in which meant you weren’t the only hostage here. You hear the killer’s footsteps move towards your aisle so you quickly and quietly crawl to the next aisle before he could catch you. To your surprise, you’re met with the infamous Carpenter sisters and Sam motions both you and Tara to start crawling towards the exit.

As you’re crawling, Tara accidentally steps on broken glass and makes a sound, causing you, Sam, and the killer to stop in your tracks. The older Carpenter holds a finger up and peeks through the shelves to watch the cloaked figure’s next move. As soon as he turns around, the three of you push the shelf with all your might onto him, quickly running out the door before he could get up. Looking back into the store, the killer was no longer there and all that was left was an open back door and a Ghostface mask.

And that was how you officially met Tara.

You already knew of Tara’s existence when you started your freshman year at Blackmore University. Even with all the rumors you heard about her and her psychotic sister, you always found yourself attracted to the girl. At the frat party, you were about to introduce yourself to her but to your demise, Frankie had already beaten you to it. From where you were sitting, you drank your stale beer while watching everything unfold from Chad and Frankie’s little macho dance to Sam tasing Frankie right in the balls (which you found very impressive and also kind of hot) But you thought it’d be best to keep your distance from Tara and anyone close to her as they were known to be danger magnets.

But clearly, the universe had other ideas for you because you happened to meet Tara face-to-face at the bodega.

The three of you were brought to the police station for questioning. It’s silent between the three of you with the only thing being heard was Tara’s soft breathing and a sigh from Sam.

“Do you go there often? The bodega I mean,” the older girl asks finally breaking the silence. Tara keeps her head down, but listens intently to your conversation with her sister.

“Not really, no. I was just really craving some Honeybuns,” you laugh dryly. “But I didn’t think I’d encounter a fucking Ghostface”

“So I’m guessing you know who we are, considering you know Ghostface”

“Well for the record, I’ve also seen the Stab movies so that’s why I know it. But I do know who you are,” you say almost as if embarrassed to admit the fact.

“I’m Y/N by the way, since you don’t know who I am,” you notice Sam’s eyebrows furrow slightly as you introduce yourself.

“That name sounds familiar.. do we know you by any chance?” She asks, shifting her gaze from the table to you.

“Oh I doubt it, I only came to the city recently for school,” you nervously laugh from the sudden interrogation.

Tara’s head shoots up when Detective Bailey walks in and begins his interrogation. Luckily for them, you were helpful because you were able to check out Tara’s alibi for being at the party and seeing the both of them there (Sam bringing up the tasing incident forced you to hide a smile). But not even 10 minutes in, he was asked to leave the room due to the FBI claiming jurisdiction, leaving the three of you alone yet again. It’s quiet just like when you were first brought in here, but Tara is the one to break the silence this time.

“Wait! Y/N Y/N Y/N, I know where I heard this name,” you nervously chewed on your lip as Tara tried to remember where she heard your name.

“Got it! You’re in my film class, right? You sit all the way in the back and I always notice you when I walk in. I remember peeking down at your notebook as I walked to my seat and I saw your name,” she says proudly as if she’s solved a mystery. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, giving her a smile and nodding your head to confirm her statement.

“Okay, well it’s nice that you’re meeting your classmates and making friends but we don’t have time for this. Let’s go,” Sam starts putting on her black bomber jacket before making her way out of the interrogation room. You and Tara get up to follow suit, but before you can make your way out the room, Tara stops you.

“Do you want to grab some lunch sometime? You know, whenever this whole thing will be over?”

You look at her for a moment and take in her features; the way her brown eyes manage to sparkle under the dull white ceiling lights; how a sea of freckles paint over her face so perfectly; and how her lips were plump, red, and so god damn kissable. You knew you shouldn’t get close to her, but every moment you spent staring and glossing over her features, you knew you’d cave into her.

“Guys, come on!” Sam called out from a few feet in front of you. You look back at the younger Carpenter, who was still waiting for a reply.

“Yeah, that’d be nice” you finally manage to say.

The two of you catch up to Sam who finds Detective Bailey talking to someone else but when you realize who it was, you freeze.

“Kirby?” Sam calls out.

“Hey Sam,” the blonde walks over to give Sam a hug and acknowledges Tara. When she finds you standing behind them, her eyes widen and says a quiet “oh my god,” causing the two sisters to look at you.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“You guys know each other?” Detective Bailey asks the four of you, but Sam answers first.

“Yeah. We went to Woodsboro High together. She was a senior when I was a freshman.”

“We share a certain history together, yeah.”

“Wait Kirby, how do you know Y/N?” Tara asks.

Your eyes dart back and forth between the three of them, your palms getting sweatier and your heart racing faster at the sudden attention on you.

Kirby quickly understood and decided to clear the air by offering her help on the case. The girls divert their focus to Kirby and the detective, but not before Sam gives you a questioning look.

And as if seeing Kirby wasn’t bad enough, the three of you happen to meet Gale Weathers right outside the police station. She was looking very eager to cover the story of last night’s events as per usual. You call for a taxi while Sam and Tara talk to Gale, not missing the amazing right hook Tara gives the reporter. They start making their way to the taxi and Gale follows. When the three of them come closer, she catches sight of you and pushes pass the two sisters.

“Jesus Christ, out of all the places you could run off to, I didn’t expect the fucking Big Apple Y/N”

Sam and Tara look at each other, both heavily confused on how you knew Kirby and now Gale.

The reporter approaches you for a hug, to which you don’t reciprocate knowing Sam and Tara were watching. Deep down, you really wanted to hug Gale back but you just couldn’t bring yourself to wrap your arms around her.

“How is she?” you ask as she pulls away.

“I talked to her. She’s worried sick, you know. Are you ever going to go back home?”

“I'm fine here, Gale”

“Well with Ghostface running around here, I don’t think you are anymore. Why don’t you give her a call-”

“I can’t,” you feel the lump in your throat and try your best to fight the tears forming in your eyes. “She’ll never forgive me.”

“Of course she will, Y/N. She’s the only one who will understand what you’re feeling right now.”

The taxi driver honks his horn to get you to hurry up and get in the cab.

“I hope I don’t have to see you around. Take care of yourself,” you squeeze her shoulder and Gale watches you get into the cab together with the Sam and Tara and drive off.

Later that day, Tara invites you to meet the rest of her friend group which includes the Meeks-Martin twins, Ethan, Quinn, and Mindy’s girlfriend Anika. The eight of you sat together on campus as Mindy goes on a ramble about the new rules of a franchise and listing out her potential suspects. Naturally, you were on her top three along with Ethan and Quinn since you just met the friend group, so you couldn’t be mad at the accusation. And as if perfectly timed, your phone started to ring which startled everyone. The number was coming from an unknown number so you decline it, knowing better than to answer it. When asked who it was, you lied and said it was just your roommate. But you get a text from the same number:

ANSWER THE PHONE, BITCH.

The phone rings again and you excuse yourself from the group meeting to answer the call alone, earning you odd looks from everyone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N. It’s exciting to finally be doing this with you,” the voice was all too familiar. You look back at the group and they’re all staring at you, watching your every move. You weren’t exactly doing a very good job at trying to defend yourself from being a suspect.

“Who is this?” you say through gritted teeth.

“You think just because you ran away from home, you won’t be a part of this? It’s inevitable, Y/N. It’s who you are.”

“I’m not the daughter of a serial killer fuckface, I don’t count!”

“Oh but that’s where you’re wrong. Are you forgetting who your mother is, Y/N?”

“Please, just leave me alone,” you beg with tears in your eyes.

“Your secret will be out soon. And when that happens, I can’t wait to be the one who will gut you like a fish in front of everyone.”

“How fucking original. Come up with a new catchphrase next time, you bitch!” you sneer as you end the call. You run a hand through your hair, trying not to let the tears spill out of frustration. Suddenly, a hand grabs your shoulder and you jump at the feeling but when you turn around, a small girl is standing in front of you.

“Woah hey, it’s just me. Are you okay?” Tara asks, genuine concern laced in her voice. Your tense body now relaxes at the sight of her, her presence washing away every bit of fear and anger that was in you. It’s already hard for her to trust you and you can’t blame her for that, so you decide not to keep any more secrets from her.

“He called. Said he can’t wait to gut me like a fish.” Tara shakes her head.

“That’s it, you’re staying with us tonight.”

“Wait, what? Just like that?”

“You’re in danger, Y/N. We have to protect you, we’re the reason you’re in this mess in the first place.”

“Okay first of all, you know you shouldn’t trust anyone, that’s like the biggest fucking rule in this whole franchise shit. Second, you are not the reason that he’s after me, you don’t- we don’t know why he’s after me. And third, I don’t think Sam will be too keen on the idea of me staying with you guys.”

“I’ll convince her. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Y/N.”

You take a moment to look at her again. There’s a genuine and sincere look in her eyes, and for a moment, you forget that you’re all wanted targets about to be murdered. For a moment, it just feels like you two are normal university students who want to fall in love with each other

“See, this is why I want to trust you,” you’re broken out of your trance when the younger Carpenter speaks. She notices your eyebrows furrow in confusion and giggles at the sight.

“You look at me and get lost into my eyes, like you’re looking pass all the crazy shit we’re going through right now. You look at me like you want to fall in love but you’re afraid to,” your eyes widen at how she managed to voice out your thoughts. “And I know I’ve been through a lot, I know I shouldn’t openly trust anyone anymore but for some weird fucking reason, I feel safe and comfortable around you. And maybe this will bite me in the ass later on, maybe you’re just a really good fucking actress and I’m gonna regret everything when you start slicing me up, but I really hope it doesn’t have to end up that way.”

You look into her eyes once more and you prove her statement in that very moment. In the little time you’ve spent with her, you found yourself falling for the girl. You always thought your life was fucked when you learned who your mother was, but now you don’t think it’s all that bad. If it wasn’t for your name and the bloodline you came from, you wouldn’t have been led to Tara Carpenter.

You held your pinky finger up to the girl and now it’s Tara’s turn to look confused. “Normal serial killers usually would verbally make promises or swear that they won’t do anything. But pinky promises are very serious, to me at least. I know it’ll be hard to fully trust me, so this is me assuring you that things won’t end up that way in the best way I know how.” It’s pathetic now that you think of it, offering a pinky promise not to kill the girl. But Tara laughs and links pinkies with you anyway.

“Break this promise and I’ll make sure Sam breaks every bone in your body.”

a/n: hello reader >:) my love for jenna ortega and the scream franchise has led me here. honestly speaking, this won't make a lot of sense canonically but pls bear w me, i'm going to try and execute this idea as best as i can :') if you made it this far, thank you for reading!

[fatefulfaerie]

Tears

“Link!” Penn exclaimed, wings outstretched in excitement. “What a great sense for news you have! Here I am chasing a new lead on the Princess and my partner appears before my eyes!”

Link hadn’t seen Penn since they finished chasing all the leads they had on the Princess’ whereabouts. It was at least a month since they went from stable to stable, Link almost believing the Yiga’s tricks and getting barely a wink of sleep until all twelve were dead ends. He was left just as lost as when he started until he found Impa and sunk himself into the mysterious geoglyphs that dotted the land. Link hadn’t yet found the courage to admit to anyone the truth about Zelda, so he pretended the best he could to be the eager, young reporter Penn knew him as.

“I’ve heard that Zelda has a homestead here in Hateno,” he continued. “Villagers tell me it’s across this bridge, but I’m afraid I’m at a standstill. You see, investigating her home for clues seems to go against my morals as a journalist. This may have to be a story we leave be.”

It was public knowledge that Princess Zelda lived in Hateno. That was no news story.

“What’s the lead?” Link asked. “Was she seen here recently? S-since her disappearance I mean.”

“It may be hearsay but rumors have been circulating that the Princess is married,” Penn said. “The villagers here have no idea what I’m talking about, so I’m thinking it’s no more than gossip. Traysi wanted me to check it out nonetheless. I’m thinking we at least find the may–”

Link averted his tear-filled gaze.

“Link, are you all right?”

“I…I’m fine,” he stammered. “Just…allergies.”

“Where,” he began weakly, but forced his voice to be stronger. “Where does the lead come from?”

“An old Zora at the Domain,” Penn answered. “He’s losing his memory but tends to spout some random things about his long life in an effort to keep a grasp on it. His niece heard him talking about marrying the Princess to someone, but he didn’t specify who. She was so excited about the prospect that she sent word to Traysi.”

Link looked notably nervous as he hugged his arms close.

“Don’t…don’t run the story,” he said in a hushed voice, no longer meeting Penn’s gaze at all. 

Penn looked confused.

“Link…what do you mean? Do you know something?”

“It just…it paints her in a bad light.”

“Link, I know you care about the princess’ public reputation. Your work at the paper honors that gleamingly. Your search for the absolute truth is inspiring to the whole team. You service our kingdom and our princess well.”

Link steadied his nerves with a deep breath and a slow blink of his eyes.

“It was me,” he admitted, quietly at first.

Penn blinked, shocked. He assumed he heard wrong.

“What?”

“It was me!” Link finally burst out pointing at himself. “All of it, everything. The mysterious hero who came out of nowhere and saved Hyrule from the calamity, me. I brought Zelda here and we built a life, and it was a good life. I married her because I loved her. We didn’t tell anyone because goddesses the Yiga were trailing her everywhere and everyone was looking at her to rebuild but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore because she’s gone, okay? She’s gone! That’s it, that’s your story. She’s a magic, floating dragon in the skies because I failed her again. She sacrificed herself for this kingdom and no one will ever know because there’s no proof! Nothing! No one else sees the dragons but me, so that’s what I have for you, absolutely nothing! I have nothing!”

Link panted and Penn stared. He blinked his eyes once, twice. Link expected him to call him crazy. Instead, he pointed his white-feathered wing at the house across the bridge.

“That’s your house?”

Link’s disbelief was shown in his face.

“Yes.”

Penn looked at the house for a moment, letting the breeze sift through his feathers.

“Link I think in a time like this Hyrule would quite like to hear a story like this about their Princess,” Penn said. “I don’t think your story paints her in a bad light in the slightest. In fact, it may be the heartwarming tale people need right now.”

Link’s gaze angled down and pondered the suggestion.

“And no, they won’t believe that she’s turned into a dragon,” Penn continued. “But they will believe as I do how much you loved her, and how she must have loved you.”

Link nodded.

“If you don’t mind I’d like to interview you,” Penn admitted. “In the house you built together. You’ll get final approval of the story I send to Traysi.”

Link looked up and over at the house. It felt like he hadn't been there in ages, like it was a lifetime ago that he went in scouring for clues, hoping she'd just be around the next corner. Waiting for her was like waiting for a sunrise that would never come.

“No, I don’t mind.”

[thegoldenshi-shi]

am I hallucinating or did Deathsaurus not have a wife named Esmereal?

if he did, Rest in Piece Cliffjumper You gotta somehow defeat or straight up lie to his equally terrifying and bigger final boss of a wife *cue the boss music*

(feel free to ignore this but I find it a little funny over the pain that Cliffjumper is going through of being called the wrong name and mistaken for the wrong person. also I am tired and vaguely remember a fanart of Esmereal asking Cliffjumper of what exactly happened to Deathsaurus)

He was, in fact married.

I love the idea of him being weirdly domestic and loving when not out doing evil Decepticon things. Especially when what little we see of Esmeral she was a polite, sweet looking, giant dragon lady. And a civilian apparently? Since she never appeared outside the Decepticon fortress, I'm guessing she didn't have any combat training.

Also, I know it was just the comic style, but her ridiculously girly face makes me laugh.

Now I can see Cliffjumper leaving the hospital after the events of Probat. While he's freaking out over how crazy his life's just gotten, he gets stopped by a huge lady who mistook him as a hospital worker and wants to know where her husband is.

"Your husband??"

"Ambassador Deathsaurus. Do you know where his room is?"

Bonus points if he's afraid of her because she's so scary looking, but she's like the epitome of sweetness. Esmeral's just really upset and wants to go to her comatose husband.

Also, she doesn't know that the jumpy hospital worker is the one who sent her precious husband into a coma, or else she might have gone just as crazy as he did on Probat.

Thank you so much for your ask! I had forgotten about Esmeral and how much I enjoyed her concept.

[lemon-natalia]

Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 33

oooh a random person in the clearing - maybe the Blood of Eden is finally making an appearance?

CAMILLA HECT MY BELOVED where have u been!!!!

and now Harrow is bleeding an awful lot, i am mildly concerned for the health of her brain at this point

yeah actually i didn’t register it before, but it is weird Camilla is in the neighbourhood forty billion lightyears from where we last saw her, given Harrow had to do Lyctor!travel through weird blood soup to get here

she has a piece of Palamedes's skull!!! oh i am not okay rn

PALAMEDES!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

if i had to read the same bad romance novel for eternity i’d get bored so quickly. Palamedes has the right idea, what better hobby to take up when you’re dead than writing fanfiction?

ahh they’re arguing about the semantics of whats possible in necromancy again, how i have missed this. you don’t know what you have until you lose it

also, if the limits of this bubble are what Palamedes could see at the point of his death - could he see Gideon who was listening in from where he was in the room? because if so…

Palamedes reaction to Harrow becoming a Lyctor, him knowing what she would’ve had to do is just ... heartbreaking. she can’t even explain what actually happened & that Gideon volunteered because she doesn’t know herself. they’re having two very different conversations here.

wait the Sleeper is here, Harrow’s fake memories are imposing on Palamedes’s bubble somehow?! also this is our first real description of them, but unfortunately the Sleeper is dressed all in high vis orange with their face conveniently covered smh

��You never could have guessed that he had seen me’ WHAT. WHAT. what in the hell is that supposed to mean??? the narrator in these sections isn’t technically Harrow? the fact that they’re in her head, and talking about how Palamedes had 'seen' them really makes me hope that this is somehow Gideon, or at least whatever's left of her?