#but this fit so well I thought it would be funny

[lupinqs]

CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader.

☆ ━ word count: 5.4K

☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)

☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write

PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.

And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.

She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.

And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.

So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.

Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.

At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)

From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.

And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.

It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.

You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.

But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.

With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.

Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.

Right into you.

The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.

She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.

The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.

So much for not getting distracted.

After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.

Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.

And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.

She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.

You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”

Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.

But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.

There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”

You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”

There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.

“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.

You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.

You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”

And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.

She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.

IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.

Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.

She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.

“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.

Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”

But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.

“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”

You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”

Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”

KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.

There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.

“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”

You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”

She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…

She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”

There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—

Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”

Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”

Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”

Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.

As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.

Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.

It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.

“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.

“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.

There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.

“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.

You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.

“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.

Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”

You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.

Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”

You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”

Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”

You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”

Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.

There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”

Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”

You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”

The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”

You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”

Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.

She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”

You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”

She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”

It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.

And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.

Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”

The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”

You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.

“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”

It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.

Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”

It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.

The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.

Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.

It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.

When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.

Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”

Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”

The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.

“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.

[niilue]

—when you can't resist it and you spank vi—

cw: fem reader, funny and silly situation, drabble, mention of spank, vi ashamed.

ekko's hiding place was relatively quiet, except for the sound of metal tools clinking and the occasional scattered conversation. you’d been wandering around, trying to find something useful to do, but your attention kept drifting toward vi.

she was bent over a table, working on her gauntlets as usual. her movements were meticulous and focused, and the furrow in her brow made it clear she was completely absorbed in her task. her jacket rested on a nearby chair, leaving her fitted tank top on display, highlighting the defined lines of her shoulders and muscles.

but it wasn’t her tank top that caught your attention—it was her pants. vi always wore those long, dark pants, snug and fitted, as if they were made specifically for her. the way they clung to her body, outlining every curve, was almost mesmerizing.

and now, with her leaning over the table, all her weight resting on her arms, the fabric stretched in a way that made everything stand out even more. you couldn’t help but notice how the curve of her backside was perfectly outlined, firm and athletic.

for a moment, a mischievous spark ignited in your mind, growing quickly into a reckless idea.

"why not?" you thought to yourself, a sly grin spreading across your face.

you crept up behind her, careful not to make a sound on the metal floor. vi didn’t even notice your presence, too focused on adjusting some mechanism on her gauntlet.

the opportunity was perfect. without giving it too much thought, you raised your hand and delivered a slap to her backside so loud it echoed across the hideout, causing a few nearby heads to turn in surprise.

the impact made vi’s backside jiggle slightly, the material of her pants rippling briefly from the force before snapping back into place.

“WHAT THE FUCKKK?!” vi shouted, straightening up so fast she nearly knocked over the table. her hand immediately flew to her backside as she whipped around to face you, her expression a mix of shock and rage.

her cheeks, normally pale, were now tinged with a deep red, the flush crawling up her neck. you couldn’t help it—you burst into laughter, bending over as you tried to catch your breath.

“sorry, sorry!” you managed to say between giggles, though your tone was anything but apologetic. “i couldn’t resist!”

vi stared at you, her blue eyes wide with disbelief. she looked as though she was trying to process what had just happened, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn’t quite find the words. finally, she pointed a shaky finger at you.

“what the hell makes you think that was a good idea?!” she demanded.

“well…” you began, shrugging with a playful grin. “with those pants and that pose, you were practically begging for it.”

vi’s jaw dropped. her hands fell to her hips as she stared at you, clearly caught between laughing and yelling. she opted for yelling.

“begging for it? are you kidding me?! it hurt, you idiot!”

“Ah, come on, vi,” you said, trying to soften the moment. “it was a little token of affection.”

“that wasn't affection! that was a fucking attack,” she retorted, twitching slightly as if the sting was still present.

"i honestly didn't think it would move that much. it was the highlight of my day.” you replied, unable to keep a smile off your face.

“SHUT UP!” vi snapped, her voice cracking slightly as her blush deepened. her hands moved to cover her backside defensively, as if to shield it from another ambush.

“is it still stinging?” you asked, feigning innocence. “or was it just a really good hit?”

vi’s hands slowly dropped to her sides as she narrowed her eyes at you, her face now an unmistakable shade of red. for a moment, you thought she might lunge at you, but instead, she took a deep breath, her shoulders visibly tensing.

“get ready to run,” she growled, her voice dangerously low. “because when i catch you, you’re not walking away from this.”

“is that a challenge?” you teased, taking a step back.

“no,” vi said, her tone chilling. “it’s a damn promise.”

before you could say another word, vi started moving toward you. you did the only sensible thing: you bolted.

your laughter echoed through the hideout as vi chased after you, her growls of frustration barely audible over your hysterical giggling. you knew you were in trouble, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her flustered, embarrassed expression.

totally worth it.

[uly55es]

AITA: For laughing with my family? The title seems convoluted, of course I am not an 'asshole' for laughing around them- But they way they reacted makes me believe differently. I (35) (figment of imagination representing Logical thought) live with 5 other figments, three of which have been a large part of my life- to the point I've named them my family even if we are not technically related. We've recently began to acknowledge and become familiar with two other figments, whom my family seem uncomfortable with to various degrees. The issues began when I became close with one of these lesser acknowledged figments, Whom I'll refer to as Duke. I have a formal and mutual relationship with Duke, My time around him is most pleasurable and I've uncovered a expression that I haven't had in almost years. Laughing. Joy, Laughter and singing is natural with my family- a daily activity, I know such expressions raise dopamine and oxytocin, both very important to daily function as well as quality of life. It seems infectious in the household- Its a function I haven't been able to impore in my day-to-day for about a decade. I believed this recent development in my expressions would be accepted. Duke does it so often- It seems normal that I'd pick up on it, the others seem put off or disturbed by his laughter, I believe this is purely because of Dukes... nature...I'm beginning to believe this wasn't a productive expression after the most recent events, One of my close family said a particulary funny statement, the other 3 laughed so naturally I joined. The look I recieved from the other members of my close family has made me reconsider how fitting it is for me to show large displays of emotion- one of my closest family looked terrified when I laughed, as if my display was so unbecoming that it warrented genuine fear. I do not want to cause harm or distress to my fellow figments, It's against my purpose. It's been a four hours since the incident- Duke has been telling me to just 'Disembowl' my family which I have been against. Is this a usual reaction? should I attempt to supress this outburst? I believe an apology to them is due. Thank you.

[signedaiko]

A thought just came to my mind of what if the DJD came across a human that regenerated? Like they tried killing them in every way possible and the human is just. Still there. They humans over here cackling while getting shocked by Kaon because they thought of something funny. Just some silly little shenanigans with an immortal human who also happens to be petty and insufferable :)

On a side note reading ur name felt like catching the familiar scent of something nostalgic bc that’s what I named my favorite doll when I was younger

Decepticon Justice Division [MTMTE]

In which the DJD finds a human far, far away from their planet, that they just cannot seem to kill.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Human | Unaligned.

No matter how brutal, how totally destroyed you are, even to the atom, you will slowly repair your body

It's your hellish eternity, and you feel every part of it, but it is your reality

It wasn't that bad when you first started; you knew you could handle the destruction of being without air, so you took to space where fewer harms could come your way

Or so you thought

Everything changed when you ended up thrown into the war between the Cybertronians, facing chemical agents that'd dissolve your skin, pierce your links, and disintegrate you

But worst of all was when the Decepticon Justice Division found you, specifically Vos

The one you learned to be a scientist was nothing but a sadistic organic-hater that made sure every mix of elements was tested on your stomach, sliced open for display

They all took joy in your pain and even more in your predicament

It was your worst nightmare and their wet dream

Well, it would be bad if you hadn't long since rewired your pain sensory areas into a dead-ended lump in your brain

The worst you got was splitting headaches, but those were nothing compared to what you'd faced

As Vos cuts you open for the thousandth time, as Kaon shocks you with his new highest voltage, you could only crack a smile

Oh yes, these people took such good care of you; they were always pushing you towards improvement, always testing your limits

Some don't mind it, but others, like Kaon, it infuriates him

How many times could you recall being strapped to his chair, shocked till he had no juice left as he tried to convince himself he could outdo your little tricks

And yet, nothing

They keep you because you're a fun toy, and Vos 'claims' his ownership of you, and you'll stay their experimental toy

You're just as much of a psychopath as them, if not worse, so you'll fit right in with the circus of freaks as their first-ever masochist

Author's Note - That is such a specific thing to say about my name but also so sweet and so me-core your'e amazing! Thank you for telling me!!!

Bonus: Y/N sitting on Kaon, a giant robot:

[slytherinslut0]

Hi! Ok ok question, do you think the guys would like plus size girls? Or like very avrage girls physically, like the ones who have cruves, cellulite, acne, and genuently not the like 'conventionally pretty' kind. (Feeling so insecure right now)

I feel like Theodore is the most likely to like chubby or plus size girls, maybe unpopular opinion but Tom as well, like really full, curvy girls? Am I delulu??

hi love!!!!! i had a previous ask similar to this for matty, you can find it here. 🤍 also this one.

my stance is the same but to answer your question directly, there is no one size fits all for these boys. these boys would love you regardless of shape size skin tone—it doesn’t matter. you are fucking beautiful the way you are, and without even knowing who you are i know you have a heart of gold and for that alone, they would drool for you.

i have said this before, but every single one of these boys love that extra PHAT (plenty o’ hips and thighs).

also like, funny enough, i asked my guys friends what their thoughts on cellulite were and half of them don’t even know what it is.😭 real men don’t care about the marks on your body—whether it be cellulite stretch marks acne scars HAIR—they just care about you. 🤍

in my opinion, tom would love someone who treats him humanly. theo would love someone who can match his wit. mattheo would love someone who doesn’t give up on him. blaise would love someone who’s as easy going as he is. enzo would love someone who’s sunshine with that freaky side. draco would love someone who is patient with him.

this fandom is and always has been all inclusive. do not ever think that you’re not good enough for any of them. you are. you’re more than. 🤍

[poetry-protest-pornography]

kpop sampler

my dear @auriette was asking about my non-skz kpop feelings, and i have so many of them, so i thought it would be fun to make a little playlist.

i'm sticking with the 10 link limit (which is v hard) but if you also have a lot of kpop feelings, please rb with a song/group rec of your own!

in no particular order:

The Rose (k-rock)

i love them. They are super funny on social media, and their music is incredible. Screaming this song at the top of my lungs fixes me a little every time. Woosung is also a soloist and he's amazing.

WOODZ

This song gives me the shivers.

He also has a cover of Hype Boy that is A+

The duality of man.

I think WOODZ is vastly underappreciated, and i wish more people were as into him as i am.

Ateez

i know i already talked about them a little bit, but i have to do it again because i love them. just a bunch of insanely talented, stupidly hot weirdos. i love that they're all nerds who make legos together and that everyone but hongjoong and jongho have zero concept of personal space. wooyoung and san are medalists in the kiss your homie olympics. (woo is also bffs with changbin and also yeonjun from txt)

i'm still obsessed with this song and this MV. the ateez lore is very intricate and this is basically cinema.

TXT

insane dance skills, super talented, great music. it was hard to pick which song of theirs to include here, but this is defintely a favorite. def check out devil by the window" also.

they collabed with the jonas brothers and anitta and both songs were incredible. yeonjun just released a solo album. more talented goofballs. i love them.

OnlyOneOf

i am obsessed with OOO. they are incredible. they do most of their own choreo, they committed to making their MVs queer af and include messages of acceptance and support for the lgbtq community in the notes for all their videos. they paired themselves up and talk about kissing each other casually.

and they back it all up with high concept MVs, insane choreo, and great music that will absolutley get stuck in your head. picking a song was hard, but this choreo is too iconic

Hwasa

i am obsessed with her. she is also in mamamoo, who are great, but i am currently absolutely obsessed with her cover of lunch. but this song which is a pretty direct call out of the rampant body shaming in the industry is so much fun.

KARD

kard is the only mixed gender kpop group i know of, and we need more.

they are all adults, and their music and MVs are, too. killer dancey tracks. their friendship is a lot of fun.

BM is also a soloist, and has some very explicit horny songs that don't bother with the (barely) innuendo that kard plays with. he's also hilarious on SM, and on the daebak show

Enhypen

they're just good. i love a concept album, and they killed it with this.

Evnne

i love them.

they were all on boys planet, and i love all the groups that formed from that show (i was going to cheat and make a whole playlist of bp groups, but i'm just going to share this one and i'll make a whole separate bp post)

this video and song are just so fun, and they're so good, and i wanted to yell about them.

(all the boys planet boys are also stray kids levels of obsessed with each other, which i appreciate --zb1 is probably the worst-best about this, but they're all super close)

oh gosh only space for one more... ahhhh who to choooose

Blitzers

this is just so much fun

no one really sounds like blitzers. the horns and big band elements are wholly unique and fit surprisingly well. they are super talented and clearly having a good time with what they do, and it's just a good time.

I hope you like at least some of these songs/groups!

(Now, to play by my own rules and not add another ten in a reblog unless specifically asked to do more!)

Please add your favorite kpop/krock groups to share the joy of good music that we can all be super normal about together!

[ficoandleo]

👂

Send a 【👂】 to eavesdrop on my muse/oc(s)!

Then you will be able to overhear a conversation from that muse/oc's past, future, or just from now!

((I didn't actually reblog this one but it's fine lmao))

"Hey, Lulu! You're back late! What--what's the matter."

". . ." A shaky breath.

"Lulu? Did something happen at Fros--"

"I'm so stupid, Mimi." Romeo's voice wavered, small. "You're right. I'm naïve. I'm a fucking fool. I'm. . . ."

Romeo's shaking voice hiccuped a bit, and Taiga hurried over to pull him into his arms and route him to sit on his bed. His room was smaller back then, he wasn't Captain, but it was big enough for the both of them. Romeo hadn't been upset like this since they left Italy. Romeo didn't really cry over anything, ever. And he never called him 'Mimi' unless he really wanted something--or felt completely helpless. "Okay? Maybe. I mean maybe naïve, but not stupid. Why'd you think that?"

"Those fucking. . . ." The tone didn't reflect the biting words. "I should have known. It's not like I'm unfamiliar with high society. Right? I haven't been away from it that long. . . ."

A weak, shaky, wet laugh, or maybe just another breath failing to calm his rising pitch. "They were pretending. All this time, acting like we were friends. . . ."

That didn't seem the case from where Taiga stood. But Taiga rarely saw the Frostheim ghouls and captains away from Romeo or classes. He didn't really know what their relationships were. He didn't pry, either. Romeo seemed happy. That was all that mattered. "Wha--"

"Ishibashi transferred today. Did you know that?"

". . .Ishibashi?" A nod. "Vagastrom Ishibashi??" Another nod. "To Frostheim?"

"He must be up to. . .something, I don't know. Probably wants to leech off of that bastard Kamurai's money, who knows--he's always been so. . . ."

Tohma was a bit odd for certain--for all of his brutality and delinquency, he was oddly close to and even kind of well behaved when it came to the faculty and staff at Darkwick. They'd even started to trust him a little bit. Taiga would know, they called them both for intense missions they couldn't trust other ghouls now and then. Even so, Taiga had been around him. He couldn't imagine him in the castle with the rest of the 'knights.'

"And they just. . .let him. Barely any protest, barely any argument. . .just acting like he belonged there like we've never seen him in that little fight club of theirs. But they told me that I wouldn't fit in! That they wished it could be different but I didn't belong in Frostheim! But that brute, he belongs there!? With the wealthy and famous and politicians' kids--in high society!? That--that STL!?"

Taiga didn't bother to ask what the acronym meant. His sixth sense did it for him, cycling through what Romeo thought of Tohma before landing on the answer, Shady, Two-faced Leech. It definitely seemed fitting in this scenario.

Romeo laughed bitterly. "And you know why? Do you want to know why he belongs and I don't?" Romeo curled his legs up, resting his head on his knees to look sideways at his blurry partner. "I had to figure it out all by myself--because those. . .those uppity slugs wanted to have their fun with me. But I get it now.

"He made a big show of kneeling to show where he belonged and what he was. He says he's Kamurai's servant now. And I realized that's where the problem was." His laugh was as much a sob as it was devoid of humor. "Kamurai's always using 'kneel' as a command with his stigma. And I never did. Because I thought we were equals. But they didn't think that. And they saw that I wouldn't kneel for them and that's when they decided.

"They were just amusing themselves with me. Playing along because it was funny for them to see me thinking I was like them. Kamurai, Kusanagi, even Ishibashi, they must have thought I looked so stupid--" Romeo can't stop himself from crying outright anymore. Taiga pulls his head close to his chest stiffly, but hugging him firmly, stroking his back and kissing his hair. Trying to restrain icy fury. "A hopeless, worthless little charity case. Some cute, begging stray who lost everything he had--and it's so, so funny that he'd think he still belongs with anyone who matters!"

Romeo lost his running train of words to the tunnel of his own crying, clinging on to Taiga aho squeezed him and rocked him, giving him words of reassurance. He felt betrayed. And childish. And broken-hearted. And stupid. So, so, so stupid. Why couldn't he tell before? Why hadn't it crossed his mind before? The general students whispered when they saw him, they all looked at him like he was pitiable and diseased. Why wouldn't the ghouls? Why wouldn't the captains?

Taiga was practically all he had when he left home. Taiga was all he had now, too, it felt like.

"And I wasn't sure at first. . .I thought maybe I was reading into it too much. But Kusanagi. . .Nagi just said I should have been honored that Jin was giving me so much attention. That most people in my condition would be. Excited that Jin wanted to be my sugar daddy." The concept didn't disgust him, but the image of pity and reliance that came with it did. "That I should just go with the flow. Not worry about it. Keep accepting gifts, let him have his way to let him give me a leg up, or what-the-fuck-ever. . . .

"He just wants me reliant! Like a pet! Like--" A choked sound left him. "They told me that the general students were talking about us. That they wouldn't whisper as much if not for you. And I didn't think about it at the time but I think they wanted to separate us. So that it would be easier to. Control me or something. Or they wanted to see if I'd abandon you so they'd approve of me more. But I know how high society works, I know that when you're relying on someone else and you don't have anything to fall back on you're the first person to get dropped when things get shaky. And I. I'd never leave you. Of course not."

Romeo claws at Taiga's back as if trying to make sure he didn't go anywhere. He got a kiss for his troubles, a long one on the lips. Then to kiss and lap away his still-falling tears. He was listening but he knew if he opened his mouth it wouldn't have anything nice to say. He dug his own nails into Romeo just as reassuringly, grounding.

"So I left. I told Kamurai I wasn't going to kneel for him. I told them I wasn't going to be a pet or a servant and I wouldn't let them look down on me anymore--because I'm Romeo Scorpius Lucci and I'm above any of that. And I'm above them." He sobbed and squeaked again, insisting and reassuring to himself. "And I'm not going back! Ever! I hate them--all of them! The ghouls, the captains, the general students, their fucking advisor! Every single one! And Isami's not off the hook for bailing, either! They really think they're so. . .they treat me like I'm. . . ."

"Alright." Taiga stroked down Romeo's back as he went back into crying. That seemed to be the end of the tale. "You want me to take care of it? I can do it. I will do it."

"Hoshi. . . ."

"I got a plan, too!" Taiga laughed, hugging Romeo and kissing his forehead before stepping away, Romeo releasing him reluctantly. "I mean all those rich guys they're in such good health, right? 'cept their lungs, I guess--but I bet I could get a fortune off of the gen students' organs, right? Market that shit as upscale, designer--didn't we watch some musical about that once?"

As Taiga chatted, planning on cheering Romeo up with his ferocity, he flit about the room, retrieving a knife. A few knives. The tools he used for aforementioned organ harvesting. A bag big enough to hold them. And he dumped them in. Romeo hiccuped and sniffled, watching him with some amusement. "We did. . .it wasn't very good. . . ."

"Yeah, but this'll be good." Taiga insisted, the cruel dullness of his voice still managing to sound chipper. He fetched a pistol, and Romeo wasn't in the mood to scold him for the unsafe way he waved it around. "I'll go blasting in there and the cold'll keep everything fresh for me. Maybe take some alive, put 'em to work? Feed 'em to that big toothy hole we saw in the desert? Or hostage negotiation with their rich ass families? I bet won't even have to rough 'em up before the cash starts coming in--"

Taiga began to expound on the ways he'd kill and torture the Frostheimers and what he'd do with their (living or dead) bodies to make them suffer for hurting Romeo, gathering the tools to do so from around his room and showing them off to Romeo as proof with his explanations before he stuffed and dropped them into a bag. First the general students. Then the vice captain. Then the captain. Should he go to Mortkranken and get Isami too? Have him help with some alleged medical prowess or lose his life too? Then Ishibashi, Kusanagi, and finally how he would brutalize and torture Jin Kamurai just for Romeo, just for his tears.

And as the dark and unhinged brutality went on and on Romeo smiled. And laughed. And eventually he wasn't crying anymore at all, only giggling and laughing and taking shaky breaths, undisturbed by the disturbing ideas. It wouldn't have been the appropriate time before for Taiga to say how beautiful he looked with tears running down his face, how pretty his eyes were when they were wet and shiny, how excited he felt seeing his hair a little messed, his flushed face and shaking lips and shoulders and hearing his choked breaths. How even when he was a miserable mess he was the most beautiful thing in the world. Maybe he would tell him later. But he was beautiful now too, the dried tear trails down his face, his cheeks and nose still red from crying and exertion, but now from joy and laughter, his smile bright but just a bit crude with schadenfreude. His amethyst eyes were still wet with some tears, but now much of the leaking was breathlessness and mirth.

"That's what I wanna do for you. That's what I'm gonna do for you. No matter what the Institute does to me after, I don't care. You're worth so much more than them, Lulu. You're amazing. You're beautiful. You're way more than they deserve. I'm gonna kill them for lookin' down on you like that. Promise I'll get every last one."

"Thank you, Hoshi. . . ." Romeo managed, smiling up at him from where he came close again to squeeze him and kiss his forehead. "But. That's not what I want. That's not how I want to win."

"But Lulu. . . ."

"I know. You packed your bag and everything. . . ." He held Taiga's face, holding their foreheads together, sharing their shaking breaths. "But I'm going to do it myself. I'm going to do this my way.

"They want to treat me like a leper, like they'll lose their businesses from exposure to me, they see me as less than them while still wearing my family name to parties and events. . .I'll show them. I'll show them how successful I can be even on my own, without my family. . .I'll be so wealthy, so influential again, they'll be begging for my attention and approval, like I don't remember every single one of them who slighted me. . .they'll invite me to their parties, they'll invite me to their balls, they'll want to sell me their fucking daughters in marriage, and I'll refuse every single one because they'll be so far beneath me any profits from them would be trivial. I'll put those. Slugs beneath my feet where they belong. I'll fucking show them. . .I can do this my way, Hoshi. I will do this my way, without their handouts, without their 'support,' without them, unless I'm flat out stealing from them."

". . .Sounds good." Less exciting than Taiga's way, but it grounded him. "Won't kill 'em then. Without another good reason. Promise. And I'll be here every step of the way. You don't need them. You've got me."

"I know." Any more tears and shaky sounds were happiness. Reassurance. Although Taiga heard the uncertainty in them. Nonetheless, Romeo's embrace was strong and firm as his convictions. "I've always had you. Ever since I met you, you've been mine. . . ."

"Love you too, Lulu." The tight hug was added onto with a kiss that quickly turned deep, with gripping, wandering hands. Taiga gasped into Romeo's mouth. "Lemme show you how much better I know you than those cold bastards. . .wanna show you how much you're worth, how much I love you, everything they're missing out on. . .lemme show you how little you need them. I'll show you how good our little home is."

[skyward-floored]

Very curious about the Legend/Marin/Windfish??? Situation in the incredibles au. Does Marin figure out the hero identity and gets her mind wiped? Does she die??????

There are just so many avenues you can go down and I'd love to hear what you've come up with

Sorry I’ve been sitting on this for a few days anon, it was mostly because I couldn’t quite decide which way to go XD

The big problem is I haven’t totally decided what I’m doing with Marin. I have several ideas, and this fic is one of them, but I’m not sure if I’m going to stick with this particular idea or tweak things or do something entirely different in the end, so this is in with the ambiguously canon works.

Scene from the second movie, hehe.

———

“Why did we drive clear across town to have dinner again?” Legend asked, his arms crossed over his middle as he waited for his brothers to all sit at their table. “Couldn’t we have just stayed home?”

“Yeah, what’s so great about the... the Windfish Eatery?” Wind asked in confusion.

“Ha! Windfish!” Wild laughed, and pointed to the flying whale on the menu. “Look Wind, it’s you!”

“I just thought we’d try somewhere a little different,” Time said as Wind threw a pepper shaker at Wild’s face, making Hyrule sneeze as pepper went flying. “Aren’t you kids sick of drive-in food?”

“I like drive-in food,” Legend muttered, and Time held back a sigh.

His son was still mad that Impa had erased all memory of him from his crush’s mind. Marin had seen Legend in his super hero costume without his mask, and Time had told Impa as a precaution, but selective mind wiping was... not an exact science.

It was now like Marin had never met Legend at all, and Legend was, understandably, rather upset she no longer knew he existed. They’d even had a date planned that she’d entirely forgotten about, and Time felt horribly responsible for the entire thing.

Which was why he’d decided eating dinner at Marin’s family’s restaurant was what they were doing tonight.

He hadn’t fully thought it out, but he had to do something— the guilt was eating him up, and Legend only grew more and more moody. It probably would have been wise of him to call Malon and just admit to her all of the problems their sons were having that he was dealing with, but he’d told her he could handle things while she was away.

So that’s what Time was doing. Handling it.

“Do they serve anything here that doesn’t have mushrooms in it?” Hyrule asked as he looked at the menu, a wrinkle to his brow.

“Try the back,” Twilight suggested, and Hyrule perked up as he saw the list of desserts.

“Since this isn’t drive-in, do we have to have vegetables?” Four asked with a frown, and Time nodded as the same person who’d handed them their menus came by and poured them all some water.

“It does. You don’t have to get peppers, but something green would be preferable,” Time said, and more than one of his sons groaned.

“I wish we could’ve had take-out again,” Wind grumbled.

“I’m sick of take-out, and drive-in,” Twilight said, looking eagerly at the menu. “Look, they have meat that isn’t hamburgers!”

They all began to chatter about hamburgers and junk food and the other items on the menu, but Legend merely put a hand on his cheek and stared out the window with a foul look on his face.

Time sighed to himself as Four asked Legend a question, and Legend took a large sip of water to avoid answering.

“Good evening everyone, may I take your orders?” a musical voice asked, and they Time glanced over to see that Marin herself was their waitress for the evening.

Legend looked up at her, and water spewed out of his nose.

“Ew, gross!” Wind yelped as he dodged the water, and Legend began to cough, cheeks flaming as he tried to stop choking on his drink.

Twilight immediately started thwacking him on the back, and Time grabbed a handful of napkins, drying off the water rapidly spreading across the table.

“Are you okay?” Marin asked in concern, and Legend looked away from her, coughing harshly into his arm.

“Legend, are you okay?" Time repeated, and his son's cheeks darkened even more.

"Fine, nothing to see here," Legend half-growled, still coughing into his arm.

The rest of the boys finished mopping up the water, Marin handing them more napkins, and Legend's coughing finally waned, his cheeks still bright red.

"Would you gentlemen like more water?" Marin asked once the mess was entirely cleaned, and Time cleared his throat.

"That would be nice, thank you. This is my son here," he said, jumping right in as he gestured to Legend. "Who I'm... sure you must know," he said a bit haltingly. "From... school. Since you seem the same age."

"Wow dad, smooth," Twilight whispered, and Time just barely held himself back from giving his son a look. Inwardly though, he was wincing at his own words.

Why couldn't romance ever be easy?

"Oh, hi," Marin said politely, and Legend's face somehow turned even redder.

"His real name is Link, but most of us call him Legend," Wild added helpfully, and Marin blinked over at him.

"Hello Legend," she greeted again, and Legend looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and die.

"Legend," Time prompted, "say hello to—"

"Don't push it, Dad," Legend bit out.

"I'm Wind, I'm his brother!" Wind said with a grin, and leaned across the table to shake Marin's hand. "These guys are the rest of his brothers too. There's a lot of us, and actually all our names are Link because one time mom sneezed when they were filling the birth certificate and—"

"Nice to meet you," Twilight interrupted, kicking Wind under the table.

"Hello," Marin said to the rest of them when they waved. She looked rather confused by the entire encounter, and Time felt the situation getting rapidly out of his control.

"This is good water, it's really refreshing," Four suddenly piped up, eyes a bit purple. "is it spring water?"

"Oh, I think it's tap," Marin said a bit apologetically, but Four just shrugged.

"Well I think it's really good," Four said, and Wind nodded.

"Excellent tap," he said in a posh accent, and clinked his cup with Hyrule's.

That was Legend's last straw.

"Excuse me," he bit out, sliding past his brothers and nearly running from the table, Time's stomach sinking as he disappeared from view.

"Well, nice to meet you," Marin said in the sudden awkward pause, then walked away as another table called for service.

"Where'd Legend go?" Wild asked, leaning across the table.

"Hm. Probably to find a good place to be angry," Twilight said, and Time sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose as a sudden headache throbbed behind his eyes.

Maybe calling Malon wouldn't be the end of the world.

[canisalbus]

So i remember an ask mentioning your mortal enemy, Felis Atra and their cats, and i thought it'd be fun to draw what Felis Atra's version of your italian dogs would be.

I think they would be called Butter Knife and Flamengo! Butter Knife is not his real name, it's an nickname given by his peers because of how harmless he is. I choose Flamengo because that's the name of Vasco's rival football team here in Brazil, so i thought that was the perfect name :)

Cat Machete was slightly inspired by the Oriental Shorthair cat because of their long noses and thin head shape.

Cat Vasco was inspired by the Scottish Fold cat, because FLOPPY EARS. I gave Flamengo longer ears and orange fur to make him more like his look-alike.

The last doodle is a reference to this ask (https://canisalbus.tumblr.com/post/728923918314946560/me-i-am-machete-ear-fan-number-1-those-ears) and contains the tumblr ask stand-in dog, whose cat version was inspired by the American Curl cat! They have round ears that are slightly floppy outwards.

Final notes: I know cardinal clothes don't come in vibrant blue, but i was ADAMANT on switching Machete's and Vasco's clothing color patterns. I would draw the rest of Butter Knife's and Flamengo's clothes, but i suck at designing cool outfits.

Speaking of outfits, for Machete's iconic void outfit, i figured it would be fun to make it more baggy for Butter Knife, in contrast to Machete's, that looks very tight-fitted. I think it's cute, it kinda looks like a sweater. Also i can't imagine a Machete doppelganger without high heels boots, so those HAD to stay.

Oh, and just to be clear, i'm not like, claiming ownership of these guys or anything. I just thought it would be a fun exercise. Hope you like them!! I love your art and your characters.

.

[ghastlyaffairs]

for something as trivial and simple those feelings sure are hard to get rid of

also made a gif a version for fun + alt version with no tears under the cut

the gif is in very low resolution...this is a feature (i could make it bigger but that would require saving each frame individually and than glueing it all together. also i feel like low resolution suits it better. aesthetically and fits the mood)

[solular]

Made my ocs in the Slay the Princess style and roles!!

Close ups below the cut

[m1ckeyb3rry]

the question of the day is karasu or yukimiya

[meamiki]

i will not elaborate further beyond the original notes i had:

these are the type of thoughts i have while eating breakfast ASDASD

[1071png]

xillia pokemon teams ^.^

(left my long ass comments about the teams in the notes for the curious)

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

*chef's kiss* bon appétit 🔪

[coconut530]

Bump in the Night & Sleeptober & Nevertober Day 3: Someone Who Shouldn’t Be There & Hypnotize & Bloodlust

@whitejawz