#especially the ones i wanted to write out

[sheepispink]

lt simon riley x hybrid!reader in which you're forced into his life and he cant handle it, ignoring your existence until you talk to inanimate objects to make up for it. angst ofc

sorry if this is lowkey bad, my writing has been flopping rn

edit: i am aware that the oh post had more than a few similarities to the op whose work i credited. I have responded here and made necessary adjustments to this fic. If i hear no response, then it will be left like this and i will do no other changes.

PART TWO

The news of a hybrid being assigned to him was the worst possible, maybe even comparable to the time he had to wear full gear in the middle east. There was just something about it he didnt like, not that he wanted to stereotype their kind but some could be so clingy, so needy and to think he’s have that, following him around? . But what he hates more is the way you’re sitting outside his flat door when he hears the knock, wide eyes trying to entice him to your outstretched hand. Though unfortunately for you, he just closes the door again.

For the first week, you tried over and over again. He didn't seem to want to talk to you at all, let alone acknowledge that you were in his house. The only instructions he ever spoke was to not leave the house nor damage anything inside the house. It wasn't like you’d attempt to test either rules on purpose anyway. Instead, you tried to be useful by cleaning up where you could, even if you couldn't help but get distracted by how fun sliding across the freshly mopped floors were. Plus, blanket forts were so fun to make, what do you mean they made more mess? You switched to cooking soon after, attempting to make him breakfast except every time you tried to wake up early, he was always already gone. So, you wake up extra, extra early, finding out he wakes at five and so you wake up at four the next day. You decide on sizzled meat rashers, a fried egg and a toaster waffle because you don't really understand how the oven works. It’s not your fault his has so many funny buttons.

Unfortunately for you, his hearing is almost as good as yours, or perhaps he just never sleeps properly. That’s why he walked in just when you were nodding off in a bowl of cracked eggs, the time too early for a young one like you, even if you were well into your twenties. He left the house with a slam that day.

After that you stopped trying, noticing it to be clearly obvious that he didn't want anything to do with you in the slightest. He didn't even glance at you, or ask if you wanted to eat anymore. The only reminder that you actually lived here were the remnants of your fur on the fluffy pillow that was your bed, and your name written on your pre-bought meals since he didn't trust you in his kitchen anymore. Questions were left to hang in the air, soft whines echoing around the empty room each night and only the dim TV for company.

Ghost had returned early today, a problem in base had left the place in slight disarray and the task force thought it’d be better if they just packed up for the day, maybe do paperwork at home instead. He clicks open the door, surprised to actually hear noise in the usually silent flat, though he’s already dreading whatever mess you’ve cooked up. As he enters the hallway, the noise becomes clearer, sounding like a voice, your voice, actually. “This is a super secret covert meeting, alright everyone? No one can know!” You squeak, and he’s raising a brow, mind already jumping to conclusions of you being a double agent sent to spy on him. He should’ve known they’d pull a dirty trick like that, especially with how Graves has been acting, there’s bound to be others to follow. But to infiltrate his own home is something that brings him great anger, making him all the more silent when he sneaks around the house, mind running through potential ways he’ll interrogate the information out of you.

A double agent was far too much credit for you though. You were just a silly animal who was sitting on the sofa opposite a tatty teddy bear, a pillow with a messily drawn paper face stuck to it and a t-shirt that you had draped over a pillow, the cartoon cat staring back at you. They have mugs in front of them, albeit not full of anything apart from your own mug of tea. “Just kidding, let’s order then we can start.”

You hum, pretending to take a list from the bear though it’s actually those takeaway menus that come through the letterbox. He watches carefully as you pick up one at random, eyes squinting as you attempt and almost fail to read the text. Facilities never bothered with educating their hybrids, only intent in teaching them the arts of being loyal and desirable so they’d get their pay.

“Men….u? St.. art…eer?” It’s near impossible to understand any of it, and eventually you have to put it down, huffing out a complaint. “Okay fine, i can't read at all.” Frustrated, you pull off the t-shirt, leaving the pillow to fall on the floor. You’ve watched countless videos, only with the help of the voice recognition function on the remote control, and have attempted daily for this whole week. “So what have you guys done this week?”

He notices now that you have the tv displaying an episode from those random TV series, you probably don't even know the name of it. You’re almost attempting to recreate the same scene of the friends sitting around the table, eyes flickering at the TV as you eye how they sit. You mimic a squeaky voice, holding the teddy bear by the scruff as you move its head around. “I went to the park with my handler.”

Somehow your eyes light up despite the fact you had made that up yourself, clapping your hands together. “Wow, I love the park! I wish I could chase the squirrels…” Your expression falters for a second, eyes drooped until you shake your head, moving to puppet the pillow in the middle instead. “I went to the movies with mine, and then we got icecream.”

You smile again, retracting your hand and placing it on your hips. “Damn, icecream too! ..Um.. It doesn’t matter what I did. We should do something together, but it has to be something easy.. and not too fun because if we leave a mess Simon will be mad.” He almost feels bad, but it’s not his fault, you will make a mess, and he’s already tired enough as it is. What he hadn't expected was what you’d say next.

“I don't think we’ll be able to do these meetups anymore guys.” You mumble out, frown growing on your lips as you puppeteer the bear. “What, why?”

“I-i think I’ll be getting kicked out soon. Or maybe I should just run away.. Should I? I mean, it’s not a totally bad idea and Simon won't have to deal with me!”

You stare back at the two fake people in front of you, the silence hanging heavy in the air until you reach forward, plucking the paper smiley face off the pillow and sticking on a sad face instead. “I know, I know— running away is bad and I'll only get hurt. What else then?”

The silence is long again and for once Simon can feel the distraught look on your face as you clench the hem of your loose sweater, nose wrinkled. It’s clear you’re not feeling too good, especially if you’ve resorted to talking to your own stuffed animals about running away to make him happier. It’s a pitiful sight to say the least but he can't blame you either, he’s purposefully ignored every single one of your feeble attempts to talk to him. It’s not like it helps that you’ve been cooped in a house for two weeks straight, not able to talk to anyone else. Now that he’s forced to notice, forced to think about it, it’s clear he’s torturing you, in some sick unintentional way. You’re locked away, a prisoner, a ghost— someone no one even knows exists despite how much you cry and beg for a sound to be made.

The small shuffle of your steps is sad, the way you put everything into position perfectly in case he gets annoyed, not that he’d ever express it anyway– sometimes you wish he just would say something, anything. But he doesn't, and you take the tatty teddy bear, hugging it to your chest. Not even your tail can bring you much warmth, the matted fur rough against your skin as you’ve failed to upkeep it’s maintenance the more miserable you grow.

You wont stay here for long, you’ll be moved elsewhere and grow older, less ‘desirable’ as you lose all your hybrid fluffiness until you’re finally left on the streets, scavenging bins for food like your parents did. A cycle that only repeats for you.

—————-

part 2

other hybrid drabble i did

[chrissv4mp]

♱ STUDY SESH

billie shouldn't feel this way. not about you, and especially not about your fingers that were currently gripping the pencil in your hand as you wrote down notes for an upcoming math test. it was a casual motion, and it wasn't supposed to be arousing at all.

but, in billie's twisted mind, the gentle grip you had made her stomach flip in every different direction.

and you were quick to catch on. it was obvious with the way her eyes stayed glued onto your lengthy fingers whenever you turned to tell her you were ready to move on, and the second that you told her to stop so you could write, her eyes would already be locked onto your hands.

so now, here you were: your knees digging into the hardwood floor, one hand holding billie's thigh open while the other held her waist as you leaned closer and closer to her warm, sopping cunt.

it was torture the way you teased her, your fingers dancing along the skin of her inner thigh only to pull away and pout at her mockingly. she was on the verge of tears.

"jus' one? i'll—please, i'll..." billie's voice trails off, cutting off into a whine when you drag your fingers along her inner thigh.

her eyes never leave you, glasses crooked on the bridge of her nose as she sniffles. she tries to blink back the tears brimming in her eyes, but it's no use because as soon as she gains the smallest amount of control of herself, your fingers are running through her puffy folds, slick with her sticky arousal.

"oh my god," billie whines, voice barely a whisper as her pussy clenches around nothing, back arching away from the couch cushions, "ohmygodohmygod."

you don't pay her any mind, simply smiling and dragging your fingers through her sensitive folds once again. you give her a few more strokes before you hear her frustrated whine.

"ma—mama, i—i can't," she cries softly, face red and tears beginning to run down her cheeks, "n'more teasin'. please."

her hands stay at her sides, pushing at the pillows just to pull them back so hard that her knuckles bleed white. she didn't wanna mess up your pretty hair, even if you were starting to get her all worked up and frustrated.

when you finally look up into her eyes with hooded ones, her lips part even wider, and before she can stop it, she feels the knot in her stomach snap.

you gasp softly, eyes widening in the slightest as you watch billie's cum leak from her pretty cunt and onto your fingers, dripping down her folds and soaking the couch cushions. you couldn't even imagine the conversation she'd need to have with her parents later.

"i—oh my god, what—i..." you don't reply, staying silent despite the sticky feeling between your own thighs growing wetter and wetter the more you look at your tutor—and nerdy best friend.

she looks like a beautiful mess. her hair was a mess from all the squirming, her glasses even more crooked than before, and her face stained with tear streaks. you couldn't even be mad at her.

"i didn't even get to touch you properly, bil." you coo, frowning up at her as you retract your hand from between her trembling legs, "you're just that sensitive, huh?"

billie doesn't know what to say, her lips opening and closing like she has something to say but she doesn't know how to say it. she feels her heart skip a beat whenever you bring your fingers up to your mouth and slowly push them past your plump, pink lips.

the action is so dirty, something she'd never seen before, but she wanted to see it a million times more. the way you thrust your fingers in and out of your mouth, it makes her heart race and her pussy wet. even more than before.

"still wanna feel you 'round my fingers." you murmur against your digits, pulling them out from between your lips with a 'pop'. the confused look on the poor girls' face is enough to make you laugh.

"isn't that what you wanted in the first place, hon?"

billie's heart feels like it stops whenever your palm lands against her cunt in a sharp, harsh slap. it's enough to make fresh tears swell in her eyes, but it's also enough to make the knot in her stomach tighten again.

"don't start cryin' again," you coo, but really, her mewls and weak whimpers are music to your ears.

"'m'sorry." billie cries, shaking her head, "jus'—please, don't—no more." she begs, but the desperation still swirling in her eyes tells you otherwise.

so, you finally push one of your digits into billie's tight hole, and by the quiet squeak that you hear from the nerdy girl, you know she's already feeling full.

guess you needed to stretch her out.

LETTERS. this is all i can give you guys right now 😓 i've been super unmotivated this past month, and it might be due to some things in my personal life or simply just because i really don't feel like writing recently. but i promise i'll be back on my grind & will start to dig into my drafts sometime. seasonal depression is really hitting hard, so i'm sorry i haven't been very active :( i love you all soso much!!! 🤍

TAGS. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @moralesluvr @justtr @greenbttrflyy @bilslovebot @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @fawninlove @meliciousmel13

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Trump’s Tiktok two-step is a lesson for future presidents

I'm about to leave for a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me on Feb 14 in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and on Feb 15 for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

Remember the Tiktok ban? I know, it was ten million years ago (in Musk years, anyway), so it may have slipped your mind, but let me remind you: Congress passed a law saying Tiktok was banned. Trump said he wouldn't enforce the law. The end.

No, really. I mean, sure, there's a bunch of bullshit about whether Trump will pick up the ban again after Tiktok's grace period ends, depending on whether they sell themselves to his creepy wax museum pal Larry Ellison. Maybe he will. Maybe Tiktok'll buy so many trumpcoins that he forgets about. Whatevs.

The important thing here is: Congress passed a (stupid) law and Trump said, "I've decided not to enforce that law" and then that was it:

https://prospect.org/justice/2025-01-31-trump-administration-test-supreme-court-tiktok/

Sure, there's some big rule of law/checks and balances/separation of powers problems here, and there are plenty of laws I'm mad about Trump not enforcing (like the law that says corporations can't bribe foreign governments, say). But this one? Sure, it's fine. The problem with Tiktok is that it invades our privacy in creepy ways, not that it is owned by a Chinese company. I don't want Zuck or Musk or (especially) Trump invading my privacy.

Congress hasn't passed a consumer privacy law since 1988, when they banned video store clerks from telling newspapers about your VHS viewing habits. That's why Tiktok is a problem. Pass that law, and if any president decides not to enforce it, I'll be mad as hell and I'll be right there in the streets next to you, in head-to-toe CV dazzle, with all my distraction rectangles in Faraday pouches, shlepping a placard bearing the Social Security Numbers of every Cabinet member in giant writing.

But the point is, the president defied Congress, which is a thing that Very Serious Grownups told us radicals Joe Biden mustn't do under any circumstances, lest the resulting constitutional crisis tear the country apart, or, at the very least, alienate so many voters that Donald Trump would become the next president.

We let Very Serious Grownups call the shots, and Donald Trump is president. Maybe we should stop listening to Very Serious Grownups?

Look, presidents ignore Congress's laws all the time. The Comstock Act (which effectively bans transporting pornography and contraception) is almost entirely ignored, and has been for generations (though Trump's creepy Heritage Foundation puppetmasters have promised to bring it back). The Robinson-Patman Act hasn't been enforced since the Reagan years, which is a damned shame, because Robinson-Patman would put Walmart, Amazon, Dollartree and Dollar General out of business (Biden started to enforce Robinson-Patman again during his last year in office):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/14/the-price-is-wright/#enforcement-priorities

I'm not trying to say that enforcing (or ignoring) the Comstock Act is the same as ignoring (or enforcing) the Robinson-Patman Act. The Comstock Act is bad, and the Robinson-Patman Act is good. I am capable of making that moral judgment, and I would like to have a president who does the same.

The fear about Trump ignoring the laws and procedures is justified, but not because of the damage he's doing to laws and procedures – it's because of the damage he's doing to the people of this country and the world.

Take the records that Trump has destroyed – vital data about public health and other subjects (thankfully, most of this was saved from destruction by the Internet Archive). The most important fact about that act of destruction is the harm that will result from it, not the failure to follow procedure.

There are plenty of times in which I am OK with people ignoring the law and destroying records. In 1943, Dutch guerrillas bombed the civil registry building in Amsterdam, to keep the records of where Jews and other disfavored minorities lived out of the hands of occupying Nazis. The firefighters on the scene kept their hoses running until any paper that hadn't been burned was reduced to slurry:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1943_Amsterdam_civil_registry_office_bombing

I'm fine with destroying records that wicked, vicious authoritarians would use to harm my neighbors.

Remember when Biden tried to cancel student debt? He could have started off by destroying the records of who owed what, so when the courts overturned his administrative action, it would have been hard or impossible to collect on the debts that were still held on federal books, or whose records the feds had (no, I'm not suggesting that Nazi death camp deportations are equivalent to unjust student debt collections, but if you agree that sometimes it's OK to illegally destroy records, then all we're left with is haggling over the specifics).

Sure, this would have been a constitutional crisis, but, as Ryan Grim says, "It is apparently unconstitutional for the president to instruct the Department of Education to restructure and forgive some student loan debt but it is ok for DOGE chair Elon Musk to just get rid of the whole department. Anywho."

https://twitter.com/ryangrim/status/1888973174819164663?t=Cd8fl4FWjY5zsOlQWZGv4g

Canceling debt isn't forgiving debt. Student borrowers have been preyed upon by colleges and lenders. People who borrowed $79.000 and paid back $190,000 can somehow still owe $236,000 do not need to be forgiven, because (unlike Trump) they haven't sinned. Rather, their debts need to be canceled (like Trump):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

Trump's shown us what a president should do when the courts get in their way: fight back. Worst case scenario is the court prevails, and a bunch of Fedsoc judges (up to and including the Supreme Court) set binding precedent that reduces the power of the president, which would be, you know, great. Best case scenario: Americans are freed from these crippling, fraudulent debts and, you know, vote for Democrats and against Trump, instead of staying home because they don't feel like the Democrats have their back.

Defying unjust court decisions isn't Trumpian – it's Rooseveltian. Roosevelt (following in Lincoln's footsteps) spent years discrediting and weakening the Supreme Court's power, using his bully pulpit to rob them of authority and build the political will to pack the court, which he was on the brink of doing when the Supreme Court surrendered:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/20/judicial-equilibria/#pack-the-court

Democrats developed an online organizing playbook, and it worked, so Republicans took it, improved on it, and won elections. Republicans have developed a devastatingly effective constitutional hardball playbook. Democrats should steal that playbook and run with it:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/18/states-rights/#cold-civil-war

I rang doorbells, made phone calls, and shelled out money for Democrats in the last cycle because I wanted them to do stuff that helps Americans, not because I wanted them to follow procedures. The fact that Trump is building offshore concentration camps and has deported our neighbors to them (to name just one of many cheap dystopian fanfics that Trump is LARPing) should be the kind of five-alarm fire that sent South Korean lawmakers scaling the barricades last month.

This is the kind of crisis where I'd expect Democrats on the Hill, at a minimum, to be refusing to give Trump and the GOP anything. Call quorum on every vote. Debate every amendment. Raise every objection. Vote against everyting. Do not confirm a single appointee. And any elected Dem that refuses to play along? Kick 'em out of the caucus. Oh, we can't afford to do that because we can't afford to lose a single lawmaker? How did that work out with Kirsten Synema and Joe Manchin? Shoulda kicked them out after the first vote, shoulda raised money for any real Dem willing to primary them. Should have shunned them in the hallways and refused to invite them to the Christmas parties. We should do that to Fetterman. Party unity got us nothing under Biden. Party unity got us Trump. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome isn't actually the formal definition of insanity, but it is nevertheless very, very stupid.

For the past four years, Very Serious Grownups in the Democratic machine kept telling us that we couldn't expect the president to do anything, or Congress to do anything, or the Senate to do anything, because the Republicans would stop them. Or the courts would stop them. Why fight when you know you're gonna lose? Because sometimes, you'll win. And even if you lose, you'll go down fighting.

Better yet, if you lose in just the right way, you'll force Trump's judges to take away powers from the President and the administrative agencies – take away the powers Trump is now wielding like a sledgehammer.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/11/you-and-what-army/#student-debt

[thewitchblue]

Could you write something about looking into Jason’s wallet and seeing a picture of his lover there?

"Found it!"

Dick said, holding the wallet victoriously. The duo went on a scavenger hunt for Jason's wallet after he lost it. Dick has the hidden talent of being about to find anything.

Jason, to his horror, watched your photo leave his wallet as Dick held it up high. He really did not want to talk about you to his brother, especially this brother. He'd even tolerate stalker Tim finding out before Dick.

"Who's this?"

Dick asked innocently as he looked at your picture. Jason knew he should have put the picture in a more secure part of his wallet, but he didn't want to risk scratching or crinkling it. Now, he will be hounded until Dick and you meet.

The picture wasn't an anniversary, date, or even a birthday party, but it was special to him. It felt intimate to him, and it felt like a slice of life he didn't know he needed.

You often tease that it's the only picture you have of him smiling, but that's not true. You have hundreds of pictures with you both, but he's a lot more picky with the pictures he keeps.

This picture is his favourite because it was taken without either of your knowledge. It was raw, not staged. Artemis took the picture after sneaking into the house. She originally wanted to use it as blackmail to extort money out of him, but you idiots were too in love to notice or really even care if you got leaked to the others, so she simply left and sent the picture to the group chat with a vomiting emoji.

He can see the unfiltered adoration on your face and the lovesick grin you gave him. It felt special to him, and it continued to feel special every time he saw it.

You both were breaking away from a kiss. Your hand cradled his face gently, and his arms seemed to be drawing you in by your waist. You were mimicking his Red Hood suit with a leather jacket, black cargo pants, and a Red Hood shirt that you modified to have a hood. He remembers calling you a copycat with a huge smile.

"That is none of your goddamn business."

Jason said as he took both his wallet and his picture back. Dick gave him a grin that made him know he was in trouble. Dick was going to find out one way or another. Jason rolled his eyes. Dick said smoothly,

"I'll hunt them down."

Jason shook his head. Good luck finding you. You live like a ghost. He doubts even he could find anything about you.

"Good luck finding them. There is nothing on file for them anywhere."

He cursed under his breath when he heard your special knocking pattern. Dick practically ran to the door, but Jason was faster. He managed to hit Dick over the head with a frying pan like a cartoon character.

"Are you okay, sugar bear?"

Not really. Jason was wrestling with his brother now, but he called out,

"I'm fine, munchkin. Taking care of business."

You knew what that meant and started to walk away. Until Dick was thrown through the wall and nearly knocked you down. You eyed the grinning man as Jason groaned. Dick always gets what he wants in the end, no matter what.

"You must be the lover."

Dick said as he stood up and brushed off the drywall on him. You went to stand by Jason with a frown. Jason swings an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him in a protective way. He really doesn't trust Dick with you.

You gave him a cheek kiss and asked,

"What's wrong, sugar bear? Is he dangerous?"

How do you not know the Wayne family? Well, you don't live in Gotham. You live in a neighbouring city, but it's not a long drive, so you always drive to see your sugar bear.

"You have no idea. I don't know what he's going to do with this knowledge."

You kissed him quickly and cuddled into his side. He always makes you feel protected and safe. You will be protected from Dick until Jason's dying breath.

"I'll keep it a secret if I know more."

Dick said confidently. He's a man of his word, and so were you.

"What questions?"

You assume the basic, "how did you meet," but instead you got,

"Why do you have a ring?"

You look at your hand with a fond smile. It wasn't anything fancy; simply a silver banded ring with a small emerald in the middle. You smiled,

"It's my promise ring. Jason has a matching one."

Jason hesitated before pulling out the necklace that held his ring. He didn't want it to break or for any villain to find out about you. He keeps it tucked away safely as a necklace and under his Red Hood gear.

Dick looked offended. How has he never noticed? He was surprised and hurt by the lack of trust. He thought Jason would at least tell him about you.

"When did you start dating?"

You smiled up at Jason. You were happily tucked under his arm and into his side. It gave you confidence.

"It will be our second anniversary in two days."

Jason answered. He's always on top of romantic gestures and dates. He went all out the last anniversary. He brought you to all your favourite spots before ending on a cliffside watching the sunset and cuddling on the blanket he insisted on bringing despite being on a motorcycle and how impractical it was to bring along. He had to fold it at least four times to fit it in his pocket so it didn't get caught in the wheels.

Dick didn't like that answer. Two whole years without ever revealing you to the family. That hurt his big brother ego. He should know everything.

It's none of their business, in Jason's opinion. His love life shouldn't matter to his family. What's the big deal? It's not like he's married.

"How did you meet?"

Your smile turned into a mischievous grin as Jason groaned. It was so awful to him. He felt horrible.

"I accidentally sneaked up on him at an old bookstore, and he judo flipped me in surprise."

You laughed, but Jason's grip on you tightened slightly. He'll never forgive himself for hurting you, even if it was an ice breaker that led to your relationship.

Dick looked at Jason with disapproving eyes and Jason felt the exact same way. He felt terrible for judo flipping you.

"No need to be sad, sugar bear. It led to us."

You took his hand that was resting on your hip and kissed it gently. You lightly squeezed it to reassure that everything is okay.

Dick smiled at the happy couple. Sure, it was unfortunate the way you met, but the love was clearly there, and he was happy that his little brother could finally find peace and love.

[pbaz7]

FLIGHT 2136: PART 4

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

word count: 8.6k

A/N: This really somehow turned into a serious lmao. God bless ✈️ anon. I’m thoroughly enjoying writing this one and I’m excited to see where I can take it next. Anything specific people wanna see?? Leave live reacts and comments if you can 🫶🏼🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

After that night their conversations become effortless and automatic. What was once occasional text over a span of a few days here and there now turned into good morning messages, updates throughout the day, and late-night conversations that stretched longer than either of them intended.

Azzi quickly learned that Paige wasn’t actually that bad of a texter–when she wanted to be. It just took a little extra effort. Sometimes, though, she still slipped up, forgetting to reply for hours. When that happened, Azzi would call her, barely waiting for Paige to pick up before saying, “Text me back, genius.”

Paige would mumble out a sheepish, “My bad,” rubbing her eyes. But then, everytime without fail, she’d add, “You look pretty today,” her voice turning soft.

Azzi would roll her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile before hanging up.

A few seconds after hanging up, Azzi’s phone would buzz with notifications from Paige—each one carefully addressing everything Azzi had mentioned. It was clear Paige was paying attention, making sure to answer everything, even if it was something small like, "I just got Dairy Queen!" or "I found that song you were talking about."

The Facetimes, once a source of mild resistance from Paige, quickly became something she didn't mind at all. She didn’t grumble about how she didn’t like them anymore. Instead, Paige would simply answer and just prop her phone up and go about whatever random task she was doing, talking with Azzi as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Whether it was shooting in the gym, organizing her room, or just lounging around, Paige would keep the conversation light, letting Azzi watch her move through the motions of her day. And even on days where Paige wasn’t the most animated during their calls, a little spaced out, Azzi could still hear the underlying affection in her voice when she did say something—the way her words were always just a little softer compared to when she talked to everyone else, a little more personal.

Azzi found herself completely captivated by how Paige’s personality started to shine through in their everyday conversations. At first, Paige had always come across as a bit reserved, quiet, especially when surrounded by others–and honestly she still was. But in their moments alone, whether it was through text or FaceTime, Paige’s true colors began to emerge. Azzi had never expected her to be this way–honestly. Paige was a little obnoxious at times, cracking jokes that made Azzi laugh out loud, even when she tried to keep a straight face. Paige could be playful and sarcastic, the type to tease Azzi for the tiniest things, but it was never mean-spirited. It was endearing.

But what Azzi adored most was how gentle and observant Paige was. It was like she had a way of noticing the smallest details, even when she didn’t say anything about them. Whether it was how Azzi would get distracted by the simplests things, or how she picked up on subtle changes in Azzi’s mood, Paige seemed to have this innate ability to read between the lines.

The way these traits blended together–Paige being confident that was borderline cocky at times, a little obnoxious, funny, yet so thoughtful and perceptive–shouldn’t have worked as well as they did, but it was perfect. It was her. And Azzi was starting to realize just how much she loved it. There was something about Paige’s complexity, the contradictions of her personality that made her unique. With every conversation, every little moment, Azzi found herself falling for Paige Bueckers.

Paige didn’t know the exact moment she fell for Azzi. Maybe it had been the night after the USC game, when she sat there in the hotel room, unraveling a part of herself she had never shared with anyone before. When she told Azzi about the accident—some of the details, the conflict she felt all the time, the way she had spent so long resenting the world for what happened but thanking God that it wasn’t worse. And instead of offering empty words or hollow reassurances, Azzi just was—solid, there asking Paige what she needed instead of offering up what she thought she needed to hear. Somehow, within seconds of laying it all out, Azzi had brought her peace. A kind of peace Paige hadn’t even known she was searching for with a simple story about cutting her little brother's hair.

Or maybe it was in the hallway that same night. When she admitted she’d miss Azzi, the words feeling heavier than they should’ve. And Azzi, instead of overcomplicating it, just pulled her in, giving her something to hold onto, a quiet reassurance.

But then sometimes Paige thinks it was the next morning. When Paige, still groggy, had opened her door to find Azzi standing there in full UConn gear, clearly about to leave the hotel. Paige had barely mumbled out a good morning before Azzi stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, like it was the most natural thing in the world and handed Paige a coffee, as if she knew that the blonde didn’t sleep much that night.

So yeah, Paige didn’t know the exact moment she fell for Azzi Fudd. But she knew that she had and she knew it happened when she was in California. She knew that she liked how Azzi made her feel. How Azzi made the world seem a little brighter. Like sunshine and rainbows as Paige would often sarcastically say when Azzi told her to cheer up.

Right now Azzi was lying in her bed, her phone propped up against her pillow as she absentmindedly toyed with the drawstring of her hoodie. Paige, on the other hand, was sitting at her desk, hunched over doing—well, Azzi wasn’t sure what exactly.

Azzi narrowed her eyes at the screen. "So, how was your LSU visit?"

Paige snorted, not even looking up. "It was alright."

Azzi raised a brow. "Alright? So… no?"

Paige finally glanced at her phone, looking at Azzi before smiling a little saying, "Not my vibe, is all."

Azzi smirked, shifting onto her side. "I feel like you say that about every team except UConn."

Paige leaned back in her chair, smirking right back. "Maybe I said it about UConn too. I just wouldn’t tell you."

Azzi’s jaw dropped at this. "That’s rude."

Paige just shrugged, clearly unbothered as she went back to whatever she was doing at her desk.

Azzi squinted at her. "What are you doing over there?"

Paige huffed as she leaned back in her chair again, throwing her pencil down on the desk. "I’m trying to do a sudoku."

Azzi snorted. "Why?"

Paige shrugged again.

Azzi’s lips curled into an amused grin as she propped herself up on one elbow. "Since when do you do sudoku?"

Paige groaned, dragging a hand down her face before resting her chin in her palm. "Since today. And probably not after today."

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "Let me see."

Paige picked up her phone and angled it toward her desk. The screen showed a sudoku puzzle that looked… well, disastrous. Numbers were scratched out at the bottom, some squares had been filled in and erased multiple times, and at least one spot had what looked like a tiny doodle in the corner.

Azzi covered her mouth to muffle her laugh. "Oh my God."

Paige rolled her eyes but smirked. "Okay, mathlete. Relax."

Azzi grinned. "Do you even know the rules?"

"Yes, I know the rules," Paige said. "I just don’t know why there are so many numbers."

Azzi blinked. "Paige… that’s literally the point of sudoku."

Paige let out a deep sigh, tilting her head back. "See? This is why I don’t try new things. I need to just stick to dribbling a basketball."

Azzi hummed. "What’s got you trying new things, then?"

Paige shrugged as she pushed back from her desk and stood, stretching her arms above her head. Azzi watched as the hem of Paige’s shirt lifted, revealing parts of her toned stomach. She hadn’t meant to stare, but—okay, maybe she had a little.

Paige smirked, catching the way Azzi’s gaze lingered. She picked up her phone, bringing it closer to her face. "You’re a pervert."

Azzi scoffed. "I literally didn’t even do anything." But there was a slight smile on her lips, giving her away.

Paige dropped back onto her bed, lying on her side with one arm propped under her head. "You didn’t have to," she mumbled, eyes locked onto Azzi’s through the screen.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, shifting onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. "Oh? So now I’m just guilty by association?"

Paige’s smile deepened. "More so guilty by intention but sure."

Azzi let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. "You’re actually the worst sometimes."

Paige tilted her head. "Am I really?"

Azzi caught the shift in tone, the playfulness turning into something a little more intentional. She pressed her lips together, debating for a second before deciding—fuck it.

"Mhm," Azzi hummed, trailing a finger along the edge of her phone as she watched Paige closely. "But I think you like it that way."

Paige licked her lips, her gaze flickering over Azzi’s face. "Maybe."

Azzi bit her lip, her voice turning softer. "You’re a little smug for someone who just got roasted over sudoku."

Paige grinned. "Mmm course I am, look at how you’re lookin at me."

Azzi exhaled a short laugh. "You’re so annoying."

Paige’s smirk didn’t waver as she said, “No I’m not."

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the way her cheeks warmed. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"I could give you a few ideas."

Azzi blinked, her breath catching just slightly. Paige was really pushing it now.

She swallowed, tilting her head. "Oh yeah?"

Paige nodded, her fingers idly playing with the ring she always wore on her finger. "Mhm. But I think you already know."

Azzi let out a slow breath as she shifted. "You sure you can handle me?"

Paige huffed out a chuckle as she licked her lips. "I think I already showed you I can handle you just fine, Azzi."

Azzi exhaled sharply, her stomach flipping at how Paige was looking at her through the screen—like she knew exactly what she was doing, exactly how she was making her feel.

Azzi bit her lip, her voice softer now. "I miss you."

Paige’s expression softened just slightly, but then, before Azzi could get too caught up in the moment, Paige smirked again. "You’re just horny."

Azzi’s eyes widened, her mouth parting in shock. "Paige!"

Paige just chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. "What? Am I wrong?"

Azzi narrowed her eyes, though the warmth creeping up her neck betrayed her. "You’re disgusting."

Paige propped herself up on her elbow, tilting her head as she studied Azzi through the screen. "I’m just saying… you’re looking at me like you want something."

Azzi huffed, shifting onto her back as she threw an arm over her face for a second before peeking at Paige again. "And what if I do?"

"Then I guess I’d have to do something about it next time I see you."

God, Azzi wished she hadn’t asked that question because now she was warm and uncomfortable, and the worst part was—she knew Paige knew. The way she was chuckling on the other side of the screen, made Azzi squirm even more.

Azzi groaned. "Paige, please."

Paige hummed, all teasing. "Hm?"

Azzi hesitated, debating whether she was really about to ask for help with her… situation, but before she could get the words out, there was a knock on Paige’s door.

Paige’s head moved toward it, her smirk fading slightly. "Yeah?"

The door creaked open, and Drew peeked inside. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

Paige’s expression shifted instantly—her playfulness replaced with something softer, more serious. She sat up, nodding without hesitation. "Yeah, course." She scooted over on her bed, making space for him near the wall.

Reaching for her phone, she looked down at the screen, her gaze apologetic. "I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’ll text you in a sec."

Azzi shook her head, completely understanding. "Don’t apologize."

Paige gave her a small, grateful smile before they both hung up, leaving Azzi lying there, staring at the ceiling—still warm, still uncomfortable, and now, very much alone with the feelings.

Or at least she thought she was alone—until her phone buzzed a few times.

Azzi grabbed it from beside her, her brows raising slightly when she saw Paige’s name on the screen. She unlocked her phone, and the second she saw what Paige had sent, she felt her stomach tighten.

The pictures weren’t anything too overly suggestive, but they were enough.

Some were mirror selfies—Paige’s sweats low on her hips, her stomach on display, a sports bra the only thing covering her top half. Others were clearly taken after being in the gym, her skin still slightly flushed, her hair damp, the definition in her arms pronounced.

Azzi chuckled when she got to the last one—a hand pic.

All the pictures were followed by a message. "Get yourself right."

Another buzz. "I'm sorry I couldn't help. I got you next time."

Azzi exhaled sharply, her entire body warm, her face buried in her pillow as she groaned.

Somehow, even when she wasn’t physically there, Paige still had her in a chokehold.

Still, Azzi followed directions. She sighed, shifting against her sheets, wishing—aching—that it was Paige’s hand instead of her own.

…

Back in Minnesota Paige lay still beside Drew, both of them staring up at the ceiling, their arms thrown behind their heads in near identical positions as they laid in silence for a few minutes. It was almost uncanny how much they looked alike when you really looked at them, their features reflecting off one another from the dim glow of Paige’s bedside lamp. Drew had gotten older, taller, but in moments like these, Paige was reminded that he was still her little brother—the same kid who used to follow her around with wide eyes, hanging onto every word she said.

The silence stretched between them, Paige figuring Drew was just taking a while to fall asleep. Then, Drew said something.

“That girl you’re always talking to,” he started, his voice quiet but still confident, like Paige had taught him.

Paige turned her head slightly, already knowing where this was going. “Her name’s Azzi,” she corrected, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Drew hummed in acknowledgment. “Is Azzi the reason you’re leaving?”

Paige blinked, caught off guard for a split second before she turned her head to look at him. She studied him for a moment, the way his brows furrowed slightly, waiting for her answer. With a sigh she said, “You know how when you were younger and we always talked about you coming to my games when I got to the league?” she asked.

Drew simply nodded.

Paige exhaled, glancing back up at the ceiling. “That can’t happen if I stay where I’m at now.”

Drew was silent for a moment before he mumbled, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

Paige let out a quiet chuckle. “You and Dad are moving to the DMV. I’ll be one call away, I swear.”

Drew turned his head, watching her carefully before he finally asked, “So you’re going to UConn?”

A slow smile spread across Paige’s face as she nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna go to UConn.”

Drew studied her for another moment, then asked, “Have you told them yet?”

Paige sighed, shaking her head. “No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

Paige turned her head to look at him again, a different kind of warmth settling in her chest. She smirked slightly before answering. “I gotta tell Azzi first.”

Drew’s lips twitched into a grin as he turned onto his side, finally facing the wall to go to sleep. But not before adding, “You like her, huh?”

Paige rolled her eyes, but the smirk never left her lips. “Man, shut up. You’re supposed to be in here going to bed.”

Drew just laughed as he pulled the cover over his head to go to sleep.

Paige grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her fingers lingering over it for a moment before unlocking the screen. She chuckled softly when she saw a message from Azzi sent just three minutes ago. The message was simple, just a “Thank you.” Paige huffed out a quiet laugh when she saw the period.

She quickly typed out a response, her fingers moving without hesitation: Yup. After a brief pause, she added one more message, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she typed: Goodnight beautiful.

She read it over once more, her heart skipping just a little at the words before she locked her phone and set it back on the table. Paige turned off the light and settled into bed, pulling the covers up over her.

She stayed still for a while, her hands tucked behind her head, staring out the window that was across from her bed. The sudden quietness of the room seemed to amplify the thoughts racing through her mind, each one more tangled than the last.

She couldn't help but think of Drew, her little brother, and the way he'd come crawling into her bed tonight, like he’d done so many times before–seeking comfort from the chaos of his own thoughts. Her heart ached just thinking about it. She’d been around for every significant moment of his life, his constant lifeline, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving him behind, even if it was for the right reasons.

But then, as if the universe was constantly reminding her of the duality of her life, another thought would emerge: the weight of her future, the pressure to fulfill a dream she’d been chasing since she could walk. She wanted to go back to the notoriety she used to have, not because of the attention it gave her, but because of what came with it—the ability to give her family the life they deserved, to give back. To provide for Drew, her dad, her mom.

Paige sighed softly, her body sinking deeper into the mattress, as she tried to will her mind to quiet for just a moment so she could fall asleep. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but the thoughts kept coming. She knew it would take time, a lot of effort, and maybe even more sacrifice to make everything fall into place. But for tonight, she just wanted a break from the weight of it all. Just a few minutes of peace. She closed her eyes, exhaling a long breath as she tried to empty her mind, willing herself to relax.

It wasn’t long before another thought slipped into her head—Azzi. This time, instead of adding weight, like everything else, it brought a sense of comfort. Azzi wasn’t like anyone else in Paige’s life. Thinking about Azzi didn’t tighten her chest or add more confusion to her already overwhelming thoughts. When her mind drifted to Azzi, everything else seemed to fade into the background. Because she knew Azzi didn’t expect anything from her. Azzi wasn’t asking Paige to be anyone but herself—she didn’t have any preconceived notions about who Paige used to be. The girl on the other end of those late-night Facetimes only knew Paige from what she’d shared. The thoughts she had were based on the present, not some past version of Paige.

That was the thing that should've terrified Paige. She wasn’t used to feeling so... seen, without the weight of what others thought she should be or the pressure of always having to do the right thing. Azzi didn’t ask for any of that. The simplicity of their connection, how natural it felt, should have sent her running in the opposite direction, a voice in the back of her mind telling her it was too easy, too comfortable for the kind of world they lived in. They hadn’t even had a serious conversation about what they were or what they had going on—and yet, Paige didn’t worry about it.

She should’ve been terrified of how she felt about Azzi already–it had only been a few months. But for some reason, anytime she thought about her, the only thing Paige felt was calmness. She rarely thought about it if she was being honest. It just felt right. Everything about Azzi felt... right. Like the pieces of her life, of their connection, were meant to fall into place in the way they had.

As Paige lay there, still, her mind slowing down for the first time that night she couldn’t help but smile a little. The thought of being around Azzi all the time, physically being with her instead of having to hear her voice through a phone. Being able to physically touch her. It all seemed too good to be true, but Paige didn’t worry about that—she thought just maybe that the universe was finally repaying her.

Third Person POV - March 2024

After taking a shower Paige sat on the edge of her hotel bed, the soft glow of her phone illuminating her face as she idly scrolled, waiting. The room itself was silent, but Paige’s mind was buzzing with anticipation. She knew it was only a matter of time before Azzi texted her or called. It always happened that way after games.

She leaned back against the pillows, letting out a slow breath as she glanced at the time. UConn had won their Sweet Sixteen game against Duke earlier that night, and unknowingly to Azzi, Paige had been there to witness it. She had come down with her dad and Drew, who hadn’t seen UConn play in person yet. The three of them had seats in the stands, and while it felt strange watching from far, Paige loved the experience.

Her dad and Drew were sharing a room down the hall, while she had her own. Now, alone in her room, Paige found herself sitting, waiting—because she knew Azzi would reach out. Azzi never let too much time pass without talking to her.

Right on cue, her phone buzzed. “You up?”

Paige chuckled to herself, shaking her head before typing out a response.

Paige 💗You a 16-year-old boy now?

Azzi’s reply came almost immediately.

Azzi <3 Lol I’ll take that as a yes

Paige smirked, stretching one of her arms over her head before texting back.

Paige 💗I was waiting on you

Azzi <3 Oh yeah?

Paige💗Yeah.

The typing bubbles appeared for a moment before disappearing, and then suddenly, Paige’s screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call. Her smirk deepened as she swiped to answer, settling back against the pillows.

When the call connected, all Paige could see was the bathroom ceiling, but she could hear Azzi’s voice.

"Why are you always flirting with me?"

Paige laughed. "Cause you like it."

"No, I don’t," Azzi shot back, but there was no real conviction behind her words—it was clearly a lie.

Paige raised an eyebrow, playing along. "No?"

"No," Azzi repeated, but Paige could hear the slight waver in her voice.

Paige chuckled. "Why not?"

There was a pause before Azzi mumbled, "Because all it does is make me sexually frustrated."

Paige smirked at that, biting her lip before saying, "Lemme fix that for you, then."

"Paige, please," Azzi groaned, still off-screen.

Paige chuckled. "Please what?"

"I really can’t handle that today," Azzi muttered. "I won’t be alone for the next week, and I already feel like I’m about to explode."

Paige hummed, amused at Azzi’s frustration. "That’s not a problem."

She heard Azzi groan again, making her chuckle. "Azzi, come to the camera."

There was a beat of silence, then a soft shuffle. A few seconds later, Azzi finally appeared with a towel wrapped around her, clearly fresh out of the shower.

"Where are you?" she asked, scanning Paige’s unfamiliar background.

Paige tilted her head slightly. "My hotel room."

Azzi's expression was filled with confusion. "What? You’re done with visits."

Paige grinned. "That’s what I been tryna tell you." Then, more sincerely, she added, "You played great today, by the way."

Azzi smiled at the compliment before quickly piecing together what Paige was saying. "Wait—you’re here? In Portland?"

Paige simply nodded, watching as realization dawned on Azzi’s face. A grin spread as soon as the realization sank in.

"What room are you in?" she asked, her voice carrying an excitement that wasn’t there before.

"617," Paige answered smoothly.

Azzi didn’t hesitate. "I’ll be down there soon."

Paige hummed in response as Azzi hung up the phone.

A few minutes later a sharp knock at the door shocked Paige a little, but she didn’t hesitate when she got up to answer it. She swung it open without even checking the peephole, already knowing exactly who was on the other side.

Before she could fully take in Azzi’s appearance—her damp hair, the cropped shirt she must’ve thrown on in a hurry—Azzi rushed forward, crashing their lips together.

The kiss from Azzi is urgent and unrestrained. Paige stumbles back a little, her hands instinctively gripping Azzi’s waist as she pulls her in, making sure neither of them lose their balance. The door swings shut behind them with a loud thud, the only sound in the room now is their heavy breaths as they press closer to one another.

Azzi’s hands find Paige’s jaw, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, while Paige steadies them both, her fingers slipping beneath the loose cropped shirt Azzi has on. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing—just unspoken longing spilling over now that they’re finally in the same place again.

After what feels like an eternity of them standing there, Azzi pulls back just enough to whisper against Paige’s lips, “You really didn’t think to tell me you were here?”

Paige smirks, her hands still on Azzi’s waist. “Figured a surprise was more fun.”

Azzi huffs out a small laugh before tugging Paige back in, shaking her head as she mumbles, “You’re ridiculous.” But she doesn’t seem to think so when Paige’s tongue slides in her mouth.

They move together, stumbling but somehow in sync, until they reach the foot of the bed. Despite how frantic it seems, Paige is careful—guiding them, making sure Azzi doesn’t trip over anything in her rush. They stay standing at the foot of the bed for a moment, lost in one another, lips moving, hands exploring like they’re memorizing the feeling of each other.

Then Azzi pulls back just enough, her fingers slipping under the hem of Paige’s shirt. Paige lifts her arms, letting Azzi tug it over her head. The second it’s gone, Azzi discards her own shirt and doesn’t waste another moment before pulling her back in, her lips crashing into Paige’s.

Paige chuckles against her mouth, breaking the kiss just enough to murmur, “Baby, slow down—” her hands find Azzi’s waist, thumbs smoothing over her skin as she whispers, “Lemme see you.”

Azzi, still a little dazed, blinks at Paige and murmurs, “What did you just call me?”

Paige chuckles, shaking her head as she tries to play it off. “Nothing,” she says casually. “I said, lemme see you.”

Azzi doesn’t press—at least, not yet. Instead, she lowers herself onto the bed, looking up at Paige through her eyelashes, the corners of her lips tugging up just slightly.

Paige exhales, rolling her eyes playfully. “Don’t look at me like that.” She steps closer, brushing her thumb along Azzi’s chin, her touch impossibly gentle despite the tension crackling between them.

Azzi tilts her head, feigning innocence. “Like what?”

Paige groans, her fingers curling under Azzi’s chin as she mutters, “Like that.”

Azzi just blinks up at her, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Paige exhales sharply, shaking her head as she steps back. “You know what you’re doing,” she mutters, turning away.

Azzi simply shrugs. “Maybe.”

She watches as Paige leans against the desk across from the bed. Azzi takes her in, letting her gaze roam—Paige’s hair pulled back in a loose bun, her diamond earrings catching the light, the black shorts sitting on her hips, paired with a black Nike sports bra. And then there’s her cross necklace, resting just above her chest.

Azzi smirks. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Paige lifts an eyebrow, silently challenging the question. Like what?

Azzi shakes her head, her smile deepening. “Come here.”

Paige pushes off the desk and walks over, looking at Azzi the entire time. The moment she’s close enough, Azzi reaches for her necklace, curling her fingers around it as she gives a gentle tug, pulling Paige down toward her on the bed.

Paige hovers over Azzi, smiling down at her, amusement flickering in her eyes. Azzi meets her gaze, fingers still curled around the necklace. She gives it another tug, just enough to bring Paige down to her level, and their lips meet again—this one is slower, more intimate, as if they’re finally allowing themselves to just exist in this moment.

There’s no urgency, no frantic need to make up for lost time.

Paige starts to pull away, but Azzi’s fingers tighten around the chain, keeping her close. Their lips reconnect, and Paige can’t help but smile into it, letting out a soft chuckle at Azzi’s persistence. Azzi hums against her mouth, clearly pleased with herself, and Paige deepens the kiss for just a second longer before murmuring against her lips, “So this is how it is, huh?”

Azzi hums in response, deepening the kiss, and Paige lets her, letting herself sink into the warmth of it as Azzi’s fingers stay wrapped around her necklace, keeping her close, as if she’s afraid Paige will disappear if she lets go.

After a while, both of their lips are raw when Paige pulls back just enough to murmur, “I gotta tell you something.”

Azzi doesn’t release her immediately, stealing a few more kisses before finally loosening her grip on the chain. Paige smirks at the reluctance before pulling back slightly, still hovering over Azzi.

Azzi tilts her head, her fingers fully undoing Paige’s bun that she messed up. “What?”

Paige exhales softly, then says it as casually as if she’s commenting on the weather. “I’m coming to UConn.”

Azzi blinks up at her, the words not quite registering at first. “What?”

Paige chuckles, brushing a loose curl from Azzi’s face. “I’m transferring to UConn.”

The grin that spreads across Azzi’s face is instant and huge, her excitement practically radiating off of her. Without thinking, she wraps her arms around Paige and pulls her into a hug, the force of it making Paige collapse onto her with a laugh.

Azzi holds on tight, her face buried in Paige’s shoulder, her voice muffled as she says, “Are you serious?”

Paige just laughs again, wrapping her arms around Azzi in return. "Yeah. I'm serious."

Azzi pulls back slightly, looking at Paige with surprise. "When did you tell Geno?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.

Paige shrugs. "I haven't yet. I wanted to tell you first."

Azzi’s expression softens, a wide grin spreading across her face. "You wanted to tell me first?"

Paige nods, her gaze softening as she meets Azzi’s eyes. "Yeah."

Azzi smirks, leaning up slightly. "Aww, that’s sweet."

Paige rolls her eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "Alright, shut up," she mumbles, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

Azzi chuckles, clearly enjoying the moment. "I’m just saying. It’s cute."

Paige exhales a quiet laugh, rolling her eyes as she mutters, "Whatever," before leaning back down to kiss Azzi.

This time, the kiss is slower, deeper—Paige’s weight pressing into Azzi completely as their lips move in sync. Azzi feels the warmth of Paige’s body against hers, the way Paige’s knee slides in between her legs. She lets herself sink into it, her hands finding their way to Paige’s sides, fingers curling against her skin as she pulls her closer.

The moment is so consuming that it takes a second before Azzi realizes where her hands are—right over the scar. The very place Paige had once pulled her away from, tensing at her touch.

Azzi stills, her breath hitching as she pulls back slightly, ready to apologize, but before she can say a word, she notices that Paige hasn’t moved away.

She’s still there, still hovering over her, her blue eyes looking a little shocked but still soft as they search Azzi’s face. There’s a little hesitation in her eyes but no discomfort—then slowly just a quiet acceptance.

Azzi barely has time to process it before Paige leans back down, capturing her lips in another kiss, deeper this time. It’s slow and almost calculated, as if Paige is telling her without words that it’s okay. That she wants this. That she wants her. At this, Azzi flips them over, her movements instinctual, and suddenly, she’s the one hovering over Paige. Paige lets out a quiet breath of surprise, her blue eyes flickering with something unreadable—something Azzi has come to know all too well.

Azzi doesn’t give her time to think too much. She dips down, trailing her lips along the sharp curve of Paige’s jaw, then lower, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Paige licks her lips at the feeling, willing her body to relax beneath Azzi’s as she sighs slightly, her fingers brushing along Azzi’s back.

Azzi smiles against Paige’s chest, taking her time, savoring every second of this—of Paige letting her in, letting her touch her like this. She feels Paige shift slightly beneath her again, feels Paige pulling her closer, and the small action makes something warm bloom in Azzi’s chest.

So she keeps going, kissing down the column of Paige’s throat, feeling her pulse racing beneath her lips, feeling the way Paige’s breath hitches every time she lingers just a second too long.

Paige couldn’t help but sigh at how soft Azzi’s lips felt against her throat, how warm and steady she felt hovering over her. It was effortless—the way Azzi moved, the way she kissed her, like she had all the time in the world. She was making sure to kiss every part of Paige’s neck, every inch of exposed skin, trailing lower with no rush, no hesitation.

Both of them had a soft appreciation for this moment. For Azzi, it was about memorizing Paige like this—unworried by the outside world, just them, just this. And for Paige, it was about allowing herself to let go, even if just for a little while.

She knew, from all their late-night FaceTime calls, that Azzi understood her in a way not many people did. Azzi knew that Paige didn’t like giving up control—that it wasn’t in her nature, that her brain basically screamed at her when she wasn’t in control of something. She knew that Paige always had to be the one holding the reins, the one dictating the pace, the one leading.

But right now, Paige wasn’t doing that.

Right now, she was letting Azzi take the lead. She was willing herself to trust the girl hovering above her. And the way Azzi handled her, with such care and patience, made it feel easier than she thought it would be.

Azzi watches Paige closely as she trails lower, her lips brushing over her skin, her hands smoothing over Paige’s sides. When she glances up, all she sees is Paige with her eyes closed, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. She smiles at the sight, at the trust Paige is giving her, and then she dips back down, kissing every inch of her stomach with the same patience she had when she started.

But when she reaches the scar, she hesitates. Because it’s a tricky thing—she can’t ignore this part of Paige, wouldn’t want to, but she also knows it’s sensitive, both physically and emotionally.

So, she starts slowly. A soft kiss. She feels Paige’s stomach tense slightly beneath her, the smallest shift, but she doesn’t tell her to stop.

So she places another kiss. Then another. Azzi takes her time, shifting her lips along every part of the scar, not missing an inch. She even moves to Paige’s side, making sure to trail her kisses as far as she can.

When she finally looks up, Paige’s eyes are open now, watching Azzi’s every move.

Then, Paige’s hand moves.

Azzi stills when she feels the gentle brush of Paige’s thumb against her cheek. She leans into it instinctively, closing her eyes for a brief second before looking back at her.

Paige is watching her, something unreadable in her expression, but there’s absolutely no hesitation in the way she touches her.

Azzi turns her head slightly, pressing a kiss to Paige’s palm before murmuring, “You okay?”

Paige nods. “Yeah.”

Azzi’s smile is soft as she moves back up, her lips finding Paige’s. As their mouths move together, her hand drifts lower, sliding easily into Paige’s shorts where she runs her fingers against Paige. The touch is barely there, but it pulls a reaction from Paige immediately—a low, involuntary sound escaping her lips.

Azzi chuckles, pulling back just enough to murmur, “You good?”

Paige nods, her breath a little uneven. “Mhm,” she manages, but then Azzi is sliding into Paige, settling completely before she’s pulling them out again agonizingly slow. Paige’s eyelids flutter as she exhales shakily, her voice coming out softer now, more like a whisper. “That feels good…”

Azzi smiles against her lips, happy with the effect she’s having on her. So she keeps the slow pace going, feeling the way Paige subtly arches into each time she curls her fingers. After some time, when she feels Paige getting a little more urgent in her movements, Azzi pulls away from the kiss. Creating just enough space between them to take in Paige’s face fully. To see her reactions.

Paige opens her eyes to look up at her, blue eyes heavy, but locked onto Azzi’s with an intensity that makes Azzi’s breath catch. There’s something about the way she’s looking at her—like she’s completely lost in her.

Azzi’s voice is quiet as she whispers. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Paige swallows hard at that, something deep in her chest tightening, like she might explode under the weight of those words. Her fingers flex against Azzi’s back as she struggles to find a response, but the truth is, she doesn’t need to say anything—Azzi already knows.

The way Azzi is looking at her, like she’s the only thing that matters in the world—makes her heart pound faster. Feeling Azzi move in and out of her almost perfectly, sends a warmth spreading through Paige’s entire body. She feels overwhelmed, not just by the sensation but by the way Azzi is completely focused on her, on every reaction she’s having.

Paige swallows, her throat suddenly dry. “Azzi…” she whispers out, not even sure what she wants to say.

Azzi just smiles, dipping her head down to brush her lips against Paige’s again. “I mean it,” she whispers against her mouth. “You’re so beautiful Paige.”

Paige exhales shakily, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s back, like she needs to hold onto something solid to keep herself from falling apart completely. “…Shut up,” she finally mumbles, but there’s no real bite to it.

Azzi raises her eyebrows, surprised by this response. But then she’s smiling because Paige’s blue eyes are completely hazy, her chest is rising and falling quicker now, her body reacting in ways she’s clearly struggling to control as she throws her head back against the pillow.

“Fuck— I’m sorry, I just—” Paige starts, but she can’t finish, her voice becoming unsteady. Azzi just chuckles, continuing her pace but adding a little pressure as she slides her knee in between Paige’s legs.

“It’s okay,” Azzi reassures her, keeping her voice gentle. “I know.”

But Paige’s breathing only stutters more, her body tense beneath Azzi. Azzi lowers her head near Paige’s ear. “Relax, baby.”

Paige takes a sharp inhale at hearing Azzi whisper in her ear, her fingers gripping Azzi’s arm tightly. Still, she listens—taking a deep unsteady breath, forcing herself to settle.

Azzi kisses the corner of her jaw, feeling the tension in Paige’s body start to unravel beneath her. “That’s it,” she whispers, dragging her lips along Paige’s skin as she speeds up her movements.

Paige swallows hard. “Azzi I—”

“Sshhh,” Azzi soothes, as she adjusts so she has more room to keep her pace. “I know.”

And then Paige is tensing under her all over again.

Paige’s words come out choked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I can…I can’t…it’s—”

Azzi lifts her head, “Look at me,” she murmurs.

Paige forces her eyes open, her eyelids are low and her eyes are unfocused as they lock onto Azzi’s. Once their eyes lock Azzi slows her pace again, curling her fingers perfectly every time she moves. Making sure Paige feels her.

“Just relax for me,” Azzi whispers.

Paige swallows, nodding once, never breaking eye contact as she takes another deep breath. As soon as she does that it hits—her body trembling, breath hitching, fingers tightening against Azzi’s back.

Azzi leans down, immediately taking Paige’s lips in her own, swallowing every shaky breath, every quiet whimper, every moan, until Paige finally starts to settle beneath her.

Before Azzi even knows what’s happening, Paige is flipping them over. When she does this, she’s a lot more feverish than Azzi was, her lips trailing down Azzi’s jaw, sucking and nipping along the way, like she can’t get enough of her.

Azzi, already worked up just from watching Paige, takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Fuck Paige—”

Paige hums against her skin, the sound vibrating through Azzi’s body.

Azzi exhales shakily. “I really can’t wait. It’s been too long.”

Paige lifts her head, her pupils dilated, she nods once before leaning back down, sealing her lips over Azzi’s again.

Paige easily slides her hand into Azzi’s pajama shorts and groans when there’s no other barrier and she immediately feels how ready Azzi is for her. Paige whispers out, “Fuck baby, why you didn’t tell me.” Before Azzi can respond Paige is easily sliding her fingers into Azzi.

As soon as Paige does this, Azzi’s breath hitches, and she mumbles, “Oh god.” Paige smirks, feeling the heat radiating from Azzi’s body as she easily takes her in.

Azzi, already feeling the tug in her stomach, grabs Paige’s waist and pulls her closer, the weight of Paige on top of her having Azzi closing her eyes in relief. She runs her hands up and down Paige’s back, her breath growing shallow. “I miss you so much,” Azzi murmurs.

Paige leans down to kiss her. “I miss you, too pretty girl,” she replies softly.

Azzi exhales a quiet, needy sound at the nickname, she wraps her arms tightly around Paige’s shoulders and hooks her legs around Paige’s waist, using the leverage to pull her closer. A low groan escapes her lips as Paige presses deeper into her, her fingers tangling into Paige’s hair seeking any piece of her she can get.

A few moments later, Azzi’s phone rings from the nightstand, popping the bubble they created. The first time, Azzi ignores it, her attention completely on the way Paige is making her feel, but then it rings again. Again, she ignores it, letting Paige continue, her hands never leaving Paige’s head, but when it rings a third time, Azzi can’t ignore it anymore.

With a deep sigh, she reaches over to grab the phone, still breathing unevenly from the way Paige feels inside of her. She glances at the screen and sees Caroline’s name flashing.

Azzi sighs again, this time louder, her chest tightening. Paige, noticing the change, starts to shift off of her, but Azzi grabs her, shaking her head, “No… don’t,” she says softly, pushing Paige’s head into her neck. Paige is a little surprised at this but she complies with what Azzi wants as she starts placing open mouth kisses to Azzi’s neck, curling her fingers as she does it.

Reluctantly, Azzi answers the phone, her voice completely breathy as she says, “Yes, Caroline?”

Caroline’s voice comes through the phone. “You have 15 minutes.” And before Azzi can respond, Caroline hangs up, already knowing exactly what Azzi is doing.

Azzi throws her phone somewhere and immediately pulls Paige back into a kiss, this time more urgent. Both of them are aware of the time slipping away, and the need to be close is almost overwhelming.

Paige, knowing what she needs to do to speed the process up for Azzi, adjusts so she can use her thumb adding slow soft circles to the mix as she continues to curl her fingers.

It doesn’t take long for Azzi’s body to shake under Paige’s touch, her breath coming in shallow bursts as her hands tighten around Paige. She tries to speak, but the words don’t come out clearly, her chest heaving with every shaky exhale.

“P-Paige…Yes—” she stammers, struggling to find her voice as Paige’s continues to work in and out of her, drawing another tremor from her. “Fuck—” Her hands find Paige’s back, trying to pull her impossibly closer, her fingers digging into her skin as she gasps. “I… want you... so much...”

Azzi’s words slip into a breathless murmur, almost incoherent. Paige slows her rhythm as she helps Azzi ride out the sensation, her smile growing as she watches her.

“You have me,” Paige whispers, pressing her forehead to Azzi’s as they both savor the moment.

They stay just like that for a second, both of them breathing deeply, still feeling the weight of each other. There’s a quiet, unspoken understanding between them as they both lay there, hearts still racing in sync.

Paige breaks the silence with a soft murmur, “You gotta go.”

Azzi exhales slowly, her body still warm beneath Paige’s, but the words don’t seem to make her move just yet. She pulls Paige closer instead, pressing a kiss to her lips before she mumbles, “I know.”

Even as she says it, Azzi’s hands tangle in Paige’s hair, and the kiss turns more urgent. The heat between them grows again, their lips moving together perfectly, tasting each other in a way that seems to say they’re not ready to let go, not yet.

But eventually, Azzi pulls away, her chest rising and falling. She gives Paige one last lingering look before she’s tapping her to stand up. Once Paige rolls off of her, Azzi stands, stretching and crossing the room to grab Paige’s discarded shirt from the floor, easily slipping it over her head.

Paige smirks, her eyes following Azzi’s every movement, and as she stands up from the bed she says. “Look at you, putting on my shirt. Ms. ‘Don’t get used to it.’”

Azzi rolls her eyes, as she slips her Uggs back on. Paige mirrors the move, grabbing her phone and keycard, ready to walk Azzi upstairs.

Azzi’s voice breaks the quiet. “You’re not going to put on a shirt?”

Paige laughs, glancing down at herself. “You kinda sorta stole mine.”

Azzi laughs softly, nodding. “Fair enough.” She watches as Paige glances at herself in the mirror, her jaw tightening just slightly before she looks toward Azzi.

“I should be fine. It’s pretty late.”

Azzi nods, grabbing her hand and the two of them step out of the room, walking down the hall toward the elevator. The walk feels too short and they reach Azzi’s door before they know it.

Azzi reaches out first, pulling Paige toward her in one more kiss. It's slow, a little messy—her lips pressing against Paige's with a delicate urgency. Azzi’s arms slide over Paige’s shoulders, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of Paige’s neck and Paige responds, her hands wrapping around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in closer.

But then the door to Azzi’s room swings open, and Caroline peeks her head out. She doesn’t seem surprised by what she sees, “You deadass have like a minute.”

Like most people, because humans truly can’t help it, her eyes flicker down to Paige’s exposed torso, and Paige immediately notices the look.

The moment shifts, the lightness of Paige’s energy almost vanishing as she steps back from Azzi. Her jaw tightens, her fingers subconsciously starting to fiddle with the ring on her finger. She clears her throat, putting a little more distance between them. “I’ll text you, okay?” she says, her voice quieter now, and Azzi nods, understanding the sudden shift.

Paige takes one last look at Azzi, giving her a small smile then turns to walk away.

As Azzi and Caroline walk into the suite. Caroline watches as Azzi shuts the door and as soon as Azzi starts walking towards her bed, Caroline can’t help herself. “What was that?” she asks, her voice light with curiosity.

Azzi glances at her but doesn’t pause in her movement. “That was a kiss,” she answers simply.

Caroline raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with that response. She shifts slightly on the couch. “Obviously. But I’m not talking about that.”

Azzi stops in her tracks, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed. She takes a breath, turns, and faces Caroline. “Then what was what?”

Caroline is persistent, but her tone is soft and inquisitive, rather than pushy. “She had this huge scar on her side. I saw it when you were...you know. What’s going on with that?” Caroline’s eyes flicker with concern, showing she’s not trying to pry in a harsh way.

“It’s nothing,” Azzi says simply, keeping her voice neutral.

Caroline frowns, not convinced. “Azzi, that’s not nothing,” she says gently. “Is she okay?”

Azzi finally looks at Caroline. “She is.”

Caroline senses the finality in Azzi’s words and nods slowly, her curiosity still piqued, but understanding that Azzi isn’t going to share more. “Alright. I get it,” Caroline says, leaning back on the couch, not pressing any further.

True to Paige's word, as Azzi climbs into bed, her phone buzzes. She picks it up with a smile, seeing Paige's name light up the screen. Her fingers quickly swipe across the screen.

Paige💗You good?

Azzi reads the text and replies with a single word, followed by another.

Azzi <3 Course

Azzi <3 Why wouldn’t I be?

A few moments later, Paige responds.

Paige💗We kinda rushed for you.

Azzi’s chest warms a little at that. She pauses before texting back.

Azzi <3 You’re sweet

Azzi <3 Truly

Azzi <3 But the word "quickie" exists for a reason

Paige’s reaction comes through quickly — adding a laughing reaction to the message. Before adding

Paige💗Just wanted to make sure.

As Paige and Azzi continue their text exchange, a knock at the door interrupts the rhythm of the conversation for a second. Caroline glances over before moving to answer it, pulling the door open just enough to see who’s there.

CD stands in the hallway, her expression neutral as she steps just inside the room. Her gaze scans the space, quickly landing on Azzi sitting up on her bed, phone in hand. CD gives a small, satisfied nod, completing her room check, but her eyes linger for a second longer when she notices the shirt Azzi is wearing—the familiar bold Minnesota lettering printed across the front.

If CD has any thoughts about it, she doesn’t voice them. Instead, she offers a simple, “Goodnight, girls.” She doesn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and pulling the door shut behind her.

Azzi chuckles under her breath, shaking her head slightly before turning her attention back to her phone, her fingers resuming their steady taps against the screen. Her smile growing as she sends another message to Paige.

Meanwhile, Caroline moves through the dim room, flipping off the last light before climbing into her bed.

Azzi remains awake, the faint glow of her phone illuminating her face as she continues the constant back-and-forth with Paige.

[moonstruckme]

Here’s my idea for Spencer and intern!reader if you’d be so kind to write it <3 something like Spencer comforting reader after she saw/experienced something rough and is trying not to show emotion bc she thinks that’s what being on the team is

Thank you for requesting!

cw: crime scene, no descriptions but there is a body and the killing is discussed in vague terms, nausea, reader is a bau intern but also an adult

Spencer Reid x intern!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re all bottled up. Spencer should be listening to the police officer telling them about witnesses who discovered the victim, but you’re distracting him. You’re breathing deep and slow, intentionally, and your gaze flickers between the cop and the body like you’re not sure which deserves your attention more. Your skin looks waxy in the morning light. 

Spencer is able to step away fairly easily, leaving JJ and Morgan with the officer as he grasps your elbow to pull you with him. 

Closer, your breaths are audibly stilted. “What’s up?” you ask, sounding remarkably composed despite how your eyes are still moving between Spencer and the victim. 

He walks you away from the crowd, back towards the SUV. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” 

You say it too fast. Spencer watches you realize this, and in the same moment you know of course he has too. 

Still, he says gently, “You look like you’re going to faint. If you are, it’s better if you tell me.” 

You reach the SUV. Spencer opens the passenger side, expecting you to sit in the seat to steady yourself, but you only take refuge behind the door. Away from the eyes of the rest of the team, you close your eyes, sucking in another deep breath. 

“I’m not going to faint,” you say on the exhale. This time, with enough conviction that Spencer believes you. “I’m really sorry, I just—I feel sort of sick.” 

“That’s okay,” he murmurs. 

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine in a minute.” 

“Do you want some water?” Spencer reaches into the glove box to find an unopened bottle. “Here, drink small sips of this.” 

“I’m okay,” you say, twisting the cap off to do as he says. 

“It’s okay if you’re not,” he offers. “I know it’s not your first crime scene, but it can be disturbing, the things we see. You know, for most people, even smelling a dead body without seeing it is enough to…” He slows when he can hear his team groaning at him in his head. Spence, JJ would say, in her fond and motherly way, not helping. “...to…well, you know. It’s a lot.” 

You give a little laugh. Fortunately, you seem not to be affected by Spencer reminding you of the smell. Unfortunately, you now look closer to tears than vomiting. 

“I know we have to see this stuff all the time.” Your voice is choked down to a whisper, face pointed at the ground. Spencer finds himself leaning closer to hear you. “And I know that none of the deaths are pretty, or…or easy. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to let it affect me.” 

“That’s nothing to be sorry about. We’re all affected.” 

“But you don’t show it.” 

“We have…we have practice. But we all show it sometimes. Some cases are worse for some of us than others.” 

“I guess I just haven’t—” Your voice splinters, and Spencer’s heart does a poor mimicry of the sound. “—haven’t seen one this…intentional yet.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as two tears streak down your cheeks. You look frustrated and afraid, and even younger than usual. Spencer has his arms around you without knowing how he got there. 

He understands what you mean. The cases you’ve worked so far have been awful in their own ways, but this killer took his time in a way the others didn’t. He left his victim mutilated, torn apart with a cold-hearted meticulousness that would be enough to horrify even the most seasoned agent. By your anguish, Spencer knows you’ve probably seen it all play out in your mind a dozen times. 

Spencer thinks of himself as an empathetic person. He’s seen some terrible things, but he still tries to meet people, especially people at his job, with compassion and kindness. It doesn’t explain why he’s so startlingly desperate to soothe you. 

He holds the back of your head and keeps you folded into him, his other hand rubbing your back as you take in a wet, shuddering inhale. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.” 

Your voice is a choked, fraught thing. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” 

“I want to be professional.” 

“Sweetheart” —it slips out without him meaning for it to; Spencer ploughs ahead before either of you can think about it— “you’re not being unprofessional. This is…this is what we do. It’s hard sometimes. Everyone here understands that. Everyone on our team has done what you’re doing.” 

Another short, soft laugh, followed by a sniffle. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Is that why you’re so good at this?” 

Spencer pauses. “No, I’m…well, I wouldn’t say I am good at this, actually. I’m glad you think so, though.” 

“Yeah, you are.” You straighten, wiping underneath your eyes with a knuckle. “God, everyone is going to know I cried.” 

He can’t deny that. “They won’t care,” he promises you instead. “No one will ask questions if you don’t want them to. We all get it.” 

“I knew there were some really fucked up people out there,” you say in a small voice. “I just haven’t really thought as much about the people who…” Your gaze shifts, as if drawn by a magnet, through the tinted window of the SUV and back toward the crime scene. Your expression goes haunted. “...who they…” 

Spencer puts his hand to the side of your face. It’s not like him, and your eyes widen at the contact but you let him direct your attention away. Your skin is warm and tacky against his fingertips.

“It might help to sit down for a minute,” he suggests gently. You’re pliable, allowing him to nudge you back into the passenger seat. “Drink some more, okay? Do you still feel sick?” 

You think about it, then shake your head. “Not really.” 

“Let’s wait a bit anyway.” 

You swallow some water. Worry your lip. “You shouldn't have to coddle me.” 

“It’s not coddling,” Spencer says quickly. Too quickly, maybe. Luckily, you’re not as skilled a profiler and you don’t catch him. “It’s okay to step away sometimes. They don’t need us over there right now.” 

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “Yeah, okay. Thank you, Spencer.” 

He gets called lots of things. Spencer is one of them, of course, along with Reid, Spence, Kid, Boy Genius, and sometimes even Professor. None of them sounds as heavy sweet as his name on your lips. 

“We can wait here.” He decides it as it comes out of his mouth. He’ll have to get the details of the crime scene secondhand, might even make a trip to the coroner’s later to inspect the body himself, but in this moment Spencer can’t think of anything he wouldn’t do to make you comfortable. Inconveniences are trivial. “They’ll come find us when they’re ready to go to the station.” 

You look conflicted, your dedication to the team warring with your obvious desire to avoid being near the victim again. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” Spencer’s own voice sounds distant as he tries to make sense of the unfamiliar tug in his middle. “I’m sure.”

[gf2bellamy]

Hi! can you do a post prison spencer x reader where they were kind of a thing before he went in and then prison happened, then he gets out and he finally makes a move since he thinks he should lose more time. Dont know if I explained it well. Love your writing!

time — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader wears a dress a/n: hii thanks for your request !! <33 i hope this is what you asked for

Was it weird to sleep in the same bed as Spencer Reid? Maybe. But then again, he had asked you to. And who were you to deny him that request, especially after everything he had been through? After he had just gotten out of prison, after the nightmares, the isolation —how could you say no? 

Right now, he was practically draped over you, his head resting heavily on your shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. You hadn’t fallen asleep yet, but he had, and you weren’t surprised.

The exhaustion was etched into every line of his face, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to the toll the past few months had taken on him.

But here, in this moment, he looked peaceful. Content.

And so were you. 

It had been a couple of days since he’d been home, and every single one of those days, he had called you over. He didn’t want to let you out of his sight, as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he looked away for too long. You didn’t mind.

You never minded when it came to Spencer. 

Your fingers absentmindedly played with his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers as you listened to the rhythm of his breathing. His warm breath brushed against your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine despite the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

You didn’t know what you were to him—or what he was to you, for that matter. Even before he went to prison, the two of you had been… something. Not quite defined, not quite labeled.

Just something.

Friends, maybe. But then again friends didn’t make your heart race the way he did.

You glanced down at his sleeping form, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, his face relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen in months. Your heart fluttered, just like it always did when you looked at him. It was ridiculous, really.

You had known him for years, had seen him at his best and his worst, had laughed with him, cried with him, argued with him.

And yet, every time you looked at him, it felt like the first time all over again.

You had missed him. God, you had missed him so much it hurt. It wasn’t just the kind of missing that made your chest ache—it was the kind that left a physical void, a hollow space that only he could fill.

And now that he was here, now that he was real and solid and warm in your arms, it still felt like a dream. Like if you blinked too hard or breathed too loudly, he’d vanish, and you’d wake up alone again. 

You felt him stir, and you immediately stilled your fingers in his hair, not wanting to wake him. He’d only been asleep for an hour or two, and he needed the rest more than anything.

Spencer shifted slightly, his head nuzzling deeper into your shoulder, his hair now brushing against your face. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, as if even in his sleep, he was afraid to let you go. 

You waited a moment, holding your breath, before slowly resuming the gentle motion of your fingers through his hair. Your eyes stayed fixed on him, tracing the lines of his face, the curve of his lips, the way his lashes rested against his cheeks.

You loved looking at him—more than anything in this world

Suddenly, his voice broke the silence, soft and sleep-roughened. “I like it when you play with my hair.” 

A smile tugged at your lips as you saw him crack one eye open, peering up at you with a drowsy, half-awake expression. “Sorry,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

He loosened his hold on you, shifting slightly as he lifted his head from your shoulder. You immediately missed the weight of him, the warmth of his body pressed against yours. He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face, and you followed suit, propping yourself up on one elbow. 

“You didn’t wake me,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep. “What time is it?” 

You reached over to grab your phone from the nightstand, the screen lighting up as you checked the time. “5 p.m.,” you replied, setting the phone back down. 

Spencer blinked, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed the information.  

“I didn’t mean to sleep that long,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and you couldn’t help but smile at how endearingly rumpled he looked. 

“You need the rest,” you said softly, noticing how he scooted closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. The small, almost unconscious gesture made you smile.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, his voice still a little rough from sleep as he shifted toward the edge of the bed. He stood up, reaching out his hand to you almost instinctively. You took it without hesitation, your fingers curling around his as he led you out of the room and towards the kitchen. 

“No, I was being suffocated by someone,” you teased, shooting him a playful grin. 

 Spencer glanced back at you, his expression a mix of amusement and mild exasperation, but he didn’t let go of your hand. If anything, his grip tightened just a little.

He opened the fridge, still holding onto your hand, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way your fingers were intertwined.

Even before Spencer went to prison, he had always been touchy with you—more so than with anyone else. A hand on your shoulder, a brush of his fingers against yours, a casual arm slung around you during movie nights.

But since he’d been back, it seemed like that habit had intensified.

“There’s nothing in here,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you, as he absently began tracing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

The gesture was so natural, so unconscious, that it made your heart skip a beat. 

“We can go out and get some food,” you suggested, glancing up at him. You also thought it would be good for him to get out of the house.

Since he’d been back, the two of you had barely left, and Spencer had spent most of his time catching up on sleep.

A change of scenery might do him some good. 

Spencer turned to look at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. 

He had spent so much time in prison, so much time away from you, and now that he was back, he didn’t want to waste another second.

Sure, he was holding your hand. Sure, he had just spent the last hour curled up with you in bed, his head on your shoulder, your fingers in his hair.

But that wasn’t enough. Not anymore. He wanted more. He wanted to take you out, to show you how much you meant to him, to make up for all the time he had lost.

The idea popped into his head suddenly.

A date. 

He wanted to take you on a real date. Not just this—not just quiet moments in his apartment or yours, as much as he loved those.

He wanted to take you somewhere nice, somewhere special.

You raised your eyebrows, trying to decipher the unreadable expression on his face. “What?” you asked when the silence stretched a little too long.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, finally looking away, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

Nothing except the fact that I’m going to take you on the best date you’ve ever been on, he thought.

But he didn’t say that.

Instead, he just squeezed your hand gently and said, “But yes, we can do that.”

A couple of days later, you were sitting in your own apartment, trying to convince yourself that everything was fine. But the truth was, you missed Spencer. You missed him so much it felt like a physical ache.

Over the past few weeks, you had spent so much time at his place that being back in your own apartment felt… wrong. It didn’t feel like home without him.

Your couch felt too empty, the silence too loud, the space too big. 

To distract yourself, you picked up one of the books he had given you for your birthday.

It was a thick, well-loved novel with a note scribbled in the margin in his familiar handwriting.

You smiled faintly as you traced the words with your finger, remembering the way his eyes had lit up when he handed it to you.

“You’ll love this one,” he had said, his voice brimming with excitement.

You sat comfortably on the couch, the book open in your lap, while the TV played softly in the background for some noise.

But your mind kept wandering, drifting back to Spencer.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed, breaking you out of your thoughts. You glanced at it immediately, your heart skipping a beat when you saw Spencer’s name on the screen.

A smile tugged at your lips as you opened the message. 

"I was thinking… perhaps you could wear something nice tonight? I’ll be there at 7. If that’s alright with you, of course."

You stared at the message for a moment, your smile widening as you typed out your reply: "Okay, sure. I’ll see you then :)"

You hesitated for a second, your thumb hovering over the send button. Then, before you could overthink it, you added: "But just so you know, you’re being weirdly mysterious right now. I’m intrigued."

Slowly, you set the book and your phone aside as you stood up, making your way to your bedroom.

You stood in front of your closet, staring at the rows of clothes.

What exactly did “nice” mean? A dress? Something casual but elegant? You hesitated for a moment before grabbing a simple dress from the hook, deciding it was your safest bet. 

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You took a deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of your dress before opening it.

And there he was—Spencer Reid, standing on your doorstep in a suit. Your mouth fell open slightly as your eyes raked over him. Sure, you had seen him in a suit before, but this… this was different.

He looked good. Too good. So good that your brain short-circuited for a moment, leaving you momentarily speechless. 

He looked at you with wide eyes, his breath catching as he took in your appearance. “You look… beautiful,” he said, his voice soft.

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you glanced down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Thank you,” you said shyly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just kept looking at you as if he was memorizing every detail.

Finally, you broke the silence. “So… what exactly am I dressed up for?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. 

Spencer hesitated, his hands fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves before he took a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose any more time,” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “I want to take you on a date. A real one.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for a moment, you just stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. A date.

Spencer Reid wanted to take you on a date. 

“A date?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yes. A date. I’ve wasted too much time already, and I don’t want to waste any more. Not when it comes to you.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. But then you smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made his eyes light up in return.

“Okay,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. Your hand found his, fingers intertwining as you gave it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go on a date.”

[beardedjoel]

i cannot stress enough that prompt #15 on the first list is SOOOO smother coded, imagine on a hot summer night joel and blossom are up late and just yapping and looking up at the stars (blossom would def make a joke about how one of the constellations reminds her of joel) and then one thing after another he's fucking her raw and deep into the ground, when they're done blossom has grass stains on her dress or something (ALSO JULIE CONGRATS ON 5K YOU FUCKING DESERVE ILY)

thank you so much for sending this in and the kind words bby! beyond appreciate your patience from sending this in months ago 🤧 sorry for the delay! i had so so much fun writing this one though hehe because it really was very smother coded and it felt so natural for them. stargazing really does feel like something they'd do together often, especially after the way it goes for them here!

sea of stars — joel x f!reader

request: "stargazing that turns into sex". sent in as part of my 5k celebration! could be read as a standalone daddy joel if you really wanted to but it is rather smother-y and written with them in mind 😋

wc: 2.9k

warnings: dry (wet?) humping, piv, dirty talk, ddlg / daddy dom!joel + sub!reader

Sticky, thick air clings close to your skin, your hopes of beating the late night heat of summer by opening all the windows dashed as the house remains a stuffy, sweltering prison. You wished for air flow more than anything, a fan, and Joel promised he would do his best to find a working one for the two of you someday. You knew it was unlikely to ever materialize, but Joel would do his damndest to never give up on something that you’d so sweetly asked for.

“Can’t sleep, daddy,” you murmur, rubbing your burning, tired eyes and rolling over to face him. Despite the heat, your naked body gravitates towards him, your longing for him unable to be quelled by it and the layer of sweat that seems to permanently live on your skin. His arms find you, bringing you close, clammy limbs tangling together but neither of you caring, lethargic in your movements.

“I know, sweetheart. ‘M sorry,” he replies, stroking your hair soothingly. “It’s jus’ a heatwave, darlin’, these usually only last a few days. Should be out of it soon.”

You nod, still feeling pitiful, sighing and rolling onto your back as Joel’s arms retract, the both of you trying to cool off again. After a few silent beats, Joel sits up in bed, watching you blink listlessly at the ceiling.

“Alright, up. I’ve got an idea,” he says.

You clamber off the mattress half in a daze and he hands you a ball of thin fabric - your nightgown that had been discarded before you got in bed. Sheer and lovely and see through, you pull it over your head, the material thankfully feather light on your skin. Joel feels better knowing you’re covered up for what he has planned. It’s odd, how deep the possession runs, knowing that nobody else is within miles of this place, but still feeling that pull to keep you as only his to see. It didn’t hurt that you always looked almost too alluring in the clothing he picked out for you.

After tugging on a pair of briefs, Joel leads you outside, snatching a throw from the back of the couch as you pass. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you step past the threshold, the cooler air sweeter than anything as it caresses your skin. 

“Few degrees makes all the difference, don’t it?” Joel says, and you quickly agree with a happy little hum. His hand on the small of your back, he guides you away from the cabin, stopping where a clearing of trees reveals the night sky to you, the moon only a tiny sliver shimmering in the distance, hardly providing any light. You strain your eyes slightly, comforted by the warmth radiating off of Joel reminding you he’s right there.

“Lay down,” he tells you, and you pause, wondering if he can see your face scrunched up in confusion as both of your eyes still adjust to the darkness. “Jus’ trust me,” he adds on at your hesitation, kissing the side of your head.

You lay down on your back, the cool grass beneath you making you smile as goosebumps briefly prickle your skin. You’d started to lose hope that it was possible to find relief in heat like this. Folding your hands over your stomach, you see Joel kneeling down next to you, hear him groan quietly as his knees crack on the way.

“Now tell me what you see, honey,” Joel says, settling next to you.

The obvious answer is right above you, twinkling dots littering the black sky. Their serene beauty transfixes you as you simply mutter, “Stars.”

“Mhm,” Joel confirms, propped up on his elbow to face you. “Pretty, ain’t they?” His fingers tease along your scalp, brushing backwards in rhythmic, soothing strokes. Lulled by his touch, you simply nod, letting the sea of stars swim in front of your eyes.

“You know any constellations?” he asks, laying onto his back to gaze at the sky with you.

“Mm, not really. Can you teach me?”

“Don’t know very many myself.” He pauses, scanning the sky for a few quiet moments. “Well I know that one there. ‘S the big dipper, but everyone knows it. Y’see the handle? An’ the big spoon part too?”

Joel’s hand envelops yours, guiding it to point towards the constellation. You squint, focusing your eyes to try and see it, but shake your head, making a contemplative little noise. “Kind of,” you say, twisting your lips to the side. “Wait… yeah, I see it, daddy! Right there…” You move your hand with his in a line, showing that you see the handle.

“You got it, princess.”

Both of your hands fall to the side, staying interlinked as you quietly observe the beauty floating above you, suspended in the clear sky. You’ve completely forgotten about the heat, the restlessness that had plagued you these last few hours. The air stays cool enough to take the edge off, your skin finally free from that grimy layer of sweat it seemed to carry at all hours during this heat wave.

“What’s that one?” you ask, finger pointing high into the night sky.

“I- I don’t know if that is one, darlin’,” Joel replies amusedly, trying to follow your eyeline. “We’ll get you a book on it, maybe, you’ll be a pro in no time.”

You give a bright smile at his offer while trying to make out more shapes in the twinkling expanse above. “What about that one?” you ask impatiently, pointing again. “It kind of looks like a face, maybe. Maybe it’s you,” you turn your head, giving him a cheeky grin as you laugh.

“Silly girl,” Joel chides you with a chuckle, reaching over to pinch your cheek for the teasing. “You know that daddy doesn’t know everything, right? Despite what it may seem.”

You giggle quietly, shaking your head. “You do know everything, daddy. Isn’t that one of the rules?”

“Knowin’ best f’you and knowin’ everything are very different, blossom,” he says playfully. “An’ especially when it comes to this… constellation stuff, I ain’t ever thought to learn them before, really. Sometimes it’s nice to just… look at ‘em. Thas’ been my philosophy, at least.”

“It is nice…” you mutter dazedly, feeling lulled by the serenity of the sky, the quiet noises of the forest surrounding you, the rustle of a soft but gladly received breeze blowing by. 

“Feelin’ better?” Joel asks, rubbing his thumb over your hand.

“Mhm. Much better,” you reply, sounding more subdued. The heat had made it harder to keep your composure throughout the last few days, leaving you on edge and worried you would inadvertently snap at Joel, resulting in a punishment. It had been a while since he’d had to dole one out, but the memories of them alone makes your body feel flush with need.

You did hate getting them, yet craved the heated attention from him that came with it. You curl a little closer to him at the thought, rubbing your thighs together.

“I can cuddle you again, daddy,” you tell him, making Joel’s chest vibrate with a tiny chuckle.

“You didn’t want to cuddle your old man before?” You can practically hear the daring raise of his brows in his voice.

“Too hot,” you insist innocently, tucking your face near Joel’s armpit and poking him in the side. He makes a noise of agreement as he playfully swats you away. You’d noticed the same from him during this heatwave - the way his body wanted to gravitate towards yours as usual, but even your insatiable Joel had found it too stiflingly hot to give you what you both desired as often as normal.

Now, however…

His energy shifts, hand slithering down your back, making goosebumps crop up as you shiver. Even less than a few days without his touch has your nerves frazzled the second his hands are on you again, greedily making their way down to your ass, squeezing hard at the plush skin there.

A needy growl pulls up from Joel’s throat, leaning forward to press his lips to your ear, wrapping them around your ear lobe and suckling. Another wave of goosebumps trails over your entire body, a helpless cry whimpered out. 

“Ain’t had enough of you these last few days…” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, raspy and heated. Your breath catches and you clench between your legs, your core moving towards his without thought, throwing a leg over his. His hand tightens on your ass, yanking you closer until you can feel the hard shape of his cock press into you. The thin fabric of both of your clothing does little to hinder either of you, and you start rolling your hips against him, whining.

“Poor baby is needy without her daddy filling her up constantly, isn’t she?” Joel taunts, his other arm slipping underneath you to grab your other ass cheek, now starting a steady, faster rhythm against him.

“Daddy…” you manage to whine breathlessly, your mind only focused on the feeling between the two of you, brain going fuzzy with need. He seems to grow harder, his cock desperate to break the confines of his clothing, to wear down the fabric of your dress with the way he’s moving you in earnest now. You gush between your legs, built up tension from the last few days that hadn’t been sated well enough coming back in full force. 

The fabric of your dress pressed further between your legs starts to grow damp, catching on your poor clit and sending little waves of pleasure buzzing through you. You moan quietly, only forlorn little breaths that Joel eats up, fueling him to keep forcing you to rut into him.

“I w-want -” you try to speak, but the bulge in Joel’s briefs reaches deeper between your thighs, your entire body twitching. 

His lips find your earlobe again, biting gently before turning to your neck and nibbling there. “What does my blossom need, hm? Use your words…”

You whine in response, thrusting inward at the same time Joel urges your hips forward, moaning louder. You pant, angling yourself to get off even easier on him, feeling an obscene amount of moisture seeping onto your dress, soft squelches filling the air as it leaks onto Joel’s briefs, too.

“Christ, baby, my little girl is a needy fuckin’ thing isn’t she,” Joel punches out in disbelief, losing control, his hips twitching harder into yours, chasing his pleasure.

“I-Inside…” you manage to choke out.

Joel tsks. “Not ‘till you give me one,” he demands. You immediately double down on the rocking of your hips, letting yourself get lost in it until your body is burning, so close to reaching that bliss. His cock leaks for you, adding to the wetness sticking to the clothing between you, sweat forming on your brow and neck and everywhere else now, too.

The climax hits you in a hurried burst, leaving just as quickly, not the release you’d been hoping for. You groan in frustration as you come down, clinging to Joel’s sweaty chest.

“Pl-please, daddy. I’ll do anything…” You beg him, your skin prickling and hot with frustration, the heat slowly making you irritable again.

“Anythin’? Ain’t no different from any other day, princess.” He teases, mocking you with that drip of condescension he does so well. It only riles you up further, and you move to untangle yourself from him to move into the position you know will give you the relief you need from him. Before you can get on your hands and knees, Joel grabs you by the waist, pulling you into where he still lays, your body fumbling into his solid chest as it clunks back to the ground. His lips press to your ear, your body tight to his as one arm holds you by the torso, the other near your neck. “Nuh-uh. You know you don’t get to decide how I take you. That ain’t how this works,” he grits out, ruthless.

Whimpering, that odd mixture of excitement and fear coursing through your veins, you smirk, struggling slightly in his hold to egg him on, your ass wriggling into his crotch. Joel clocks it immediately, moving to reach between you and tug down his briefs and tear your dress off where it already barely covers your ass.

“Gonna make me crazy, bein’ a little brat like that, baby. We both know that ain’t you. She’s a good girl. Right?” He presses his cock between your thighs, forcing it through to your entrance, teasing you when you remain silent. “Right?! Say it, sweetheart. Tell daddy you aren’t a brat.”

“I-I’m not…” Just the tip of his cock presses inward and you grit your teeth, holding back the pathetic, desperate begging you really want to spit out. “I’m not a brat, daddy, I promise. I just -”

“You need daddy’s cock, I know.” He interrupts you with a press inward of his hips at his words, sinking the thick length of himself inside of you. You squeal, the noise turning to a moan of relief as he slides in easily, your slickness already coating everything, including the way it’s dripping down the inside of your thighs.

“What are you then, if you ain’t a brat?” Joel sits perfectly still, his well practiced restraint palpable between the two of you. You want him to move, you need him to move, to fill that void you’d been missing for the last few days.

“I’m a g-good girl. I am… I am… I-I’m good, see?” You keep perfectly still with Joel for a long beat, letting him make the final call on whether or not you’ve been good enough. One of your hands grasps tightly into the grass to pour out your pent up frustration, nails digging into the earth.

Joel cranes his neck to kiss the side of your head. “That’s right. Thank you, blossom. Good girls get a reward from their daddy, too.”

You nod eagerly, and in a flash Joel’s body is on top of yours, forcing his cock to plunge deeper inside of you as you lay belly down. He yanks on your hips, bringing them upwards and begins to thrust steadily and surely into you. Your g-spot immediately feels the change in angle as he starts to press on it, your pussy pulsing around him, still sensitive from the last climax.

“Y-yes, yes…” you groan out, the top half of your torso still pressed into the ground going deeper into the grass with each bounce of your body on Joel’s thrusts. He smacks your ass and you yelp happily, heat radiating from there into pleasure at your core when he does it again.

“S-shit… baby, come for me. Want to hear you, want to feel you. Daddy a-ain’t gonna last…”

Something about his desperation pulls your insides taut, makes you clench harder around him. His hand reaches to your clit, rubbing urgently as he pounds into you. “Come, f-fuck, come, blossom. Now.”

His command, always your bidding, follows that same pattern now, sending you toppling over the edge. You come hard, your legs trembling, sinking lower to the ground so that you’re almost flat, your knees unable to hold you up. The pure abyss of pleasure rocks through you for those few, perfect moments as Joel pants above you as he pistons his hips faster. He suddenly yanks himself out of you, leaving you empty and trembling. You hear the squelch of your slickness in his hand, pumping his cock a few times before the hot splattering of his cum hits your back, soaking through your dress.

Joel sighs, collapsing next to you on his back, tucking himself back inside his briefs. “S-sorry, baby. I needed that too, I guess,” he says, sounding more sheepish than usual.

“I liked it,” you tease him, genuine in your words. You roll to your side, sitting up slightly and glancing down at your dress with a frown. Through the dark, your eyes more well adjusted now, you can see the stain smeared across the front of it. It isn’t the first time that grass stains have invaded your wardrobe from a passionate moment like this, but you like your dresses pristine for Joel, always worried about him getting it out for you. “My dress…” you lament.

Joel’s lips pull up into a smirk. “Afraid the back ain’t any better.”

You giggle, flustered and still shy after all this time at the thought of what you and Joel do together after the moment passes. “You made a mess this time, daddy.”

His lips find yours, pressing a deep kiss to them. “Can’t help that it looks good on you. You want to go change?”

“Too tired now. Want to sleep.” You shake your head, blinking at the night sky again, studying the stars with heavier lids now. The cooler outside air, despite your recent activities making you sweat all over again, starts to dry it quickly, leaving you pleasantly comfortable and sated. Joel’s plan seemed to work wonders, this setup much better than it had been trying to fight for sleep inside the stuffy house. Your limbs feel lazy and heavy, body still humming from your climax, every part of you comforted when Joel moves to hold you.

He smiles softly, placated to see you so at ease now. Joel reaches for the throw blanket, unraveling it and setting it at the ready for when you inevitably start to get chilly in your sleep. 

“You sleep then, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.”

[elodieunderglass]

I hope your evening is better than your day was. ✨💫

In reference to me haggardly saying in the tags that after the day I’d had, everything (horrible things with legs) that my loved ones (you guys) were doing to heal me (send me horrible things with legs) was a help. And it was. And you are.

It was a tough old month already. But it’s all swings-and-roundabouts, snakes-and-ladders, win-some-lose-some, 🫴🫳.

I sleep about 9 hours in 48 at the moment, which is not especially great, owing to the Wretchedness of Mouse (2), a largely nocturnal animal. But then when Mouse is awake at Mouse o’Clock and quietly pottering around on Mouse Business, there isn’t much I can usefully do, so I’m just curled up with Dr Glass’s tablet, peacefully drawing Killie the jockey OC. As a result I’ve realised something massive for me, that my creativity is THERE, but fuelled by self-indulgence! Like, with stuff like fanfic projects and Killie, there was always a lot of “mental braking” on before, with me anticipating (based on evidence experience of posting my writing online for mumblety-many years) how much people would dislike it - put the brakes on, Elodie, we can’t let the haters know that we yearn. But hey, I started rambling on about fics and my own OCs, and YES it’s probably startling and annoying for some people and I do apologise, but ALSO you’ve all been very kind, and I think that it’s better for me to have the brakes off. 4 am takes notwithstanding, it’s better to have the brakes off. So what if I’m cringe and occasionally annoying - I have paid my dues and done my duties.

The new shed at the allotment blew down, but we have been forgiven for our carelessness in allowing it to happen, and two people on the committee have approached me with kindness - one committee member even stopping me in a shop to tell me, “people want to help you, Elodie, we’re your friends, you know.” Citation needed, but there you go.

Saturdays are always made especially for me dreadful by taking children to swimming lessons, on foot both ways, but usually we walk on to meet friends for coffee after. I go out with my friends and play board games with our neighbours and have learned how to play Wingspan.

Dr Glass received an official diagnosis of ME, but I bought a robot vacuum in the strength of that - saying, well, why assume things will ever get easier? Let’s get easy now! - and actually I really like having a robot vacuum!!

There have been more causes than I could help with, but my promotion has strengthened the coffers, so this month I’ve been able to donate to a few!

Due to childcare falling through, I had to take all three kids to an antifash protest in the cold and was dreading it - the walking, the whining, is it going to be awkward, i trust the organisers but HE’S not bringing his kids, GOD. But then my neighbour and her giant puppy came with us! on purpose! And we knew a lot of people there and the kids played.

I had to buy some clothes for work, and I never buy anything new (never having money) and was scared I’d get it wrong (stupid and weird) but I buckled up and bought these: https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/rosamoth-button-up-midi-skirt https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/swamplife-frog-embroidered-linen-blend-high-waist-midaxi-skirt

And it sounds bonkers, but the amount of people at work, etc, who have come up and instantly allied themselves with me on the strength of Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt has strengthened my convictions. Strongly recommend Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt and their emotional equivalents if you hit a stage of career where you need to suddenly level up.

I am thinking about counterweights. And kindness. And the balance of the turning world. And the light in the sky coming back. And, unfortunately, Killie, but he’s a counterweight too; sure, he’s awful, but we already know he contains the seeds of becoming okay.

As evidence suggests that many things do.

Thank you for your shining kindness, and my love back to you 💫

[thepleathersfine]

AAAAAAAA you’re so nice man😭 you’ve been such a great friend and I love love love seeing your art. I don’t know how you manage to stay motivated with the amount of new stuff you’re always putting out. Thank you <3333 (Also putting my husband in a tupperware and shaking it violently)

Ahem

@bred-toaster My pookie schmookie my bestie my every Pinterest post reminds me of you my I die a little inside when I notice I picked up one of your mannerisms. Bred, my first friend, my enemy. Maybe the last face I ever see (hamilton) we’re literally what killed the dinosaurs (you know that one) 🫶 I heart you and let it be known I found out about chappell roan first☝️and no this was not an elaborate plea for Odin’s brother to appear in my room at exactly 2:13 A.M. I literally don’t know what you’re talking about.

@arborpoo Boyfriend. I looooove yooooou <33333 just letting it be known that I finished your valentines gift. You’re so lovely, I hope you know that. Working on our aus has been so great. Ngl watching you be all silly and creative is very much what made me fall for you (along with 1000 other things.) Looking back I never expected any of this, I couldn’t have imagined you’d become so incredibly important to me. I’m so lucky to have you. Also currently absorbing Zy, no, you can’t do anything about this. He’s doomed to a good happy ending. (Oh and atlas bell drowned last night.)

@brick-678 hi ellis. You’re mean but silly so you’re here. In lieu of a proper appreciation post I considered writing a bunch of inspirational quotes in commemoration of baby ellis’ art. But ehhhhh wtf are you doing for sam though. Wild that my DAD asked if you were doing anything for valentines before I even considered it. Especially since I deadass have asked everyone else???? You and sam need to do more pdfs or whatever, and I swear if you say you’re broke again I’m gonna cry. Anyway your ocs are silly, if we could go back to poking Esme with a stick that’d be sick.

@bennyben117 I’m terrified of your disc pfp. Also tell adam I say hi

@arborpoo Hi yes you again this is for my brother husband in Christ, Ze, cause he doesn’t have a tumblr I’m aware of. I just wanted to say when I mention him to my dad he gets jumpscared

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

[willowsnook]

an experiment pt. 4

lando norris x reporter!reader

a/n: this is the final part friends. hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this. thank you for all the kind words

tags: @sarx164 @wildflowerrsszz, @jaematthews15, @opastries81 @armystay89 @hadesnumber1daughter @dying-inside-but-its-classy@chlmtfilms@freyathehuntress @ashley-k@charlesgirl16@widow-cevans@cmleitora@rawr-123s-stuff@majapapaya4@fullmugwolffish @330bpm-whiplash @prudyhoo

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3

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

You sat in complete silence for five minutes. 

That fucking asshole. 

A wave of rage fueled you as you bolted up and to your bedroom, ripping out your suitcase from underneath the bed. Muttering under your breath about that man having the audacity to hang up, you started pulling clothes out of your drawers and shoving them into the bag. 

Once that was done you got on your laptop to find the next flight to Monaco. The prices made you want to throw up but in your pissed off state, you didn’t care. This is why credit cards exist, right?

13 hour redeye. Godspeed. 

—-----------------------

It was 4:30 in the morning when Lando woke up to someone pounding on his door. What the fuck? He thought before getting out of the bed, rubbing his eyes as he made it to the door. 

To say he was shocked when he saw you standing there was an understatement. 

“I can’t believe you hung up the phone on me,” you yelled at him angrily in greeting, moving past him to set your bag down. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked sleepily, trying to figure out if this was a dream or reality. 

“I’m here to fight you,” you told him, crossing your arms. 

“You want to fight me?” He asked, confusion on his face. “Can we do that later? It’s five in the morning.” 

You wanted to argue back with him but a yawn escaped your mouth and he gave you a knowing look. 

“Fine, I didn’t really sleep on the plane anyways,” you admitted. “Too busy figuring out what to yell at you.” 

He chuckled before beckoning you to follow him down the hall, you stopped outside of his room. 

“Do you not have a guest room?” You asked and he smirked at you. 

“I do but right now it’s a storage unit for a bunch of racing stuff, so this will have to do,” he said. 

“Can’t you sleep on the couch or something?” You complained and he rolled his eyes. 

“Oh so you confess your love to me on the phone but are getting cold feet now?” He mocked. 

“I didn’t confess my love, I just said that I maybe missed you,” you grumbled, slipping off your shoes. Lando watched as you walked over to his dresser, digging around until you found one of his bigger t-shirts to change into. 

“No cuddling,” you warned as you got into the bed, pulling the covers all around you. Lando respected your statement, sticking to his side of the bed as you drifted off. 

You startled awake to the sound of someone else pounding on the door. Lando had shifted over during your nap, his arms wrapped tightly around you. 

“You’re joking,” he mumbled into your neck. You squirmed to get out of his hold. 

“I told you no cuddling,” you grumbled back at him. You started to throw another insult at him but he jerked your chin towards him, pressing his lips harshly against yours before getting up. 

“I don’t care,” he said. Catching your breath, you heard him greet whoever was at the door, the spanish accent you would recognize from anywhere. 

Carlos was in the kitchen talking to Lando as you entered, his eyes widened at the sight of you, especially in the very minimal clothing. 

“Y/n!” He exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. “I see Lando finally came to his senses.” 

“No, she just showed up at my door this morning,” Lando said, annoyed. Carlos smirked at his friend before turning to you. 

“Seems like it was a nice reunion,” he teased, eyeing you up and down. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you chastised. “We just took a nap, we have a big fight between us on the schedule today.” 

“Well it’ll have to wait because Lando and I are doing a Quadrant shoot in an hour,” Carlos said. 

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll just catch up on work here.”

Lando shook his head, “if you think I’m letting you out of my sight again, you’re very mistaken. You are coming with us.”

You started to argue but the glare he sent your direction shut you up. Carlos waited as you both got ready and then you were off. Lando drove to the sight, his hand gripping your thigh tightly while Carlos smiled to himself in the back. Just happy his friends were together and hadn’t killed one another yet. 

Everyone was already there when you arrived and you let Lando drag you along to where Max was with the cameras. 

“Y/n,” he greeted, surprised. “Good to see you.” 

“You too,” you said, catching the smirk he sent Lando’s way. Lando and Carlos were whisked away to shoot and you hung out with Max in the meantime. 

“Lando didn’t tell me you were coming to Monaco,” Max said. 

“I didn’t tell him I was coming,” you told him and he nodded. 

“That would explain why he was still all pissy yesterday. Been that way honestly since you kicked him out of Austin.” 

“I didn’t kick him out of Austin,” you grumbled but Max’s face made you sigh. “Okay fine maybe I did, but I made a mistake.”

“Does he know that’s how you feel?” Max asked. 

“Oh yeah he does, I told him and then he hung up on me immediately,” you said and Max let out a sharp laugh. 

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Classic Lando. He's been moping for months, and when you finally reach out, he panics and hangs up. No wonder you flew all the way here."

You sighed, watching Lando pose for photos with Carlos. "I don't know what I was thinking, honestly. We still have so much to figure out."

Max nudged your shoulder. "Hey, the fact that you're both here, willing to try, that's a good start. Just... talk to each other, yeah? No more running away or hanging up phones."

You nodded, offering him a small smile. "Thanks, Max. When did you get so wise?"

He grinned. "I've always been wise. You lot just never listen to me."

As the shoot wrapped up, Lando made his way back over to you, his eyes darting between you and Max, a feeling of jealousy creep up his spine at the way you were laughing with his best friend. 

Max was explaining a new project they were working on when you felt two arms wrap around your waist and a chin settle on your shoulder. 

“All done?” You asked him softly. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Ready to go?” 

—------------------------

You waited for Lando as he showered, twiddling your thumbs anxiously knowing that the conversation you’d been avoiding was looming. 

When he finally emerged, damp curls falling messily over his forehead, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, you had to force yourself to focus. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“So,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, “are we actually going to talk, or did you just fly all the way here to yell at me some more?”

Your jaw clenched. “Oh, don’t worry. We’re talking. But I make no promises about the yelling.”

Lando scoffed, dropping the towel onto a chair. “Right. Because it’s all my fault, isn’t it?”

You shot up from your seat. “You hung up on me, Lando! After everything—after months of silence—you didn’t even have the decency to listen to me!”

His nostrils flared. “And what was I supposed to do, huh? Just pretend like it didn’t rip me apart when you pushed me away? That I was just waiting for you to decide I was worth calling?”

“I never said you weren’t worth it!” you snapped. “I was scared, okay? I panicked! But at least I’m here, trying! You—” You jabbed a finger into his chest. “You just ran away like a coward!”

Lando grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not rough. “Coward? Are you serious? You were the one who shut me out, Y/n! I gave you everything, and you threw it away like it didn’t mean anything!”

“Oh, fuck off with that,” you snapped, yanking your hand free. “You don’t get to act like the victim here. I was scared, yes, but you didn’t fight for me either! You just let me go and then acted like I never existed!”

His jaw clenched. “Because I didn’t know what the hell you wanted! One second, we were good, and the next, you were pushing me out like I was nothing.”

“That’s bullshit,” you seethed. “You knew how I felt about you, and instead of trying to talk to me, you let your ego get in the way.”

Lando let out a sharp laugh, running a hand through his hair. “My ego? Jesus Christ, Y/n, you really think this was about my ego?”

“What else would it be about?” you shot back.

His hands balled into fists at his sides. “It was about the fact that I was falling in love with you, and you just—” He exhaled harshly. “You shut down when things got hard. You didn’t trust me enough to stay.”

Your breath hitched, the words slicing through your anger like a knife.

Lando’s chest rose and fell heavily, the weight of what he’d just said hanging between you. You swallowed, hands trembling as you clenched them at your sides.

“And what about you?” you whispered. “You say I didn’t trust you, but you didn’t fight for me either. You let me walk away.”

Lando’s eyes darkened. “Because I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Well, it wasn’t.”

Silence.

You both stood there, breathing hard, staring at each other like two opposing forces in an inevitable collision.

Lando was the first to move. One step forward. Then another. Until he was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“They told me I could have the F1 assignment if I wanted it,” you whispered. 

His hands hovered near your arms, uncertain. “And do you?” he asked, voice low, rough.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “If you still want me to.”

A beat of hesitation.

And then he reached for you.

You didn’t stop him. Didn’t push him away. His lips crashed onto yours, desperate, angry, needing. You matched his intensity, fingers curling into his damp curls, pulling him closer as if you could make up for all the lost time in one kiss.

When you finally pulled away, foreheads pressed together, you exhaled shakily.

“No more running,” you murmured.

Lando nodded. “No more hanging up.”

You cracked a small smile. “And no more being a dick?”

He chuckled, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “No promises.”

[cursedcola]

Pov. : Valentines! Who doesn’t like a lil’ gift huhu Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Epel Felmeir, Idia Shroud, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al Asim, Ruggie Bucchi, Deuce Spade, Leona KingScholar, Sebek Zigvolt, Liia Vanrouge, Ace Trappola, Grimmiepoo, and Malleus Draconia. Masterlist: LinkedUP A/N: I’ve always wanted to draw something with an imagine set ^^. Some are longer than others, my bad. Happy Smoocharoo day, everyone. Writings for each square are below the cut.

Pov. A Valentines Surprise :0

Mans was not expecting a present. At all. This is his first year beyond Harveston, where the most romance going on is between the squirelles in the trees. Since Valentines day is a ‘our-earth’ holiday…well, Epel definitely is a bit dense. You might mention it in passing but he won’t think much. Especially since the topic isn't re-occurring. It's definetly there in the back of his mind, but he forgets until the day of.

On the opposite spectrum - Rook clung to the idea like bees to a fresh bloom. He gave out flowers to anyone who crossed his path - all in the pursuit of spreading joy. Vil gets a giant bouquet of roses, but Epel’s happy with his little bushel of lavender sprigs.

It's kinda nice to get a gift just because - y'know? He isn't going to prepare anything since he doesn't want to lose his 'macho bravado'. Yet Pomefiore gets in the spirit hardcore, so he can't escape it.

Whether it’s obligatory, or romantic - Epel’s grateful to get a gift from you. Flattered. Dare I say puffing up just a lil’ bit, because you ain’t giving this to anyone else, right? He’s getting a bit cocky on the inside, look out.

To get a gift on a day like this one, you have to think he's cool. At least better than the others. His competitive streak comes out a wee bit.

He’d have accepted your last cup noodle as a gift (taking great effort to smuggle it in to Pomefiore without being policed. All he wants is one. Just one. ) - but the fact you went out of your way to get macarons makes him feel all sweet inside. Like honey-crisp jam and clotted cream over warm biscuits. He tries to push that feeling down but it just takes over.

Especially when Ace tries to snag one for a taste. Epel should've known better than bringing it to lunch. He let it slide since Ace couldn't come to Fleur city with them, but you bet he was guarding that box like a bloodhound.

Out of all the trouble that came from Fleur city - you remembered his preference and that’s enough to make him accept the gift without a peep. Expect a freshly baked apple pie on White Day. He’s not much for words, but Epel will pull out the best apples for it. No bruises or soft spots.

Idia.exe has crashed. Please reboot and try again.

Seriously. He opened the door expecting Ortho with his monthly snack restock - just to get ambushed! You can’t just pop into a guys safe space without warning!

Aka. Ortho indeed came back with his delivery + 1.

Knowing Idia and his tendency to self-sabotage….yeah, it’s best not to breathe a word about the holiday in advance. He’s not exactly prying for information on ‘our-earth’…well, aside from our tech and a bit on your personal lore. Everything else is on a need-to-know basis.

Considering Ortho brought back a signed card and a few extra bags of gummy worms than he ordered? Now is definitely part of the ‘need-to-know’. Sparing his crap attack by not dropping in personally just causes more anxiety - because is it obligatory? Is it romantic? Does he want it to be romantic?

Ofcoursehedoesbutthatsopeningapandorasboxthatheisntemotionallyreadytoconfront

Holy shit you got his favorite brand and - did he ever tell you that? Have you been watching him like he’s been -

Oh man. Oh man. This is way too much for something he can’t even research - and now he’s gotta get you something back, right? He knows exactly what you’d want but ew why would you want a Valentines gift from someone like him. He can get Ortho to grill you, right? Right. But it can’t be too obvious and he needs to say thank you but can he just send a text or is that lame?

Expect Ortho to drop off a gift-card for one of the systems Idia gave you back in CH.6…and a bag of candied pomegranates. Some sugar coated, some covered in dark chocolate. Definitely higher quality than anything you could afford.

You mention the holiday when discussing the opportune market back in ‘our-world’. Azul does have a nasty habit of making everything about work - even if you’re just stopping by for a spot of tea. Unheard of by any other student.

Alas. Holidays are a great chance for promotions. You’ve seen festivals and the like in Twisted Wonderland - but there are some tips and tricks to contribute. Like how western culture has totally whipped consumerism in gear with a holiday tacking a price tag on love and affection

Whether you buy into Valentines Day or not - Azul does not forget, and tries to establish a bit of a promotion at the Lounge. Hard to do in a school with nearly 100% male population…but he does manage, there are many forms of love other than romantic. It’s also easy to prey on lonely shmucks feeling down on their luck -

*sigh*

Despite remembering the day and campaigning for it - Azul isn’t prepared to receive a present. Not one without strings attached. It’s nothing much. A singular piece of rich, creamy cheesecake, wrapped in a neat little box with his name scrawled on a gift tag. Just enough to indulge but not tempt him to gorge. The perfect sweetness for someone like him to kick back at his desk and enjoy a brief respite.

Has consistently inviting you over for tea finally worked? All those nights of meticulously planning, trying to gather notions and novels while not overbearing you…like fishing. Carefully reeling in and letting loose until you willingly came to him

…no. He mustn’t assume. He will not. This could be obligatory, friendship….familial? No. Certainly not yet.

For all his predatory behavior on those lovesick ‘shmucks�� - Azul enjoys that piece of cheesecake with a bit more gusto than he’d let on. On White Day, do accept a ‘traditional’ assortment of cookies and chocolates, alongside a private dinner reservation.

Oh sweetheart, he’s already way ahead of you. This sunshine never forgets a single holiday. Any chance to celebrate is always taken. He was the first to ever inquire about what parties and events people in ‘our-world’ follow, or at least the ones you do.

Kalim likely picked out gifts in advance - some for his friends, his dorm-mates, a special thank you for Jamil…

And you, of course. The main focus of Valentines is romance, eh? You think he’s going to let that chance slip through his fingers? Especially if you’ve never gotten anything for Valentines before. You’ll be setting off to go track him down, just to find him carrying a teetering stack of boxes up to Ramshackle. Grim’s already drooling.

Part of him wanted to make something with his own two hands. Yet with limited experience in the kitchen, his options were small. He also didn’t want to frustrate Jamil by making a mess…but isn’t the point of this holiday to make one’s feelings clear?

Enlisting help also wouldn’t do. He had to do something on his own. Kalim can buy you the world, but some things need to be done with a man’s own two hands.

Inside the smallest box on the very top is a paper elephant that Kalim folded himself. It’s nothing extravagant, but he’s done crafts with his siblings before. Rather than toll away in the kitchen to come up with something near inedible, Kalim wanted to do something with his skills. Something fun and unique. You can fold it down too, so it can be stored away somewhere safe.

The sight’s a bit intimidating, especially with your small bouquet of yellow and roses, partnered with a few sprigs of baby’s breath. Yet Kalim looks so pleased to bring you his gifts, it’s hard to feel anything but happiness. Especially when he takes one look at the flowers and near bounces to the clouds.

Sure, you might’ve given little gifts to your friends but no one else has flowers. You thought of him first!

Does that mean he’s special? He sure hopes so. Part of him wishes he got you more gifts, but he had to stop somewhere. Otherwise you’d feel overwhelmed…

Guess you’ll both have to do something for each other on White Day though, huh? A banquet for two sounds perfect to his ears.

Ruggie's easy to please. If it's free, he'll take it. You could have offered up the last soda in your fridge, and he would have took it without a second thought.

Problem is - nothing's 'free'. He knows you're not like that - the cunning type (like him) - at least when it comes to abusing others for personal gain. Socially, to be clear. Aka. You know the struggle of scraping coins together to get by, so he's 99.98% sure you're not one to toss a gift his way just 'cause you don't want it anymore. You're also not abundant in resources - so you wouldn't use money to butter him up like Leona does. Maybe a bit of pulling the heart-strings (which regrettably works, not that he'll ever admit it).

Which is why he's doing a lil' mental rodeo when presented with heart-shaped cream donuts. Not the cheap kind either. The good ones. Glazed with cholate, stuffed with vanilla custard, and a dollop of whipped cream on top with a cherry. He won't look a gift horse in the mouth, and takes the basket like you're handing over gold.

For something this good, you've gotta have a good reason. It's not his birthday. Not a holiday he knows about. He hasn't helped you out at all either - at least, nothing out of the ordinary. He'd be super suspicious if this was literally anyone else.

Let's just completely bypass the heart-shape and nervousness bleeding out as you hand the goods over. Ruggie knows better than to hope for a good thing.

He just chalks it up to you spending too much time picking up baking tricks with Trey - ya do hang around Heartslabyul a lot. Ruggie's admit to enjoying a good donut - maybe you were using him as a test dummy for a recipe? Yeah. That's it. He won't get ahead of himself. He'll totally be chowing down on these later, and stuffs the box away for safe keeps (Savanaclaw bros will eat anything).

When he's in the clear? Happily downing his spoils in the sanctity of his dorm, chilling by the waterfall in the lounge? Jack pops in,, spots the donuts, recognizes the wrapping, and comments that they're different from what everyone else got.

and thus - Ruggie learns about Valentines day...and recounts the encounter with a new perspective.

Ruggie acts nonchalant about it. He was already savoring the donuts, but now he's eating slower. Reallllly thinking it over....he's not dumb, y'know.

You might have slipped by him this time, and as a bit of payback he'll reign himself in. It'll be fun watching ya stumble here and there for a bit - knowing he's got the 'good thing' guaranteed.

For White Day? Expect the tables to turn with a pack of sugar cookies - what? They're quick, simple, and sweet. Oh, and they're shaped like hearts too. Familiar? Take that as ya will, shishishi~

Well-informed about Valentines Day. Grim would not shut up about it for an entire week with all his whining and bemoaning about being surrounded by candy that he couldn't eat. Not if he wanted to keep living in Ramshackle.

Deuce thinks it's admirable that you prepare gifts for everyone. Group mentality, y'know? Making sure no one gets left out...even the people who don't deserve that kindness. It's no wonder you're a prefect, even if it was by default.

Yup. Somehow the holiday inspires him. Deuce is invested and supportive. He offers to keep Grim on lockdown at Heartslabyul if you really want to protect all the goodies. Just in case of sticky paws.

Also? Deuce will do anything to make you feel a bit more at home. Seeing you so excited to celebrate something from your world, especially after adhering to Wonderland's festivals (starsending, harveston sledathon, cloudcalling etc) - well, it would be shitty of him not to be supportive. Do you want help passing out gifts? You helped him collect wishes when he was a stargazer, it's only fair.

Imagine when the day comes and everyone's received their little baggie of treats - Deuce is left with one short. He made sure that everyone got their share first, and was happy to have helped despite being disappointed that he was one-short. He thinks you've miscounted and it was on accident. Not for a moment does Deuce think you would intentionally forget him.

Which is exactly why he doesn't say a word. Seeing you happy an being a part of your holiday is more than enough for Deuce. It's corny, but your smile is his present. He'd rather swipe some of Ace's and fib than make you feel bad for miscounting.

Except you didn't miscount. When Deuce heads back to his dorm for the night, he opens his bag to see a surprise slipped inside the outer pocket.

There's a small card, explaining that it felt unfair for everyone to get a surprise but him. Expressing gratitude for his support - both for helping celebrate Valentines and as a friend. Also that his gift was 'special,' and you wanted to spare him the awkwardness of receiving it in front of everyone.

He wonders what kind of 'special' you mean. Deuce pulls out a box of creme filled chocolate eggs. While the bags he passed out earlier were all exactly the same in quality and size - this gift was different.

Different. Special. Cute. Thoughtful. Romantic? If his gift was 'special' compared to everyone else's....

His roommates find Deuce passed out in an emotional sugar coma on the ground. No one moves him. Ace gives you crap for 'running juice-y ragged' the next day and gets pummeled for it.

Deuce tries time and time again to see if your gift meant more...but ultimately fails. His seniors can't watch him flounder anymore, and on White Day he steels his courage. Ready for battle, Deuce offers a bouquet of wild flowers and heartfelt sentiment.

Impressing Leona is both the simplest and most daunting task. What can you give a man who can purchase anything he wants on his own?

Wholesome Sincerity.

Leona acts uninterested when discussing your world - and for the most part? It's not feigned. He grows curious when politics, sports, world progression (research, etc), and how function without magic works. Good examples could be American Football and Rugby - which play similar to Spelldrive and pique his tactical mind. Also diplomatic relations between our countries, the use of differing energy sources other than magic, etc. The stuff a prince who wants to improve his homeland would want information on.

He does not care about celebrity fads or a famous gorilla named Harmbe.

Using this logic, you'd assume he wouldn't want to hear about a commercialized holiday like Valentines Day...right?

Partially correct.

No, he does not care about capitalism preying on sweethearts and monetizing love. Waste of his brain space. What Leona does care about is your investment in the holiday. Just like how he'll have one ear tuned in during those rare moments you let information about your life before Night Raven slip out.

You don't breathe a word about celebrating the holiday to him, but Leona expects a gift. Cocky, sure. He just knows ya too well, sue him. Even though you don't mention giving presents out, you bring up the holiday one too many times when chatting with others in his vicinity. Unlike the fresh meat, he doesn't need to be told straight out when cogs are turning in your head.

So he's plays the quiet game all day. He won't seek you out, but he'll hang around spots you know to find him at. Ruggie pops in during lunch with a wrapped baggie of sweets in one hand and lo-behold, Leona was right. You were giving gifts out like the good herbivore he knew you were. A few look arounds while walking on campus show the same goody bag in roughly every 10th student walking around. All in freshman year, all you likely see in class. With the exception of more obvious relations such as the...eugh...Leech Twins. It's hard not to know Floyd got something with his loud mouth and taunts.

All the same. Obligatory, he notes.

Leona spends longer than usual lazing in his dorm's lounge that night, resting with his eyes closed and lazing on one of the open rocks. A singular perked ear gives him away though, and it twitches when familiar footsteps approach.

Just as planned, you're leaning over him with that sickeningly earnest grin. All to eager to hand over one of those little bags of chocolate he's seen -

Except you set a large, heavy box on his stomach, and he can't maintain his indifference when faced with something....well, definitely not obligatory. An idiot would think this is obligatory.

Ceramic Sunflowers. Exactly six of them in a small white vase. The paint job is shoddy and honestly Savanaclaw is not a place to keep fragile items. He kind of wants to, since the only place you could get a kiln for this is the Gargoyle Studies Club...the thought of that lizard showing you how to carve clay taints the gift just a tad.

Except it's entirely novel all the same, and the hidden meaning is blatantly obvious too. Sickeningly sweet, he might lose a fang. Giving a gift like this to someone like him...with that poorly hidden affection.

He prepared a return gift in expectation for your chocolates. He's a jerk but wouldn't put down your holiday...but before that, he'll ask straight out of this is romantic or platonic. No mercy.

If romantic? Well, he'll waste no time meeting your sweetness with a kiss, clasping a colorfully beaded necklace around your neck in the moment.

Tradition is meant to be honored! Just because you are no longer in your world, does not mean you can shirk your civic responsibilities!

It takes some effort to explain that Valentines is an optional holiday. That it is not celebrated in every country in your world, and that most people do not partake at all. No holiday is mandatory, although some are more widely advertised than others. The meaning behind those days changes by the person.

You can try using Malleus' birthday as an example - it's a big day in Briar Valley after all. It won't work, since Sebek thinks it should be celebrated worldwide and anyone from Briar Valley not doing so should be considered treasonous.

Regardless if you enjoy Valentines or not - Sebek will remember the day (as well as others you mention, and any traditions that you may consider important). He wants you to celebrate, and already told his liege. Malleus was all too eager to hear a bit of your past and is going to send a card. Are you going to not return his good grace?! That's unthinkable - you will celebrate and that is that.

It's important to note that Sebek honed in on the familial and friendship aspects of Valentines. Aka he heard about a chance to revere the people he cares about and went with it. He did not ignore the romance part. In fact, it wavered him enough for his thoughts to roam a brief moment. Then he forcibly snapped himself out of it, and returned to lecturing you about upholding tradition....

He doesn't intrude upon your home - isn't it expected for the giver to prepare their gifts alone? That is what gives the present meaning.

On Valentines day, he presents Malleus and Lilia with presents. Silver too...begrudgingly. Also small candies for his 'friends' since Lilia said it would be against the day's law to forgo them for his ego. Malleus gets the most though, since he is whom Sebek admires above all. Fair warning.

He is pleased to see that you've given out presents to the others as well. Proud, even. It is important to remember your roots and he is pleased to have played a part.

Which is exactly why Sebek proudly boasts a gift for you. It's not the small candies the others received, nor the lavish sweets given to Malleus. As per tradition, Sebek presents you with a heart-shaped box of mixed truffles. He does it in front of everyone else too...very loudly...and despite his insistence that your gift is different since you're a close friend to Malleus? That bright red blush creeping out of Sebek's collar says otherwise.

Emotions and admiration are not something to be hidden. Repressed? Perhaps, but not hidden.

So you give him his gift in turn. Somehow his heart pounds just as hard for your box of chocolates as it did for Malleus' card. He takes it with the stiffest movements you've ever seen, jerking like a toy doll. As if anything beyond a curt 'thank you, human' will cause him to combust

That's because it will. Just saying.

....oho?

Ah. What a precious holiday. Truly.

Lilia is always looking for ways to spice up life. Compliance and predictability are good - but do you know what's better? Fun. Sometimes it’s best to just ‘go with the flow’ as people say.

Your flow always has something exciting in it's path - but so rare does it involve lighthearted joys such as as sweets and love. What a nice change of pace, and novel too! Lilia can't help but grow curious when you tell his about Valentines. A baby that flies through the air and shoots people with arrows? Clad in a diaper? Don’t give him ideas. Maybe TWST could use a bat Cupid…

He’s eager when you invite him and his boys to a party. Malleus is overjoyed to have an invitation to Ramshackle, Sebek goes whereever Malleus does, and Silver wouldn't make light of an invite from a friend. You must be excited to host as well, no? Can he help at all?

He almost refrains from pulling mischief. Almost. In Lilia's defense, his intentions were pure. You wanted to share a bit of love with the people you cared about, no? It would be negligent for him not to do the same!

So….he prepares a special batch of brownies to the potluck. Made with the eggshells included for a crunch! And what’s love without a little spice? He added extra hot sauce for a kick. He just knows it will be a hit!

It was a ‘hit’ alright….you hadn’t the heart to tell him no, and Silver had no time to swap out Lilia’s batch for a palatable option. His brownies sat mostly untouched on the table for the entire party. He tried to steer some unfortunate souls friends towards them, but somehow they never met their mark. Cater tripped and dropped his on the floor. Kalim was a bit quick to add that he needs his food tested, and Jamil was always preoccupied somewhere out of sight. Grim wolfed one down but disappeared before Lilia could ask how it tasted.

At some point half the platter did go missing….Silver said that it was so good, he was the one to eat them. Well, he’s still growing. Lilia doesn’t mind but he should have saved some for everyone! This is a day meant to spread joy and love after all.

Luckily Lilia prepared. To be safe, he’d made an extra batch. One he intended just for you. He made this one extra sweet with roughly chopped coffee beans inside. The strong kind that can keep a horse for three days straight! With the most “satisfying” texture! He knew soldiers that would crunch these bad boys whole during the war, and you do have much on your plate these days. He cut them into hearts as well. Someone name a better use for his blade skills? He’ll wait.

So he leaves the party early, intent to let his boys have their fun and return later on in the evening. That night a tiny bat carrying such a heavy package zips through the kitchen window, nearly scaring the plates out of your hands.

Now. On one hand, you’re happy he’s returned. He left so sudden and you wanted more time together.

On the other?….it’s doomsday once you see that tray of brownies. Lilia is proud when he describes all the ‘beneficial’ ingredients and why he chose them just for you. It would make your heart throb if not for the fear twisting knots in your gut.

Lilia wiggles the platter just by your face, his impish grin pressing his cheeks plump. Only to be rendered stupefied when you pull out a plate of chocolate strawberries from the fridge.

These weren’t on the menu earlier. He’d recall such a cute assortment. The berries are all dipped in fun toppings as well - akin to a sweet Russian roulette packed with unexpected combinations. It seems you were more than saddened that he left early…his invitation extended past the pretense of a friendly party. The blush on your cheeks says as much.

As does a brownie from his earlier tray. You seemed to snag one, not wanting to eat it during the party aka wanting to have it when your stomach could perish in peace

While Lilia hadn’t been amiss to these developments in both your heart and his….well, he hadn’t expected a personal present. Perhaps some joking flirtations, but you were a sweet thing. Much more than he could expect, and Fae never take on matters of the heart with mirth.

This was your holiday, no? Just because it dabbles in amour does not mean you would intend to pursue a cheeky thing like himself….alas, he’s too cute to resist and so are you. Give him a moment to process and expect the party to truly begin

What are you waiting for? Have a brownie <3

Head of the ‘Gimmie Gimmie Brigade’. Ace isn’t invested, but he’s also not disinterested. Valentines seems like something people over at Royal Sword Academy would buy into. From the way you’re talking about it - a holiday meant to celebrate lovers and all the amorous things in life is way too goody-goody for Night Raven.

No one here’s happy enough to buy into that. Wait - no, scratch that. They’re all miserable but with a bit of tweaking it could have some merit. Thing is that people here are way too invested in themselves to ever pull a gift exchange or be open about their *gag* feelings

Of course, Ace only aims to shut you down when it comes to spreading the love with campus. You want to keep it within Heartslabyul? Better yet, just between the two of you? He’s all for it. We all know he’s just talking it down to look cool. This is his plan from the get-go.

Hey. Think you guys could get a holiday excuse from class? Is this a religious thing? No? Damn. Can you lie and say it is?

Ace knows you’ll go out of your way to make something for everyone - if ya do it at all. Which is likely since once an idea gets set into that skull of yours, Ace knows it’s better to just ride the coaster than try to hop off…

For a holiday meant for lovers, you’re sure dense. Has he told you that you’re a Dummy yet? Yeah? Well he’s going to say it about every other hour, because you’re completely missing his signals. It has to be on purpose. He is absolutely sure that you’re screwing with him, making candy for all these other dudes.

For all his complaining, Ace isn’t going to let anyone ruin your holiday spirit. His protective side comes out and Ace is right there doing the delivery route too. He’ll hand over the candy on your behalf to anyone that even looks like they’ll give a bit of lip. A bit more harsh than necessary too, with his little challenging squint. Again. He seriously thinks you should’ve kept this to Heartslabyul and maybe your close friends…other dorms don’t deserve it.

He also makes a point to enforce that it is obligatory chocolate, given as a gesture of good will as a new Ramshackle Holiday. So no one gets any funny ideas…chk. Dream logged bastards.

As part of the gimmie gimmie parade, he expects a gift of his own. Ace makes sure to snag one (or three) of the candy bags while you guys walk around….and for his leg work? He wants to sleep over. So you better give him the bed. He takes your easy compliance as a won victory, and sticks his tongue out to Deuce while packing his bag cause it’s ‘helpers only’ night.

On one hand? Bro is happy the day is done with. It was good giving a bit back and seeing you so happy. Although he will once again say that you shouldn’t have given chocolate to so many guys - just to really grill it in there before bed

Speaking of the bed? It’s so nice. Much better than a stuffy dorm with three other guys…that is, until you rip the sheets out from under him and send Ace’s ass to the floor. He’s this close to doing the same. His hand’s reaching over the bedside with malicious intent, but your head pops over the ledge and points to the clock

11:58pm - the day’s almost done, and you’ve got a last surprise for him. Tadaaaa! Cherry cordial chocolates. Just for Ace. Did you really have to push him out of bed for it? No, but he was a whiney jerk all day so you felt it was right.

Ace is peeved. Not enough to yank you down anymore, but he takes the entire box of candy and starts to eat them all in one-go so you can’t have any. They’re his, yeah? Special jussssst for him? Maybe this isn’t a bad holiday after all…so long as you don’t do anything special for another guy.

For all your ‘good will’…he’ll be happy to drag you along to an ice-cream parlor on White Day. With a bit of wordplay, getting the day placed as mandatory activity is a breeze.

The only way to catch Malleus by surprise is when he’s most vulnerable. Aka…morning hours. Surely he lets his guard down more when it is just you and him, but there’s still decorum. There is still calculation. There is still a working braincell in his head.

And oh do you wish to surprise him. Just once in this lifetime. He loves hearing stories about your world and sharing thoughts. You couldn’t spend the winter holiday together. Everyone left campus and so you partied with Grim and the ghosts….but now there is a chance to give Malleus a cultural experience!

Which means you will need to enlist help. Insert Vanrouge, who unceremoniously hints that the dear Ramshackle Prefect is freezing their tukus off in a dorm with only a hearth to heat the building.

Hook. Oh, woe is the prefect. Humans can get sick from the cold and even die from hypothermia.

Line. Despite the fire fairies working hard to maintain NRC’s temperature during the cold months, Ramshackle is still on the tail end of their list. Other dorms take precedent due to their population.

Sinker. The poor prefect, all alone in that large building. They toughed out the winter but there’s supposed to be an unexpected ice storm this weekend! Possibly the biggest that the Isle has seen in years! Hopefully they stocked up on firewood and safety gear.

And thus, an invitation was extended.

Malleus is hardly one to insist, then again he’s rarely denied. Yet your body is a temple and he would love to have you as a guest. Better yet, transfer to Diasomnia? No? Okay. Guest will do. You can even stay in the room next to his. It’s been empty since his enrollment, and he will personally see to your safety.

Little does he know that there will be no ice storm, you are as fit as a fiddle, and Lilia will do anything to give Malleus a fun surprise.

Truth be told - Malleus thought you were a bit quiet. Mayhaps secretive. At first he thought you felt intimidated by his dormitory, and it saddened him so. He did lay the invitation on thick but it was for your safety! You wouldn’t let anyone carry your bags, not even when he offered to teleport them to your quarters.

While you chat the first night away, sipping tea and enjoying each other’s company in the lounge…a rare evening for him indeed. He quite likes the sight of you in Diasomnia with him. Regardless, Malleus goes to bed with a disquieted heart. He hopes you like it here, and that he won’t feel off-put when it is time for you to go home. Malleus remembers how he felt when you disappeared to the Isle of Woe. It was unpleasant to say the least.

Unsuspecting and a bit miffed from missed sleep - Malleus wakes the next day with an unceremonious stretch and yawn. He’s about to get ready for the day when there’s a loud string of crashes and thuds from the next room. Needless to say, he forgoes to even put on his slippers before teleporting over.

….

Concern is definitely a word that describes one of the various emotions going on. Bewildered is another. Also something else - lacking definitim and unfamiliar. It teeters somewhere on the cusp between good and bad. A weird, twisted fondness that he’s only felt in your presence on occasion.

You stacked a chair on top of the dresser, trying to hang paper streamers of hearts and snowflakes across the ceiling. Grim was hissing curses while trying to lift said dresser off you, because the whole thing came crashing down in the process.

Along with the curtains. The rod barely clung to the window, with one end hanging in the air. A splatter of melted icecream cake streamed down the wall and onto the floor. It left stark streak of red against Diasomnia’s brick

Your expression - utterly horrified. He can ascertain that without any hints. Not with fear but just complete mortification. Malleus has no idea what’s going on, but it’s so ridiculous that he’s biting down laughter while levitating the dresser back to it’s normal state. His brain was lagging behind just -

What lets him loose is the little ‘surprise?’ you squeak once freed - which is is nothing but a grasp at straws as you try and fail to salvage the wall cake. By the time Lilia comes to check on your ‘progress,’ he finds Malleus laughing harder then ever.

All this just to surprise him? Oh. Please tell him the entire story from idea to execution. People go to extreme lengths for Malleus all the time, but this is just something so entirely….hm. That feeling isn’t going away. It seems all he needs to do is think about your clumsy efforts and it comes around again.

This is a gift in itself. He must know how to reciprocate appropriately, so what do you wish for this ‘White Day’? He hasn’t been this excited to gift something in quite some time.

Special Mention : Grim!!

This little shit.

This smug little shit.

Grim thinks he’s sooooooo smart. Doesn’t matter who you’re making treats for - he’s claiming tax on every bag. It’s a one for you, one for me scenario.

Every batch of chocolate prepared comes with that forsaken paw stretching up past the counter, the ‘gimmie’ motion is getting old. He needs new tricks or else you’ll swat him with the rolling pin next.

Valentines day? That’s another human holiday, huh? He ain’t heard of it….but if it’s important to you, then he’ll bite. It helps that he gets free food out of it.

And tuna. Lots of tuna. Grim doesn’t want to see you give ANYONE else a gift that’s bigger than his. They don’t deserve it. None of them do. Maybe Ace and Deuce….and Jack, but that’s it. Even if they get somethin’ big, Grim’s should be better

Which is exactly why by the time Valentines day comes, he’s on his ‘nth’ can of tuna and you physically have to take privilege away before your pockets go dry.

Why’s it like this? Because you’re his henchman. You shouldn’t love anyone else more than you love him. You’re a team.

He sees you give the ghosts chocolate and tries to swipe it. They can’t even eat the stuff! Why bother?

Thus, Grim gets his little but chased out of the kitchen…and the dorm…and all the other dorms since he’s tailing your delivery runs

Grim doesn’t care too much about the meaning behind Valentines day. Yet no one getting your candy better be ungrateful, or expect anythin’ more than obligatory gifts. He has claws and will use them. He ain’t known his ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ too well before NRC…but these guys better use it or they’re getting fried tooshie instead of sweet nothings.

And at the end of the day? He doesn’t have much to offer ya in return, but there’s a stack of ‘favor’ coupons smacked over your head right before bed. Isn’t a big stack, since Grim can only tame himself so much…but they’re exchangeable for good kitty behavior! There’s one for uninterrupted studying, one to have the bed to yourself for a night, one for a free delivery, and a few chore coupons. His handwriting is hard to read, but you assume Riddle helped with the arrangement from the nice stationary and perfect spelling.

Don’t go using them all at once either!…by the time he’s done bashfully giving you his ‘perfect’ gift, Grim’s already curled up next to you and passed out cold. It’s a food coma for the books.

[fleuriion]

✦ General & Random Headcanons ノ Random hcs and little things that came up to my mind when it comes to them! ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ featuring moze, mydei, dr ratio. ⸝⸝ wc: 1,196 ✦ Note ; the usual "beware of horrible grammar with spelling mistakes because English isn't my first language" ⸝⸝ might be ooc because I've only started writing about hsr characters in general just now ⸝⸝

♡ Moze

⸝⸝ Imagine a cat lover Moze who always yet discreetly tries to pet a kitty when he was lurking at the street but the cats always end up running away because of his scary aura (Jiaoqiu never lets him off the hook when he found out about this.) ⸝⸝ Secretly really likes and collects those tiny adorable plushies that resemble cats. He keeps them sitting near his pillow on the rare occasion where Moze does take a rest out of fatigue. ⸝⸝ Canonically enjoys cleaning and couldn't stand even the smallest of smallest dirt in his presence ever. Wherever he lives or resides in, it's super clean that you can see the light from the lamp on the ceiling being reflected by the floor. His place is super tidy and neat too! Things are placed where they're supposed to place. ⸝⸝ Following the third point, I see him using at least 20 shampoo and/or conditioners in a single shower to ensure his hygiene. Once his work is over, Moze would spare at least an hour and it's all for bath and his hygiene. In the case where he did finish earlier, Moze would use those time to ensure his place is still as clean and tidy as it was before leaving again. ⸝⸝ HATES drinking/consuming medicine due to his past. Due to this, Moze keeps and make sure he's always healthy. (His sleep schedule might be unhealthy though) ⸝⸝ Moze would follow you around from behind to ensure your safety. I know, it sounds a little bit creepy and weird from an objective standpoint, but he's doing that to ensure your safety! Really! ⸝⸝ Say goodbye to giving him surprise hugs from behind on the contrary. Moze's sharp and keen senses can always detect your presence miles away before you even acknowledge his near you. You can unfortunately rarely if not never catch this man off guard. ⸝⸝ Would leave you small gifts with notes on them. Stuff such as a bouquet of flower, or something that reminds him of you ⸝⸝ Moze is so underrated and adorable I love him <3 ♡ Mydei

⸝⸝ Do you think Mydei could braid hair well? I've been staring at his drip marketing for a while now and it makes me think about how he braids that little part of his hair. So yes! Would braid your hair if you ask him to as long as you two are not under the peering eyes of the public.

⸝⸝ VERY discipline and strict about especially his training, and being the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos strengthened this. Mydei would wake up early every morning to train and train.

⸝⸝ Headcanon that comes off very personally that Mydei is actually pretty good at playing chess, he just doesn't show it off all the time because he thinks it's not all that necessary. Mydei grew up in a region/nation that's all about basically war and tech that revolves around them (cmiiw.) Due to this, he pretty much has a strong sense of the strategization needed in chess.

⸝⸝ Dry texter. Like super dry that it's actually funny. Mydei doesn't see the need to use things like emojis and stickers because as long as it gets his messages across then it works for him.

⸝⸝ Good with kids. Mydei canonically had willingly trained a kid in Okhema. He's those typical gruff who's an enormous softie deep inside, except he just struggles or even sees it as vulnerable to express it.

⸝⸝ I could see him as those healthy mama's boys. Mydei had often gotten compliments about his looks, but utter out something like "I bet your mother is sooo pretty for her son to look like this" and he will melt in your arms.

⸝⸝ Has one of those punchable yet cute smug-ish grin. When Mydei managed to for instance get under your skin, he will have that stupid grin on his face that makes you want to punch him, except he also has enough of the charm to not make you want to punch him. (Not like you can anyway man's a beast)

⸝⸝ Probably has a sweet tooth. On a particularly hard day, Mydei will indulge in himself by having a bite from Golden Honeycake, or have a drink of Pomegranate Juice with milk. (Gosh love this man <3) ⸝⸝ Likes chaste kisses. The prince will never say it out loud to your face, but when he wants a small peck on your lips or just wants to be held by you in general, he will subconsciously glance at you and let his eyes linger a little longer on you, be it on the lips, or stare your eyes out. Give him a short small kiss on his lips, and the warrior succumb into your arms.

♡ Dr. Ratio

⸝⸝ Elegant yet horrible looking handwriting. By horrible, I mean they look like those ancient scripts that needed to be translated in order to be read. By short, we call it "Doctor's Handwriting" lmao.

⸝⸝ I like to think he does skin care as a routine. Be it due to his value of hygiene, or even irritable skin. He has a 20 step routine skin care I just know it (source: trust me bro)

⸝⸝ Also another one of a strict and disciplined scholar. Ratio wakes up every morning early to workout and maintain his healthy physique. He never leaves without tucking you properly and sneaking in a small kiss on the forehead however!

⸝⸝ No doubt will invite you over to bath with him. Not in any sexual way, just a cozy escape after both of your own rough and tiring day. Ratio will gladly help you scrub your back in the most gentle way possible. The two of you would end it by him reading a book in the bed while holding you close to his figure <33

⸝⸝ Ratio is a busy man and tend to leave early, but will leave notes at certain places for you (ex. on the fridge in the morning)

⸝⸝ Don't know about you, but Ratio personally doesn't say anything much about your relationship. But, he doesn't deny it either when asked. Once given the opportunity, will subconsciously ramble on about how he's graced with your presence and as your lover.

⸝⸝ Has a habit of eating fruits because he both wants to and keeps himself healthy. Expect the fridge to always have a space for some fruits in there for him to eat.

⸝⸝ Encourages you and makes sure you do eat healthy, following up from the point above. Ratio will remind you when to eat and stop you from work to make sure you remember to take a break. (I also love this man)

[khrystalsnow]

January 2025 FanFic✨

Welcome Everyone! It's been a long time since I've posted anything on Tumblr and for this year, I wanted to start posting more fanfic recommendations to share my love for the authors, instead of being in the shadows and for more people to enjoy them. I will try to post every month the fanfics that I've read (which hopefully I stick by 🤞🏼) but for January, I have mostly Jungkook fanfics so hopefully you enjoy the list and have found something you also love❤️

The majority of fics are 18+ so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Legend:

🦷-fluff

🔥-angst

🌶️-smut

👅-crack/funny

❣️-personal favourite

✍🏼-ongoing

JUNGKOOK

The Corporate Equation by @someonegoood 🦷🔥❣️✍🏼

-this is in a corporate setting with jungkook as the CEO and y/n as the head of HR. Grumpy x sunshine trope, but really cute because we get to see jungkook slowly but surely softening up to y/n no matter how hard they try to deny it🤭

Neighbor Blunder by @awrkive 🦷🔥🌶️❣️✍🏼

-now listen to me, this is really good😭 I really love the dynamic between oc and Jungkook especially now with the new update👀 He's a gentleman, he doesn't beat around the bushes and sets his intentions straight to oc. I'm really excited about what happens next and will be lurking on AO3 for new updates because I cannot wait

ctrl+alt+delete by @muniimyg 🦷🔥🌶️👅

-obviously, I need to add in a social media au because they are really quick to read and this one is no exception. OC is an OF content creator and jungkook is a youtuber. Both of them are really funny and the interactions with their fans are really cute as well!

Playing the Part by @goldenchimmy 🌶️

-this was really good! it was such a nice build-up to the smut scene which is just perfection. Jungkook's such a gentleman and I need more of him please😭

True Love by @lovieku 🦷🔥🌶️

-this was really cute because OC's a simp for Jungkook and I would be too. It was also so heartwarming that they were able to find comfort within each other when OC would get panic attacks and show each other acts of love

The Love Prognosis by @awrkive 🦷🔥🌶️❣️

-A fan favourite of course 🫶🏻 I related to this a lot (the unrequited love part😶) and just being there for the person you love even if they're not with you, but will ultimately hurt Jungkook in the process. highly recommend it if you haven't read this and the drabbles because they are also extremely fun to read!

Teach Me How To Love by @kookooluvr 🦷🔥🌶️✍🏼❣️

-Another fan favourite because it's just THAT good. everything's going good at the current update of them going to Jeju but I'm ready for the angst that's about to commence😭 Ultimately, I just want Jungkook to finally have his girl fr

The Farmhouse by @solecize 🦷🔥

-the plot was something different from the fics that I usually gravitate to in January. this is a friends to lovers, set in a small town where OC is restoring her grandpa's farm and she reunites with her childhood friend. I love every little aspect of this fic because it deals with grief, growing up, and love. I love the subtleness of Jungkook's love for OC in the beginning where he helps her out in the farm, but it slowly grows toward the end, this is just such a wholesome read!

YOONGI

Love & Lullabies by @ktownshizzle 🦷🔥🌶️

-DILF yoongi because it needs its own warninggg. this was also a really cute and heartwarming read. in every part I read, their love for each other just grows and grows. give this fic some love because you won't regret it!

NAMJOON

Empty Box by @moni-logues 🔥🌶️

-I had hope for the ending but alas this fic does not have a happy ending 🥹 this fic does contain infidelity which I would typically stay away from but I gave it a chance and wow. the writing is really beautiful and rich, you can feel the pain both Namjoon and OC go through throughout their journey which leaves you feeling like you've also gone through the waves of their relationship. The plot feels realistic which makes it 10 times more painful

SHORT FICS

satellite by @httpknjoon 🦷🔥

: Your friend, Jungkook, offers to help you while you review for your human anatomy exam.

Petals and Fists by @kissyforkoo 🦷🔥

: boxer!jk x florist!oc

[erinwantstowrite]

do you like tim joins the batfamily early or late better?

i love a good early fic. i have my own ideas for a few different ones i want to write someday, and i read them a lot. my favorite is "The Lone Ranger Never Had to Deal With Bruce Wayne", it's super fun. but i think the late fics are severely underutilized. you could do SO MUCH with this one. did Jason never die? was the timing just off? did Tim's parents start caring about him before he became Robin and had some individuality? did his parents not die? did his parents die before he could become Robin and so he decided to fake having an uncle so he could raise himself? is he running his parents company or did he find someone he trusted to take care of that while he completed his education? what about Tim's friends (that he has fic writers please stop forgetting Tim has friends outside of Robin), are they in on whatever scheme Tim has going? is Tim helping people out without a cape or did he make his own? so many possibilities...

also, i think when you do write a late fic, it should be very recognized how much the family would have changed if Tim wasn't there, especially if the fic doesn't have anyone as Robin (specifically Steph). Bruce would NOT be doing so hot unless someone else stepped in. maybe Dick broke the ice and came back on his own and he's being taking care of Bruce, but it's strained because they're both not big fans on the whole "emotions" thing. if Jason is still alive or he was found before the LoA got him, whatever the case, Bruce would definitely be doing much better. but if Jason still died and Tim (or no one else) came around, I fully believe Batman would have been injured so badly he had to quit, he would have died, or he would have hurt someone

SOOO many possibilities, folks,,,

[starry-bi-sky]

first off -- you posted this 7:35 AM my time and 10 minutes later i woke up so im choosing to believe that the universe saw you made this and decided to shake me awake screaming "GIRLL YOU GOTTA LOOK AT THIS" i am so 💖💖💖💞💖♥️💖💗 over iiiIITT. i love it. i love them. the first video being from the same day as the fight bruce saw is so good. That's such a good tie. Beautiful, poetic. They make me so emotional.

"Who am I if not a blood blossom stan and yapper" 🤝 CHEERS I'LL DRINK TO THAT

im dedicating this to @detectivedarling. i felt inspired after seeing their little ficlet yesterday sadhjfl 🫶

-

Danny's grip on his cane tightens.

"What—"

His voice cracks. He stops, clears it, then tries again in spite of the nausea twisting in his gut. "What are — you, uh, watching, Bruce?" He sounds horribly far away.

Bruce doesn't look at him, his attention laser-focused on the screen. Which is— fine. It's usually not a problem, Bruce gets like that when he hyper-focuses on a case, and unless it's urgent — or he's been at it for hours — Danny sees no need to pull him away from it. He likes the quiet camaraderie they have, it's companionable and unique to the two of them.

He wishes he was right now though. Looking at him, that is.

That way he wasn't watching what was clearly one of Danny's ghost fights. One of the nastier ones, if the collateral damage and rubble on the street is of any indication.

Danny tries to remember which one that is. He shuffles a little closer to the desk, ignoring the rock in his stomach or the ugly weightlessness in his arms. It's not the blood blossoms, that much he knows. He just recently had an injection so it shouldn't be bothering him this soon—

So it's just nerves. Perfect.

Most footage of his fights are— messy, at best. Unusable at worst. Amity Park was obsessed with appearing 'normal' when they first started happening, and typical news stations censor the worst of the fights anyways for publishing, since they can get pretty gory at times. And ghosts move too fast to be caught on regular standard cameras, not including distance and light and—

That is to say— finding usable ghost fight videos is hard.

Danny wonders how Bruce got his hands on this one, and then stops wondering.

The audio is muted, which is - good. Good, because the fight is ugly and chaotic and clearly this was taken on someone's phone. Fuck, he can't remember if he ever saw that before — clearly not. They're hiding behind an overturned car, and Danny grits his teeth so he doesn't tell that idiot to run.

The camera turns up, and focuses on two figures in the air. It takes a few seconds, but when it does, Danny gets hit with a wave of vertigo. His grip tightens and he leans heavily on his cane, he waits for the black dots to disappear.

He- uh, he remembers this fight now. Uh, sort of.

He remembers being twelve at the time, and he remembers some of the injuries he got out of it. His eyelid spasms abruptly. This ghost wasn't one of his regulars, so he doesn't remember whatever name they had, barely remembered what they looked like up until- uh. Now.

Was he always that small? Well— Phantom's never been particularly big, perks of being a dead kid, but— it's - different. Seeing it from an outsider perspective. Was he that small? Or is it just because he's wearing a jumpsuit clearly too big for him that casts the illusion of being small?

Doesn't really - matter. Now. He can't access his ghost form, and he already knows the answers to his appearance.

Phantom is clearly bleeding, viscous and violently green like the bubbles of a lava lamp, clutching onto a limp shoulder that's missing an arm from the elbow down. Half his face is drenched in similar blood, the eye on the drenched side is closed — not because he can't see through the ectoplasm.

Danny's memories of that fight slowly come in a bit clearer. Right. He took a pole to the eye in that one. That had - hurt. A lot. Getting an eye gouged out usually does. It and the missing arm took hours to grow back.

He rubs his eye with his palm for no other reason than it itches.

The other ghost isn't untouched of any injury either, but he's not in a state of dismemberment like Phantom is.

Danny drops his gaze down at Bruce, whose sitting in his chair with his hands threaded together, looking so tense that Danny half expects to meet solid steel if he were to touch his back. His face is - blank. Terribly blank, with an intensity in his eyes that Danny doesn't see often.

He looks terribly distressed.

He opens his mouth, and finds that nothing comes out. His throat is thick with an ugly, tar-like feeling that makes his eyes sting. Kinda reminds him of when someone wraps their hands around your throat and presses. He closes his mouth, then tries again.

"B—" hhhhhh, "Buzz."

Finally Bruce looks at him, one hand slaps the space button on the keyboard, and the video pauses. His expression doesn't shift, but there's a weight in the lines of his face that reminds Danny of a set of weights sagging.

He looks quite like he's grieving something.

Bruce opens his mouth, his voice comes out terribly soft and heartbroken: "He looks like you."

Which is— a terrifying sentence in and of itself. One that makes Danny's legs shake and ignite his ragged, poison-chewed nerves alight with the need to run. An instinctive urge to deny, deny, deny.

How could he? He could say, that's a ghost, Bruce. I'm not a ghost. He could crack a joke, and ask, 'do I look dead to you?' or say something about how he knows that his parents studied ghosts, but that didn't make him one.

He could say that, and he could say it knowing full well that Bruce would see right through it. He'd probably let Danny too.

Danny closes his eyes. They sting, you see? So does his nose, right in the back like someone popped him in the face. And his throat is thick and gross and like someone stuck a spider, the big fat tarantula kind, right down into his esophagus.

He breathes in — through his mouth, because his nose stings and so it'd be best not to irritate it further with air — and it's terribly shaky and uneven. But it clears a pathway to his lungs big enough for him to say — whisper, really:

"You know, I think you're the first person to notice that."