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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 4 days ago

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Solstice Gifts

A/N: Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! 🎄✨ This is a collection of short drabbles of how I imagine ACOTAR men would give the reader a gift during Solstice. I originally planned to write for all the High Lords, but I ran out of time (and ideas). Still, I hope you enjoy this!

Azriel

Being Feyre’s younger sister, you were new to Rhys’s inner circle and Azriel wasn’t sure if you would accept a gift from him, or if it would even be appropriate. So when the time came for exchanging presents, he didn't immediately hand you his.

As a Shadowsinger and a Spymaster, he had observed what you liked and wanted. So when he decided to get you a gift, he let his shadows quietly place it in your room, unwilling to cross that boundary himself.

When you returned that evening, you found it waiting for you, simply wrapped with a small card in his neat handwriting: For you. From Azriel.

The simple words made you smile, warmth blooming in your chest. But your surprise only grew when you unwrapped the gift and found the very thing you’ve been quietly wanting for so long.

Later that night, you made your way to his room, your nerves making you knock so soft you almost hoped he wouldn’t hear it. But his sharp senses caught it anyway, and when he opened the door, his eyes widened slightly in surprise at the sight of you standing there.

You stammered a little before managing to thank him, your cheeks warm. He dipped his head slightly, his voice low as he replied, “I wanted you to have something that mattered, something that you truly wanted.”

On impulse, you stepped onto your toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. You thanked him again, before pulling back and reluctantly walking back to your room.

His heart skipped a beat, shadows curling around his shoulders as he watched you go. Part of him wanted to call after you, to say something to make you stay, but he held back. It wasn’t the right time…not yet.

Cassian

Unlike Azriel, Cassian was anything but subtle. When you joined Rhys’s inner circle, he couldn’t resist flirting with you at every opportunity. Your friendship quickly became filled with playful banter, though you almost always dismissed his shameless remarks with an eye roll or a sharp retort.

On Winter Solstice evening, as everyone exchanged presents, he plopped down beside you on the couch, his thigh pressing comfortably against yours. You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “What do you want?” you asked, half exasperated, half amused.

“I want nothing,” he said, grinning as he handed you a small box. The wrapping was so crumpled it looked as though he’d wrestled it into submission. You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head as you opened it.

Inside was a stunning necklace with a rare gemstone. For a moment, you were speechless. His taste had completely taken you by surprise, you hadn’t thought a warrior like Cassian would pick out something so elegant. “This is…beautiful,” you said softly, unsure of what else to say as you leaned in and wrapped your arms around him in thanks.

When you pulled back, his grin widened, and you knew what was coming even before he opened his mouth. “I thought about how good that stone would look between your breasts and couldn’t resist getting it,” he muttered, his tone dripping with playful mischief.

Your jaw dropped, your face heating as you stared at him, momentarily speechless. Then, you elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “You’re absolutely shameless.” Though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Cassian only laughed, leaning back into the couch with a satisfied smirk. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Rhysand

Rhys whisks you away to the top of the House of Wind, Velaris glittering below you. With a wave of his hand, a small box appears in his grasp. “Go on, open it,” he urges, his violet eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You do as he says, carefully unwrapping the box to reveal a pendant with a tiny glowing star encased within. “Rhys, you shouldn’t have,” you murmur, awe and gratitude flooding your voice.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple before replying with a smirk and a wink. “Oh, that’s nothing…wait till you see what I’ve got planned for you in the bedroom.”

You give him a pointed look before shaking your head. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he quips, his smirk widening. “And I don’t just mean in the bedroom. There are more gifts waiting for you there. Come on, let’s go.” He takes your hand and begins leading you downstairs, his excitement barely contained.

“Rhysss!” you groan, pouting slightly as he tugs you along. “I told you, I don’t need gifts. Having you is enough.”

He pauses mid-step, turning to cup your cheek and pinch it playfully. “I know, darling,” he says softly. “But I can’t help it. I want to shower you with gifts and spoil you like you deserve. After all, you are my greatest gift, and there’s nothing I can do that could ever compare.”

Lucien

Feyre had invited Lucien to this year’s Winter Solstice, and although his duties kept him busy, he had agreed to come, if only for the chance to spend more time with you, his mate. Though you hadn’t accepted the bond yet, you hadn’t rejected it either. This was all new to you, and Lucien had resolved to give you as much time and space as you needed, not wanting to push or make you uncomfortable in the slightest.

He had missed you. It had been months since he last saw you, back in the summer. So when you descended the stairs that evening, his heart drummed wildly in his chest. His amber eye and russet gaze tracked your every step until your eyes met his. You greeted him with a polite nod, and he returned it, the faintest of smiles playing on his lips.

Throughout the evening, he lingered on the edge of the festivities, watching you from afar as the others exchanged gifts, laughed, and drank. Finally, mustering his courage, he approached you, his palms damp with nervousness.

“I came across this during my travels,” he muttered softly, handing you a small package wrapped in elegant paper. “I thought you might like it.” Curiosity piqued, you unwrapped the gift, revealing a vintage wooden box. Inside lay a pair of earrings, their intricate design unlike anything you’d ever seen. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the kind of artistry that carried stories within its details.

When you looked up, you found him watching you intently, his gaze warm but hesitant. “It’s nothing compared to what you deserve,” he murmured in a low tone. “But…it’s from the heart.” A small, almost shy smile curved his lips. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before speaking. “I have a small gift for you too.”

His brows furrowed in confusion as you disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, you returned, holding a single cupcake on a small plate. Handing it to him, you said softly, “I hope you like chocolate. I baked it myself.”

At first, Lucien didn't react. Then realization dawned on his face. “Oh. OH!” His voice rose slightly as the significance of your gesture hit him. “Is this wh- are you aware of what this means in fae tradition?”

You nodded, a faint blush dusting your cheeks.

His breath hitched. “Are you sure?” He searched your gaze for any hesitation. But when you smiled and nodded again, his resolve melted.

Lucien carefully picked up the cupcake, taking a deliberate bite. His eyes closed briefly as he savored it before opening again, now glowing with warmth and joy. “It’s delicious,” he said, his voice dipping slightly as he stressed the word. “Thank you.”

Setting the cupcake aside, he stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “May I?” he whispered.

When you nodded again, he closed the small distance between you, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss so soft and full of longing it stole your breath. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise, a declaration, and the sealing of the bond he had waited so long for.

Eris

Being Rhysand’s sister and Eris being Beron’s son made your relationship…complicated, to say the least. Some days, you couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Other days, the tension simmered so hot it was impossible to think of anything but dragging each other to the nearest bed…or any available surface to fuck.

Eris, of course, would never admit it, not even to himself, but he was in love with you.

On Winter Solstice, he sent an urgent message demanding you meet him halfway between your courts, in a clearing deep in the forest. His tone had been curt, and you’d feared the worst as you rushed to the meeting spot.

When you arrived, he stepped out of the shadows with his usual smirk. Before you could say a word, he tossed something at you. “Catch.”

Instinct kicked in, and you lunged to catch the small package before it hit the ground. Straightening, you narrowed your eyes at him, holding the elaborately wrapped gift in your hands. “This was the ‘urgent’ matter?” Eris shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His gaze flickered to the horizon, refusing to meet yours. “It’s nothing big. Don’t read too much into it. Just…open it.” His voice was smooth, nonchalant, but you could sense the tension beneath it. He stood rooted in place, his head tilted as though he wasn’t watching you, but you could feel the weight of his focus. A part of him feared you’d hate it. Another part clung to the hope that you’d like it, that your eyes would sparkle and you’d smile, that rare, genuine smile he secretly craved.

Slowly, you unwrapped the package. Inside was a bracelet, simple yet elegant, crafted with the kind of skill only found in the Autumn Court. The small fire-red gemstone set into it caught the light like a glowing ember, warm and alive.

And there it was…that flicker of surprise, the soft curve of your lips, the quiet joy in your eyes. He’d found what he was looking for, and it was enough. That moment was his true gift this Solstice.

But when you glance up to thank him, he was already turning away. “Happy Solstice,” he murmured, his voice cool and distant, as though the gift hadn’t taken him weeks to choose.

Before you could respond, he winnowed out, disappearing into the night without a backward glance. Because if he’d stayed, if he’d looked into your eyes again, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stop himself.

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 day ago

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I just found this https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGdk8Quhj/ and it’s so Jason Todd core

Would it be possible for you to write something about this 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻with a plus sized reader 🙏🏻

Thanks so much if you do 🫶🫶🩷✨

When you first started dating Jason he came across as someone who was independent and self reliant, however this illusion is quickly shattered the longer it continues and now you’ve come to realise one thing about Jason Todd; he has major separation anxiety -or so he claims- and the only known cure is to be within the same room as you, yes that even include the bathroom when your showering.

‘Jaybirdie?’

‘Yes sweetheart?’

‘…do you have to be so close to me when I’m trying to make us breakfast?’ You looked over at Jason who was basically pressed up against your back, his hands were locked on your waist, and his head was resting upon your shoulder as he looks at what you were doing with sleep ridden eyes.

Jason looks at you with those same sleep ridden eyes as he pouts. He loves being this close to you as it meant getting to caresses and knead your plush flesh as though he was a kitten, it was something he had become obsessed with when you first started dating, and even went as far as calling you his human body pillow with how perfect you were with your cute tummy he often used as a pillow and thighs that he’d gladly suffocate and die in if you let him.

‘I have separation anxiety chipmunk, you know this.’ He says and you couldn’t help but laugh at how unintentionally cute he was being.

‘I understand that but wouldn’t being in the same room be enough to calm your anxiety?’ You look at him with a raised brow but a knowing smile stretched across your face.

Jason shrugs. ‘Fuck if I know but being in the same room as you isn’t enough,’ he whines as he tightened his hold on you and sighing in content as he borrowed his hands under your shirt to caress your tummy. ‘I need to hold you like this specifically and have my hands under your shirt to cure it.’ He adds as he pressed a series of kisses against your neck and shoulders to his hearts content.

‘Sure that’s the case, I believe you.’ You said through a series of giggles as you felt his kisses tickle those sensitive spots upon your neck before having to push your hand against his face to get him to stop, much to Jason’s dismay as he whines and tries to bite your fingers, making you pull away from his mouth as quickly as you could to save your fingers from being bitten. ‘Quit it!’

‘No.’ Jason chuckled as he squeezed you further against him, finally managing to burry his head in your neck once more.

‘I can’t make dinner if you’re unwilling to let me go!’ You exclaimed but it didn’t seem to mean much to Jason as you could feel him shrug his shoulders.

‘Then let me help my sweet marshmallow from further stress over breakfast.’ Jason said without hesitation as his hands moved from under your shirt, under your pits and towards the stove you were hunching over, keeping you pressed between it and him. It was a sight so humorous that you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the two of you must look from an outside perspective, with Jason tempting to make breakfast from behind you, all the while you watched him fail to prod at some eggs with a spatula.

‘You’re ridiculous jaybirdie.’ You say to him as he only looks at you with mischief in his eyes before taking a playful nibble on your cheeks, making you playfully swat him, ‘what was that for? For telling the truth?’ You then add as you tried to keep up with the amount of surprise affection he had been giving you all day.

‘I just needed to make sure my marshmallow was still as sweet as possible given how sassy and mean they’re being to me today.’ Jason retorts as he takes yet another nibble of your cheek. ‘Yep still sweet and soft, just how I love them.’ He adds softly into your ear as you lean against him to kiss his cheek in return.

‘And I just needed to make sure that you were still my jaybirdie.’ You tell him as you found yourself melting into his touch as his hands were back under your shirt, lovingly caressing and kneeling your tummy with worship and more adoration than you ever thought was possible, but then again it’s Jason he was a man was full of love and he loved every aspect of you wholeheartedly and unconditionally. ‘What’s the verdict?’ Jason asks you and you kissed him on the lips briefly.

‘Yep, still my jaybirdie.’ You say with a smile, happy to have Jason however you could, even if you were subjected to his bouts of separation anxiety that has him clinging onto you, acting like an overgrown puppy; He was still your Jason after all.

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misshoneyimhome · 6 months ago

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500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“So you think my legs are going to magically spread for you?” I Matthew Tkachuk

Summary; Despite your mutual disinterest, as the younger sister of a Florida Panthers player, it was inevitable that you would cross paths with Matthew Tkachuk at the celebration party.

Tropes & warnings; Matthew Tkachuk x reader, enemies to lovers, player's younger sister, Stanley Cup celebration, alcohol consumption, language

Other notes; So, lovely babes, this is my first time writing for Matthew Tkachuk, so I'm beyond excited to hear what you think of it 🙏🏼 Also, this idea has been on my mind for a while, so hopefully it turned out well ✨ I really hope you enjoy it 🌺

Word count; 4.2K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

➼｡ﾟ

The Florida sun slowly sank behind the streets of Miami, casting a golden light over the lively chaos following the Florida Panthers' Stanley Cup victory. The city was buzzing with joy, fans filling the streets, waving banners, and chanting team chants.

And as a guest at the team's exclusive post-championship party, you navigated through a sea of ecstatic family members and hockey players; the venue was a swanky club, decorated in gold and red, resembling the team’s colours.

Being the younger sister of a Panthers defensemen had its perks, but tonight, it mostly meant being pulled into conversations with unfamiliar faces. You spent the evening listening to hockey tales and politely acknowledging jokes you didn’t quite get. The loud music and constant chatter were starting to give you a headache, and you yearned for some peace.

So, leaning against the bar, you nursed a drink and tried to fade into the background. And sensing your need for a break, the bartender handed you a fresh cocktail with a sympathetic smile. You took a sip, the cool liquid a relief from the heat and noise.

However, just as you began to relax, a familiar voice broke your reverie. "Well, if it isn't y/n y/l/n," Matthew Tkachuk drawled, his smirk as irritatingly charming as ever, leaning beside you at the bar, his gaze meeting yours.

You rolled your eyes. "Tkachuk," you replied, your tone dripping with the disdain that had characterised your interactions from the start. He was a forward for the team, undeniably talented, though you’d never admit it aloud.

And even worse, he looked effortlessly handsome in a well-tailored suit that managed to be both relaxed and expensive; his tousled hair and that trademark smirk were frustratingly perfect.

"So, enjoying the party?" he asked casually, mischief glinting in his eyes.

You shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "It's okay. More my brother’s thing than mine."

Matthew chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, I can see that. But you have to admit, it’s a pretty epic celebration."

You glanced around at the crowd, the dazzling lights, and the palpable excitement. "I suppose," you conceded. "But I’d prefer somewhere quieter."

But his smirk just simply widened. "Really? I would’ve thought you were someone who enjoys being right in the middle of everything."

You raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that?"

Unexpectedly, Matthew leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a confidential tone. "Because no matter where I go, you always seem to be there."

Your eyes narrowed. "Maybe that’s because you always manage to show up where you’re not wanted."

Matthew laughed, a genuine sound that briefly eased your annoyance. "Fair point. But you know, sometimes the best things happen in unexpected places."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes once more. "Yeah, well, I’m not holding my breath for that."

Matthew had always managed to get under your skin. Whether it was his smug grin on that annoyingly handsome face or his undeniable skills on the ice, he exuded confidence without apology. He was the type of guy who knew his worth and flaunted it freely.

To put it bluntly, you had never particularly liked Matthew Tkachuk - well, at least, that’s what you thought. While he hadn’t directly wronged you, he was simply too much—too loud, too cocky, too... everything. His presence could dominate a room, sucking out all the air and attention effortlessly.

If you were to compare him to a fictional character, Matthew could easily pass for Prince Charming from the Shrek movies: overly self-assured, possessing a strong ego, and strikingly handsome in every way. His eyes were magnetic, his smile infectious, and his physique impeccable. He walked with a swagger that bordered on

arrogance, and it drove you mad.

Oh, that body...

There was this one time you inadvertently caught sight of it after a training session while meeting your brother, and the image had unfortunately burned itself into your memory. He had emerged from the locker room, shirtless and still gleaming with sweat, his muscles flexing with every move.

It even intruded into your private moments, alone in your bed, right when you were on the brink of climax. The memory of his sculpted abs and the way his shorts hung low on his hips invaded your thoughts at the most inconvenient times.

You were of course incredibly embarrassed about it, not wanting to admit to anyone that you had briefly fantasised about Matthew Tkachuk. And even worse, you had to acknowledge to yourself that you had enjoyed it. The fantasy of him, his strong hands on your body, his lips against your skin, had led you to that intense pleasure that left you breathless and somewhat ashamed.

Him. Of all people.

Naturally, you tried to convince yourself it was solely the work of your vibrator. Yet, you couldn’t shake the fact that he had crossed your mind. Every time you saw him, that memory lingered in the depths of your thoughts, causing you to blush and feel a mixture of irritation and something else you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

As you stood there, amidst the lively atmosphere of the Stanley Cup celebration, you had to clench your thighs together and banish all lingering thoughts of him. The vibrant energy of the party coursed through your veins, yet the memory of Matthew's teasing smirk and his lingering touch persisted.

But it seemed as though he could sense your unspoken resistance. And Matthew was the type who thrived on challenges; and you were a challenge he wasn't about to shy away from. So suddenly, he was closely beside you, his breath warm against your ear, cutting through the room's clamour. "Well, I must say I didn't expect to find you here, princess. I thought you didn’t like partying with your brother's teammates?"

Your eyes narrowed. "I don’t. I'm only here for the free drinks." You tried to sound nonchalant, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the thrill his proximity brought.

Matthew chuckled, and despite your efforts, a small smile tugged at your lips. There was an undeniable magnetism in his confidence, his playful demeanour contrasting sharply with the intensity he showed on the ice. But shaking your head, you reminded yourself of all the reasons why you shouldn’t like him. He was arrogant, overly self-assured, and absolutely the last person you should find intriguing.

Yet, his husky voice once again brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Or maybe you’re just here to have a good time?”

Raising an eyebrow, you met his gaze with a defiant stare. “So you think my legs are going to magically spread for you just because we're at the same party?" you retorted, trying to regain your composure and create some distance between you.

You felt assured by your words. Maybe it was the outfit you'd chosen that gave you that extra boost of confidence — something you'd been very mindful of when putting it together; the sleek black dress you'd opted for hugged your curves perfectly. Its smooth silhouette highlighted your figure with undeniable allure, while the low neckline offered a subtle hint of cleavage, adding a touch of charm suitable for the occasion. Under the soft lights, the dress shimmered elegantly, catching the eye as you moved and subtly drawing attention.

Despite its form-fitting design, the dress fell just above the knee, striking a balance between sophistication and allure. It was a choice that exuded confidence, commanding attention without overshadowing the celebratory atmosphere of the evening. Plus, the drinks you'd been sipping for the past few hours had added to your courage.

Matthew simply raised an eyebrow, his blue-grey eyes twinkling with amusement. "Who said anything about magic?" he teased, his voice low. "But I wouldn't mind if it happened."

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. "You're unbelievable." The heat of the moment and his proximity made it difficult to think clearly, but you were determined not to let him get to you.

Matthew then leaned back, his expression turning more serious. "Look, y/n, I know we've had our differences—"

"You mean you've been a prick," you interjected, unable to hold back. It was instinctive, a defence mechanism kicking in to shield yourself from the unexpected vulnerability his seriousness revealed.

But Matthew just sighed, running a hand through his curly hair, styled into a soft, modern mullet. His eyes softened momentarily, revealing a glimpse of the person beyond the bravado. Yet, before he could say anything more, you were both pulled away to rejoin some of the others, their laughter and high spirits drawing you back into the celebration.

As the night wore on, both you and Matthew kept your distance, focusing on simply enjoying the party. You laughed, danced, and chatted with others, trying to push the encounter from your mind. Yet, every so often, you caught him glancing your way, his gaze thoughtful and intense, making your heart race all over again.

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but be aware of him, his presence a constant hum at the back of your mind. Though the celebration continued around you, a whirlwind of joy and excitement, there was an undercurrent of something else, something that left you wondering just what Matthew Tkachuk's intentions were, and whether you were ready to find out.

It was a huge win for the Panthers. The air crackled with excitement, a chorus of cheers and celebratory shouts echoing through the room. Drinks flowed freely, and the players, including Matthew, were eager to shed the weight of the season's training rules and simply revel in their victory.

Despite their attempts to keep the celebration controlled, the intensity of the moment quickly swept everyone up. Laughter filled the air as families began to depart, leaving behind only the players and their younger siblings at the lively gathering. And in the midst of it all, Matthew felt a surge of confidence building within him.

And that’s when his eyes landed on you once again.

From across the room, he observed you with a mix of curiosity and admiration. Your laughter resonated, adding to the jubilant atmosphere as you engaged in conversation with some of the other players' siblings. Matthew couldn’t deny that there was something distinctly captivating about you tonight, a subtle allure that drew his attention and held it.

“You should hit that,” Brady, Matthew's younger brother, interjected abruptly, breaking through his thoughts.

“What?” Matthew replied, caught off guard by Brady's blunt statement.

“Go for it,” the Ottawa player teased, a mischievous glint in his eye and a slight slur to his words. “You’ve been staring at her all night. Just go for it! You know you want to.”

Matthew chuckled dismissively, shaking his head. “I haven’t been staring at her all night. I’ve barely spoken to her.”

But Brady's lips just curled into a smirk, his confidence buoyed by the alcohol swirling through his veins, amplifying his bravado as he leaned in towards Matthew. His words dripped with sarcasm, each syllable a challenge meant to goad his older brother into action.

"Sure," he scoffed, the hint of a dare in his voice. "Come on, I dare you to go ask her for a dance."

Matthew's brows furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing in playful disbelief at Brady's persistence. A chuckle escaped his lips, a mix of amusement and mild protest.

"No way, man," Matthew replied, shaking his head with a wry grin. His brother's teasing was nothing new, but tonight, under the influence of celebration and camaraderie, it almost struck a chord.

Brady, undeterred by Matthew's initial refusal, pressed on with the banter, his voice carrying a playful challenge underscored by the sibling rivalry that defined their relationship.

"Alright, I guess if you don't want to, it’s cool," he taunted, his words tinged with mock disappointment. “I mean bro, you can be a chicken if you want to, but don't tell me you're afraid. After winning the Cup, this should be a piece of cake. Unless you're scared she'll turn you down?”

And the barb hit its mark, stirring something within Matthew's competitive spirit. His jaw set with determination; he couldn't let Brady's jibes go unanswered. As athletes, the Tkachuk brothers were no strangers to challenges and dares—each one a gauntlet thrown down, impossible to ignore.

In that moment, Matthew's resolve solidified. He couldn't allow his younger brother to mock him for shying away from a simple act like asking someone to dance. After all, he was Matthew Tkachuk, a Stanley Cup champion—this should be effortless.

So, as mature as ever, Matthew raised an eyebrow. “Fine, you want a show? Watch this.”

Brady's eyes tracked his movements with a mixture of amusement and curiosity as his older brother weaved through the jubilant crowd. The room buzzed with excitement, cheers reverberating off the walls, and the beat of celebratory music filled the air. Despite the festive atmosphere, Matthew's attention honed in on your distinct presence across the room, a singular figure amidst the sea of revelry.

However, with each deliberate step toward you, Matthew felt a peculiar weight settle on his shoulders. His heart suddenly thudded loudly in his chest, a blend of nerves and adrenaline pulsing through his veins like a current.

Wait, what? Why? he silently questioned himself, puzzled by the sudden intensity of his emotions. It was just you, after all—a person he didn't need to impress or prove himself to.

Yet, there was an undeniable pull, an intrigue that had always lurked beneath the surface, even if Matthew had never outwardly acknowledged it. Unlike other women in his life, you exuded a unique aura that captivated him. Whether at the rink before or after training sessions, patiently waiting for your brother, you seemed to radiate an effortless calm and genuine happiness. Your vibrant smile lit up the room, your spirit almost ethereal in its positivity. But it was your sharp wit, akin to a sailor's banter, and your quick-fire comebacks that left an indelible impression on Matthew.

And perhaps it was precisely this multifaceted charm that intrigued the Arizona forward more than he cared to admit.

So, as Matthew closed the gap, he mentally bolstered his confidence, preparing to gently interrupt the small talk surrounding you.

"Hey," he said, tapping you lightly on the shoulder.

You turned, surprise flickering in your eyes before masking it with a smirk. "Back for more, Tkachuk?"

But he just grinned, leaning casually against the wall beside you. "Couldn't stay away."

"Of course not," you replied simply, rolling your eyes playfully as you tried to hide the slight flutter in your stomach that his presence stirred.

There was a brief moment of silence, a hint of awkwardness settling between you, as you both seemed unsure why Matthew had suddenly returned to talk to you. But then he broke the silence with a proposition that caught you off guard.

“How about a dance?”

“What?” you replied, genuinely baffled by his unexpected request.

“How about a dance?” Matthew repeated, his voice more confident this time, his gaze steady on yours.

You blinked in surprise, momentarily at a loss for words. This was not the Matthew Tkachuk you were used to—the cocky, overconfident player who always seemed to know how to push your buttons. This Matthew seemed... different.

Still, you weren’t about to let him off that easily. "You’re joking, right?" you replied, your tone laced with a mix of incredulity and sarcasm.

His smirk widened slightly, yet there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—determination, perhaps a hint of vulnerability. "No, I'm serious. One dance. Unless you're too scared to be seen with me."

And that did it. You never backed down from a challenge, especially not from Matthew Tkachuk. "Scared? Of you? Please."

"So, prove it," he challenged, extending his hand towards you.

With a light huff, you placed your hand in his, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he led you confidently to the centre of the makeshift dance floor. The crowd around you seemed to part, creating a space where only the pulsing beat of the music and the heat between you two existed. The deep bass reverberated through your chest, setting a rhythm that seemed to sync effortlessly with your movements alongside Matthew.

As you danced, the initial tension between you began to melt away. There was an undeniable chemistry, an unspoken understanding that drew you closer despite your history of mutual animosity. Matthew's hand on your waist guided you with a firm yet gentle touch, each step bringing you closer together physically and emotionally. The energy between you was palpable, a magnetic pull that neither of you could resist.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of indifference, you suddenly found yourself swept up in the moment. The barriers you had carefully erected seemed to crumble in the face of this unexpected connection, leaving you both vulnerable yet exhilarated.

Then, as the song drew to an end, Matthew's breath warmed your ear again as he leaned in closer, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief and genuine warmth. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

You pulled back slightly, your eyes locking onto his with a mixture of defiance and something deeper—a flicker of unspoken emotions stirring within you. "I suppose not," you admitted begrudgingly, unable to ignore the rush of exhilaration that his proximity brought.

"Maybe we should do this more often," Matthew suggested, his tone playful yet his eyes revealing a sincerity that surprised you.

But you just raised an eyebrow, your guard instinctively rising. "Don't push your luck, Tkachuk."

He chuckled softly, "fair enough, y/n. Fair enough."

As you then turned to leave the dance floor, determined to regain your composure amidst the fluttering in your stomach—just like when you felt your very first crush—fate decided to intervene in the form of a clumsy collision. Another large body bumped into you, causing their drink to spill onto your dress, and you stumbled backwards, only to find yourself caught by Matthew's quick reflexes.

"Whoa there," Matthew's voice was calm, his arms wrapped securely around you. "Are you alright?"

Once again you met his blue-grey eyes, and you felt your heart racing as you momentarily lost yourself in their depths. "Yeah, I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice revealing a breathlessness you couldn't conceal. "Thanks."

Matthew steadied you, his hands lingering on your waist a fraction longer than necessary, stirring a warmth that spread through you. "No worries," he replied softly, his gaze holding yours with a gentle intensity. "But you can always just say it if you can't resist me."

Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, you teased back, "Don't flatter yourself, Tkachuk. It was just an accident."

His grin widened, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Sure, sure," he responded, his playful manner unwavering. "But accidents can lead to interesting places."

Unable to stifle a laugh at his persistence, you shook your head with amusement. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here we are," Matthew countered, his tone light but his eyes holding a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

But before you could reply, your brother appeared, slightly tipsy and curious. "Hey y/n, everything alright here?" he asked, eyeing you and Matthew with interest.

"Yeah, all good," you replied quickly, stepping back from Matthew's embrace. "Just a minor collision."

Your brother raised an eyebrow but chose not to press further. "Alright, just checking. You know how wild these parties can get."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed, grateful for the interruption. "Thanks."

As your brother then wandered off, Matthew turned to you with a more serious expression. "How about we leave?"

"What?" you asked, surprised by his sudden suggestion.

"Let's get out of here," he repeated, his voice soft but resolute.

Confusion mixed with a touch of curiosity as Matthew took your hand, leading you away from the bustling crowd. Despite your uncertainty, you were drawn to his calm assurance, ready to follow wherever this unexpected night might lead.

Matthew guided you out of the noisy room, his hand warm and firm in yours, fingers intertwined as if they naturally belonged that way. The sounds of the party gradually faded as you stepped into the cool night air, a refreshing change from the warmth and noise inside. You followed him down a path that veered away from the venue, guided by the gentle moonlight casting soft shadows around you.

"Where are we heading?"

He glanced back at you, a mischievous yet reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Just trust me. It’s… quieter."

You walked together in comfortable silence, the lively sounds of the city night slowly giving way to the distant crash of waves. After a few minutes, you arrived at a secluded spot overlooking the beach, the peaceful scene illuminated by the moon's soft glow. The rhythmic sound of waves brushing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, while stars sparkled brightly above, mirroring the newfound excitement in your heart.

"This is... nice," you confessed softly, taking in the tranquil beauty surrounding you.

Matthew shrugged casually, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sea met the sky. "Sometimes it's good to escape all the noise. Clears the mind."

You nodded in agreement, savouring the calmness that enveloped both of you. "Yeah, it does."

Standing side by side, immersed in the serene atmosphere, you sensed a shift in the air. It was a moment suspended in time, where words felt unnecessary yet emotions spoke volumes. Despite the unexpectedness of being alone with Matthew Tkachuk, someone you often clashed with, there was an unspoken understanding between you now.

Then, almost as if to break the tension or perhaps to fully embrace it, you spoke up, your voice teasing yet tinged with uncertainty. "Listen, Tkachuk, if you're planning to kidnap me —"

"Then what?" Matthew interrupted, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he turned and closed the distance between you, his tall figure towering over you. "What would you do if I did kidnap you, huh?" he challenged, his tone teasing yet carrying a hint of something deeper.

You were momentarily stunned into silence, caught off guard by his unexpected boldness.

"Lost for words?" Matthew teased further, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he observed your reaction, his presence exerting a magnetic pull that left you slightly breathless.

"N-no," you managed to stammer out, your mind racing to process the whirlwind of emotions. "I'm just... not sure why you suddenly wanted to be alone with me like this."

Matthew paused, pressing his lips together and his expression softening as he considered his response, his gaze unwaveringly locked with yours.

"Lost for words?" you teased back gently. "I mean, you could have just—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Matthew leaned in and kissed you, a sudden gesture that completely took you by surprise yet somehow felt inevitable. The abruptness made your knees weaken momentarily, leaving you stunned. But then, driven by a newfound desire, you found yourself responding to the kiss, your hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt.

Matthew cupped your face tenderly with his hands, sending a rush of warmth through you. The kiss was filled with urgency, conveying emotions that words had failed to capture. It was everything unexpected yet strangely fitting.

And when he then pulled back, both of you were breathless, chests rising and falling together. His forehead rested gently against yours, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw a mix of vulnerability and determination that mirrored your own inner turmoil.

"I wanted to be alone with you because... I can't get you out of my head," Matthew confessed softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to shatter the fragile moment between you. "You drive me crazy in ways I can't explain. I just... needed you to know that."

Your heart raced at his honesty, a swirl of emotions overwhelming you. This was Matthew Tkachuk—the guy who always managed to push your buttons—now standing before you with a vulnerability that felt disarmingly real.

"I..." you began, struggling to find words that matched the intensity of the moment. "I've been thinking about you too. More than I'd like to admit."

His eyes brightened with hope and relief upon hearing your confession, a gentle smile forming at the corners of his lips. "So, what do we do now?" he asked softly, his thumb delicately caressing your cheek, anchoring you in the present moment.

You returned his smile, genuine joy spreading across your face. "I suppose we see where this takes us. No more arguing, no more games. Just... us."

Matthew's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with happiness and anticipation. "I like the sound of that."

He then kissed you again, slower this time, his lips conveying a promise of newfound connection and unspoken possibilities. When you finally pulled away, the world around you felt different—brighter, filled with potential.

And as you walked hand in hand back towards the distant sounds of music and laughter, there was a renewed energy crackling between you. You knew your brother would notice the change immediately. Always protective, he might initially confront Matthew, but you trusted him to ultimately understand.

#500 followers festival #mt19 #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #florida panthers imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey imagine

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eobe · 2 months ago

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What is the sniper doing in my office? 👀

This is MY desktop and I didn’t invite him! 🤔 But @foxwithadarkside did – remarking that my cat Luigi from my previous desktop artwork IS Crosshair 🐱

I couldn’t un-see the mischief anymore and unforeseen art occupied my brain once again! 🥳And as always, art tends to rough up my brain until I manage to get it out and finally get some sleep if that's not asking too much 🤯✨

So I had to deal with him lurking around like my cat Luigi and especially if he's bored or unnerved he's up to no good. Here we get another proof, that Crosshair is only a big cat 😺

👀

🤣 🐾

Look who cannot resist to paw my pencil! I CAUGHT you, Crosshair! 😎

So now I'm a proud little drawing Padawan 🦉✨ No templates for the faces, the expression, the body shape. One exception: The paw in the last frame my husband modeled for me! 👍

And that was way too much fun and quite difficult because he made faces and hissed like Crosshair (nooo... not good 👀 I'm not going to be a Crosshair girl, especially if my stuff gets pawed! 🐾 )

Edit: Here is the artwork that caused it all: Peaking cat Luigi

My personal ALT-Text mission (1 additional ALT-Text for a previous artwork with each new art posting!):

Crosshair getting Lula'd 😁

Taglist: @eclec-tech @lonewolflupe @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit

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goosewriting · 1 year ago

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Hey I loved your baby from the future series, and was wondering if you could do mikey?? no rush tho! I love your writing style btw!

🦆 anon @duckanon

All them bebes! 🥺 (rottmnt Mikey x reader)

summary: several turtle babies suddenly appear in the lair, and they look suspiciously a lot like Mikey

relationship: Rise!Mikey x GN reader

warnings: none

word count: 2.2k

A/N: here we go with the grand finale ✨ (welcome duckanon btw!) this one was by far the hardest to write of the four, so i really hope you like it! ♥ i had gotten an ask for mikey’s part for a reader that has been alone almost all their life and accepted that they’d never be a parent even though they really wanted to, so i incorporated that, thanks for the idea!

More “Baby 🥺” versions: Leo | Raph | Donnie | Mikey (you're here)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

On a rainy Saturday afternoon, there wasn‘t a lot to do, so you decided to spend the day at the lair with your favourite turtle. You were in Mikey‘s room, with him lying on his belly on the bed, and you at his desk. Art supplies were scattered all around the place, and you both listened to some lo-fi while very focused on the masterpieces you were crafting.

Suddenly, there was a series of zapping sounds behind you. Confused, and slightly startled, you turned around on the squeaky office chair you were sat in, and saw some yellow flickering lights above the floor, of which a turtle tot came crawling out. Before you could even process what you were seeing, the lights disappeared, and there was a new flash of yellow a couple of feet to the side. With another turtle baby. Your eyes quickly shot up in Mikey’s direction, just to make sure that he was aware of this too and you weren’t just imagining things. To your partial relief, he looked just as shocked as you.

You didn’t even get to push yourself off the chair to stand up, as you were planning to, when the new wave of zapping lights appeared above you, and you looked up in horror. Out of thin air appeared yet another turtle baby, falling into your lap. You caught it with a squeal of surprise, which was reciprocated by a gleeful one coming from the baby.

One last zap, on the bed this time, accompanied by not one but two turtles, and then the flickering lights disappeared entirely, leaving you and Mikey very confused, as you were suddenly surrounded by five little turtle lots, all stumbling as they tried to stand up on short, wobbly legs. They all looked around curiously, the one on your lap looked slightly lost, even. But when you looked at the pair on the bed, you immediately recognised two little faces ready to cause some mischief.

However the two tots skillfully manoeuvred over the bunched up blankets to reach Mikey, cooing at him and climbing into his lap, as he was trying to stand up from the bed. Of the two turtles that had appeared on the floor, one waddled towards you, holding onto your leg and squishing its cheek against your knee once it reached you, while the other swiftly made its way to Mikey, making grabby hands at him and asking to be picked up.

In your stupor and inability to speak, you intently took in the scene. They all had yellow splotches like Mikey, and were very freckly, the one in your lap having the most. They all had one thing in common though: all five were absolutely adorable.

Seeing that the turtles on Mikey’s lap were in essence the spitting image of the few baby photos you had seen of your boyfriend, you smiled to yourself.

“If i didn't know any better I'd say they're your kids,” you told Mikey, looking at the little turtle in your lap and smiling widely, to which it cooed and waved at you. “They look just like you!”

“We have to get Donnie here asap,” Mikey said instead, ignoring your comment for the time being, although the faintest of blushes on his cheeks did not go unnoticed by you. He somehow managed to pry himself free of the three little turtles on him, leaving them on the bed instead, three pairs of curious eyes looking after him as he left to get his brother. After he was gone from view, all three heads turned towards you in comical synchrony.

“So…” you started, picking up the second baby into your lap that had been pulling on your trousers impatiently. “Where are your parents?”

Wow, look at you, trying to make conversation with a bunch of kids, you thought to yourself. Except that they all pointed at you without hesitation.

Wait what?

As you were trying to make sense of this, let’s be honest, pretty ridiculous situation, the pair of turtles that came in together started to get rowdy. If you had to guess you’d have said they’re the only pair of twins out of the five, with how they were always clinging to each other and even the splotches on their arms and faces seemed to be mostly identical. You weren’t sure what they were fighting about, but the pushes started getting stronger and their voices louder as well. You tried to calm them down but they were not listening, and you couldn't exactly get up, as the turtle you had picked up was trying to climb onto your head, pulling at your shirt.

Before you were able to stop them, one of the twins pushed the other off the bed, and he fell to the floor with a slight clunk. You held your breath for a second, hoping he’d walk it off, but he started crying. With a deep sigh and an “alright” that was directed more towards yourself than the turtles, you got up and brought everyone to the bed, sitting down yourself as well. You picked up the crying turtle, bringing him into your lap, and you gently rubbed his head where he hit the floor.

“There, there,” you cooed, giving him a little kiss, and that seemed to do the trick as he calmed down immediately. The other turtles protested, trying to climb into your lap as well; they all wanted kisses.

You chuckled at the sight, feeling like a horde of puppies was about to overwhelm you. You gave kisses left and right, trying your best to get everyone an equal amount. Just as the twins had finally calmed down and were about to doze off, tightly holding onto your arm and each other, Mikey appeared again at the door, Donnie behind him.

The purple-clad turtle took one hard look, stopping in his tracks, taking in the scene before him. Mikey gave him a friendly slap on his shoulder to encourage him to go in there and do the thing.

With a sigh and an unreadable expression, Donnie approached you and started scanning the turtles with a handheld device of sorts. The turtles were silent but curious, following his movements with interest, and so did you.

Then, Donnie proceeded to scan you, and then Mikey. The device calculated something, and his wrist brace beeped, showing a result in text hovering over his arm, so you were able to read it from where you were sitting.

“Congrats” Donnie first deadpanned, placing a hand on Mikey's shoulder. But then a slightly amused smirk appeared on his face. “You two made me an uncle.”

“What?!” you and Mikey said in unison, shocked, looking at his wrist again. The text read: “99.88% DNA match”.

“I'll be in the lab trying to figure out how to get them back into their timeline,” Donnie remarked, leaving the room as if he didn’t just say that you were surrounded by your turtle kids from the future.

You were holding the twins in your arms, and another that had gotten behind you was leaning against your back, tiny head pressed between your shoulders; all three were about to fall asleep. The other two turtles were on either side of you, looking up at Mikey and asking to be picked up by him when he approached you. He took one into each arm and took a long look at each with a smile. His gaze shot up to you when he suddenly heard you sniffling.

“Whoa, you okay?” Mikey asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I'm just... Trying to process this,” you replied, unable to wipe away your tears as your arms and hands were currently cradling the turtles, so the tears freely rolled down your cheeks and fell onto your shirt.

“That we get kids at some point?” Mikey asked, almost sheepishly. You slowly nodded your head, but it turned into shaking, as it wasn’t just that.

“More like… That I have a family at all,” you admitted. “One of my own.”

One of the turtles in your lap stirred and his little hand reached yours, holding onto your index finger. Now you were trying to hold back sobs so as to not wake them up, but you were unsuccessful. The twins blinked a couple of times, then looked up at you with a slight frown. Even the two in Mikey’s arms looked all worried that you were in distress.

Suddenly all five turtle babies started humming. At first it was a little desynchronised, but it quickly turned into a lullaby melody, one you hadn't heard in a very long time. This made you cry even harder, and Mikey sat down on the bed, so that all five turtles could hold onto you.

You smiled through your tears at the whole situation; they were comforting you when really it should be the other way around. Even Mikey’s hand was gently rubbing up and down your back, his brows furrowed together, trying to come up with something to say. He knew you had been alone most of your life, but he loved you so much and wanted to give you the world because you deserved it and more; it hurt him to see you thinking you couldn’t have a family of your own.

By now the song was over, and the babies just held tightly onto you. Mikey opened his mouth to say something, when a comically loud grumble filled the room for an embarrassingly long time. You laughed, finally able to get one arm free, and brought it up to rub over your face with the back of your sleeve.

“Was that the tots or you, Mikey?” you asked with a chuckle.

“I think that was all of us,” he replied, and five little heads nodded in agreement. “How about some food, then?” They all squealed in glee, starting to climb off the bed and running around.

To keep them apart, you decided to put stickers on their shells, like Mikey had on his plastron. They all got to choose the one they liked best, and after they were marked, the whole group took off to the kitchen.

Mikey quickly whipped up something safe for the little turtles to eat, and make food for you and himself as well. After you were all full, you went back to Mikey's room and decided to make a nap pile on his bed.

Unable to sleep, while the rest was happily snoozing, you got up and started gathering some crayons and pencils into a box so the turtles could draw after they woke up.

Suddenly there was that zap again, and you turned around in shock, hoping that there weren't more little tots to take care of until Donnie figured out something, but you were frozen in place as this swirl of lights was far bigger than the others you had seen. Who, or what would come in through there?!

Your mouth hung slightly agape in disbelief when an older version of none other than Mikey came hopping into your timeline, looking around until his gaze met yours. That's when behind him came another figure, and it was Leo, except that he was way taller (oh he’d love to have a growth spurt like that for sure), and he had a… mechanical arm? Just what was going on?!

This Leo first saw the nap pile and went “aww, look at them” but the older Mikey quickly shushed him. Then he turned to you with a gentle smile, his orange cloak swooshing around his ankles.

“Let's not wake them up,” he explained. “The less Mikey versions everyone sees, the better. Especially the kids.”

“Are you here to… pick them up?” you asked, unsure if you were relieved that the babies would go back to where they belonged, or sad because you wanted to spend some more time with them.

Mikey nodded with a warm smile, and held your hand. Meanwhile Leo started carefully picking up the babies from the bed. In his big arms they suddenly looked so much smaller and frail. You felt a light squeeze to your hand, so you brought your eyes back to Mikey.

“I wish the surprise hadn’t been spoiled but,” he said, leaning in and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s quite the roller-coaster. Look forward to it.”

“I already am,” you admit, holding onto his hand for one more moment, then letting go so they could leave.

Leo gave you a knowing nod with his head and an encouraging smile as he stepped through the portal. Mikey turned around one last time before leaving, shooting you a wink, which you responded by playfully sticking your tongue out at him, as you would usually do.

The lights flickered for a second, and then they were gone, leaving you standing alone in the dark room. Wiping over your face one last time to dry the remaining tears, you climbed into the bed with a sigh, and it felt much too big and empty now. You scooted closer to Mikey and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, planting a sleepy kiss on your forehead. You sniffled into his plastron, trying your hardest to calm down and not wake him up.

Eventually, Mikey's steady breaths started lulling you to sleep, and as your eyes finally closed, you hoped to dream with five little turtles.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @Hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @xnorthstar3x, @theoriginalmintyyyshake, @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @Lovestruckfictionadict, @salty-s-r, @lieutenantlashfaz, @sleebykei, @spacelesbianfanclub, @snipersiniora, @je-m-appelle-yam, @lunar-lover1, @normal-internet-user, @sleepyomeowers

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #michelangelo x reader #rise mikey x reader #the turtle baby saga #🦆 anon

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witchcraftandbergamottea · 4 months ago

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🍪🍩🍭🍫🍬🍪🍬🍬🍩🍫🍭🍪

I would like to dedicate this post to Loki, the Almighty God of Mischief and Chaos, who has been a part of my life since I was very young and whom I recently rediscovered on my path in paganism.

I understand that each person’s relationship with the gods and deities is unique. However, I want to take a moment to express my deep appreciation for the wisdom, care, and protection Loki has shown me. He has also been incredibly patient with me—Gods know how slow I can be, especially when it comes to interpreting signs and navigating my own uncertainties.

Despite all the hardships I’ve faced, I’ve managed to remain playful, even when life has been harsh and unkind. Loki has been there for me through it all.

Hail Loki! May your name shine as bright as the flames of the beaming sun. You are life itself ✨ The chaos you embody is not only uncertainty but also the very essence of creation.

Thank you so much, Loki. I hope you know that the love and appreciation I have in my heart for you are genuine. You’ve taught me so much through your chaotic dances, daily confusions, random coincidences, and unexpected events. You continue to be a guiding presence in my life.

#pagan #paganism #pagan witch #witchcraft #norse paganism #norse heathen #loki devotion #loki worship #loki pagan #hail loki #loki #norse loki

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chronoghoul · 1 month ago

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I loved ur velvette x muscular gf scenario SM ty for the food cus it fed me well 🤭 I have another one shot request cus you write so well I just had to (*≧∀≦*)

Idk if what I’m asking for is too complicated or not but what about velvette w a female reader who’s also an overlord (who’s more powerful than velvette), the two of them basically have a rivals relationship and claim they hate each other but they’re obviously in love

(Bonus points if you can make reader sassy/dominant/confident and velvette being into that) like I’m imagining dom mommy like reader in a business suit and velvette as the loud, bratty type (readers doll)

Ty for listening to me rant about my brain rot ≧﹏≦

- ✨🌷

╭﹒⊹⋆﹒ @ 𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑 2024.

୨ ,, vel x dominant/sassy fem!reader, powerful!overlord!reader .ᐟ

𖦹 ｡° note : I'm always happy to see people requests again! I'm glad you loved my writing, honestly I wrote this faster because I'm extremely motivated after finding out there's no school on Monday so 😛, sorry if it seems sloppy or rushed I didn't really proof read any of this 😭 lmk if I made mistakes 𖥔 ݁ ˖.°. ⭑

﹒｡ꔫ﹒wc : ~740+

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭

The clack of your heels echoes down the marble corridor, each step resonating with purpose. Demons part around you like water, bowing or averting their eyes, anything to avoid drawing your ire. The seat of power was yours, and you'd ensured everyone knew it.

Everyone, that is, except her.

Velvette sits at the far end of the room, lounging with a casual defiance in a sprawl that somehow manages to convey boredom, confidence, and provocation all at once. The moment her eyes lock onto yours, her lips pull into a smirk—cocky and lazy, like she’s sizing you up for her next meal.

"Well, well," she drawls, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Look who finally decided to join us. The Big Boss herself." Her tone is dripping with faux respect, each word deliberately crafted to rile you.

You narrow your eyes, lifting an eyebrow. “Charming as ever, Velvette. I see you’re still living in that delusion of relevance.”

Her grin widens, and you know you’ve hit exactly where you aimed. But it only makes her eyes gleam with mischief, a dare, a challenge. “Relevant enough to get under your skin, darling.”

The word rolls off her tongue like honey, sticky-sweet and thick with mocking affection. You exhale, smoothing down your tailored suit—a crisp, dark cut that fits you like a glove. It's all part of the role, the image you’ve meticulously crafted: cold, untouchable, powerful.

Velvette’s eyes linger on the lapels of your blazer, her gaze tracing every inch of the material down to where it hugs your waist. Her stare feels like a caress and a taunt at the same time, challenging you without words.

“Like what you see?” you murmur, tilting your head, voice low and condescending. You give her a pointed once-over, letting your gaze sweep slowly, a silent reminder of the hierarchy here. “Or just wishing you could handle it?”

A scoff. “Please,” she sneers, rolling her eyes in that dramatic way of hers, but there’s a blush creeping up her neck. “You know I’m just wondering how much of that bravado would last if I ever got my hands on you.”

“Oh?” You fold your arms, letting one eyebrow lift in mock curiosity. “And how, exactly, would you plan on handling me, Velvette?”

She leans back further, arms crossing over her chest as her gaze never wavers from yours. “Depends,” she purrs, voice dropping an octave. “Do I get to see what’s under that perfectly polished armor, or are you all bark and no bite?”

The tension between you is electric, sparking with the intensity of every unspoken dare. You both hold each other’s gaze, neither willing to blink first. This is the game you play, day after day—a clash of wills, power, and something much deeper neither of you wants to admit.

Stepping closer, you let your presence fill the room. Velvette’s smirk falters just for a heartbeat, and it’s enough to satisfy you. Reaching out, you tug lightly on the front of her outfit, pulling her just close enough that she can feel the breath ghosting off your lips. She stiffens, her eyes widening briefly before she schools her expression.

“Admit it, Velvette,” you whisper, voice a deadly calm. “This little act of yours? It’s all for show. You’d break if I even touched you.”

Her laugh is a low, throaty chuckle, but there's a sharp edge to it now. She’s on the defensive. “I’d love to see you try.”

You lean in, lips barely grazing her ear. “Careful what you wish for,” you murmur, voice thick with menace and promise alike. “You’re not ready for what I could give you.”

There’s a moment of stillness where all you hear is her breath catching, her heartbeat quickening. And then, as though reclaiming the upper hand, Velvette pulls back just enough to look you in the eye. She smirks, but it’s less certain now, her bravado cracking ever so slightly.

“Maybe I’m the only one who could actually handle you, darling,” she breathes, voice tinged with something vulnerable, something genuine.

You feel a pang of something unfamiliar. But you don’t let it show. Instead, you release her and straighten, giving her one last smug glance.

“We’ll see,” you say, turning on your heel. "Maybe next time you’ll find the courage to do more than just talk."

As you walk away, you feel her eyes on you, burning into your back. And somehow, you know this isn’t the end. Far from it.

#୨୧┇𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 #୨୧┇𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥 #writing #one shot #oneshot #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #fem reader #female reader #wlw post #wlw #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #velvette x reader #x reader

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earthlybeam · 4 days ago

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🎄🎁Merry Christmas everyone🎉✨

✨☀️🏵️ 𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵 🏵️☀️✨

how would the elves react to this?

↓

Glrofindel Version below. (reader/you are his lover). Featuring what I wrote below is: Building a Snowman (With a Twist), Snowball Fight, Sledging Adventure, Snow Angel.

☀️𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵

Building a Snowman(With a Twist):

𖤓 The sun hung low in the sky, casting a soft, golden glow over the snowy landscape as you and Glorfindel worked together to build a snowman. His graceful movements were surprisingly nimble for someone so accustomed to battle, his long elven limbs sweeping through the snow as he rolled the largest of the snowballs into place. The deep, resonant laughter between you two echoed through the silent forest, a contrast to the otherwise peaceful, frozen world around you. Glorfindel, with his regal poise even in the simplest of tasks, knelt carefully to add the snowman’s head, brushing away any stray snowflakes as if he were crafting a piece of fine art. His golden hair, now slightly tousled from the work, shone like the sun against the white expanse of the snow, and his sharp blue eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and amusement as he placed the head atop the body. “Perfect,” he said with a satisfied smile, standing back to admire the snowman, his posture as dignified as if he were surveying a mighty work of craftsmanship. “I think we have a fine creation here, don’t you, meleth?”

𖤓 You stood beside him, admiring the snowman with equal pleasure. It was an impressive sight—his features delicately sculpted, the snow compacted just so, and the overall shape standing tall and proud. But despite how perfect it was, you couldn’t help but let a mischievous thought bubble up. With a smirk, you quietly moved behind Glorfindel, watching as he adjusted the snowman’s features, totally unaware of your intent. The moment was ripe, and you couldn’t resist. As Glorfindel bent down to pick up a carrot to use as the snowman’s nose, you quickly snatched another carrot from the nearby pile of snow provisions. With quick, decisive hands, you placed the carrot between the snowman’s legs, positioning it just right. Then, with a flourish, you added two perfectly round pebbles just beneath it.

𖤓 There it was: a snowman with a very distinct characteristic. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle as you stepped back to survey your work, your heart racing with excitement at the mischief you’d just instigated. Glorfindel stood up straight after securing the nose, wiping his hands off, and turned to admire the creation he’d helped build. But as his gaze swept over the snowman, it landed on the rather unconventional addition you’d made. His posture froze for a split second, a slight widening of his eyes betraying the surprise he felt. Then, ever the master of his emotions, he lifted a single, golden brow—perfectly arched, as only Glorfindel could manage. His lips quirked upward in the smallest of smiles, but his gaze was fixed on you, sharp and amused.

𖤓 “I see where your mind is at,” he remarked dryly, his voice laced with both incredulity and admiration for your boldness. Despite his attempt at seriousness, the corners of his lips betrayed him, twitching as he tried to hold back a full grin. You, however, were doing your best to feign innocence, though the mischievous glint in your eyes was unmistakable. With a raised eyebrow, you looked at him and said, “What? I’m just helping him fit in.” The mock seriousness in your tone only made the moment more absurd, and your heart pounded in anticipation of Glorfindel’s next move. He stood there for a moment, his arms crossing in mock disapproval as he surveyed the snowman and then looked back at you. His laughter bubbled just beneath the surface, but he held his stern gaze, maintaining his façade of dignity. “You’ve certainly given him… character,” he said, shaking his head in exaggerated disbelief. “You know, my heart is moved by your creativity, meleth, but this is a rather… unorthodox approach to snowman building.”

𖤓 You couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles at his words, your hand flying to your mouth in a vain attempt to stifle the laughter that bubbled uncontrollably from within you. Glorfindel’s face softened, and for a brief moment, it seemed like the weight of his age and experience vanished in the face of your antics. His eyes danced with the same warmth and amusement that had first drawn you to him. With a sly grin, he stepped closer to you, his boots crunching through the snow as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, “Should I be worried that I am beginning to see a trend in your behavior?” Before you could answer, he scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it playfully at you. The cold hit your face, and you gasped in surprise, laughing as the snow splattered over your cheeks and down your collar. The moment of mischievousness had shifted into an all-out snowball fight, the air now alive with snow flying in all directions.

𖤓 “Oh, you’re impossible,” Glorfindel laughed, his voice rich with affection, but there was a glint of challenge in his eyes as he threw another handful of snow at you. You tried to retaliate, but the lightness of the moment swept you both up, and soon you were laughing harder than ever, tangled up in the snow, with no care for the cold or the mess. His golden hair shimmered like a halo in the dimming sunlight, his smile brighter than the wintry landscape, and in that moment, Glorfindel was simply perfect—not as a lord, not as a warrior, but as the playful elf who had swept you into this wintery adventure. The snow settled around you both like a blanket, a soft cushion for your laughter, and for a fleeting moment, all that existed was the warmth of shared joy between the two of you.

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Snowball Fight:

𖤓 The snow was falling softly over the valley of Imladris, blanketing the evergreen trees and rocky slopes in pristine white. The crisp, cool air carried the sound of Glorfindel’s laughter, light and melodic, as he moved effortlessly across the snowy expanse. His golden hair shimmered even in the pale winter light, catching on the snowflakes that drifted lazily from the sky. Despite his layered cloak and boots, he moved with the unearthly grace that only an elf could muster, dodging each snowball you hurled at him with an almost theatrical elegance. He weaved and spun like a dancer, his laughter spilling into the frosty air. “Surely you can aim better than that!” he teased, crouching briefly behind a snowbank. His head peeked up over the edge, bright blue eyes alight with mischief. “What happened to mortal ingenuity?”

𖤓 You launched another snowball, this time a little quicker, but he sidestepped it with ease, throwing his arms out wide in mock triumph. “I fear this is hardly a fair match,” he called out, ducking low again as you sent another flying his way. “You’ll have to be faster, stronger—oh, and a bit more creative if you mean to catch me.” You gritted your teeth, balling another handful of snow with determination. The smugness on his face, even from behind the snowbank, was insufferable—but endearing. Glorfindel clearly delighted in this playful exchange, his golden hair whipping with every graceful dodge, the tips of his pointed ears peeking from under the fur-lined edge of his hood.

𖤓 Then came your moment. He popped up suddenly, perhaps overconfident, intending to deliver yet another smug taunt—but his timing was off. You’d already taken aim, the snowball flying through the air before he even registered it. It hit him square in the chest with a satisfying thud, scattering white powder across the deep blue of his cloak. For a moment, he froze, blinking in mock surprise. Then, with a theatrical gasp, he staggered backward, clutching at his chest as though he had taken a mortal wound. “Alas!” he cried, his voice full of exaggerated despair. “A mortal’s mighty aim has felled me at last!” He collapsed dramatically into the snow, lying sprawled as though the blow had been fatal. “Tell Erestor I died with honor,” he added with a faint, tragic whisper.

𖤓 Your victorious grin faltered just slightly as you took a hesitant step toward him. “Glorfindel?” you called, unsure if he was truly unscathed. “You’re not—” But before you could finish your thought, his eyes snapped open, alight with glee, and in one smooth motion, he sprang up and lunged toward you. You had barely a second to react before he stuffed a handful of snow down the back of your coat. You let out a sharp yelp, the icy chill racing down your spine as you squirmed, trying to shake the snow loose. “Glorfindel!” you shrieked, your indignation only making his laughter more uncontrollable. He fell back into the snow, arms wrapped around his stomach as he laughed heartily, utterly delighted by his victory. His golden hair fanned out around him like a sunlit halo, a stark contrast to the snowy backdrop, as he wiped a tear from his eye. “Ah, forgive me,” he said between chuckles, though his mischievous grin betrayed no real remorse. “But you did challenge me to a snowball fight, and you must know by now—I always play to win.”

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Sledging Adventure:

𖤓 The crisp winter air wrapped around you as you stood at the top of the gentle hill, watching Glorfindel scrutinize the sled in his hands with the intensity of someone preparing for battle. His golden hair glowed in the weak sunlight, and his usual regal composure had been replaced by an almost childlike concentration as he turned the sled over, inspecting its every curve and edge. “You’re sure you’ve got this?” you asked, a playful edge to your voice. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as he adjusted the rope handle, his brows furrowing in deep concentration. He glanced up at you with a confident smile, the hint of a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Of course, meleth,” he said, his voice light but assured. “How difficult could it be? A bit of balance, a bit of speed—simple enough, even for an elf.” His voice carried the same self-assured tone that you’d heard in countless council meetings, as though he were about to deliver some great command or embark on a daring quest.

𖤓 You couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Well, if you say so. But I’ll be here in case you need rescuing.” You winked, leaning against a snow-covered tree to watch the spectacle unfold. With a final glance at you, Glorfindel stepped onto the sled, still looking utterly confident in his abilities. And then, in an instant, the sled lurched forward, far faster than either of you had anticipated. Glorfindel’s eyes widened in alarm as he scrambled to steady himself, his graceful elven reflexes working against him in the face of the unexpected momentum. “Ai, Eru save me!” he yelped, his voice a mix of surprise and panic as the sled bounced erratically down the hill, zigzagging in every direction, its wooden runners scraping against the icy snow with a high-pitched screech.

𖤓 You doubled over in laughter, your breath coming in bursts of mirth as you watched him flail, arms windmilling in a desperate attempt to regain control. His usual composure was nowhere to be found now—he was just as flustered as any mortal in the face of this child’s plaything. Glorfindel’s laughter echoed through the air as the sled careened toward a snowbank, and in the next instant, it collided with the mound of snow with a violent thud. The force sent him flying forward, his body twisting mid-air before he landed headfirst in the soft snow, the sled tipping over beside him with a soft thump. For a brief moment, there was only silence. You couldn’t help but stand there, gasping for air between your uncontrollable giggles, watching as the great warrior—leader of the House of the Golden Flower, slayer of Balrogs—lay sprawled out in the snow like a clumsy child.

𖤓 You hurried down the hill toward him, still laughing, though concern flickered in your eyes. When you reached his side, you found him half-buried in the snow, snowflakes caught in his golden lashes, his face flushed from both the cold and the absurdity of the situation. He groaned, rolling onto his back, and when his eyes met yours, there was no sign of the fierce elven lord you had come to know so well. Instead, his lips were quirked in a half-smile, the familiar gleam of mischief returning to his eyes. “Well then,” he said with mock gravitas, brushing the snow from his cloak, “perhaps I underestimated this mortal contraption.” You stifled a grin, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked down at him. “Still confident?” you teased, the humor evident in your voice despite your concern. “It looks like you might need some practice.”

𖤓 Before you could say anything more, Glorfindel shot you a sly look, and before you knew it, he had grabbed your hand with surprising strength, pulling you down beside him into the snow. With a shriek of laughter, you tumbled onto the soft, cold ground, the world spinning in a swirl of white and gold. Glorfindel lay beside you, both of you laughing so hard your sides ached, snow clinging to your hair and clothing. His laughter, rich and infectious, blended with your own until you could hardly tell where one ended and the other began. After a moment, Glorfindel propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at you with an expression of playful warmth. His breath was warm against your skin, the soft glow of the winter sun catching his golden features, making him look almost angelic in the pure, snowy landscape. His smile softened, and without a word, he leaned in, brushing the snow from your face before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

𖤓 When he pulled back, his eyes were twinkling with a teasing mischief. “Next time, meleth,” he said, voice rich with affection, “we ride together—if only so you can share the blame when we crash.” You rolled your eyes, still breathless with laughter, but before you could respond, Glorfindel sat up fully and reached for the sled, determination flashing across his face once more. “But,” he added, grinning wide, “next time, I will conquer it.”

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Snow Angel:

𖤓 The snow lay undisturbed, glistening like stardust across the meadow as you both collapsed side by side, breathless and laughing from the earlier snowball fight. Glorfindel’s golden hair fanned out against the white ground, a halo of sunlight in the midst of winter’s chill. His cheeks were flushed a faint pink, both from the cold and the lingering laughter that refused to leave his face. He turned his head toward you, his bright blue eyes sparkling with a playful light, and grinned. “Now,” he said, his voice warm and lilting, “it’s time to teach you a proper elvish art form. Snow angels.” His tone was mock-serious, as though this were a skill of utmost importance, but the teasing curve of his lips gave him away. You raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical. “Snow angels are an elvish art form? Really?”

𖤓 “Of course,” he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter. “You mortals think you invented them, but I assure you, we perfected the craft centuries ago. Watch and learn.” Glorfindel stretched his arms wide and began to sweep them through the snow, his legs moving in unison. The sheer grace with which he moved, even while lying in the snow, was almost comical—he made it look as elegant as a dance. After a few moments, he stopped and turned his head toward you, a proud smile on his face. “There. The wings of an angel. Now, your turn.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as you mimicked his movements, sweeping your arms and legs through the snow. Glorfindel watched intently, his golden hair catching stray snowflakes, his expression somewhere between amusement and admiration. He leaned over slightly to adjust the angle of your arm, his fingers warm even through your layers.

𖤓 “Slowly,” he murmured, his voice soft as snow. “You must move like this, see?” He guided your arm gently, his touch firm but careful, his gaze flicking between your movements and your face. “There. Perfect.” When you finally stopped, you turned your head to look at him, triumphant. “How did I do?” He sat up on his elbows, peering down at the two snow angels carved into the ground. One was flawless, its wings sweeping out in perfect symmetry, while the other was… a little crooked. He chuckled, his melodic laughter filling the quiet meadow. “Ah, your wings are almost as radiant as mine,” he teased, his tone light and playful. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Almost.” You feigned a pout, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yours looks better. Are you even trying to make mine look bad?”

𖤓 Glorfindel gasped in mock indignation, sitting up fully now. “Sabotage your snow angel?” he repeated, his hand over his heart as though wounded by the accusation. “I would never commit such a grievous crime.” You opened your mouth to retort, but the mischievous glint in his eye silenced you. Before you could say another word, Glorfindel leaned closer, his expression softening as his voice dropped to a teasing murmur. “But,” he added, his lips curving into a cheeky grin, “perhaps I’ll have to kiss you for forgiveness.” His hands, warm despite the chill, cupped your face with gentle reverence, his thumbs brushing lightly over your skin. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, the world shrinking to the space between you. His lips met yours, soft and warm, and for a moment, the cold vanished entirely. The snow fell gently around you, blanketing the meadow in silence, as if even nature itself was holding its breath for this moment.

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#glorfindel #glorfindel x reader #glorfindel of golden flower #glorfindel of Rivendell #glorfindel headcanons #glorfindel simps #glorfindel supremacy #glorfindel x you #lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr elves

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pfhwrittes · 11 months ago

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for ✨♥️🗡 anon.

a little drabble for the retail hell au. all fluff, no TWs needed i think. female!reader. "love" used as a pet name and john calls the reader a "good girl".

pairing(s): john price x female reader, simon riley x female reader (or even john price x female reader x simon riley if you squint)

600ish words; barely edited again.

-- it’s been a slow start to your shift on the checkouts. your manager for some reason has overscheduled the team, so you’re drifting between the customer service desk which is already covered and the checkouts which is fully staffed. truth be told, you're a little bit confused. you’ve never seen this many people working on front end. you make another slow circuit from the checkouts, offering to take carol off for a break if she wants to, and up to the customer service desk where you chat with megan for a few minutes before a customer wanders over with a bit of receipt paper.

you’re on your way back to the checkouts when john gestures you over to join him and simon where they’ve been watching the checkouts discreetly from the end of one of the aisles.

“y’look bored as fuck” simon states matter-of-factly when you join them. john rolls his eyes and sighs at simon’s bluntness before shooting you a small smile.

“what he means to ask love, is if you’d like to do a job for us?” john’s still smiling at you and you’re very briefly distracted by the way the skin around his eyes crinkles. you wonder if he knows you’ll say yes to anything he asks if he shoots you a smile. probably not. he’s got most of the store a-flutter for his blue eyes and old-fashioned charms as it is.

you twist the bottom edge of your gaudy orange apron between your fingers as you fight against your initial reaction of yes sir, anything you want! and the more sensible approach.

“what’s the job?” you ask, flicking your eyes over to simon who as always looks like he’d rather pull out his own teeth than be standing on the shopfloor. despite his gruff manner, you quite like simon. he’s funny underneath the front he puts on in front of customers and members of management he doesn’t respect.

“babysittin’” simon fires off with a completely straight face, folding his massive arms across his chest. you get the impression that he’s trying to look more imposing that he already does. all it does is pull the slightly dusty black polo top he’s wearing tighter over his massive chest.

“babysitting?” you repeat dumbly. you fidget with your apron again and turn your attention back to john hoping that you don’t look as flushed as you feel.

“i was hoping you wouldn’t mind givin’ simon a hand in the warehouse today, love.” john explains.

“‘specially considerin’ your prick of a manager’s fucked up the schedule.” simon adds with a scoff. “man couldn’t fill out a rota even if the only thing he’s gotta do is sign his fuckin’ name on the top.”

you press your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at simon. he’s right, after all this isn’t the first time your manager has mucked up the schedules, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. he spots the way you tamp down on your smile and his lips tick up in a brief smirk in response.

john reaches up to scrub his hand over his beard and your attention is caught by the way he purses his lips. you miss the glimmer of mischief in his eyes as he clears his throat and you look away hastily to look over at the checkouts.

“so what d’ya think then? gonna give us a hand? hm?”

you nod quickly, aware that carol is glancing over and shooting you a dirty smirk that you hope john and simon haven’t seen yet.

“good girl. follow us then.”

and well, who are you to disagree when john places the flat of his hand on your lower back just above the apron strings and simon becomes a long line of warmth at your side as they walk you towards the warehouse.

#retail hell au #i hope you like this ✨♥️🗡 anon #instead of choosing one or the other i decided to give you both of them #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #dare i say #john price x reader x simon riley #jp #sr #female!reader #✨♥️🗡 anon

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cleabellanov · 10 months ago

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Mischief Managed: a brief post on why we're not alone in loving Lokius (we never are. we have each other. but I mean the producers this time)

Kathryn Blair: writer and script editor, and co head-writer for episode 4: The Heart of the TVA. Here are two of her insta stories, posted both in the same day:

Why this matters? This is basically confirming that when talking to Sylvie in the pie room, Loki compared Thor's love for Jane with his love for Mobius. This was in episode 4, the one she principally wrote.

Natalie Holt. We know Natalie, we love Natalie. In the images below you can see some posts she liked...suggestive, if you ask me

Isaac Bauman. Cinematographer. The same man that talked about how this rainbow:

took months of work to look like that... (like, 🤨🏳️‍🌈?)

Says this about Loki:

Chances are if you're reading this post you agree with me, but if by coincidence anyone thinks he's talking about Sylvie, can you please...open your eyes? Whatever was between Loki and Sylvie passed as quickly as it came, and maybe they remained friends, but...come on, they're not IN LOVE.

And, of course, ❤️Tom❤️

We know he knows. And he's handling it ✨beautifully✨

I know this is basically just...how do you call it? Bread crumb! (yes episode 3 reference pls tell me you get it) But it tells me that even if D!sney and Marvel make the rules, we play the game without them anyway so, yeah, there you go :))

#Marvel #MCU #lokius #loki #comics #lgbtqia

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just-a-creep-babe · 3 months ago

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Grand Opening

(Jeff the Killer x Red) (OC)

Commissioned by @falling-electricxangel -- tysm, I hope you enjoy! And happy birthday to that special someone!! 😉💝💌✨

Masterlist: x

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Rain patters down the mansion’s large double-arched windows

It’s dark and gloomy outside, as it has been for the past couple of days now, with no signs of it slowing down or stopping anytime soon

For the first few days, the rain had been pleasant; it was calm and peaceful, and the constant drumming of water against the roof made for some nice ambient sounds

But it was starting to get old, and at this point, you’re craving some kind of action

In an attempt to distract yourself, you hum softly as you wander through the vacant halls

Surely, you think, there must be some kind of mischief you can stir up~

Without necessarily meaning to, your aimless wandering brings you right down to your boyfriend's room

Door open just a crack, you push it all the way open to reveal Jeff hunched over his monitor, too engrossed in some first-person shooter to notice you

You roll your eyes with a smile

Leaning against the doorframe, you wonder how long it’ll take him to realize he’s being watched

You idly count the seconds ticking by, watching as he unloads a cartridge into another player, and you have to hold back a laugh at the obscenities he hisses in his concentration

He manages to kill a few enemies, but then another player sneaks up on him and unleashes an onslaught of bullets when he least expects it

The screen turns red and he panics, button-mashing like his life depends on it

But even despite his frantic efforts, it doesn’t take long for his health to drop to zero, and he’s quickly met with the dreaded Game Over screen

"Fuck! Fucking shit! I'm gonna cut your fucking guts open and piss in them, you little twerp!"

He throws his controller down and spins around in his chair, only to finally realize he's not as alone as he once thought

You can't help it any longer; you burst out laughing

"Oh my god—you're such a nerd!"

You laugh so hard that tears form in your eyes, and you have to double over and clutch your stomach to stop it from cramping

"Tch," Jeff clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Laugh all you want, that guy was hacking"

His comment only makes you laugh even harder

By the time you’ve gathered yourself, you realize Jeff has his arms folded over his chest and he doesn't look nearly as amused as you are

"I'm glad you're so entertained watching me die," he huffs sarcastically

"Aw, c'mon,” you coo playfully as you approach him, "don't be upset. You'll get 'em next time"

It’s a half-sarcastic, half-genuine comment that leaves him just vulnerable enough to let you sit on his lap

When you run your fingers through his hair, he grunts, and he seems to relax into your touch

"You're lucky I like you," he mutters, "And you're lucky I'm such a good boyfriend, to top it all off, too"

"Aw yeah?" you tease, nails scratching at his scalp, "I'm that lucky?"

"Mmh, that's right,” an unexpected smirk finds its way to the scars in his cheeks as he hums, “You're damn fuckin' lucky, because I'm the best thing you'll ever be able to lay your hands on. Ever"

You snort

"Oh yeah, you think so? You think you're that good?"

He hums again

"Yep. You wanna know how I know I'm that good?"

You arch your brow

Even though it somehow feels like he’s about to trick you into something, you still take the bait and ask

"How?"

"Because I know just what you like and just what you need"

It's your turn to huff sarcastically this time

"That so?"

"Yeah, that's right, sweets. I know you're just about bored out of your mind right now, and I know you need to get out of the mansion after being cooped up for so long. Isn't that right?"

Your ears perk up, suddenly liking where this might be headed

"And," Jeff continues, "being the best boyfriend I am—the best boyfriend ever, might I add—I've decided; I'm taking you to the aquarium today"

"What?! Really!?"

With a smug, self-satisfied grin, Jeff hums

"Mhm, that's right. There's a new one opening in a few weeks not too far from here, and I've blocked out my whole schedule to take you there today. Aren't I just the greatest?~"

"Wait—what? Today? Didn’t you just say it’s only opening in a few weeks?”

Jeff snorts, rolling his eyes

"What? You're telling me you're too chicken shit to break in a little early for our own personal, private grand opening?"

He flashes a dangerous sharp-toothed smile, one you've come to grow so fond of over time, and you find yourself returning a mischievous grin in response

“Oh, I’m so in"

The trees provide decent cover from the rain as you trek through it, and once in the city, you huddle with Jeff beneath an oversized umbrella to avoid getting drenched

There aren't many people milling about in this kind of weather, but the umbrella also helps conceal your identities—just in case someone might recognize you

It isn't long before you end up standing in front of a large vacant building on the outskirts of the downtown neighborhood

The building clearly isn't new, but it's been renovated and expanded to fit its new role, and it gives the whole place a very quaint, rustic kind of charm

You hum appreciatively as the two of you make your way up the front stairs

You act natural, just like you belong, when you check the front door

And when it's, inevitably, locked, you discreetly creep around to the back of the building

The emergency door is also locked, but neither of you lose hope as you spot a window hatch with an old-fashioned locking mechanism

Jeff presses his shoulder against it, testing the lock, and when he realizes he could break through it without shattering the glass, he pushes against it

"Wait—" you stop him before he can force it open, "what if it's alarmed?"

Jeff pauses for a moment to consider his options

But then he shrugs, pushes against it, and rams his shoulder into it

The lock jostles, wood creaking uncomfortably, and with another hard push, the mechanism gives way and the window pops open with a thunk!

Both you and Jeff look at each other

A tense beat of silence passes as you strain your hearing for any kind of alarm system

But when you hear nothing except rain pitter-pattering onto wood and concrete, Jeff gives another shrug

"Oh well, we'll just make a run for it if we hear anyone coming"

With that being said, he climbs through the opening, then reaches back to extend a hand

"How romantic," you tease

As soon as you're in the building, excitement starts bubbling in your veins

"What do you think we should see first? Think they've gotten all the fish in yet?"

"They fucken' better. C'mon—" without letting go of your hand, he starts leading you deeper into the building, "I wanna see if they've got piranhas"

The space you came in through seems to be some kind of employee access

There's a door to the left, a breakroom to the right, and then a long corridor up ahead

Jeff leads you through the corridor without hesitation

And even though it's dark inside the building, you can still see relatively easily, especially with the emergency lights scattered around the place

You walk by some open storage rooms, and with a quick glance inside, you spot various tank-cleaning equipment and different decorations like rocks and plants

The hallway turns, and as you follow along its path, that's when the smell hits you

You gag, pressing the sleeve of your oversized hoody to block your mouth and nose

"The fuck is that?" you cough

Living in the mansion with the kinds of people that cohabit the place, you've grown quite accustomed to foul odors—but this, this is different

Even through your clothes, the smell seems to seep through, and no matter how you try to breathe, it's like you just can't avoid it

Jeff sniffs the air and grimaces

He spots a room off to the side that's sealed off with a thicker, heavier-looking door, and he nudges his head toward it

You both approach it and, surely enough, the smell grows even worse

Jeff, however, doesn't even hesitate to turn the handle and push the door wide open

As soon as he does, the cause of the smell becomes obvious

Dozens of freezers line the interior of the room, each and every one of them filled with dead fish and visceral mush behind their frost-covered windows

There's a large sink off to the corner, which is still stained red with fish guts, and even despite the various cleaning products littering the room, it still reeks

"Oh my god, that's fucking horrible. Close the door, I don't think there are any piranhas in there"

Jeff snickers at your reaction

"Of all the things you've seen and smelled in your life—fish guts are where you draw the line?"

"There’s enough nasty shit at the mansion as is—I'd rather not have to deal with this sorta thing outside of it too!" you retort with a hiss

It almost looks like he’s about to tease you further, but with a chuckle, he shuts the door close with a firm click

You exhale in relief

“Christ, that was horrible”

Eager to put some distance between the stench and yourself, you continue through the corridor until it leads to a set of wide double doors

Jeff pushes it open, and it gives way to the main room of the establishment

And it’s absolutely massive

A reception area with a wide counter stands at the front of the room to greet guests

Posters and decorations are half strung up around the place, the other half still littering the floor and waiting to be put up

Even the ceilings are high, with banners and plastic fish hanging down to give the impression of being submerged underwater

But what immediately catches your attention is the entrance to the exhibit itself

Neither of you say anything, but you’re thinking the same thing—last person to make it there loses

You both dash through the room as fast as you can

The distance isn't all that far, and you both took off around the same time, so there’s no clear winner

But you still rub it in his face that you were faster—because of course you do—and he still argues that he was faster—because of course he does

Your bickering is only cut short when you notice what kind of room you're in

"Woah"

It's only about one-third of the size of the main room, but it's infinitely more impressive

Because instead of walls at the back, there are dozens of massive floor-to-ceiling tanks, each and every one of them filled with countless different species of fish

The tanks have faint lights in them, which almost seem to make them glow, and the way the water refracts the light casts waves against the walls themselves

Combined with the sounds of the rain still pattering against the building, the whole thing makes you feel like you're in one of those dreams you used to have as a kid

It’s almost surreal

You walk to the center of the room and spin around to see every tank at once

And it feels like you're floating, like you're underwater but you're still breathing

Seeing the exhibit without a crowd only makes it all the dreamier

And since they're not constantly getting stimulated by a swarm of guests, the fish seem perfectly at ease

They swim freely near the glass, with none of them hiding or shying away from you

It's one of the coolest things you've seen in a long, long time

You're so absorbed in taking it all in that you don't even notice Jeff isn't paying the exhibit too much mind

Because the only thing he's looking at is you

You rush up to one of the tanks to get a better look at some of the species

A school of colorful fish swims aimlessly among some dark green aquatic plant

The light from within the tank bounces off their scales, and they almost seem to glitter like gemstones in the dark blue water

When you turn your head, you find a long, almost serpent-like fish weaving through the water in the next tank over, and you don't even hesitate to race up toward it next

You don't know if you're merely imagining it, but as you watch it, its eyes almost seem to follow your movement, like it's equally intrigued by you as you are by it

"Hey look," Jeff's voice suddenly snaps your attention back to the room, "this one kind of looks like you"

You turn to see what he's talking about

He's standing next to a tank on the opposite side of the room, and as you get closer, he points next to him

A flat-looking reddish orange-colored fish swims around near some rocks

It somehow has an angry-looking expression, and the way its mouth bobs open and closes almost makes it look like it's complaining about something

You snort

"Funny"

You turn around to look through the tanks again, this time, in search of a fish that resembles your boyfriend

Bingo

"Look Jeff," you call out to him as you walk up to a different spot, "found ya"

You point to what just might, respectfully, be the dumbest-looking fish you've ever seen

Its eyes are wide and empty, like it doesn't have a single thought in its tiny little fish head, and it seems to bob around with absolutely no awareness of its own existence whatsoever

The more you stare at it, the funnier it looks

And when Jeff walks up next to you, you burst out laughing at his expression

The fish also seems to take notice of Jeff, and for a second, the two almost look like they're both confused by one another

"A fish-brain looking at a fish-brain!"

You burst out laughing again

"Ya think you're so funny, don't'cha!?"

Done getting ridiculed, Jeff grabs you, picks you up, and tosses you over his shoulder like a sac of potatoes

"Hey! Put me down!"

You laugh even harder as he smacks your ass, then starts walking off to god-knows-where

"Help! I'm getting kidnapped by a fish-brain!!"

Another smack! has you dissolving into another fit of laughter

"I'm bout to turn you into a chum and eat you if you don't behave!"

"...Promise?"

Smack!

You giggle as he carries you through the room

And you let yourself get carried into another corridor before he eventually sets you back down

The layout of this new room is strikingly different from the last

It's long, but it isn't very wide, and instead of the exhibit wall being separated by a bunch of small tanks, there's a single large tank at the back with a bunch of chairs facing toward it

It doesn't take long for you to notice it; you're standing in front of a tank of predators

"Holy shit"

You step up closer and press your hands up to the glass

Sharks

They're big

Scratch that—they're massive

Long, sleek bodies that move effortlessly through the water, they're pure displays of strength and grace

They're beyond impressive

It's almost like staring at dinosaurs; impossibly old and powerful and utterly deadly

Deeper into the tank, two smaller sharks, which you assume to be younger, playfully nip back and forth at one another

And even though they're considerably smaller than the others, it's still impressive to see their rows upon rows of sharp teeth jut out whenever they open their jaws wide

You lean in closer, the tip of your nose nearly touching the glass to get a better view

There are so many of them

And the tank is, thankfully, huge; it's big enough to comfortably fit about half a dozen sharks, from the looks of it

You're scanning the water in an attempt to find every specimen in the exhibit, when one of the bigger sharks takes an interest in you

It comes up close to the glass, fully facing you, and you swear you can see countless years of wisdom in its eyes as your sights meet

You're so engrossed in the contact that you fully jump when a pair of hands wrap around your waist

The warmth of Jeff's body presses against your backside, his head coming to rest on your shoulder

"I think," he hums, "if we were any kind of fish, we'd both be sharks. Fast, strong, and fearless. Top of the fuckin' food chain—perfect killing machines"

A shiver dances along your spine

You don't know how long, exactly, the two of you stay there, appreciating the beauty of the ancient apex predators before you

If it were up to you, maybe you'd stay there forever

But when you hear a noise echo from somewhere further within the building, both you and Jeff freeze, and you know your time at the aquarium is just about over

"Shit" you hiss, and then you motion in the direction opposite from where the sound came from, "Come—this way"

You expect him to follow along, but instead, he stops you in your tracks by grabbing hold of your arm and turning you to face him once more

"Why run?" he asks gruffly, and as if to prove a point, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his knife

You purse your lips

"Jeff..." you hesitate, your eyes flickering nervously behind him, "there's going to be a grand opening soon, right?"

"So?"

"So I don't want this place to shut down because of a murder; I don't want it to get a bad rep, and I don't want it to lose funding because people are too scared or superstitious to visit"

He seems to contemplate your words, and when he realizes how much this means to you, he gives in with a huff

It's all the response you need as you take his hand and start guiding him through the exhibit

You wish you could stay and enjoy everything the aquarium has to offer, but you know it's only a matter of time before whoever came by realizes you broke in—and you're still inside the building

Rushing through one corridor brings you to the next, which brings you to another room that leads to another hallway

You can almost swear you're starting to hear the echoing of footsteps behind you

You eventually push through a set of double doors, and without meaning to, you audibly gasp at where you've ended up

The gift shop!

Jeff groans

"Red—no! We don't have time!"

He grabs your hand and pulls you away, much to your dismay

"Just—just one quick peek. I'll make it fast, I promise!"

"If you don't want these guys behind us to end up as fish bait, we gotta go—now!"

You're about to protest again when you hear the footsteps getting closer, the sound now accompanied by two voices talking in a panic

“Fine, fuck it,” you mutter

You rush to the exit door, ignoring the various toys, candies, plushies, and trinkets trying to tempt you from every angle

And you successfully make it to the door, where you push it open and escape scott-free

Or, at least, you would, if the damn door didn't jam as soon as you pressed against it

"Fuckin' shit—ain't no feckin' way!"

You jostle the handle this way and that, trying to force it to give, but it's like something's jammed in the mechanism

Somewhere far off behind you, you hear an unfamiliar voice mention something about cops

"Red—the fuck is taking so long!?"

You can hear the impatience and annoyance in his voice, but you can also hear that faint twinge of stress permeating through as well

"It's—it's fucking jammed or something—give me a second!"

"We don't have a second!"

You hear him move behind you as he hisses the words—and you assume he’s going to lock the other door to the gift shop

And right as he's coming back, something seems to snap! off the lock, and the door finally gives way

You stumble out without a moment's hesitation, and Jeff quickly follows after

Your pursuers don't follow once you're outside the vicinity, but it isn't long after that you hear the cops racing by in the direction you were previously escaping from

Both you and Jeff share a look, and then you both laugh with a familiar rush of endorphins that comes from narrowly avoiding the police

By the time you make it back to the mansion, having left the umbrella behind in a panic, you're both drenched

But you're still high from your trip, so you don't even care

If anything, it just makes it all the more memorable

"God," you start as soon as you're through the mansion doors, "I'm gonna need a nice hot shower after all of that"

You twist the edges of your hoody, and watch as a bunch of water trickles out of it, which makes you chuckle

"Agreed," Jeff hums, and when you look over, you can't help but laugh at the state he's in

He looks like a wet kitten; a miserable, angry, wet little kitten

He clicks his tongue

"Ya like laughin' at me, don't'cha?"

You yelp as he grabs you and hugs you, and then he's spinning you around in his arms and he doesn't let you down until you're screaming for mercy between fits of laughter

It's only when he sets you back down onto your feet that you realize there's something strange and lumpy tucked away in his hoody

"The hell do you have in your shirt?"

He grins, like he thought you'd never ask

And then he pulls out a small plushie from underneath his clothes

"Oh my god, no way!"

It's the cutest thing you've ever seen; a small blue shark with a big, pointy-toothed smile on its dorky little face

"Managed to snag it last minute while you were fiddling with the door," he explains

And as soon as he hands it over to you, you hug it to your chest and give it a big squeeze

Even damp, it's still one of the softest things you've ever laid your hands on

"You like it?" he asks

"Of course I like it, I love it!" you exclaim, "How'd you manage to hide it from me the whole time we were getting back"

He shrugs, then holds his arms out for another hug

"Because I'm just the damn best boyfriend ever, aren't I?~"

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #crp #creepypasta jtk #jtk

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astronomyth-art · 3 months ago

Text

Mischief managed 2024 day 13: platonic ship

Prongsfoot movie night ✨☀️

That pillow reminds me of someone 🙂‍↕️

@fadingtostardust

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midnightstay-blog · 10 months ago

Note

hi! from prompt list:

SVT jeonghan fluff 10+36🩷

thanks!

Thanks for being my first request. 😊 I hope you like it. It's my first time writing for Jeonghan. Truthfully I'm still a baby carat for the most part. I hope it's okay that I made it gender-neutral?

💫Sick days ( Requested)💫

Fluff 🌙| Gender neutral reader🌘| Request 💫 | Scenario✨

Genre: Jeonghan x Gender Neutral reader

Theme: Established relationship

Rating: G

Words total: 802

“You’re burning up babe,” Jeonghan stated as he checked your temp for the third time that night.

It had been a few days since you had come home from work complaining of chills and body aches. Your temperature had been in the high for the past two days and it didn’t seem to want to break no matter how much he tried making him more worried than usual. Initially, you had told Jeonghan not to come by afraid of passing the mysterious bug to him and eventually the other members. However, determined to take care of you like the great boyfriend that he was Jeonghan wouldn’t take no for an answer. Fortunately for him though it had snowed the past two days leaving you both snowed in at your place. Not to mention he did manage to bring a bag of assorted meds and soups with him. Digging through the bag he manages to find the 220mg of Tylenol that he had bought the other day. Setting the pill bottle on the bedside table he rises from the bed and walks into the kitchen to retrieve another bottle of water from the fridge before making his way back to the bedroom. Once there he returns to your side and with a brief crack of the lid the water opens. Setting the water to the side he pops open the Tylenol and taps the side of the bottle. Wrapping the blanket around your person you sit up from the bed and take the blue pills from his grasp. Reaching for the water you take both pills before thanking Jeonghan and laying back down. A few moments later you find yourself almost slipping back into a peaceful slumber before you feel another light tap on their leg.

“It’s been a while you should eat something.” Jeonghan stated.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know angel, but you should still eat. It’ll help you keep up your strength.” He urges.

Letting out a deep sigh you nod in agreement before leaning back up against the headboard. “Fine but if I have to eat can it not be soup?” You questioned.

“Sure, anything you want.” he exclaims.

“Anything you say?” You question again this time with mischief in your tone.

A grin makes it’s way on to your features for the first time in a while. Sensing what were about to say he gives you a knowing look.

“Anything but that.” He quickly corrects himself.

“Nope it’s too late you said anything.” You state as you let out a small laugh. “Besides no takebacks.”

“But it’s cold” he wines. “Plus, the nearest convenience store is like a block and a half away.”

“But I’m siiick.” You wine matching his tone. “Plus, I don’t have the ingredients here to make it” “Please” you beg offering him dough eyes.

Not being able to resist he caves and agrees.

“Fine you’re lucky I love you “He stated.

Placing on his winter wear he kisses you on the check before making his way to the store.

Some time later he returns with the ingredients in tow. He even managed to pick up some of your favorite snacks. Setting the bags on the counter he removes his jacket and things before washing his hands and preparing your meal. Once it is complete, he spoons the noodles along with its contents into a bowl and places it on the lightly colored wooden tray before grabbing a second bowl from your cabinet. In that bowl he places a few slices of meat as well as two halves of a soft-boiled egg and one of the snacks. After placing the second bowl on the tray he grabs a can of soda, some utensils, and another bottle of water. He places the other bottle of water under his arm before making his way back to you.

Upon reentering your bedroom, he calls out to you.

“Babe, I got your food.” He states with affection laced in his tone. Not hearing a response, he decides to just place the tray on the other side of the bed before walking over to you.

However, upon reaching your side he notices your sleeping form. He takes a moment to admire your soft features before placing a small kiss on your forehead. Leaning away he briefly places the back of his hand under your chin just to double-check your temp. Noticing that your fever is starting to break he breathes a sigh of relief before deciding to just wrap up your food for you for later. As he starts to pull away you begin to stir in your sleep. In that moment he places his hand on your back and begins to hum softly. After a bit, he manages to exit the room making his way to the couch for the night.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen jeonghan #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #midnightstay blog

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dawneternal · 11 months ago

Text

✨ A Court of Mischief and Matchmaking ✨

Summary: Feyre, the meddling matchmaker, devises a plan to speed up the numerous budding romances in the Night Court. A mischievous human game called 'spin the bottle'

Meant to be silly and fun. Includes a few crack ships.

Post Azriel bonus chapter. Pro-gwyriel and pro-lucien undertones. And pro-the-batboys-have-kissed-at-least-once-before

Rating: Just kissing

Word Count: 4k

Ao3 link

Feyre, ever the observant busybody, had been watching the interactions at family dinners with extra care for a while now. She had noticed a great many things while doing so. She also knew that Rhys, who rarely turned off the spying instincts in his brain, had noticed these things as well. But he did nothing but store them away in case they became important later.

Feyre was not as content to stay idle. Her observations stirred a restlessness within her, a desire to stick her hands into the situation and help. Not necessarily to interfere, but to grant momentum to anything that was already in motion.

Elain, who had once been growing bolder in her interactions with Azriel, had abruptly become quiet in his presence. She still conversed with everyone else, but carefully kept her gaze away from his. Gwyn, however, snuck small glances at the shadowsinger quite frequently, growing in number with every family dinner she attended.

Emerie looked for Mor at every chance, though she hid her disappointment well when the blonde was absent. But Feyre still noticed the slight droop to her wings and the dampened glimmer in her eyes.

The longing in Lucien's own eyes had never ceased, though he had learned that giving Elain any focused attention would only lead to rejection and embarrassment. Feyre could almost see the wilting bond between them, and the golden possibility of happiness if it was allowed to bloom.

Rhysand noticed his mate's expression as she watched it all. The determination, glints of sadness and hope. He smiled to himself, wondering when she would present a plan to him.

And sure enough, after dinner one night, she crawled into his lap as he sat at work in his study, looping her arms around his neck.

"I have a bit of a plan," She said, watching his face while he read the paper in his hand.

"What is that, my love?" He asked, running his fingers over her back with his free hand.

"I want to nudge fate a little bit. Just push it along if I can."

"Is that so?"

"I know you know what I'm talking about," she grumbled, grasping his chin and turning his gaze toward her. He relented, smiling down at her with happy violet eyes.

"Tell me your plan, matchmaker." He hummed, resting his forehead against hers.

"I want to play spin the bottle," She said firmly. Rhys's eyebrows shot upwards as he pulled back to look at her.

"And risk having to kiss any of the others?"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Feyre laughed, "imagine the mischief and tell me it doesn't sound fun."

He had, already. And he agreed with her. But that would not stop his desire to tease.

"Wouldn't it trigger your territorial tendencies to watch me kiss someone else?" He asked her with a sly smile.

"You're the possessive one," Feyre scoffed, "I'm wondering if you can handle it."

"As long as you make it up to me," Rhys whispered, caressing the bridge of his nose along her cheekbone.

Feyre knew this was his permission and agreement to play along. The matchmaker inside her glowed and began plotting with new fervor.

***

"We're going to play a game tonight," Feyre announced to the group, "One that I remembered from the human lands."

It was a rare night when the entire family was all together. Mor had returned from the continent, Lucien had returned to check in, and all three Valkyries had managed to attend. Feyre had waited for a night like this patiently. Nyx laid down after dinner with no fuss, as if he knew his mother's intentions.

Then they had all settled in the living room, a fire in the hearth and various drinks in their hands. Feyre had drawn the furniture in a little closer together, forming a misshapen oval. If anyone had noticed, they hadn't said a thing.

"What game?" Nesta asked, suspiciously, squinting at her sister.

"Spin the bottle," Feyre crossed her arms and looked back at her sister in challenge. She was met with a few laughs throughout the room.

"Oh, we have spin the bottle here, too," Mor snorted, holding her stomach as she laughed.

"But no bottle," Lucien noted, hoping this may deter the shenanigans.

Mor only held up a finger, then grabbed her wine bottle and held it to her lips, downing it in a most unladylike fashion. She set it on the floor in the middle of their circle and slumped back in her chair, wiping the wine from her lip with one hand and pointing at Feyre with the other.

"High Lady goes first," Mor grinned.

"Everyone has to agree first," Rhys said, chuckling at his cousin's eagerness. "Though I'm not above using a High Lord's command. We all know how I enjoy giving Feyre what she wants."

He looked around the room, met with a chorus of reluctant and eager agreements. Cassian and Mor seemed to be the most enthusiastic, as was typical for most proposed games and festivities. Even Gwyn nodded, though she blushed bright pink and fidgeted in her chair. Azriel, though, said nothing. He sat back in his chair with his arms crossed, absolutely glowering at his brother.

"What's the matter, Az?" Rhysand grinned at this brother, "A bit out of practice?"

Feyre cringed, but Rhysand had struck the right cord. Something flashed in Azriel's eyes and he gritted out a "fine."

Amren, however, grabbed her wine glass and retreated to the bay window.

"I'm not playing," she scowled, curling up against a pile of plush pillows. There were a few sad sounds, but no one pushed her. Her Summer Court lover was not here, tonight, and she would have nothing to do with the rest of them. A High Lord's command only seemed to work on her about half the time anyways.

"Alright then," Feyre grinned and leaned down to spin the empty wine bottle, "let the game begin."

They all watched in silence as the bottle spun around and around, rattling against the floorboards, and slowed to a stop, pointing at Lucien.

Feyre and Lucien looked at each other, something akin to displeasure mirrored on their faces. This, of course, was noted with guffaws and cheers from their audience. Feyre did not look at Rhys, knowing exactly what he would say into her mind if she did. Her own words, mimicked back to her; 'It's a risk I'm willing to take.'

So Feyre swallowed her pride and met Lucien in the middle of the circle. Lucien wasted no time, bringing his hand to her cheek and meeting her lips to get it over with. Not much longer than a peck, there was no semblance of spark passed between them. At one point, human Feyre may have jumped at the chance to kiss him. But now that he was involved with her sister, all of that desire had died.

They pulled apart, looking at each other for a moment before both shrugged and returned to their seats. Cassian and Nesta cheered and Mor was laughing again. Rhys's eyes twinkled at her as she turned to sit back down, clearly amused. She snuck a quick glance at her sister and found Elain's face flushed, but her expression was unreadable.

"Your turn," she flashed Rhys a smug grin as she returned to her spot curled up beside him.

Rhysand sighed and spun the bottle. Feyre noted Gwyn's pale face and wondered if she would refuse to kiss the High Lord if it landed on her. To Gwyn's apparent relief, the bottle pointed at Cassian.

Cassian grinned, pulling his arm from around Nesta's shoulder to beckon him. Rhys swaggered across to Cassian with a matching smirk. He stood to the side of the loveseat so as not to block Feyre's view. Hands tangling in Cassian's hair, he leaned in and kissed him. It was certainly not as shy as Feyre and Lucien's had been, quite the opposite. Passionate and almost sloppy, deepening with every second they pulled each other closer. And Cassian's hand slid over Rhys's jaw with an ease and familiarity that made Feyre wonder how often this had happened in the past 500 years.

Very aware of the reactions that had spread throughout the room, they grinned after pulling away. Like the show-offs they were. Rhysand cleared his throat and straightened his shirt, and Cassian merely slid his arm back around his mate's shoulder, meeting her bewildered look with a smug smile.

Feyre wrinkled her nose as she noted the gleam in her sister's smouldering eyes that hinted at her arousal. Amren snorted at the scene from her corner. Feyre's eyebrows raised as her mate turned back toward her, and he flashed her a look that said I'll explain later.

"Gwyn," Rhys gestured to her as he took his seat, arm draping over Feyre's legs.

Gwyn paled again, but swallowed hard and spun the bottle, albeit a bit feebly. Feyre thought she saw the quickest of glances towards Azriel as she did so. Feyre eyed the shadowsinger from her peripheral. He was stoic as always, though one shadow near his ankle was trying to tug away from him, toward the priestess. As if he could barely keep it contained. Interesting.

Gwyn's spin landed on Nesta, and Mor gave a particularly loud cheer. Gwyn's giggling smile was infectious, her bubbling laughter pulling smiles from the whole group's faces, even Amren.

Nesta grinned back at her and crossed the circle before Gwyn could move. She grasped Gwyn's face in both hands and gave her a short but loving kiss, adding a peck to the tip of her nose and forehead. Feyre's heart warmed at the affection they held for each other, deepened by their experiences in the Blood Rite. Nesta's friends were the best thing to come out of her move to the house of wind, and Feyre took no credit for it. Nesta had done it all on her own. Emerie and Gwyn exchanged giggling looks and elbowed each other as Nesta sauntered away.

Emerie was next and she quickly sobered upon realizing. She reached for the bottle and spun, sighing as she waited for it to reveal her fate. The bottle stopped, pointing at Mor, and half the room held their breath.

Mor, slightly tipsy from finishing the bottle, smiled at Emerie with wine-red lips and went to meet her in the middle. It was the most nervous the other Valkyries had ever seen Emerie. She was notoriously unshakable. Her only weakness, apparently, was pretty blondes in low cut dresses.

Mor slid one hand into Emerie's curls and met her lips. It was shy to start, but quickly grew heated as they pulled each other closer, heads tilting to deepen the kiss. Mor grasped Emerie's waist as Emerie's own hand settled on Mor's neck, thumb sweeping across her jaw. Cassian whistled, but they didn't seem to hear it. As their kiss-turned-make-out began to go on just a bit too long, Mor's hand starting to reach below Emerie's waist, Rhysand cleared his throat loudly.

They jumped apart, breathing heavy, looking at each other with glazed eyes. Mor broke into a smile and Emerie laughed as they reluctantly let each other go. Gwyn's eyebrows waggled back and forth as Emerie returned to her seat. Rhys flashed Feyre a look, and in her mind asked is this what you were hoping for? She ignored him, tossing her hair over her shoulder. But she was smiling, too.

They all glanced at Nesta, who looked as if she had hoped no one would realize it was her turn. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, uncrossing her arms to reach for the bottle. Feyre knew better, of course. Her sister enjoyed this sort of game. She saw it as a challenge.

Feyre saw it in her eyes, that glimmer of determination as the bottle landed on Rhys. Rhys blinked, lifting his gaze to Nesta to see what she would do. She gave him a sly smile, the challenger showing through. So, Rhys gathered his own resolve and rose to meet her.

Feyre had gone through the game in her mind earlier that day, knowing who she hoped would be paired, and who she hoped would manage to stay away from each other. Somehow, she had not considered this possibility. Either her sister would devour her mate whole (and not in a good way), or the other way around and there would be no Nesta left at the end. This may not end well.

What Feyre had not expected, was for Rhysand to grab Nesta's face gently in his hands and press a soft, deep kiss to her mouth. But she knew right away why he had done it. Nesta was not expecting the tender, coaxing kiss that he gave her. She had expected him to fight, had grabbed the collar of his shirt in her fists in anticipation of something cruel and bruising.

So when his lips met hers so gently, dragging her into the depths of his night-kissed affection, she lost herself for a moment. Just a moment. The room was full of wide eyes and baited breaths as the pair pulled apart, waiting to see what the fallout would be.

Nesta stared at him through her lashes in a way that revealed the girl in her, slowly unravelling her fingers from the fabric of his shirt. Rhysand smiled back at her, real kindness in it as if to bring her back to herself gradually. It spread into a sly grin, and Nesta blushed, finally realizing that Rhys had won.

She tossed her head in response, not noticing the jealousy that took over her mate's face. Cassian was not very jealous as a general rule. But apparently Rhysand, who Cassian looked up to so much, was one of the few that posed a true threat in the warrior's mind.

"I suppose I can see it," She said, her voice a little unsteady as she waved a dismissive hand toward Feyre.

Of course, Rhysand was absolutely delighted with himself. This was a boost to his ego that he certainly had not needed. When the others were sure that a brawl had been avoided, they burst into howling laughter. Nesta was above it all, looking down her nose at the rabble with her arms crossed once again. Cassian tucked her closer into his side, eyes ablaze.

Then he realized that it was his turn, and he could seize the opportunity to make Nesta jealous in turn. He all but jumped to give the bottle a spin.

The bottle, ironically, pointed to Nesta. Feyre, who had felt Rhys power flicker, looked up at him. He gave her the tiniest of smiles back.

The group let out a collective groan, having been subjected to the couple's displays countless times. Gwyn raised her hand in a preemptive measure, shielding herself from any obscene thing about to happen.

Nesta gave him a warning look, but Cassian did not hesitate to pounce on her, wrapping his arms around Nesta and devouring her with the same fervor he applied to battle. For all Nesta's airs of irritation and impatience, she smiled against his lips as she kissed him back. When they pulled apart, unprompted for once, she was flushed and beaming. No one could hold a candle to her warrior, after all. All of Cassian's jealousy seemed to have washed away.

Next in rotation was Mor, who grinned and stretched her arms above her head, as if to prepare. She spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist, eyes never moving as it whirled around.

And landed on Azriel.

Her eyes snapped up to his, hints of anxiety on both of their features. And of course, the anxiety of the group rippled back toward them, nearly palpable. It annoyed Azriel as hit him like a wave. Like they all thought he would fall apart the second she touched him. Mor looked at him like she was contemplating whether to turn him down. But she saw the twitch of his jaw and understood.

Mor stood and made her way to him, dropping down on his lap as he looked up at her. His hand wrapped around her waist as if on instinct, as if he had thought about what to do in this moment countless times. As usual, his shadows hurried away to hide from Mor's glowing aura. Inside, Azriel was bracing to laugh it off as the others had. Make it a joke, something lighthearted.

But the way she looked at him, eyes glimmering as if she were holding back tears, stirred the deep well of emotions in his chest. She threaded her fingers through his curls, brushing her thumb over his temple as she kissed him. Tenderly, he pulled her in tighter. But there was no longing in their kiss, as the others may have expected. There was an undertone of sadness.

Mor pulled away, resting her forehead against his as her hand slid down to hold his face. Then they locked eyes, something invisible passing between them as they held each other. Feyre blushed a little, feeling like she was peering in on something she shouldn't be. It seemed to be a shared sentiment, everyone but shamless Amren averting their gaze. Feyre did notice that Elain had been looking anywhere else since the moment Mor had stood up. And Gwyn looked as though she was holding her breath. Nothing like jealousy or animosity anywhere on her face, she was only waiting to see what would happen.

When Mor finally untangled herself from him and Feyre could read his face, she found...gratitude? Then she understood, something twisting in her heart at the bittersweetness of it. Mor had been saying goodbye. To whatever had been growing and wilting between them in a perpetual cycle for centuries now. She felt her mate squeeze her hand and she looked at him to see the gleam of a single tear at the corner of his eye.

The tension lifted as Mor returned to her chair and they all realized Elain was next. Elain was sometimes a wild card to Feyre, who had not known if Elain would love or hate this game. But she hadn't turned it down, despite her apparent discomfort when Azriel had chosen the chair next to hers before the game had been proposed.

But right now, Elain had a bit of mischief hiding behind her smile. She gave the bottle a spin and sat back, waiting.

The room was in uproar when it came to a stop on Cassian.

"Did he put a magnet in that thing or something?" Lucien muttered, earning another wave of laughter.

But Elain took the challenge. And it was not the shadowsinger she looked at before making her way to Cassian, nor her mate who was expertly masking any emotion he felt. It was Nesta she glanced at, something haughty in it that insinuated revenge.

Cassian did not have time to react before Elain grabbed the collar of his shirt and hauled him toward her. Her usual temperament was nowhere to be seen, some sly vixen replacing the proper lady. Elain kissed him hard, so hard it pushed him backwards, her lips working against his feverishly. Cassian tried to meet her pace but she had taken him off guard.

She finished her display by pulling his bottom lip between her teeth and releasing his shirt to let him slump back on the couch. Nesta looked at her sister incredulously, too surprised to show any anger. Whatever it was that existed between Elain and Nesta had been leveled, that was certain. Nesta saw her sisters demand for what it was. Don't underestimate me again.

Cassian was still silent with bewilderment, his eyes a little glazed over. Her kiss may have held a message for Nesta, but Elain also reveled in the chance to shake Cassian up a little bit. Rhys broke the stunned silence, howling in laughter at his brother's surprise. It was not very often that Cassian was bested in such a way. He had not expected anything like it from demure Elain. Especially not in front of her mate and the shadowsinger. Which Rhys figured was likely why she'd agreed to play the game in the first place.

Feyre whipped her head toward them, remembering that they existed. Azriel showed nothing, but Feyre figured he may still be sorting through anything that Mor's gesture had brought up inside him. But Lucien...Lucien kept his expression neutral but she could tell he was positively boiling under the surface. She could sense the power coursing through his blood as he tried to keep it in check. Cassian was too distracted to consider Lucien, the typically cordial redhead currently plotting his violent demise.

"Spy master," Rhysand said, easing the attention away from Elain and her mate, "your turn."

Azriel sighed, but did as he was told. He seemed as eager to get this over with as Lucien had been. The room stilled for a moment as the bottle landed between Lucien and Feyre's chairs, pointing straight at Amren on the window seat, half-asleep with an empty wine glass in hand. She realized they all stared at her and shook herself awake.

"I'm not playing," She snapped, curling into herself further.

"Come on, Amren," Rhys goaded. Someone began a chant of her name and soon they were all cheering and coaxing.

Azriel stood in the center, grinning at her, holding out a hand. Perhaps he should have been scared, but there was not anyone else he particularly wanted to kiss. Certainly not during a game in front of a jeering audience. This, at least, could be entertaining.

Amren flipped them off, but set her wineglass on the floor and stepped inside the circle of chairs and sofas. As soon as she was within distance, Azriel snatched her around the waist and dipped her low, pressing his lips to hers in an admittedly very romantic and passionate kiss. It lingered for the perfect amount of time. Long enough for her to process the gesture but not long enough to elicit a punishment from her. He pulled her upright again and let her go, grinning in anticipation of her response.

"Very well, shadowsinger," Amren sniffed and smoothed her dress.

The cheers, laughter, and whistling erupted again, the loudest of the night. Spin the bottle was not typically a game with a winner, but somehow Azriel had bested them all. Despite the dramatic displays of Rhysand and Elain, the spark between Mor and Emerie, the emotion of Mor's goodbye, Azriel had undoubtedly received the highest praise of anyone. Not only had Amren refrained from ripping him to shreds, but gave him a near-compliment and looked a bit dizzy. Of course, that would be going straight to Azriel's head.

Feyre peeked at Gwyn once more. She and Emerie were laughing heartily, but Gwyn's face was flushed, eyes glittering in such a way that the matchmaker wondered if Gwyn would be picturing herself in Amren's place.

There was one more turn to anticipate, tonight. Though everyone knew, including Lucien, that nothing would top Azriel's turn. Azriel wooing Amren would go down in history, now a part of the lore of the inner circle.

Lucien gave the bottle it's last spin, looking a little tired as he waited for it to stop. And then-

"No, absolutely not." Lucien held up his hand as the bottle pointed toward Cassian. Mor was doubled over with laughter and Nesta had to wipe tears from her eyes. Cassian tried to look offended, but was not even effectively holding back his own giggles.

"Game over," Lucien declared as he caught Elain stifling a laugh. He picked up the bottle and tossed it in the trash. The raucous laughter continued, Gwyn and Emerie clutching each other for support. Even Azriel laughed with the rest of them, the tips of his ears turning pink with mirth.

Feyre, quite pleased with herself and the results of her plan, did not argue Lucien. Several courses had been set as a result of her meddling. And she was already planning the next step.

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