#oops i technically missed the day

[doctorsiren]

Today’s textured canvases once again featuring that Legally Mom AU 😁

Miles and Phoenix were never separated, and so they remained best friends through high school and college. They both went to law school, but Phoenix got a BFA and went to law school wanting to defend artistic and creative rights. He also went because he would be bored all day if Miles was still going to school and he wasn’t

Edgeworth actually becomes a lawyer and he works at his mother’s firm

Mia ends up working there instead of at Grossberg’s because it makes more sense that she would work at the firm connected to DL-6 and also uh she would have a woman as her boss lmao (Eleanor ends up becoming like a mother-figure for Mia, and Miles becomes like a younger brother to her)

Since Mia isn’t working at Grossberg’s, she wasn’t involved in the Fawles trial (which was prosecuted by Franziska). Diego was the defense attorney on that one, and he went on a solo mission to investigate Dahlia. He and Mia met and became friends, but Diego kept the Dahlia investigation close to his chest and a secret, partially to protect Mia (since they were friends now and since she was a new attorney and inexperienced). Diego and Mia finally ask each other out one day, and they plan to have a date later that week, but Diego then has to go to a meeting he has…which was with Dahlia…and he got poisoned…and by the time he wakes up, Mia is dead and they never got to go on that first date. He was asleep and unable to protect her, which is why he didn’t tell her about the Dahlia investigation in the first place. He ends up blaming the Edgeworths (Eleanor and Miles) for her death.

Dahlia (Iris) still dates Phoenix since Phoenix and Miles are dummies and have yet to confess their feelings for each other (although Eleanor can tell). Since Mia wasn’t a part of the Dahlia investigation, and since it was handled by a different firm, it didn’t raise any red flags when Phoenix started dating this chick. Phoenix was also in the courthouse library that day because, again, he wanted to go to law school with Miles (subconsciously pulling an Elle Woods).

When the murder of Doug happens, Miles isn’t a lawyer yet since, even though he could have skipped a grade or two, he never did because he didn’t want the increase in social isolation and also didn’t want to get separated from his friends he already had at his grade level. So he’s the same year as Phoenix (senior in college). I think Eleanor would then be the one defending Phoenix (rather than Mia) since she’s also basically a mother to him (he practically lived at the Edgeworth household since his home life wasn’t great, and then he moved in after his mother passed away his senior year of high school. So he’ll call her Mom and such, but he doesn’t refer to Miles as his brother and neither does Eleanor refer to them as brothers since She Knows What They Are [even if they don’t really know yet lmao])

We also figured out that for Turnabout Goodbyes, Eleanor is the one framed for Hammond’s murder since MVK wants to get rid of her as she is still trying to investigate the truth and he can’t have that. Miles has to defend his own mother BUT THEN when Miles starts saying the stuff about how he probably is the one who killed his own father, Eleanor then defends HIM and it’s just…Ough…mother son bonding over murder and death of father 😭😭😭😭

Just some thoughts 😁

[emry-stars-art]

“Now do mers kiss or is this a little surprise nuzzle” i like to think they do both but the idea of them surprising each other with little nuzzles is so dear to me

I think jellyneil does eventually learn how to control its sting but. Andrew you startled him 🥲

[aeb-art]

note: the following is three (almost four) years post-game

okay fine i'll just draw comics for my au since writing is so dang hard smh

anyways welcome to two coins! where loop shows up again but siffrin only got the one hat ending

edit: part two

[daily-foolish]

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER (day 9)

pairing: dark!wanda maximoff x fem!reader + love quinn x fem!reader

summary: wanda and love's rivalry escalates as their dark secrets are exposed, making you confused with your own feeling

warnings: swearing, manipulation, toxic relationships, possessive behavior, and light violence, with references to implied stalking

wordcount: 4.7k (oops)

an: love was the best thing that you had (haha, get it?)

The ANAVRIN's bustling ambiance fills the room as you slide your things into your locker, lost in thought. The early morning glow filters through the windows, casting a calm before the usual chaos begins.

“Morning,” Love's voice breaks the silence as she appears beside you, her presence warm as always. She’s leaning against the locker next to yours, that signature smile on her face as her eyes roam over you.

“Hi,” you respond, a bit shy under her gaze but comforted by her presence.

“How was your weekend?” she asks casually, though there's a perceptive gleam in her eyes, as if she’s already guessed the answer.

You shrug, feeling the weight of the last few days. “Um… It was okay,” you mutter, already knowing she can see through your attempt to brush it off.

Love chuckles softly, her head tilting as she studies you. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” she says, a note of both humor and concern in her voice. She reaches out, her hand lightly grazing your arm. Though she's technically your boss, Love has always blurred the lines, playing the role of friend, confidante, and something you can’t quite place but feel drawn to.

You laugh lightly at her comment, though you feel a little exposed under her unwavering attention. You’ve never had a boss like her; it feels like she genuinely sees you. “Thank you, Love… it’s just—me and Wanda.” You sigh, dropping your gaze. “We had another fight. These past weeks have been… exhausting. We yell over the stupidest things. I don’t even know why.”

Love’s eyes flicker, a subtle shift that you might have missed if you weren’t looking. But the thought of Wanda clearly doesn’t sit well with her. She smooths it over quickly, though, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “You can always talk to me about it, as a friend,” she says with a small smile, her tone soft but laced with an undertone you can’t quite identify.

You nod gratefully, glad to have someone to talk to, someone who isn’t Wanda and who genuinely seems to care. As the morning rush starts, you slip back into your tasks, aware of Love’s frequent check-ins and concerned glances. You tell yourself it’s just her nature to be caring and attentive, she’s just looking out for you.

But not long into your shift, the familiar jingle of the door chime catches your attention. You look up to see Wanda entering, her gaze sweeping the room until it lands on you. Her face softens, though there’s something guarded in her eyes. She steps toward the counter, and Love, who has been by your side, pauses. You feel the shift in the air, the tension radiating between the two women as they exchange brief, forced pleasantries.

“Can we talk, please?” Wanda asks, her voice tense, yet you can sense the urgency behind it.

Love opens her mouth as if to interject but catches herself. With a tight-lipped smile, she turns to you. “Take five,” she says, her tone polite but cool, barely masking the unease.

You follow Wanda out back, already feeling the tension mounting as she folds her arms, her expression a mix of frustration and tenderness. She takes a breath, words swirling in her gaze before she finally speaks, “I can’t keep fighting like this. I just- hate seeing you hurt. I know we’re both stubborn, but…”

She trails off, and before you know it, her hand is reaching for yours. You glance back through the glass door and catch Love watching, she immedietly looks away. You’d always thought Love and Wanda got along, maybe not best friends, but they seemed to tolerate each other well enough, at least for your sake. Any discomfort you’d noticed in the past, you’d brushed off as a result of their contrasting personalities: Love’s calm, watchful demeanor and Wanda’s direct, unfiltered energy.

Out of sight from the main café area, Wanda pauses, her arms folding as she leans against the wall, lips pressed together in a way that tells you she’s searching for the right words.

“Look, I don’t want to make this all… emotional,” she begins, voice soft but steady. “But I’ve noticed you’ve been pretty down. And if I’m even a part of that reason, I want to fix it.”

The sincerity in her tone catches you off guard. You weren’t sure what you expected, maybe just a few minutes of venting or even another apology for your last fight, but seeing her struggle to convey her feelings makes your heart twist.

“Wanda, you’re not… you’re not the only reason. It’s just… there’s a lot,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “Work’s been stressful, we keep arguing, and I just feel so... off lately.”

She reaches out, her fingers lightly brushing over your hand. “I know I can come on a little strong sometimes,” she murmurs, “but I can’t stand seeing you hurting.”

You look up into her eyes, that familiar warmth washing over you, grounding you. “I know you care,” you say softly, hoping she hears the sincerity in your voice. “And I care about you too. I just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

A quiet tension builds between you, that pull you’ve always felt with Wanda, the same one you try to ignore whenever Love’s around, even if you don’t fully understand why. But here, just the two of you, it feels easier to let go, to melt into her touch even if only for a moment. She leans in, her voice barely a murmur, “Then let’s just take it slow. I’m here, okay?”

Her hand gives yours a gentle squeeze, and in her gaze, you feel a promise - a promise to try and ease your worries. But as you glance toward the door, you wonder what it would be like to have both of them in your life without the weight of unspoken words.

Little do you realize that Love, watching through the doorframe, feels the same way.

As Wanda strides away, leaving a faint scent of her perfume in the air, you exhale, a little drained. Love watches you closely before stepping over, her expression gentle, almost too careful. "Are you okay? You two seemed… intense,” she says, her voice warm but laced with a quiet curiosity. She tilts her head, her eyes scanning your face as if she’s searching for any signs of distress.

You nod, giving her a small smile. “Yeah, we… we’ve just been going through a rough patch, that’s all. You know how it can be.”

Love’s gaze softens as she listens, her concern unwavering. “It must be hard,” she murmurs, her voice sympathetic as her hand finds its way to your arm, lingering a moment longer than usual. “I mean, when you care so much about someone… it’s easy to give them chance after chance, right?”

You glance away, feeling the weight of her words. Love always seems to understand in ways that few others do. It’s comforting… almost too comforting.

You begin to say something, but Love’s voice cuts through the quiet between you, catching you off guard. “You know, you’re always so quick to forgive her.”

The comment stings, piercing through the empathy she’s shown until now, leaving you caught between confusion and defensiveness. You furrow your brow, turning to her, startled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Love shrugs, her gaze steady but tinged with something that’s hard to place. "I just mean… Wanda knows exactly what to say to get back into your good graces. And maybe… maybe you don’t make her work hard enough for it.”

Your expression shifts from hurt to anger, and you step back slightly, crossing your arms. “I’m not… Love, you don’t know anything about me and Wanda.”

She raises a brow, the hurt in her gaze replaced by a challenging glint. “Maybe I don’t,” she mutters, her tone sharper now, “but someone who cares might want you to think about what’s really best for you.”

“That’s enough, Love,” you reply firmly, struggling to keep your voice even. “I appreciate your concern, but this isn’t your business.”

The air between you both grows thick, her comment hovering like a weight neither of you wants to carry. You turn back to your work, focusing intently on the task at hand as if it’ll clear the tension between you, but the sting of her words lingers all the same.

Hours later, as you’re gathering your things to leave, Love reappears, her gaze softer, hesitant. She steps forward, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier… I didn’t mean to cross a line. I just…” She pauses, looking away. “I care about you."

Surprised, you look up, the anger fading from your features. “Thank you, Love,” you reply quietly, nodding, accepting her apology even though you’re not quite ready to shake the feeling her words left behind.

She watches you, her expression filled with something deep and unspoken before finally letting you go, her figure lingering in your mind long after you’ve left.

Later that evening, as you step into your apartment, Love’s words linger, filling the silence around you. You slip off your shoes and drop your bag, replaying the edge in her voice: “Maybe you don’t make her work hard enough for it.”

For the next few days, you go about your routine, but every time you think of Wanda, Love’s voice filters through, reminding you that perhaps there’s more to this than you’ve let yourself admit. So when your next day off rolls around, you find yourself reaching out to Wanda, determined to clear the air. She agrees to meet, and soon enough, the two of you are sitting on your couch, the tension between you palpable.

“Wanda…” you start, shifting nervously as you try to find the right words. “Last time you were here, you really hurt me. And honestly, I don’t want to feel like I’m just here whenever you need a stress relief.”

Wanda’s eyes widen, the surprise flickering across her face quickly replaced by a look of hurt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you felt that way.” She reaches out, her hand stopping just inches from yours. “I never meant to make you feel… used.”

You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to keep going. “I know. But sometimes it feels like you’re so wrapped up in what’s going on with you that you don’t even see me. And I’m here, trying to be supportive, but… I have limits too, Wanda. Sometimes you need to back off and think about how you’re making me feel.”

Wanda blinks, visibly taken aback by the directness she’s not used to from you. She furrows her brow, then asks softly, “Did Love tell you that?”

The question catches you off guard, and you stare at her, feeling both defensive and a little hurt that she’d assume you couldn’t come to this on your own. “No, Wanda,” you reply, shaking your head. “I don’t need Love to think for me. This is how I feel. I just… I need you to understand that.”

The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken things as Wanda absorbs your words. She looks away, fidgeting, then nods slowly. “I understand. I’ll try to… be more considerate. Just… don’t think for a second that you don’t mean everything to me.”

You lean back, a mix of relief and lingering tension settling over you, hoping this conversation might finally be a step toward something better between you both.

Over the next few days, the air between you and Wanda grows lighter, though you’re still nursing the weight of everything that’s been said. You try to move past it, but just when things begin to settle, Love steps back into the picture.

One afternoon, you’re finishing up a shift at ANAVRIN, and Love catches you at your locker, leaning in with her usual nonchalant confidence. She smiles as you shut your locker, but there’s a knowing edge in her eyes.

“Hey,” she says casually, “how are things with Wanda? Better?"

You hesitate, realizing that Love has been watching a bit closer than you thought. “Yeah, it’s… getting better,” you say, offering her a cautious smile. “We talked, and I think it helped. I just need her to understand me more.”

Love’s smile flickers with something unreadable, and she tilts her head. “Are you sure about that?” Her tone is careful, but there’s an underlying tension. “I don’t mean to push, but maybe you’re putting in too much energy trying to change her.”

Your brows furrow at her words, feeling the defensiveness flare up. “It’s not about changing her,” you say softly but firmly. “It’s about finding a balance. You don’t understand, Love. She´s my friend."

Love studies you for a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I just… I hate to see you giving so much to someone who might not deserve it.”

Her words hit a nerve, leaving a strange chill lingering between you. Before you can respond, you’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You turn and find Wanda standing nearby, her gaze sharp, having clearly heard enough to sense the tension.

“Am I interrupting something?” Wanda’s voice is tight, eyes flicking between you and Love.

Love straightens, her face slipping into a composed expression. “Just checking on her,” she says smoothly. “Making sure she’s… okay.”

Wanda’s jaw tightens, her tone laced with irritation as she shoots Love a withering look. “I think that’s something I can handle myself, Love.”

“Oh?” Love’s expression hardens as she crosses her arms. “Because from what I’ve seen, you’re not exactly an expert at that.”

The tension grows electric, neither of them backing down as you glance between the two. Before you can diffuse the situation, Wanda’s eyes lock on you, a hint of vulnerability there that you rarely see.

“You really talk to her about us?” she asks, and there’s a raw edge to her voice, like she’s seeing you and Love in a whole new light.

You swallow, not expecting things to escalate this way. “Wanda, it’s not like that. Love’s… a friend.”

“A friend?” Wanda scoffs, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Feels like she’s trying to be more than that.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Love speaks first, her voice calm but cutting. “Maybe if you listened to her more, you wouldn’t need to worry about me.” She sends Wanda a challenging look that practically brims with contempt.

Wanda steps closer, her voice dropping as she replies, “You think I don’t listen? Unlike you, I’m not just waiting around to swoop in at every opportunity.”

The silence crackles with a bitter tension that leaves you feeling torn, and you step back, putting space between them. “This… This isn’t about either of you. I need some air.”

Without looking back, you walk away, your heart pounding as their glares follow you. You didn’t expect things to spiral this way, yet here you are caught in a silent battle between two people you care about, each of them desperate to win you over, neither willing to back down.

You step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you breathe in deeply, trying to clear the whirl of emotions churning in your mind. You lean against the side of the building, replaying everything that just happened, and it finally dawns on you... the lingering looks, the pointed comments, the way Love and Wanda both push for your attention. They don’t like each other. At all.

Inside, the tension that was barely contained finally snaps.

“So, what exactly do you think you’re doing?” Wanda hisses at Love, her voice low but edged with venom.

Love’s smile is icily calm, her eyes narrowing as she looks Wanda up and down. “What I should’ve done a long time ago, looking out for her. Unlike you.”

Wanda scoffs, folding her arms. “Looking out for her? Please. You’re just manipulating her, making her doubt things that aren’t even true, all so you can swoop in and play the hero.”

“Oh, really?” Love’s voice is cool, but the anger behind it is unmistakable. “I wouldn’t have to play the hero if you weren’t so damn toxic. She spends more time stressed and hurt over you than actually happy. You can’t even see how much you drain her.”

Wanda clenches her fists, her face a mix of frustration and hurt. “She and I are working on things, actually. We’re honest with each other, something you wouldn’t understand. You just worm your way into her head, telling her things, making her question me. You’re not helping, you’re just waiting for her to be vulnerable enough to leave me.”

Love shakes her head, her expression turning scornful. “You’re so blinded by your own jealousy that you can’t even see how she feels. You think I’m the problem? You’re the one who makes her cry, who gets her tangled in fights over nothing, making her feel like she has to walk on eggshells.”

Wanda’s glare sharpens. “Maybe I’m not perfect, but I’m not pretending to be something I’m not. At least I’m honest with her. You? You’re just pretending to be her friend while clearly trying to be something more.”

Love’s eyes flash with irritation, her voice dropping dangerously low. “Maybe if you actually listened to her instead of seeing everyone as a threat, she wouldn’t feel the need to talk to anyone else. But go ahead, keep smothering her with your jealousy. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

The words hang between them, heavy with resentment and unspoken threats. Just as Wanda opens her mouth to respond, the door creaks open, and you step back in, oblivious to the bitter exchange that just occurred. Both women immediately compose themselves, though the tension in the room is almost palpable.

Your eyes flick between the two, noticing the stiffness in their postures, but you push the feeling down, deciding not to ask. Instead, you give them both a small smile, hoping it might ease whatever’s still hanging in the air.

But even as they return your smile, each one’s gaze lingers on the other, full of silent challenge, both of them waiting for you to make a choice neither of them is willing to make for you.

You feel both pairs of eyes on you, waiting, practically pleading. The silence stretches long enough that you have to fill it, even if you’re unsure how. Heart pounding, you finally look up, meeting each of their gazes in turn.

“Look… I can’t keep doing this.” Your voice wavers, but you press on. “I care about both of you, more than you probably realize, but I’m not going to choose. I can’t. And I won’t.”

Wanda takes a step closer, an edge of desperation in her eyes. “(Y/N), please… You don’t have to make this harder than it is. We both know this… this thing with Love-”

“It’s not just some ‘thing,’ Wanda!” you interrupt, shaking your head. “Love is my friend. And so are you.” You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, but the way they’re both watching you makes it feel impossible. “You know, you’re both so focused on being right that you’re not seeing the harm this is doing to all of us. And I’m not going to be the one to… I won’t be the one to choose sides.”

Love steps forward, her expression a mix of regret and something harder, a bitterness that lingers beneath the surface. “I understand this is complicated, (Y/N), but you don’t know the things Wanda has-”

“Don’t start with that,” Wanda snaps, cutting her off. “I think we both know you’re the last person who should be telling her who’s honest and who isn’t.”

Your heart sinks as they start again, the accusations firing back and forth as though you’re not even there. “That’s enough!” You raise your voice, and both of them fall silent, startled. “Do either of you even realize what you’re doing right now?”

They exchange a look, an unspoken challenge, raw and unyielding, but you press on, needing them to understand. “Maybe… maybe I should have seen it before,” you say slowly, “but now it’s impossible to ignore. You don’t like each other. You don’t respect each other. And you keep dragging me into it.” You look away, the hurt and disappointment almost too much to hold back. “I can’t keep playing referee in your fight. This- whatever you two have going on- it’s between you. Not me.”

Wanda looks away, frustration lacing her features, while Love’s gaze is fixed on you, sharp but softening, a hint of remorse in her expression. You turn back toward them both, fighting the knot tightening in your throat. “I need time,” you repeat, each word feeling heavier than the last. “I’m not going to let this tear me apart. I don’t want to choose between you… so I’m not going to.”

There’s a long, agonizing silence. You see Wanda’s mouth open slightly, as if she wants to protest, to say something, anything to pull you back. But she doesn’t, and in the tense stillness that follows, it’s clear no one knows what to say. You turn and walk away, feeling their eyes on your back, a weight that lingers long after you’re out of sight.

Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself moving through ANARVIN almost like a ghost. You keep to yourself, speaking to Love only when it’s necessary for work and brushing off Wanda’s attempts to draw you back in. It’s as though an invisible line has formed between you and them, and they both know not to cross it.

But where your silence holds steady, the tension between Love and Wanda only grows. A rivalry that was once subtle has turned sharper, each of them moving in calculated steps as if maneuvering through a chess game. Love, with the quiet authority that comes from her family’s power, taps into her resources. She reaches out to a few discreet contacts, digging deeper into Wanda’s life than ever before, searching for anything that could expose her.

And after days of searching, she finds it, things that have never been made public. Enough to put cracks in the polished image Wanda has worked hard to build.

But unbeknownst to Love, Wanda’s own curiosity about her doesn’t waver. She’s watched the doors Love keeps locked, the spaces that others are told to ignore. And when she finally finds a lead, a whisper of a secret room that Love has kept hidden... she knows she has to see it for herself.

But you, unaware of the growing conflict, focus on getting through each day at ANARVIN without allowing yourself to get caught up in the weight of what they’re both fighting for.

The basement was quiet, each step Wanda took echoing against the concrete walls as she moved further into the dark, empty corridors. She’d followed Love down here once before, noticing how she’d disappear for hours under the pretense of inventory or “managing the back-end.” But tonight, she was here alone, and as she found the door, hidden behind a stack of crates, she pushed it open, revealing a room she never expected to see.

It´s a cage, thick, impenetrable glass, with only a single, reinforced door, a grim testament to someone’s twisted sense of control. Wanda moved forward, pressing her hand to the glass, eyes narrowing as she took in the sterile, unfeeling space. The room seemed like a relic of the disturbing tales she’d heard about Love, though even she hadn't imagined something like this.

She lingered there, running her fingers along the edge of the door’s handle, when she heard footsteps approach. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was Love.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you’d be giving yourself a tour,” Love said, voice dripping with false charm. She let the door close softly behind her. “It’s private property, you know.”

Wanda chuckled, feigning casual interest as she turned around, meeting Love’s intense stare. “A cage, huh? Even I didn’t peg you for the kidnapping type, Love,” Wanda taunted, crossing her arms. “Seems like you’re hiding more than I thought. What exactly do you need this for?”

Love’s smile dropped, her eyes narrowing. “I could ask you the same, Wanda. Or should I say Scarlet Witch?” she bit back, leaning against the glass as she sized Wanda up. “Don’t think I don’t know about your past. Sokovia, all those people who suffered because of you. What was it you called it...collateral damage?”

Wanda’s face hardened, her jaw clenching as Love brought up memories she’d worked hard to suppress. “At least I’m not locking people up in glass boxes, Love. It’s sick.” Her tone was deadly serious, eyes glinting with both disgust and a hint of pity. “Do you think this-” she gestured to the cage, “will make you feel better? More in control?”

Love took a step forward, her voice calm but with a dangerous edge. “I’ll tell you one thing, Wanda. At least I don’t hide behind a mask, pretending to be the perfect friend, while secretly undermining everyone around me. All this time you’ve been trying to twist things, make me look unstable, but I see you for exactly what you are.”

“Funny,” Wanda replied, her voice low and venomous, “because I see you too, Love. A desperate little girl who can’t bear to share anyone’s attention.”

Love’s fingers clenched, but she kept her expression steely. “You think you can intimidate me, Wanda? You’re just a washed-up girl trying to fit into a world that doesn’t want you. But here,” she gestured around the room, “I make the rules.”

The two women stood there, each daring the other to make the next move, knowing that whatever came next would only fuel their growing animosity. Neither one was willing to back down, and the stakes had just become infinitely higher.

Wanda’s voice was icy as she held Love’s gaze, her fingers curling into fists. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing right now, don’t. It’ll be a mistake, Love. One you won’t walk away from.”

Love’s lips twisted into a smirk, feigning amusement. She pushed herself off the glass and stepped forward. “You think you can scare me, Wanda? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed, refusing to step back even as Love’s gaze darkened. “Oh, I know exactly who I’m dealing with... a sad little girl with too much money and not enough sense. You’re playing a game, Love, but you don’t know the rules.”

“Is that right?” Love replied, her voice venomous. “And what are you, Wanda? Just some bitchy manipulator trying to act like she’s any better?”

Before Wanda could respond, Love lunged forward, shoving her back against the glass. Wanda met her aggression head-on, grabbing Love’s arms to keep her steady as they glared at each other, breaths shallow and quick.

“Careful, Love,” Wanda warned, voice low and filled with a barely restrained fury. “Keep this up, and you’ll lose everything.”

Love’s smile was unsettling, her voice sharp as a blade. “I’m not the one with something to lose, Wanda. You know how easily people believe the worst in you. And if I say the word…”

But before she could finish, Wanda twisted her arms free and pushed Love back, sending her stumbling a few steps. They stood there, glaring daggers, both seething but unwilling to take it any further. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. They knew it and they knew each other well enough to know this fight was only beginning.

Later that night, as you settle onto your couch, phone in hand, the weight of the day pressing down on you, your screen lights up with a message from Wanda.

“Can we meet? I miss you."

A familiar warmth flutters in your chest at Wanda’s name, but a shadow of doubt creeps in, lingering at the back of your mind. You hover over the screen, reading the message again, and your thoughts turn back to Love. If you say yes to Wanda, you have to let Love in as well. You can´t just let one stand outside.

But...

Is this really Wanda reaching out to you? Or is it Love, using Wanda’s phone?

It wouldn’t be the first time Love would do such a thing.

Yep, I need them both. :) also is it obvious, that im in my love quinn era? yeah? good.

Thank you for reading!!!

[selfcarecap]

Backseat [j.p]

pairing: Javier Peña x reader

summary: When Javi has to work late, you visit him to help relieve some stress during his break. Or, as Lana said: let’s get in the back of your cop car officer <3 (kinda)

warnings: my first Javi fic omg and first fic in general in like one and a half years sooo, smut (public sex technically (in/next to a car) but no one sees them don’t worryy, p in v, unprotected, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk (only from Javi though, reader barely says a thing oops) excessive use of ‘baby’, use of ‘good girl’, Javi comes on reader’s belly and face, established relationship, not tooo much aftercare but they’re both fine with it, Javi taps (not slaps) reader’s cheek during sex), I assume that’s clear but this is about the fictionalised version of him lol, brief mention of the reader’s (harmless) crush on Steve lmao, cute and romantic Javi

word count: 2.8k

The threat of rain lingers in the cool air as Javi takes you to his car, his greedy hand placed on your ass as you walk. He’s parked at the other end of the parking lot next to the station, in a roofed corner with walls on the sides shielding it, and no other vehicles in sight. He did say he’d make sure no one would see you.

You haven’t had sex in a few days, both busy with work and other things, and you were looking forward to him finally fucking you again come Friday night. When he called you to say he had to stay at work at least a few more hours, you knew you’d have to go to him if you still wanted sex today. Otherwise Javi wasn’t coming home before you were fast asleep, and you couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

Javi was on board as soon as you asked if he had a few minutes to spare; he knew what your tone meant immediately and he missed the feeling of you naked in his arms as much as you did.

He unlocks the car and pushes the front seat forward to make more space in the backseat. You sit down in the back and grin, pulling him into the car by his jacket.

“Wait, baby, we better do it like this,” he says, pulling your legs to the side of the seat, the car door still open as he spreads you out on the backseat.

“You want to fuck me with the door open?” You ask.

“It’ll make it less obvious what we’re doing, and I can fuck you better like this.” You take in the position of him standing next to the car and think of him squeezing into the backseat with you instead. He’s probably right. You don’t mind as long as he gets on with it.

Javi takes off his leather jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, “You warm enough?” 

You nod. The comfort of the car and the corner it’s parked in and, more importantly, the promise of Javi’s warmth provide a pleasant coziness. With a grin on his face, Javi finally bends down to kiss you, and you immediately push your tongue into his mouth.

“We gotta hurry up, you think you can do that?” Javi asks between kisses, and you nod desperately. As if you didn’t come all the way to the DEA station after your own draining workday just to get fucked. You’ve been waiting for this all week.

He pushes his thumb between your lips and you drool around it immediately. You respond to his questioning expression with an enthusiastic nod as he finds the hem of your short skirt and pulls your panties to the side. His wet thumb on your clit makes you gasp and arch into him. You can definitely make this quick.

Javi smirks at you, “You been waiting for this as much as I have? I’m all ready for you, baby, just tell me when you’re ready”. He kisses you and continues to rub circles over your clit as your pussy gets wetter and wetter, and you let out an incoherent string of sounds that’s supposed to let him know you’re ready.

He pulls back from the kiss and gently takes your face in his hand, squishing your lips into a pout, “What was that? You know that’s not enough for me. Need you to properly say it.”

You look up at Javi through your lashes, licking your lips, “Yes, I’m ready, Javi. Please fuck me.”

His face breaks out into a grin, “See, wasn’t that hard, was it? Or are you already too horny to speak?”. All you can focus on is his big fingers that have started fucking you, so you know better than to try and give an intelligible answer that would only come out as gibberish anyway.

Your stomach somersaults when Javi undoes his belt, the clang of metal making your pussy throb. You reach down to pull your panties down your legs, and seeing the wet spot on them makes you even more excited for what’s to come. Javi pushes your legs up against your chest with a hungry groan, and bends down to press a kiss to your pussy. 

He decides to stay between your legs for a bit longer when he hears you sigh as he starts to lick sloppy circles against your clit, the taste of your wet pussy making him want to stay there forever.

“Javi,” you mumble, almost sounding as if you’re tipsy. You could easily cum from his mouth on you, but you know you don’t have much time before he needs to get back to work, and you need him inside you now.

He leans down to quickly kiss you as he unzips his jeans, and you break the kiss to look at his hard cock.

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” you repeat before he can ask you to say it again. You lie back but he stands up straighter to scan the area and make sure no one’s there to see and you slump against the backseat, lying down. 

You lean your head to the side impatiently and catch the scent of Javi in the jacket of his that you’re cuddled up in, and it makes you want him even more. He laughs when you reach out your hands to him and he finally puts his hands back on your body, grabbing you to pull you to the edge of the backseat. The space is tight, the car door opened as wide as it can be as he stands next to the car facing you, but he’s making it work.

Javi spreads your legs and stands between them, casting one last glance above the car, “We’re good but we still have to hurry before someone sees us,” he says and you grin, ready for him to finally finally start, but he takes your grin as something else.

He smirks as he puts a hand on your jaw to make you look into his eyes, “You like that, baby? You want someone to walk in on you getting fucked, huh? Maybe Steve… I know he’d like that. What do you think?”

You slap his hand away and fake-gasp; he’s been teasing you about your ‘crush’ on Steve ever since you made an offhand comment about him being attractive.

“Just want you,” you mumble, half wanting him to know he’s the only one you want to be with, and half bashful because, well, Steve is attractive.

Javi grins and leans down to kiss you, simultaneously sneaking a hand up your skirt again, “Don’t worry, I know that. I can feel how wet this pussy is just for me. Could get lost in you forever.”

“Then do,” you say, craning your neck forward as he slaps his cock against your clit. You start to open your mouth a bit. You just want one brief taste before he fucks you. He looks at you and gently pushes you to lie back down, and you pout. 

“That has to wait until tomorrow, baby. You know I won’t be able to stop if you wrap those pretty lips around me,” he says and strokes his thumb across your cheek. You smile, satisfied knowing the effect you have on him.

You spread your knees as wide as you can in the small space, Javi stepping as close to the side of the car as he can.

“You ready?” He asks one final time, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your wet and aching pussy.

“Mmhm, yes,” you moan, your fingers reaching down to spread your lips for him. Javi adjusts his position and pulls one of your ankles over his shoulder and decides to give one last glance to your surroundings to make sure no one will interrupt him fucking you, even though, right now, you couldn’t care less who sees. His hard dick that rests between your legs and pulses against your clit is enough to make you forget about every other thing in the world.

“So needy, baby,” he taunts when you sigh dramatically to get his attention, and you can tell he tries to tease you a bit more but ultimately gives in after a few seconds and pushes his cock into you. It slides in all the way with how wet you are, and you let out a desperate noise that’s muffled by Javi’s mouth slotting over yours. 

He puts one hand on your hip to direct your body better and his other hand holds the side of your face as he caresses it, “Don’t mind you being needy though, baby, so am I. So glad you came, spoiling me with your pussy during my break. I could get used to this, you know?”

His eyes close in pleasure as he starts to fuck you, “Always so tight for me,” he says, voice strained. Every time his hips drive into yours is accentuated by the loud sound of your wet pussy, taking every inch of your boyfriend’s cock as he ruts into you like he hasn’t fucked you in months.

“‘M not gonna last long so you better be quick, baby, yeah? Can you do that?”

You nod quickly, unable to form words and he grins devilishly when only a few sounds of pleasure make their way out of your throat. 

“God, I love when you get like this, all speechless because you‘re too horny for me. Love how you take my cock, you’re so fucking tight”, he roughly taps your cheek three times and you lean into his touch, into the sting, as he fucks you harder. 

He grabs your face more roughly and you moan as he continues praising you, “Always so fucking pretty for me, oh my— god”, he changes his pace and you feel the difference too, heat building up in your lower belly, the pleasure all flowing into the space between your legs that he’s fucking with what feels like all his strength. Javi puts two fingers in your mouth and you eagerly suck them, your mouth full, drool starting to spill from your lips. 

“Fuck,” he moans, and starts hastily rubbing your clit with his other thumb, his wide body keeping your legs apart, “You wanna cum for me, baby? Being such a good girl for me.” 

You moan as your orgasm washes over you, your pussy squeezing tightly around Javi and he fucks you through your waves of pleasure, “That’s it, that’s my girl, my good fucking girl”, he speaks to you through almost gritted teeth, trying desperately not to cum until you’re finished.

He can feel the exact moment it gets too much for you, taking his hand away from your clit but he continues fucking you, his hips relentless against yours.

“Show me your tits, baby,” he asks with a hoarse voice, the wetness of your pussy pooling between you both. You messily pull up your shirt, exposing your tits to the cool air, still feeling weightless and slightly out of your mind from your orgasm. He takes his hand from your mouth and greedily grabs one of your tits. He smirks seeing you bare under your top and starts playing with your nipple, making you arch your back.

Javi pulls out of you and strokes his cock only a few seconds before he’s spurting cum all over your belly and chest. As you greedily strain your neck to see every single drop that he’s cumming you get closer to him and some of his cum lands on your lips and cheek.

“Fuck,” you both moan into the space between you as Javi jerks off until he’s drained, and you quickly push your hand between your legs, rubbing your once again pulsing wet pussy.

Javi sees your hand on your pussy and slaps his still hard cock against your clit a few times. He then gently pulls your hand off yourself and replaces it with his mouth as he bends down to suck on your clit. Incoherent words leaving your lips, you grab Javi’s hair and grind your pussy against his face, your thighs around his head.

It only takes a few more moments of his tongue on your clit until you succumb to the weightlessness of your second orgasm as it shoots through you with a new intensity.

You let your legs fall around Javi's shoulders when you’ve finished and smile at him looking back up at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. He shakes his head, unable to believe you just did this, right here and during his work break. It definitely won’t be the last time.

He stands back up and wipes the cum from your face with the pad of his thumb and you suck it off him until your face is clean again.

“I’m so happy you're mine, baby. Only mine,” he says before attacking your face with wet and sticky kisses. He tucks himself into his pants and gets baby wipes from the pocket of his jacket that you’re lying on. 

“Did so good for me, baby,” he praises as he wipes your belly and tits, leaving kisses there after. He gently wipes over your face again, just to make sure, and cleans you up between your legs.

Afterwards, he pulls your clothes back in place and kisses you as he leans down over you in the backseat. You wrap your legs around his waist and let him just hold you, and you let out giggles as he kisses you all over your face again. You brush your hands through his hair to tame it, and just when you’ve deemed him presentable you hear Steve’s voice from not too far away.

“I’ve been looking for you. Break’s over,” he walks around the corner and sees you in the back of the car.

“No sex in our car,” Steve slaps Javi on the back and moves to the front of the car. He gives you a look when he sees the seat pushed all the way to the front.

“We were just cuddling. I missed him,” you say in an innocent tone and Steve seems to buy it, or at least pretends to, and pushes the seat back and sits down, pulling the door shut.

You give Javi a wide-eyed look at how close that was and he grins back, pulling you to sit upright. There really are worse people to walk in on you than Steve, but you’re still glad that he was a few minutes too late. 

“We’re driving you home,” Javi declares, and makes Steve get in the back and sits you in the front. It’s not until Javi drives away from your little corner with the roof and walls protecting it that you realise it must have been raining for a while.

It’s a lot colder now and the streets are wet, a steady flow of rain pouring from the clouds. You pull Javi’s jacket around you closer and already dread having to give it back to him when you’re back home and he has to leave to work some more. 

Once the car stops in front of your house, Javi walks you to the door. You pout but part with the jacket and Javi puts it back on. 

“Now it smells like you,” he smiles and hugs your waist to pull you in for a kiss. Maybe you don’t mind giving him back his jacket after all. You tell him good luck with the rest of his work night and he doesn’t drive away until he sees the light on your floor turn on. Even if you’ll be asleep, he can’t wait to come back home to a bed warmed by your perfect body. 

“Man, I’ve never seen anyone so in love,” Steve says, pretending to be annoyed, but really Javi knows he’s happy for you two.

Javi just smiles. He’s never seen anyone more in love either, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog and let me know if you enjoyed this fic, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

[dearmura]

rev it up

☆ c.w. not proofread oops

☆ pairings. biker bf! riki × gf! reader

☆ an. inspo after seeing an unholy amount of booktok biker bfs on my fyp 🤭

"riki it's been 10 minutes since I sent that text, don't tell me you sped here...again" you try to scold the boy despite burying your face in his chest the second the door flung open

you don't miss the way the boy's eyes widen for a second as he recalls the unholy amount of horns that were honked on the way here, riding well over the speed limit

"speed limits are more of a kindly suggestion, princess, and I'm not dead yet"

the boy sports a grin too proud for the confession of the laws he technically broke

"you're gonna kill yourself one day, or get yourself in jail, or both, riki" you try to sound mad but you've had this conversation one too many times with him to know it'll just go in one ear, out the other

the boy only wraps his arms around your waist tighter, trying to butter you up so you don't end up killing him first before he could do it himself from speeding

"but I'm safe now, with you, my love. isn't that all that matters?" he attempts, brushing your baby hairs out of your face, leaving you less than amused

frowning, the boy taps his chin theatrically, thinking up a way to wipe that "I'm not mad, just disappointed" look off your face

"would it make you feel any better if I, your very responsible, top-notch, safe biker boyfriend, were to take you, my pretty little backpack, to get your favorite ice cream?"

he coerces you with a grin, caressing your hair gently as the little cherry on top, knowing this could end one of too ways: one, you agreeing and thanking him for being the best boyfriend ever (his delusions talking), or two, you kicking him where the sun don't shine for trying to distract you with treats like a puppy...yet again

he prays for the former

you narrow your eyes at the boy, pressing your tongue up against the side of your cheek, stumped by his disgustingly good distraction skills

"with sprinkles?"

the boy only chuckles softly at your quirked brow and innocent question, grateful you didn't seem to choose the latter of his guesses

"come on, princess, I would've gotten that for you regardless, you actually have to punish me somehow with these conditions of yours" he grins playfully, caressing your cheek flirtily, making your cheeks warm

"no weaving between cars on the way there and....below the speed limit by 5 mph" you retort, now sporting a similar smirk on your face as his smile drops in disbelief

"how much extra sprinkles are we talking..."

fin

a.n. back from my fifty-year long hiatus....

[loucifersbitch]

tagged by @bidisasterevankinard (and others during the last few days <3) have some tevantober week 2 that i still haven't finished (oops) [aka the freak blizzard/injured tommy fic]

On his very last call of the shift, Tommy was on ground crew for an extrication when he had a small run in with a patch of ice. He could’ve caught himself if Ortega hadn’t hit the same patch of ice and knocked them both on their asses - or in Tommy’s case, on his side, his head smacking the ice and a sharp shard leaving a cut over his eyebrow. Luckily he could get away with some butterfly bandages and wouldn’t have to worry about stitches on his face, but the skin around the cut was still tender. When the paramedics released him, he hopped on the rig back to Harbor so he could go the fuck home, take some Tylenol, and sleep for the next three days. Yanking his phone out of his pocket inside his turnouts put a damper on those plans. 19 missed calls 6 new voicemails 27 unread messages “Goddammit,” Tommy said under his breath, then louder, “who told Evan?” Three hands shot up, not one of them looking the least bit sorry. “Technically I called Chimney,” Donato said. “I called Wilson actually,” Hansen added. Tommy looked at Ortega and raised an accusing eyebrow. “Okay, fine, yeah, I called Buckley. Sue me. I felt bad for getting you covered in blood, and I thought you might need your boy to take care of you.” With a defeated groan, Tommy dropped his head back against the seat, eyes closed. “Fantastic.” Evan picked up on the second ring.

tags

@carrythatwayt @monsterrae1 @bi-buckrights @xofemeraldstars @sherlocking-out-loud

@buckleylonglegs @sunglassesmish @powersuitup @theotherbuckley @lavenderleahy 

@buckhastwohands @buckevantommy @buckera @evansboyfriend @bucksbignaturals 

@aringofsalt @firewasabeast @firehose118 @ohithankyou @beefcakekinard

@smallandalmosthonest @hyperfocusthusly

[stellamancer]

notes: time is a construct that bten!reader no longer understands. anyway, yes hellow, late gojo birthday fic that i am pretending that i'm not posting on megumi's birthday LMAO.

takes place in the same universe as beyond the unending night, however reading that fic is not necessary, all you need to know is that reader has a CT that can rewind time. slight and implied reader x gojo if you're squinting. also. reader is very unreliable narrator (there are some things in the narration that gojo responds to because reader is unaware they said it aloud oops.) not proofread.

wc: 944

“Your birthday was a couple days ago?” 

Gojo tilts his head toward you, expression passive for a split second before a broad grin spreads across his face. “It was! How did you know! Wait, let me guess, you—”

“The students,” you supply flatly before he can make any outlandish suggestions regarding how you happened across the information. “Yuta-kun mentioned it.” 

There’s a slight pucker to Gojo’s lips, but it’s gone almost instantly as he remarks. “Oh Yuta… He’s always been an exemplary student! Even going so far as to remember his dear old teacher’s birthday…” 

You stare at Gojo. There’s a trap here. Bait. It’s not well hidden either, if his exaggerated tone is any indication. You consider telling him straight up: it’s not possible to remember something you never knew in the first place. But instead, you decide to indulge him. “Do people usually not remember?” 

Now that you say that, you find the words hard to believe. You can barely call yourself a part of jujutsu society, but there’s no denying that Gojo is something of a big deal. There’s no way that these illustrious ‘higher ups’ would forget the birthday of someone as important as Satoru Gojo.

“It’s not that they don’t remember,” Gojo says, “it’s that they just don’t care.” 

The nonchalance in his voice stuns you, more so than the fact that you cannot detect even a hint of bitterness in it. They… don’t care? You want to be in denial, to think that that simply cannot be true. And yet…

You cannot deny it. 

Not when you know what you do of the top brass.

“Well, not the students,” Gojo adds, fondness seeping into his tone as the tiniest smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Threw me a party and everything. As expected of students of the Great Teacher Gojo!”

He puffs his chest out a little, clearly pleased, no doubt proud. 

“...did you do anything else?” you ask. Knowing someone as whimsical as Gojo, you can imagine him spending the day as he pleased, going from sweet shop to sweet shop spending exorbitant amounts of money on any and every sugary item he could possibly get his hands on. 

“Nope.” 

You blink at him. “What.”

“I was waaaaaay too busy to do anything else,” Gojo says with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I’m lucky that the students love me so much that they took on a couple extra missions just so we could party for a half hour.”

Gojo’s words have you gawking at him, slack jawed and in awe. You’re well aware that he’s a busy guy, but to only have had a half hour of free time on his birthday to celebrate is just…

“Don’t make that face.” His voice is quiet. Gentle. “It’s fine; I’m used to it. Just a part of being an adult, you know?”

He’s not wrong, but… 

Somehow, it doesn’t sit well with you. 

“....you’re done with everything you have to do today, right?” you ask, reaching into your pocket to check the time; it’s nearly midnight.

“Yeah?” Gojo answers, and while he sounds mostly amused, you think you can hear the smallest hint of confusion. “You thinking of having a late night snack together to make up for missing my birthday? How romantic of you!” 

“Not exactly,” you shoot back without missing a beat, but Gojo doesn’t seem to be disappointed by you rebuffing him. You outstretch your palm toward him and he inclines his head down slightly to show that he’s looking down at it. 

Gojo hums. He knows what you’re thinking. Of course he does. “You know that’s technically against the rules.” 

“And?” you ask as you stare back at him.

“You could get in biiiiiiig trouble, you know.”

Your gaze doesn’t waver.

“Could even be sentenced to death for it!” 

Your hand doesn’t move.

Gojo tilts his head to the side before heaving a sigh and shaking his head. He raises his hand, but rather than take yours, he reaches up higher and moves to flick your forehead. That would work just as well, and for a split second you gather your cursed energy, ready to use your technique, but—

You merely wince and Gojo tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow as your energy quickly dissipates.

“Change your mind?” he asks.

“Wasn’t sure if you were actually going to do it,” you answer honestly. Did he actually flick you or did he just ‘pretend’ to? There wouldn't have been any point if he pretended. 

“What do you think?”

You frown as a playful, yet menacing grin spreads across Gojo's face. He knows full well that you can't tell, especially if you can't even see the point of contact. 

“Well wishes aside, the only other thing I can really offer you is time,” you deadpan. It wasn't like you were going to be stupid and give him a week or even a month, but…

Gojo wags his finger at you, tutting. “No, not true! There's something else!”

You give him a pointed look. What else could you possibly give? 

“Well, it's really more like an IOU,” he explains airily, before his tone shifts, growing quieter and more serious. “Just get stronger. Strong enough to take on missions just like me and maybe next year we can have a longer party.” 

You sigh. His suggestion is more practical, more useful in the long run, and while you can agree with what he's proposed… It's his birthday. He could afford to be a little more selfish. 

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile ever wide and absolutely ominous. “I'll keep that in mind next time.” 

[rizzanon]

holy moly guacamole why did fixing a blog take so long to do oh my days, but guess who finally got to have a side blog purely just for fanarts and asks 😼 (technically this is just my old blog that I stopped using since I switched to different one..oop!)

this is like receiving freedom holy cow I get to send pictures now and still able to be semi-anonymous

anyways here’s a little sneak peak on one of the fanart I’m planning to send 🥳🥳

I ended up basing Caitlyn’s brother off of her design someone gave in your asks but I’ll be rereading chapter 4 again to check if I missed details regarding his physical looks b4 sending the full fanart 😼 (this one is based off of the Pinterest link an anon sent)

- 🌔 (I’m gonna keep sending this emoji in all of my asks till the day I die)

HAHAH OMG dw i didn’t give caitlyn’s brother any descriptive details (or a name… 💀) so feel free to draw him however you like!!

BUT LMAO I CAN’T WITH JASON AT THE BACK (stay jealous bro) 😭 I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE FULL FANART 🤩

[raquellemonsta]

Hi girl! Me again!

Still can’t stop thinking abt that amazing tobio fic that u did which I requested, I NEEDD a part two or like a timeskip where they’re datinggg. I’m dying to know what their dating life is like when their pre-dating time is already as hot and fiery as u wrote it!! <3 along w the media n stuff like they’re obv they’re gn be so slay n espesh u write it so i alr know I’m gn love it sm!! So looking forward to it <33

golden (timeskip!kageyama x model!reader)

here it is! I love these two so much. I'm sorry this took so long, oops. disclaimer: you'll have to suspend your disbelief, I know in the manga he technically was 19 when he went to the Olympics but he's aged up here so that both of your career paths make sense. I am very sorry if that takes you out of the story at all </3 I hope you love it anyway!

wc: 2015 words

(part 1)

your relationship with kageyama tobio is nothing short of a dream. everyone can tell just how in love with him you are, and he's just as whipped for you. the two of you are meant for each other.

it's what all the tabloids, your closest friends, and even your parents say to you every-time you see them.

you can't agree more; he's the perfect man for you. tobio is able to understand the weight of being in the spotlight, millions of eyes on you, and he keeps you grounded. he's been your date to every social event, awards show, concert, sporting event, you name it. at the same time, you both are always there for one another, even with no cameras around. tobio's your safe space away from all of the pressures of being famous (and just being human, too). he's anything but a pr relationship, that's for sure.

which is why you're so excited, today of all days especially.

your boyfriend is competing in the 2016 summer olympic games, one of the most impressive feats an athlete can accomplish.

even if tobio can be quiet, not bothering to talk about what it is he's thinking about most of the time, you know that this has been a dream of his since he was a little boy. it's quite literally the farthest he can go in the sport he's loved forever, and he gets to do it with his close friends by his side, too.

your heart swells with pride just thinking about it. you're so happy he has this opportunity.

the unfortunate consequence of it, though, is that you haven't seen him in two weeks. well, that's slightly dramatic. he's able to text you occasionally, but nothings the same as waking up in his arms. other than games, of course, he's restricted to practice and the olympic village.

the only times you've really seen him in-person are watching his games, where you have a limited time afterwards to hug him before he's whisked away from you to start the same cycle over again.

it's been very lonely without him. your friend even sent you a twitter post someone had made about how sad you looked and how 'no one ever sees [you] without [your] boyfriend usually'. you kind of laughed at that, both at the ridiculous picture taken of you and at the fact that the caption might be true.

you miss him so much.

that's why you're both excited and nervous that today is the very last possible match: olympic finals.

entering the (at this point) familiar arena, you make your way to the side designated for japan. your seat is pretty close to the front, but still high enough so that you can see all of the court. that part is important, since your tobio rarely stays in one spot when he's out there.

you pull out your phone, shooting a text to your friend and then one to tobio, despite the fact that he definitely won't see it until after the game. you're pulled out of your focus by a man with a microphone held to your face.

"miss japan! miss (l/n), are you excited to be here today?" he looks at you excitedly, camera aimed at your face.

you can never seem to escape the 'reporters' from random news sites, especially here. it's not too surprising that they want to know your reaction to your boyfriend being in the finals. you don't want to seem rude, though, so once you recover from the shock of being interrupted, you respond calmly.

"of course i am. i'm lucky to have someone i know and love playing, too." you smile at the camera, waving to anyone who will end up watching this (which is always more people than you think). you can practically hear gushiken-san talking about what a great client he has. 'so humble!'

"yes, kageyama tobio. his performance has been amazing these past few games." he looks at you, expectantly.

"i think his performance is always amazing, but i'm also biased," you joke.

the man smiles at you, the two of you going back and forth for a few more questions, mainly about you and your most recent projects (shouldn't they be focused on the event you're at?), along with digging for any possible hints on where you'll be modeling next.

finally, he thanks you for your time and you're left alone. your attention then shifts to the court, where brazil has gone out to warm up.

your heartbeat picks up its pace, nervous and excited simultaneously.

it's almost time.

when the japanese team walks out, your eyes immediately fall onto number 20. even his warmup is flawless. you barely register the time passing, gaze locked on tobio like he's the only man on earth.

the whistle, signifying the end of warmups and for the teams to lineup, brings you back to reality. this is really happening. this is what he's worked so hard for.

this is his destiny.

————

finals. olympic finals. a game away from total victory, or bitter defeat.

his heart has been pounding for the entirety of the last set. tobio has always been able to keep his cool during matches, but something about the pressure of the biggest match in the entire world has managed to creep into his head. it even cost the team a point earlier. a foot fault has rarely ever happened to him before, yet here of all games it would. tobio knows he has to put that behind him, though, especially with the score now.

28-27. match point. and he's up to serve.

slowly moving back behind the line, a chill goes down his spine. the arena feels dead silent, despite the sheer number of spectators. he closes his eyes, pushing out a final exhale as his ears barely register the whistle.

this is it.

his entire life has led up to this exact moment. his serve undoubtedly making or breaking the game, and his reputation. it feels as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders, crushing him and depriving his lungs of air. like sinking deep underwater, he's nearly swallowed whole.

a saving grace is waiting for him, in the form of you. he pictures your beautiful face, smiling up at him like he's the only man in the entire world. like he's invincible.

tobio knows you're watching him right now. what are you thinking? about that missed serve earlier, and how lame he is? no. that thought is quickly swiped away. he thinks of how you'll run up to him as soon as the game is over, win or lose, take him in your arms and kiss him like no one is watching. he can't wait.

with complete precision, he tosses the ball up, going through his footwork as if in slow motion. he's done this a million times before, and yet this is different.

at the apex of his jump, he meets the ball. he swears he can see you now, hands over your mouth, gripping tightly in anticipation. he's sure he's never slammed the ball harder.

the ball drills into the back left corner, shanked by brazil's opposite.

the arena immediately becomes deafening, shouts and cheers erupting from every single side of kageyama as he barely registers that he ended the olympics on an ace. his teammates are crowding him, excited (especially bokuto), and yet all he can think of is you.

the next several minutes are spent awarding the medals, kageyama standing with his team on the first place podium. despite this being one of the greatest moments of his life, his face lacks a visible smile. he's glancing around the arena, searching throughout the crowd.

a tap on his shoulder finally pulls him out of it, though he turns around to be met with the girl he was looking for, you.

his eyes widen for a split second before you basically throw yourself onto him, hugging him so tightly that you can feel the cold medal through your shirt. tobio's arms quickly wrap around you, and even despite the sweat you move closer to him.

"i'm so proud of you." you smile brightly, amazed by this man that you're lucky enough to call your boyfriend. your hands have found their way to his cheeks, thumbs at the edge of his lips.

kageyama's never been big on pda, but he just won an olympic gold medal and has the prettiest girl in the world by his side. he can let a kiss with you slide, especially when you're looking at him like that.

you drown out the cheers and ignore the flashing of several cameras, lost in your love for tobio. it's only you and your lover, locked in a kiss full of emotion and yet simply enough to convey your feelings.

when the two of you pull away, it's like you suddenly remember just where you are, and you feel slightly shy (which is shocking, for you). tobio, on the other hand, is smiling down at you. really smiling, the smile that he told you people always thought was 'creepy', but you loved because you know it's genuine.

unfortunately, the two of you are pulled out of your moment together.

"kageyama, that was absolutely amazing! how are you feeling after such an amazing moment?!" a reporter rapidly speaks, trying to be heard over the loud environment. unlike the one interviewing you earlier, this woman appears to be from a more official american news station, trying to get an interview from the man who won japan the game.

tobio looks between her and the camera, confused, before he leans into the microphone.

"i love my girlfriend," comes his very choppy english. you can't stop yourself from smiling brightly, the camera turning to focus on you behind him.

he pulls you away after that, and you shoot the reporter and cameraman an apologetic look before following after him eagerly.

"thank you, hon." you joke, commenting on his earlier answer to the woman.

he looks to you. "it's true."

you lean up to kiss him again, hands tenderly holding his shoulders.

"i know. you're so sweet to me… can i wear your medal for a sec?" you eye the big circle of gold.

kageyama can only roll his eyes at your quick shift, though he still ends up taking the medal off and over his head, placing it on you like you've just created all of the stars in the sky.

—————

"tobio, what flavor should we get? i'm stuck between strawberry shortcake and fudge brownie." you stare through the glass case at the grocery store, pondering about the endless assortment of ice cream.

in the reflection, you can see your boyfriend aimlessly looking around the aisle, before his eyes catch onto your figure. you catch his lips turn up so subtly that you'd have never noticed it if he wasn't the love of your life.

he ponders your statement for a second, before coming up next to you and opening the case, grabbing both of the cartons you listed. you look up at him, confused.

"why not both?" he turns back to you, small smile still present.

you smile brightly at him, entranced. he's so perfect.

"i love you, tobio."

"i love you, (y/n)."

you let yourself fall into his side (the arm where he's not holding the ice cream, of course), wrapping your arm around his back as he does the same to you.

on your way to the self-checkout, you snatch one of the magazines on the edge of an aisle, plastered with a photo of you and tobio after his medal was awarded. you skim the bubble in the bottom right corner, one questioning any talk of marriage between the two of you.

you jokingly point to the bubble, showing it to your boyfriend.

"what do you have to say to this, hm?"

tobio eyes it, quickly reading before he smiles at you and kisses your head. he turns away to pay for the ice cream, ignoring your question.

"hey!"

"patience…"

[janeyseymour]

Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 3

Part 1. Part 2.

Summary: You head to Melissa's to celebrate the big victory.

WC: ~2.05k

After leaving the court room, you promise the Schemmenti family that you’ll be over to their apartment to celebrate. First though, you do have a bit of business to get done while you’re technically still within the parameters of your workday. Just because one case doesn’t mean that you get to slack for the rest of the day- there’s always more to do.

“I’ll have dinner made by the time you come,” the redhead promises you.

You smile warmly at her. “I’ll see you around six. What kind of wine should I bring?”

“Champagne,” she tells you. “We’re celebrating tonight.”

The rest of your workday is boring and tedious, much more so than they usually are. All you want to do is go home, change out of your stuffy courtroom attire and into your comfortable clothing, and celebrate the huge success that happened today with two of your favorite people.

Finally, 5 o’clock rolls around, and you don’t think you’ve ever run out of your office faster. Your boss actually shoots you a dirty look as you scurry past her in order to leave. You stop at the liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine before you set off in the direction of your complex.

Once you’re parked, you notice an old car that isn’t usually there, but you figure it’s just a visitor for another tenant in the building. Older, more beat up cars aren’t necessarily uncommon in this area. You shrug and grab your bags before heading up to your apartment. 

You’re quick to change into your comfortable clothes and take off all of your makeup, and you swap out professional Y/N for a more casual you. After today’s hearing, you absolutely deserve to just relax. You give yourself a once over in the mirror, ensuring that while you’re more comfortable you’re still presentable enough for the beautiful woman just two doors down. Grabbing the bottle of champagne and your nice champagne flutes, you head down the hall and knock.

Melissa is quick to open the door with JJ on her hip and a smile that competes with the bright lights of center city. The little boy is immediately squirming to be held by you instead of his mother, and you chuckle as you take him into your arms.

“Miss Y/N!” he squeals with delight.

“Hi, sweet boy,” you chuckle as you take in the sight of him. He’s practically drowning in one of your sweatshirts from your old university, and he looks absolutely precious.

“Mister wanted to wear his favorite person’s sweatshirt to celebrate the fact that we won and he gets to stay with Momma,” the redhead tells you with a chuckle. Then she conspiratorially whispers, “He refused my Abbott sweatshirt when he told me he was cold.”

You giggle at that little fact before tickling JJ’s stomach. “Silly boy. I’m sure your momma’s sweatshirt is way more cozy.”

He shakes his head adamantly. “Nope. Miss Y/N’s.”

The teacher rolls her eyes at her son’s antics. “Well, come in. Dinner’s ready and on the table.”

Melissa had whipped up chicken cacciatore, and it is heavenly as usual. The little boy insists on sitting between the two of you as he eats happily, wiggling in his seat and giggling at the silly faces you make at him.

“Oi,” the redhead huffs playfully. “You two need to eat, and stop making funny faces.” She glances to you. “I swear you’re just as bad as him.”

“But you still love me, Momma!” JJ exclaims, throwing his fork (his very full fork) up into the air with emphasis. It comes plopping down onto the table, and you can’t help the fit of giggles that you dissolve into as you grab a napkin to start cleaning it up. 

“JJ,” Melissa sighs, exasperated. She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Bud. We talked about how you can’t throw your arms all around during dinner because then this happens.”

The little boy shrivels, but only slightly, as a guilty smile appears on his face. “Oops?”

“‘Oops’ is right, my dear,” the mother rolls her eyes playfully as she picks up his fork and hands it to him.

“But you do still love me, right?” he asks a bit more quietly.

“Of course I do, hun,” Melissa smiles down at him, any frustration already left behind. She leans over to pepper his face in kisses, her smile only growing at her son’s full-out belly laughter.

After dinner is cleaned up, the three of you settle in on the couch for a movie- The Lion King, to be exact. Once JJ had learned that you had never seen his favorite movie, he absolutely insists that the three of you watch it all together. He acts out the beginning, even going as far as grabbing his stuffed lion from a previous trip to the zoo and holding it up like Simba, but by the time Mufasa falls he’s curled up in your lap and asleep.

“There’s a reason I never saw this movie,” you mutter to the redhead next to you as your head lazily falls to her shoulder. “I knew the Dad died, and I was terrified.”

“Oh, hun,” the woman chuckles a bit sleepily. She reaches for the remote, but you stop her. 

“It’s fine,” you laugh. “I guess I should watch it if it’s your son’s favorite movie.”

You watch the movie in silence, allowing the redhead to rest her head on your shoulder as she lets the events of today wash over her and the tiredness takes her from the waking world.

As the movie credits roll, Melissa stirs just slightly, but her son stays dead to the world and remains in his dreaming state as he snuggles into your chest impossibly further.

“Sorry,” she blushes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

You chuckle softly. “Not a problem at all. I actually did enjoy that movie.”

She sits up just slightly to look down at the little boy still sleeping. “He’s out?”

“Like a light,” you tell her.

“I guess I should get him to bed,” the redhead smiles softly. She reaches for him and gently pries his grip off of you. “My sweet boy.”

“I suppose I should head back over to my own apartment,” you say a bit sadly.

The mother gives you a look. “Stay?” she requests softly. “Just for another glass of wine, and maybe an adult show?”

She looks hesitant and nervous. At your nod though, those emotions written into her face melt away. “Just give me a few minutes to get him tucked in, and I’ll be out.”

“You want another glass of champagne, or would you rather me pour you a glass of red?”

“Champagne,” she replies softly over her shoulder as she heads for the back hall.

While she’s putting JJ to bed, you pour two more glasses and then settle back into the couch cushions that squeak just slightly due to the plastic covering them, reaching forward to change the channel. 

When she returns, the redhead slips onto the couch right next to you, and due to the two cushions joining where she sits, the two of you dip just slightly, and you’re hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. You both let out just a small chuckle before sobering slightly.

“Congratulations,” you say softly as you raise your glass.

She raises her own, clinks it with yours and takes a sip. “I really don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

You smile to yourself knowingly. Melissa is not going through a messy divorce anymore- she’s a newly single woman who has been flirting with you throughout the preparation for her case. She has in fact told you in confidence that she is bisexual, although it’s been quite a while since she’s been with a woman due to her marriage to Joe (even though he at one point tried to convince her to participate in a threesome with her sister- that should’ve been the first telling point that he was going to turn into a dirty, rotten cheater, she would tell you). And… she’s not your client anymore. You won her case, she gets to keep JJ, and she specifically asked you to stay later just to sit and spend time with her. “Go out on a date with me.”

“What?” the sleepiness that was just in her emerald eyes disappears in a flash, and her jaw is slightly dropped in shock.

“That’s how you can repay me,” you tell her. “Go out on a date with me.”

She bites her lip nervously. “Are you being serious right now?”

“You know when I’m messin’ and when I’m being serious,” you tell her. “I’ve had feeling for you since I first saw you, and I’m fairly certain that you have feelings for me if you’re flirting is anything to go by. I just never acted on it because you were in the middle of your divorce, and you were my client. But now… none of those things are a problem.”

“Wh- why would you want to go on a date with me?” Melissa asks, and you can see in her eyes that she’s genuinely shocked you’ve taken up an interest in her. 

“Why would I not?” you ask her back.

She quirks her lips up a bit before letting them fall, and her eyes go to her hands in her lap. “I’m… me. You’ve seen me when I’m tired and stressed, not with a face full of makeup on, a mess. I’m a mess, really.”

“Melissa, you just went through an extremely tough time,” you tell her gently, laying a hand over hers. “And through it all, I’ve seen you be wonderful with JJ. And besides… I’ve already seen it all. I know what you look like when you’re tired and overwhelmed, I know you have a four year old- who I already adore. I know the little quirks you have and how to handle them… those are all of the tough parts of a relationship to find, and I’ve already found them and love them.”

The redhead looks back up at you, and this time her eyes shine brightly with tears. “You do?”

You nod and smile at her warmly, trying to convey just how much you genuinely mean your words. “So?”

“I think I’d like that,” she whispers. “I can have Barb watch JJ tomorrow if you wanted to try to go out tomorrow? If not, over the weekend, my sister can take him.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow,” you tell her. “Be ready.”

“I will be.”

The two of you sit there for a bit longer, just sipping on your champagne and enjoying each other’s company when she reaches over and takes your hand in hers. Her fingers absentmindedly twiddle with the ring that sits on your middle finger as you watch whatever program is on the television.

After a short while, her movements stop. An arm gets slung around your waist and her head hits your shoulder. You look down, and she’s fallen asleep again. With the softest lips, you press a kiss to her hairline. You suppose you’re stuck here now that she’s asleep- you aren’t going to disturb that. So, you maneuver the two of you so that you’re laying down on her couch, reach up to grab one of the blankets draped over the back, and then you close your eyes yourself.

It’s around two in the morning when Joe slips in, ready to get his revenge on the redhead sleeping on top of you for taking his son away. It’s amazing that he’s able to enter nearly silently given the amount that he’s had to drink.

But then he catches a glimpse of the two of you sound asleep on the couch, Melissa’s arm draped over your stomach, your arms holding her protectively.

He knows his ex-wife always keeps baseball bats around for self-defense, and he easily spots the one that’s right under the couch the two of you are sleeping on.

You’re woken up to Melissa’s absolutely earsplitting scream. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[everestgale]

Long Post about EG's Voice Designs

Unrelated Hero being adorable just so above-cut is not all text lol

Gale woke up one morning, felt nostalgic, and wanted to ramble. Therefore, Gale decided to ramble about their voice designs.

Warning: this will be a very long, just barely coherent post, where I just talk about the evolution of my voice designs. It will include a lot of old art, sketches, and side tangents. More than anything, this is for me to look back on later, if I ever need to do that or feel like doing that.

[Post-writing EG: …uh, it's like 2000+ words worth of ramble. You've been warned.]

So, I guess I'll start at the very beginning, should I?

From the very beginning, back when I was just getting into Slay the Princess, I knew that I wanted my voices to resemble The Long Quiet as much as possible, which meant that I very quickly settled on a humanoid bird-folk with a mouthless face as the base of my designs. I knew I wouldn't be able to draw actual birds, and drawing them as humans with clothes felt too far from the original game (I tend to be quite rigid with my own headcanons and stuff, absolutely nothing wrong with giving voices clothes or making them human! In fact, sometimes I get jealous over the design expression I'm missing out on. I just tend to be quite stubborn, often to my own detriment).

Fun fact, for a while, I headcanon'd that the Long Quiet has a beak but the voices do not, and I actually used to draw them like that for a while… but I realized that I'm terrible at drawing actual bird faces with beaks. So eventually I gave in and joined the mouthless TLQ crowd (only to be technically proven wrong by P&D. Oops!)

Old TLQ sketches (January 14th, 2024)

Anyways! The very first voice designs were very small changes from a base Quiet design:

Old Hero, Broken & Stubborn drawings (January 3rd - 4th, 2024). Also, silly Everest, they didn't know they would still be obsessed with StP almost a full year later—

Hero had slightly longer head feathers and ears. Stubborn was just spikier. And Broken… well, that's when I began experimenting with making bigger changes to the original Quiet design! While still very much driven by it, I gave Broken droopy ears and plucked neck/arm feathers, something that remained consistent to this day (it's lowkey my favorite part of his design)!

Here's his current design, still as droopy as always and missing neck/arm feathers.

These three were as far as I got, however, because I quickly began running out of ideas on how to keep differentiating between voices. I don't quite remember what happened exactly (I will guess that I saw other people's voice designs and got inspired), but I started to assign real-life birds to the voices and draw design features from them.

Oh hey, owl Paranoid and cockatiel Contrarian! (January 7th, 2024)

Still very much sticking to the base Quiet design, but slowly trying to incorporate more unique features to differentiate them easier. And so it began, a rabbit hole of researching bird symbolism, behaviors, and distinguishing features, all to give each voice a bird that felt right to them. Some were easier than others (like the aforementioned cockatiel Contrarian), and others were an absolute pain (Cheated was a European robin, then a white wagtail, and then finally a house sparrow), but nonetheless, these gave me a good starting point for their designs:

Early design sketches (January 22nd, 2024)

There were… quite a few mistakes made at that stage. First, and most obvious one, is the lack of shape diversity, especially in body types, as all of my voices were basically the same generic Quiet body shape, just with a few minor height changes. It made them less dynamic and much more boring to look at, especially when I put them next to each other. Second, since these designs only drew inspiration from real-life birds, they weren't super recognizable as their own voice, if that makes sense. No iconography from the game, no other details that could help identify the voice, etc. And third… I just didn’t like about half of them. I ended up giving a small redesign to Hero, Skeptic, and Cheated as a result of the Perception Check animatic (they were all present there, so I needed designs that I didn't immediately hate). But besides that, those were the main designs I used.

A frame out of my Perception Check animatic (February 27th - March 1st, 2024). Official throwback post for it coming very soon!

After that point, I didn't do much Slay the Princess art (especially not with voices), until I rejoined the fandom right around Pristine Cut release. And let me tell you, I looked at my voice designs after a long break and wanted to cry /hj

I was NOT happy with my little guys, but I still stuck with the designs I had (or close to them) for a little while longer because I just couldn't quite figure out what I wanted to do with them, especially after such a long break. I tried to figure out what to do with them as I was doing requests and random voice interaction sketches. For some, it actually worked well (Cold, for example, got about half of his redesign as a result), but others (like Cheated, Stubborn, and Hunted) did not get any attention from me.

Random assortment of voice sketches (November 14th - 16th, 2024)

My main issue at this point was trying to figure out how much detail I wanted to add to the voices and which detail I wanted to add, too. Because my voices struggled on a fundamental shape design level, I tried to compensate by adding distinguishing details (like the weird feathers on Paranoid's chest)... but that only made these designs annoying to draw. The final tipping point was this StP Monopoly post that I spent too many hours on, battling against my own designs. I got fed up with being unhappy with them. And so, it began.

I still very much wanted to use my old designs as a base because even though I wasn't happy with them, there was a certain charm to them that I would've hated to get rid of completely (I'm a very sentimental person when it comes to stuff like that). And so with that, armed with about 18 million references, including but not limited to game screenshots, real-life birds, and other people's voice designs, I began working on the silhouettes:

Actually, the first step was to figure out how tall my voices were. I used this website to help me visualize it, and I'm now realizing that they're quite tall. Except Opportunist, sorry not sorry Opportunist.

Voice silhouettes (November 24th - 26th, 2024). I will still cry over how much trouble Smitten gave me. His silhouette had about 5 different revisions, before I finally arrived at something I liked.

Why silhouettes? Well, it's a large cast of characters, and I wanted them all to be distinct, so shape language and sizes and clarity of silhouette were the most important at this stage. I already had a pretty good idea of what kind of design elements I wanted to add, so the goal was to make sure these elements had a good base, if that makes sense. Though, I couldn't resist sketching some of those details at that stage, just to see if it matched what I imagined.

I wish I had some clever reasoning for why the voices are specific size/shape/etc, but for many of them, it was based entirely on vibes and personal preferences. The only ones that had some sort of thematic reasoning for their silhouettes were Cold (I wanted him to be very tall and extremely thin, to kind of mimic a skeleton) and Cheated (the goal was to make him as sharp and spikey as possible since the Razor is his Chapter II princess). The rest? Purely aesthetics/preference/vibes. I wanted Smitten to be large and round. I wanted Paranoid to be very fluffy. I wanted Opportunist to be the shortest voice in my entire lineup (sorry not sorry Opportunist [2]). That's pretty much it lol

Anyways! Once the silhouettes were all done, it was a matter of translating all of my random notes, and ideas, and old design elements into the final lineup.

There were three key considerations when I was creating all of my voice designs, and I tried to keep them all in mind as I was drawing these:

Simplicity - I knew I would be drawing these guys over and over again, so I wanted to make sure my designs as easily recreatable as possible.

Recognizability - how easy is it to identify the voice correctly (i.e. differentiating between, say, Hunted and Paranoid or Cheated and Stubborn by looks alone)

Random nonsense - how many small details, parallels, silly references, and "this looks cool"s can I put into design while keeping 1 and 2 true.

…because nothing brings me more joy than sneaking the dumbest references and jokes into my designs. Cold's little chest feathers are a great example of that, and I will definitely talk about it one day.

Some of my favorite design elements are different little parallels these designs have to each other (especially Stranger pairs) and to their respective Chapter II princesses:

Stubborn & Broken have a bright red accent in their design, practically the only similarity in their design, indicating that they don't have much in common, except for the passion they show in their respective routes. Stubborn also got horns from the Adversary and the general rough/tattered leg feathers. Broken couldn't borrow elements from the Tower directly, but he got feathers resembling a wimple/neck piece that nuns usually wear, and his bright red chest feathers also work as a stab wound.

Skeptic & Smitten also don't have a lot in common, but they both have a shoulder shawl, working almost as a layer of separation between them and the world they inhabit, as both can be very stuck in their ways / unwilling to see past their point of view. Skeptic got a shackle similar to the Prisoner's, while Smitten's arm feathers are supposed to resemble the Damsel's frilly sleeves!

Opportunist & Hunted are both most animal-like, with Opportunist resembling a cat (for the Witch) or rat (because that's who he is), while Hunted looks like a hare. I also tried to keep their designs most organic in terms of flow, but I'm not sure I succeeded with that. Opportunist was a fun (and difficult) one to try to mirror the Witch, I ended up giving him spiky feathers resembling the Witch's tattered skirt and sticks/debris pointing out of his feathers! Hunted was much simpler and just got the same bandages the Beast has :] That is also how trans Hunted was born if you were curious.

Cheated & Contrarian are, quite simply, both falling apart to various degrees. Cheated's stitches were designed first, along with his very sharp/spiky design, to go along with the Razor. Then Contrarian followed suit, gaining his cracks to mirror both Cheated and Stranger. I've talked enough about this already lol

And then there were Cold and Paranoid. Oh, the problem children. They used to share whispy ghost-like leg feathers (which you can see in the silhouette designs), but I hated how they looked on Paranoid, so I changed it to fit with his fluffy owl aesthetic better. Works better as a whole for his design, but now these two have almost nothing in common, outside of the darker, textured/feathered sleeves (which is not enough of a distinguishing feature). But in it's own way, it makes sense for my voice designs to end up like this, as I personally have very complicated and mixed feelings on the relationship between Cold and Paranoid. But I do like the overall ghostly skeleton-like look I gave Cold to mirror the Spectre (a large X on his chest also helps to identify him), and gloves on my Paranoid to go along with Nightmare's is probably one of my favorite design elements of them all.

Oh, and of course, Hero. Hero was somehow the easiest and the hardest to design. The easiest, because I wanted him to share a lot of features with the Long Quiet (since he is our first voice and all), so a lot of the decision-making was already done for me. The hardest, because that meant I only had very limited features that I could exaggerate or add to distinguish him from my Quiet in the first place. And so I went with the "exaggerate the hell out of existing features" route, turning Hero's face/head feathers into more of a crown/visor shape… and also giving him long hair. Why did I give my Hero long hair? To be honest, this one started on a complete whim, I tried it out when I was making a silhouette for Hero, and I kind of fell in love with how it looked. It ended up working out because it kind of looks like a lion's mane, symbolizing courage, strength, and justice. But I assure you, it's not how it started lol

Did I succeed with my designs? Well, not quite - some designs are more difficult to draw than others (looking at you, Stubborn), and others lack distinctive details that identify them as that voice (looking at you, Paranoid). But I am quite happy with them as a whole. It was a great exercise in character design for me, and I love my silly birds dearly, so I'm just glad to have designs I don't hate drawing <3

Though, I am now very tempted to do an alternative version that does have them wear clothes. Just for the fun of it. Maybe I'll do it. Maybe I won't. If I do, my Contrarian is going to rock a very pretty dress.

Anyways! If you got this far into this post, thank you so much for reading it!! I just really wanted to ramble about my voices, how much they've changed, and, honestly, how proud I am of how far they've come from their original concepts. My lads are certainly not as intricately designed as some of the other folks I see around here (stares at Sonja and Polite), but I like them, I like drawing them, and that's what matters to me <3

Thanks again for reading my endless ramble, hope you have a great day!

[pedropascallme]

Let Your Mind Go Wild

Pairing: Professor!Damien x f!Reader

Summary: “‘Just…’ You brought your hand out from under his shirt, wrapping it loosely around his neck, thumb brushing over his Adam’s apple, ‘You’re a lot…bigger than me…’ You squeezed his arm.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) implied age gap (Damien is his actual current age, reader is 20-22), student/teacher relationship, mild sadism/masochism themes, dom/sub dynamics, brattamer!Damien, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), biting, spanking (not where you would think!), size kink, daddy kink, If I missed anything please let me know!

Damien prided himself on a lack of shame in regard to his relationship with you.

It wouldn’t shock him if people thought of it as taboo—maybe, to them, him being with someone younger, someone who was technically his subordinate, made him perverted; a deviant in the eyes of onlookers. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The only thing he cared about was you, and if you didn’t mind the unconventional nature of your relationship with him, why should he?

This is what he repeated to himself while he watched you get dressed in his clothes; boxers that fit you too loose around the hips and a button down that swallowed you whole.

The difference in size between the two of you wasn’t something he had put much thought into before. He had noticed the basics, the way your fingers were slenderer than his, your smaller shoes next to his larger ones when you kicked them off in the entry way of the house, and the way you curled into him so gracefully at night.

But with you in his clothes, fabric bunched around your waist, sleeves covering your hands despite repeated attempts to roll them up, he felt something weirdly primal—and it wouldn’t go away.

He didn’t want to draw attention to it, fearing that it would make you uncomfortable somehow. He knew he was being too in his head, but there was a vague worry that an admission of your smaller stature doing it for him would make you think he was using you for the fulfillment of some depraved desire.

You both knew that at this point your relationship was beyond these worries. There was an unconditional, unspoken respect between the two of you; an undying appreciation that made itself obvious in silent (and spoken) ways. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that his urges were misplaced somehow.

He tried to push the thought from his mind and focus on the grading he had been putting off rather than the desire to grab you by the hips and show you how your frame contrasted his.

~~~

“More papers?” You walked into his office, holding a bowl of cereal, the shirt you had stolen from his closet billowed around you.

“Mm,” Damien watched you take a spoonful of cereal to your mouth, a small bead of milk trickling from between your lips and over your chin; you wiped it with the sleeve of his shirt. “I just washed that, baby.” He sighed, amused.

“Oops,” You smiled, still chewing. “Are you going to be busy all day?”

“I hope not.” Damien swiveled his chair back toward his desk and looked at the pile of ungraded assignments stacked high in front of him.

“Well,” you held the bowl in one hand now, dropping your spoon into it and approaching the back of his chair, “I’ll be here." You squeezed at his bicep, kissing his cheek and taking in the rough feel of his stubble on your lips, before turning to leave. "Have fun, Professor.”

He swallowed. The ache he was experiencing to push you down onto any available surface was only heightened by the way you struggled to fit your hand around his arm.

You’d be the death of him.

He could tell you were bored; you began to mark every half hour on the dot by padding into his office—offering a chaste kiss on his neck, or squeezing his arm—and then running out before he had the chance to respond in any way to your antics.

He began to enjoy your game, before growing irritated by his inability to take an active role in it. You’d come in, wrap your arms around his abdomen from behind his chair, soft hums would travel to his ears as you trailed your lips over his skin, small hands running over his chest and arms, and then you’d be gone a moment later. What's more, he'd lose his place, too preoccupied with the feeling of your mouth and hands against him, and have to restart whatever assignment he'd been grading.

“You’re being a brat.” He called to you down the hallway, and the only response you offered was a lighthearted giggle.

He wanted to fuck you stupid, but he knew he should prioritize his occupational responsibilities—however dull they may be, and however tempting you were.

He knew you knew that, too, and you were using his rationality to your advantage in order to act out.

When he reached the last page of the last paper, marked up with pen and read over so many times the words had started blurring together, Damien let out a deep sigh of relief.

The clock read 4:26. He leaned back in his chair, waiting out the next four minutes so that he could finally participate in the game you’d roped him into.

When he heard you coming down the hall, he picked up a stray paper, pretending to be deeply immersed in the reading. You walked up behind him, giggling quietly to yourself, certain you’d continue to get away with pestering him; you reached out once more to squeeze at him, and he swiveled in his chair, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into him in a messy show of affection. You weren’t properly on his lap, and his arms were wrapped around you lazily, but he couldn’t help but smile at the way you leaned into him when you settled with your hands firm on his shoulders, laughing up at him.

“You having fun?” He watched one of your hands sweep over his chest, the warmth of your palm permeating the thin material of the shirt he had on.

“Maybe.” You smiled, unwilling to concede. “Professor?” You undid the top button of his shirt, taking your time before pulling his collar open gently. “Did you ever notice…” You continued to undo a few more buttons, hand reaching under the newly unfastened opening of his shirt to enjoy skin-to-skin contact. Your other hand came to rest on his arm.

“Notice what?” He grabbed your chin gently between his fingers, forcing eye contact.

“Just…” You brought your hand out from under his shirt, wrapping it loosely around his neck, thumb brushing over his Adam’s apple, “You’re a lot…bigger than me…” You squeezed his arm.

Damien clenched his jaw, grateful that you were practically begging for him to act on the thoughts he’d been trying to push down all day; the burning desire to dominate you, show you how much bigger he was than you—and to put you in your place for sidetracking him from his work.

He couldn’t decide which he was more excited about.

“Have you noticed that you’re always a brat when I’m grading?” He hoisted you up, throwing you over his shoulder, one arm wrapped around your thighs, his opposite hand coming up to support your legs while you playfully kicked and squirmed above him. “Because I certainly have.”

“Hey!” You feigned outrage. The blood rushing to your head made you even giddier than you had been. He dropped you down onto the bed and you scrambled to sit up, shoving his chest.

You were already in trouble, what was a little more rebellion?

Damien grabbed your wrists and all but threw you onto your back, crawling over you and kissing down your throat.

“All fucking day,” He murmured against you, “All fucking day, baby—why are you so needy, hm? Cause you’re not getting all of my attention? Cause daddy’s busy with work and can’t give you what you want?” He didn’t know where the new title had come from, pulled from the back of his mind in the heat of the moment, but he was fine now with throwing caution to the wind, seeing as you’d already matched one of his impulses.

You didn’t confirm or deny his taunts, offering a huffed moan in place of any real response. You were distracted, intrigued by the title he had given himself, hips wiggling against him. “You said you wouldn’t be busy all day.” You continued to defy him.

“Is that why you were trying to distract me?” He sucked a deep purple mark on your collar bone, “Just wanted to get fucked? Jealous that my focus wasn't on you?" He bit the mark he had made. "Wanted to show me how you could take this big cock in that sweet little pussy?”

“Yeah—” You gasped at the way his teeth skimmed over your skin, “Yes, sir—yes, daddy.”

“You need to learn some fucking patience,” he groaned, rubbing against your thigh to find some relief. “In my clothes, walking around like you own the place.” His voice got lower, spurred on by your whines. “You look so beautiful like this." He brought his attention to the shirt you wore; sitting up on his knees to straddle your thighs, he tore the few buttons you had bothered to fasten apart.

“Damien!” You smiled, shocked that he would ruin his own clothes. “Thought you just washed this?” You lifted your head, watching his hands to the best of your ability, and he pulled the fabric off your shoulders hastily.

“I’ll get a new one.” He decided, pulling you up towards him to better enable his removal of the shirt from your body. “Little girl in my fucking clothes—you know what you’ve been doing to me all day?” He pushed you back down, dipping his head down to suck on your breasts, interchanging which side he licked over and which side he squeezed. "Distracting me—clothes don't even fit you." His mutterings were general, not directed towards you, but you picked up on them nonetheless.

“You like that I’m sm—aller than you, daddy?” Your breath caught in your throat when his teeth grazed your nipple. You pulled on his hair, earning a growl from him. “Like seeing your little girl in your clothes?”

Damien brought his face up to smother you in a heated kiss; it was sloppy and rash, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the logistics, too immersed in feeling him against you.

“Coming into my office,” he breathed against you, “in this fucking outfit, acting like a brat, trying to get a rise out of me—it worked.” He continued to attack your lips; both of you rutted against each other desperately, neither of you daring to break away from the other to properly undress and do anything about it. “Tell me you need me.”

“Need you—please, need you now, needed you all day.” You moaned when he bit down hard on your neck, leaving a bright red mark behind.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, hips stilling, “you can do better than that.”

“Please—fuck, please, daddy, I’ll do anything, need you to fuck me.” You tugged at the hair on the nape of his neck, twisting short strands in your fingers.

“Yeah?” He moaned, your use of the new title not going unnoticed. “Need daddy’s cock?”

You whined, scraping your nails up his back while you nodded.

“Use your fucking words.”

“Need daddy’s cock,” you whimpered the words back to him, lids feeling heavy over your eyes when you dragged your still-clothed cunt just right against his thigh positioned above you. “Please.”

He stood up wordlessly, removing his shirt; you couldn’t hide the way your eyes raked over his arms, the way the fabric clung to him while he stripped himself bare, soft muscle pulling taught under his skin when he leaned down to undo his fly and rid himself of his jeans.

Christ, had his hands always been that big?

Damien pulled you by your ankles towards the edge of the bed, and you went limp under his touch, making yourself malleable and allowing him to remove the pair of boxers you still had on. He positioned you with your legs spread, hooking one knee over his shoulder and letting the other one hang from the mattress.

“Pretty little pussy.” He brought his hand down onto your cunt, spanking your clit hard.

You jumped at the contact, yelping a moan, and he did it again just to watch you squirm. He put his fingers in his mouth, releasing them after a moment and trailing them from the bottom of your entrance up to your clit.

“Gonna let daddy be in control now, right?” He circled his fingers over your clit, wet with his spit and the slick he'd gathered from his brief sweep up your pussy, “Since you’ve been doing whatever you want all day—my turn, right?”

You nodded, and he spanked your cunt again, coaxing a verbal answer from you. “Yes, sir—daddy’s in charge.”

“Cause this is my pussy to play with…” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement that cemented his authority and the way he planned to worship you, but you answered enthusiastically anyway.

“Yes—belongs to daddy.” You grasped at his wrist, fingers still teasing your clit.

“Good girl.” He moved his hand, effectively blocking your attempts to grab onto him, and pushed one finger into your hole; you arched your back, giving him the opportunity to push into you deeper. “God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, watching his finger pump in and out of you slowly, twisting his wrist and allowing himself to feel all of you around him. “Tight little pussy, squeezing one of my fingers—how are you gonna take my cock, baby? How’s it gonna fit?”

“Make it—make it fit,” you begged, “Make it fit, daddy.”

Damien growled, turning to the leg you had propped up on his shoulder and biting the inside of your thigh harshly before peppering kisses over the mark he'd left behind. “You want me to force my cock into you, baby?” He felt you shudder around him, walls clenching his finger. He added another. “Get you nice and ready for me so I can ruin this little pussy?”

“Please—fuck, Damien, please.”

He pulled his fingers from your dripping hole, licking them off. “Try again.”

“Daddy! Please, daddy, force it. Make me take it.” You bounced your hips gently on the mattress, and he relented, pushing his fingers back into you and curling them upwards to pet the spongy spot inside of you. You cried out for him, and he added another finger.

“That’s three, princess. You feel good?” He watched in awe as your cunt stretched around the intrusion, slick coating his fingers and dripping down the curve of your ass.

“Feels so good.” You breathed.

“Look at that little pussy taking it so good.” He felt like he could drool over the sight in front of him.

“Want your—cock. Please.” You struggled to focus on your breathing, entranced by the way his thick fingers stretched you.

“Thought we said it was my turn to be in charge,” he smiled, devious and unrelenting as he drove his fingers into you. “Cum for me like this, baby. Show me this little pussy can take what I give it.”

He leaned forward, taking your clit in his mouth and sucking; his tongue flicked over you, fingers buried knuckle deep in your cunt, and you clapped your hand over your mouth to keep your screams muffled.

You came like that, dampening your cries for him with your palm and bucking your hips against his mouth. Even with your eyes screwed shut, blinded by pleasure, you could tell he was smiling, proud of himself and the ways in which he could make you come undone.

He removed his fingers from you, and you clenched around the emptiness, whining at the loss of him inside of you. He frowned at you, mockingly.

“What’s wrong?” He stood, leaning over you, “You feel empty?”

“Yes.” You whined, squeezing your thighs together.

“Don’t worry—gonna give you what you need.” He dropped a hand down over your cunt, and you flinched at the attention he gave your sensitive clit, moving his hand back and forth with reckless abandon. You moaned, head falling back further against the bed. “Look at me.” He coaxed your gaze up, and you watched him take his cock in his hand, rubbing it through your folds and then leaning forward, resting it on your stomach. “See that?” He questioned, and you nodded, “See how deep I’m gonna fuck you?”

You let out a quiet moan, staring down at the length of his cock and the space it took up on your body.

“My little girl, I’ll make it fit so nice, baby, I promise. What do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You looked up at him, his lust-blown eyes reflecting your own.

“That’s right.” He pulled his hips back and lined himself up with your entrance. “You want all of it?”

“Please.”

He smirked, smug and eager. Upon hearing your words he immediately pushed his hips forward, spearing you on his cock and watching the way your lower stomach bulged full of him.

You screamed, not even bothering to hide it behind your hand this time, back arching again in satisfaction at being filled to the brim by him. He took one of your hands in his and placed it on your stomach.

“So full, baby.” He looked feral, eyes dark, lips curling up at the sides, top teeth barely peeking through them, his hair falling in messy bangs over his face.

He’d never looked better.

“So fucking big, daddy—so deep.” You whined, pressing on your stomach to feel the swell of him.

“You gonna let daddy fuck this little pussy open?” He growled, watching your hand sweep over your stomach, “Gonna let me wreck you?”

“Yes,” you let out a stuttered breath when he dragged his hips back; maybe it was the conversation, the dirty talk getting to your head, but you could’ve sworn he felt bigger now than he had previously. “Yes, daddy.”

When he pushed back in, you felt yourself jolt up the bed slightly; he was rough, frustrated with your disruptions all day, but more so lost to his own impulses, obsessed with how small you looked spread out on the bed for him, how your legs trembled, wrapped slack around his hips and pulling him in deeper with every thrust.

Any sense of restraint was lost when you looked up at him through your lashes, lips parted and swollen from his kisses. “Want you to cum right there, daddy—deep like that.”

Damien made a sound he had never heard himself make before, lifting your hips and ramming into you with fervor. You cried out for him, and he bent down, caging you between his arms; just another way for him to stress how much bigger he was than you. His lips brushed against your chest, and he could feel the sweat on your skin. He poked his tongue out to lick a stripe between your breasts, savoring it while he continued to use you passionately. “You want me to cum in you, princess?” He trailed open-mouthed kisses on your breasts, leaving marks in his wake, “Want me to fill you up so you can feel me all night?”

You recited your response, continually shouting enthusiastic "yes"s, certain you could feel his cock in your ribs. He hit the tender spot inside you repeatedly, drawing mangled cries.

“Fuck, daddy, it hurts!” You whined, and Damien paused his movements, pulling out slightly and repositioning himself above you to meet your gaze.

“Good hurt or bad hurt?” He dropped the dominant front, concerned that he had gone too far. His fingers combed through your hair.

“Good,” you whispered, “So good. So deep—so big it hurts.” Your cheeks were flushed, “Don’t stop, daddy, please.”

Damien groaned, pushing his cock back into you, fully sheathed in your cunt and delighting in the way you squeezed him.

“You like when it hurts?” He grunted out between harsh thrusts, straightening up to hold your hips steady once again, “Like having this big cock stretch you out so good that it hurts, baby?”

“Fuck,” you cried, grabbing at his forearm and squeezing like you'd been doing all day, unable to get enough of him, “Yes! Fucking love it!”

“That’s right,” he brought his fingers to your cunt, spreading your folds to get a proper look at how you swallowed him. “Wish you could see how pretty you look, baby—little pussy so full of me.”

You whined, keening at his words, pulling on his arm until he yielded, letting you bring his hand to your face. You licked at his fingers, slipping them beyond your lips and sucking hard to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“God, yes,” he moaned, “Good girl.”

You moaned against his fingers, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth. You felt so full—so complete.

“Can I have my fingers back, princess?” His voice was sultry. You hummed, vibrations traveling through his hand. You kept sucking, unwilling to release them.

Maybe you were still set on acting like a brat.

“No?” He squeezed your hip with his free hand. “You don’t want me to touch you, baby? Don’t wanna cum on my cock?” He stilled his hips, and you squirmed under him, still not backing down. He spanked your cunt with his free hand, and you yelped, giving him the opportunity to take his fingers back from you. A strand of saliva maintained your mouth's connection to his hand. “That’s what I thought.”

He used his spit drenched fingers to knead your clit, still fucking you as deep as he could manage. “You still want me to cum nice and deep in this little pussy?” He asked, and you nodded. “Use your words—c’mon, use your manners.”

“Yes, ple—ase, daddy.”

“You think you deserve it? Acting out all morning—still not listening to what I tell you. You still think you deserve to get filled up?” His fingers moved slow over your clit, ghosting over you and providing friction without the necessary pressure he knew you required. You tried to buck your hips up to get him closer to you, but to no avail.

“I’ll be so good from now on,” You promised, “Won’t ever bother you again, sir.”

Damien bit his bottom lip, growling as he pressed the pad of his finger to your clit, offering more of what you needed while he thrust deep.

“Want you to cum first, baby,” he knit his brow in focus, “You want my cum, need to feel you first, alright?”

You nodded to the best of your ability, concentrated solely on the way he fucked you. One of your hands once again flying to grasp at his arm, the other fisting the sheets underneath you. You threw your head back, eyes closed and mouth open.

“Good girl, cum for me—squeeze me nice and tight.” He was driving into you wildly; deep, fast thrusts that knocked the wind from your lungs, fingers still working your clit. He felt you flutter around him. “Look at me when you cum, princess.” You looked up, eyes meeting his.

You came, crying his name, legs trembling, heat engulfing your stomach before jolts of electricity spread over your muscles. You kept your hand on his arm, squeezing intermittently between gasps and moans.

He kept fucking you, spurred on by your sounds and the feeling of your walls tightening around him. “Fuck,” he grit his teeth, eyes closing and throwing his head back. “God, fuck, that’s my good girl—fuck, I’m gonna cum—gonna cum in this little pussy, just like this, baby.” His thrusts faltered, and he dealt one last deep shove of his hips, cock pressed against your cervix when he came in you, moaning.

He watched you bite your lip, eyes glossed over and hazy with delight as you felt the warm welling of his cum inside of you.

Damien pulled out of you slowly, and you both shuddered; you whined at the sudden loss of contact, unfilled and feeling bare. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.” He lay down next to you, pulling you into his chest and lying quietly with you while you both tried your best to catch your breath.

“Messy.” You muttered after a few minutes of quiet cuddling, finding comfort in the crook of his neck. His heartbeat thrummed in your ear. “Sore.”

“I know,” he ran a hand over your hair, smoothing the frizz he had caused by fucking you on your back. “Bath?”

“Yeah, in a second.” You moved to look up at him, dopey smile on your face. “Should I still call you Professor at school?”

“Why—I mean, in class, yeah, but y—" He looked lost, "...why do you ask?”

“You just seem to prefer daddy lately.” You watched his face turn from curious to a combination of shy and entertained.

“Christ.” He grinned, moving his hand down your back, tracing shapes over your skin.

You sighed at the feeling, falling silent again for a moment. Then: “Didn’t know you were so into size differences.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s just general size differences that do it for me…”

“So not every small thing is going to make you horny?” You pressed your cheek to his chest, “Like, when we go grocery shopping, should I be worried about leaving you in the pasta aisle next to those boxes of tiny star-shaped pasta?”

“Yeah, but not because they’ll turn me on—I used to date tiny star-shaped pasta, and there’s no love lost between us…” He managed to deadpan the delivery before making himself laugh, spirits further heightened by the amused smile you shot up at him before you turned to trail kisses over his shoulder.

“No, I...I don’t know if it’s just the fact that you’re smaller than me.” Damien thought out loud, “I think it’s just the fact that it’s you.”

“Yeah?” You looked up at him, catching his gaze and basking in the warmth of his eyes.

“Yeah.” He concluded, kissing you on the forehead, and your smile widened.

There it was again, the unspoken respect; the quiet tenderness and devotion that you two shared.

“I think I’m ready for that bath now.” You reminded him, arms wrapping around his neck. “But only if you come with me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

[luvistqrzzz]

TRIVIA : LOVE — enhypen hyung line oneshot series

Finding love is not easy they say but what happens when you fall for someone at the most unexpected time in an unexpected way? — whisper a small oops and continue to fall further into the loophole of love.

aka the chronicles of a hopeless romantic soul

PAIRING && GENRE — hyung line x f!reader, can be read as stand alone oneshots, crack, ansgt, fluff, happy ending, more tba in individual fics

TAGLIST — open send an ask or comment to be added (you will be tagged for all the 4 fics) — @flwrshee @aosbie @rsmura @enhastolemyheart @yannew @sophiko22 @www-jungwon @nwjws @in-somnias-world @zzinyl @mrchweeee @ghostiiess @ilovecheese09

PERMANENT TAGLIST — @rikizm @str0l0gy @yenqa @heetoldme @crxzs @s00buwu @nhularin @bunreis @hysgf @mochamvgz @myonos — will be added in all parts

STATUS — to be released !!

AN — TYSM FLO @dollikis FOR THE MAIN BANNER ISTG SHE'S SUCH A GENIUS 🫶🏼🥹 I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF IT ILYSM FLO my banners for the rest of the fic look like shit 😻🤞🏼 i feel the general summary is so cringe ( if someone comes up w a better one then pls help 😭) ALSO the fics in the series are based on rom com books tbh ive been planning and editing the masterlist for the past two weeks ahaha so idk how to feel about it... technically im still on my writing hiatus but ill try to start working on the fics after exams,,, hope yall look forward to it hehe ^_^ !!

"It was like I was trying to memorize him — in case this was the last time I would ever see him." — (failed) STEPS TO NOT MISS YOUR EX

There were a lot of ways your sister's wedding could have gone wrong but none of them included you crossing paths with your ex who happened to be the assistant wedding planner.  Alternatively, where you were apparently "over" Lee Heeseung but an (almost) disastrous wedding made you think otherwise.

a luvistqrzzz rendition of save the date by morgan matson — [ read here ]

“Here's the thing about writing Happily Ever Afters: it helps if you believe in them.” — LETTERS TO YOU, ME AND THE BEACH

When a crippling writer’s block and an almost broke bank account forces you to move to an old family home, you didn’t expect to cross paths with your arch nemesis from high school, the ever obnoxious, Park Jay. But maybe the series of events that unfold during the summer could help you with a romantic book or two.

a luvistqrzzz rendition of beach read by emily henry — [ read here ]

“Note to self: Do not under any circumstances fall in love again.” — A 1000 WAYS BACK TO YOU

When Jake realizes he doesn't want to be (only) friends with you anymore, you are already moving halfway around the world and he's left alone on the other side of the line. Will it take two oblivious idiots 10 years and more than a hundred missed chances to see the feelings they've been hiding for long?

a luvistqrzzz rendition of where rainbows end by cecelia ahern — [ read here ]

"Well sure, who doesn't need a boyfriend? But realistically, those exotic creatures are hard to come by. At least a quality one.” — A STRANGER'S GUIDE TO LOVE AND CHRISTMAS

For Sunghoon, Christmas is like any other day, only a hundred times more crowded. But then he stumbles across a notebook at the local bookstore. A notebook full of... dares. As he and the anonymous author spend the entire Christmas eve swapping stories and dreams around the city of Seoul, where will it lead Sunghoon to?

a luvistqrzzz rendition of dash and lily's book of dares by rachel cohn and david levithan — [ read here ]

works belongs to @luvistqrzzz do not copy repost or translate my work

reblogs and feedback are heavily appreciated

networks- @hyfenet @enhanet @en-web @k-films

[covenha]

Synopsis: Seonghwa watches Hongjoong crash and burn and decides to revisit a good ole tactic to help his buddy out. This is a two-part spin off of the simp!verse. Pairings: nerd!hongjoong x fem!reader; guest appearances from Soobin and Yeonjun from TXT Genre: crack, my piss attempt at humor, hongjoong my poor guy is such a simp god bless his heart Warnings: swear words, witchcraft technically WC: 2.4k (I got carried away, oops) a/n: This monster of a chapter was birthed by my sleep-deprive brain from travelling for the holidays. I'm glad I put it out before christmas though because I wanna write something christmas themed before christmas day. This fic is purely fiction and does not portray what the characters are like irl. Feedbacks, reblogs, and comments are also deeply appreciated and highly encouraged! and as always please enjoy :)) Read part 1 here ; Read simp!hwa here

Seonghwa didn’t like getting involved in other people’s lives (he’s lying to himself, really. The aries in him loves making people his puppets). But seeing his best friend and dorm mate, Hongjoong, pouting on his bed whining about his sim’s wife not reciprocating his feelings, he just knew he had to intervene. If he hears Backburner by Niki playing one more time on Hongjoong’s speaker, he’s going to go clinically insane himself. 

“Okay, Hongjoong you gotta stop this! C’mon get up!” Hongjoong is currently face down on his mattress, mumbling along to the song for the nth time this week. 

The Goo Goo Dolls are dead to me the way you should be too

“Joong, I swear-”

But you bring them up along with how much I fucking miss you!

Hongjoong continues to mumble along the words to the song, almost like he’s drunk. And after this, Seonghwa swears he needs a drink too.

“Look, maybe you’re a bit of a fixer upper. I was too! But now look at me, I’m in a loving relationship and I couldn’t be happier.” he still doesn’t seem convinced at whatever peptalk Seonghwa is trying to feed him. But he does stop his singing so it’s a win in Seonghwa’s eyes. 

“I’m gonna let you in on a little trade secret of mine. As much as I look like the total rizzler that I am. I didn’t exactly get the girl on my looks and charm alone.” Hongjoong furrows his brows at this. Ignoring the fact that his friend just used the word “rizzler” unironically, he was desperate at this point. 

“An Etsy witch?!” he looks at Seonghwa, unimpressed at the boba-eyed boy. 

“Look, you just gotta trust me on this one okay?” Hongjoong sighs, I mean he was desperate. His conjured up future of you with his poodle and 2 goldfish was hanging in the balance right now. So he decided to humor Seonghwa. 

“We just gotta use a little bit of manifestation. Alexa play Take a Chance with Me by Niki!” 

With a newfound determination in his step, Hongjoong walks to class that day with one goal in his head. He had to figure out what your name was. 

“I have to find out her name?” Hongjoong furrows his eyebrows at the instructions. 

“Well, yeah. Seulgi needs to know her name for the ritual to be done correctly.” He replies in a matter-of-fact kind of tone. 

“Why can’t I just use that pink stone thingy you used?” 

“Because she has to wear it for 3 days. And, no offense, but I doubt that she would accept anything from you, Romeo.” Seonghwa pats him on the back. “But this will work, trust!” 

“You better be right, Hwa.” 

When he walks into the amphitheater, you are sitting in your usual spot typing away at something on your laptop. You were wearing a green beanie this time, seeing as the weather was getting colder. Hongjoong couldn’t help but swoon a little on the inside at you. You looked like a cute brussel sprout and he just wanted to bite you (but of course in a loving and sweet kind of way.) 

“Hi!” Hongjoong starts. “We talked for a little bit last week… I don’t know if you remember.” He shyly smiles at you. 

Oh, you remembered. He was the same guy who just randomly shouted at you before the class started. He was cute, you’ll admit that. He had a sort of nerdy vibe to him that you usually found cute in a guy. If only it weren’t for the piss poor first impression he pulled. You notice he still had that jittery look in his eyes, the same one he had last week. You didn’t like where this was going. 

“Oh, I remember.” You give him a tight smile. 

“Oh!” he manages to blurt out, albeit very loudly. This startles you and makes you jump a little in your seat. And this also causes a ruckus in the amphitheater causing eyes to look at the interaction between the both of you again. Great, you think. So much for keeping a low profile. 

“My name is Kim Hongjoong. Can I ask you what your name is?” He looks down at you with a hopeful look in his eyes. He really was cute, you think. But you hated all the eyes on you. You wanted this to end as quickly as possible and return to your peace and quiet. But you also didn’t want to embarrass this guy in front of the whole class. So, you do the next best thing. 

“My name is Wendy Lu.” You give him a fake name. 

I mean, what he won’t know won’t kill him right? You get him off your back. He gets to search up some finance major that frequents the cafe that you work at. And in your defense, she was totally cute! She also had a caffeine addiction but you digress. 

“Nice to meet you, Wendy!” Hongjoong rushes off to find his seat at the back of the room with a beaming smile on his face. This Etsy witch Seulgi sure did have her work cut out for her. But I mean, if she could get Seonghwa a girlfriend, she could totally get me one, right? 

“So, her name is Wendy Lu. I came up to her this morning and asked for her name, and she totally smiled at me! I got this one in the bag.” Hongjoong is beaming with glee at Seonghwa. 

They’re walking down a part of town that is a bit of a ways away from their usual path to their dorm but they had to make a detour to go to Seulgi’s physical store to get some supplies. She wrote down some instructions for Hongjoong to follow in his ritual for love spell casting and then they were off on their merry way back to their dorms. Unfortunately, Seonghwa had a 10-page essay he had due that very night to which he was very sorely behind on. 

“Can we go grab some coffee first? Either I’m going to finish this essay or it will finish me.” Seonghwa sighs, a stressed look on his face as he turns to the closest cafe that was on their route. 

That’s when they are greeted with you manning the cash register of the cafe. There’s a line at the cash register because this is usually when the cafe is at its busiest and you don’t even notice them coming in. Hongjoong is trying to contain himself and keep his chill. But he can’t help it if you look so effortlessly beautiful with your hair tied up and in your cute barista apron. The man is basically shooting heart eyes your way but you’re too busy taking orders. 

“My usual, please. To go.” Wendy Lu tries to give you the best smile she can, but it just ends up looking like a twitch on her face. Midterms must be coming up, you concluded. Sucks to be a finance major. One iced americano with 4 espresso shots, coming right up. You finish ringing in her order and give the ticket away for your co-worker to start on her drink. 

“Hello, what can I get for you today?” You bring your head up from the cash register and feel a dread settle into your stomach. It was the guy from earlier. Hongjoong, if you recall correctly. 

“I’ll have a Vanilla latte, and a pistachio bagel please.” Seonghwa replies. 

“Oh, and uhm. I’ll have a Caramel Macchiato with a tuna melt.” Hongjoong adds. 

“Will you have this for dine-in or take-out?” 

“We’ll have it for take-out, please.” 

And as you finish ringing up their orders, you forget one crucial detail that just managed to slip your mind. Wendy Lu. 

“Iced americano for Wendy Lu!” your co-worker, Soobin, shouts. 

Both boys look at you with confused eyes as Wendy Lu grabs her drink from Soobin and rushes off. You try to ignore the tension in the room but Hongjoong blurts out, “I thought you were Wendy Lu?” 

“Well, Wendy is a pretty common name.” You just nervously giggle off and hope he doesn’t press further. 

“Hey, Y/n. Yeonjun needs help rolling out the croissant dough in the kitchen.” Soobin interrupts the awkward conversation. “I’ll finish that up for you, go help him.” 

“Right.” You give them one last glance before walking over to the kitchen. 

And we are back to square one with Hongjoong. Well, not necessarily square one, more like square one and a half. Seonghwa likes to look on the brighter side of things. 

“Hey, at least you know her name! And besides, this ritual thing will still work, so what if she gave you a fake name at first.” Seonghwa tries to console his distraught dorm mate. 

“When you become best man at my wedding, can you leave this part out of your speech please?” Hongjoong just lies on the floor and pouts at him. 

“Oh, the part where you crashed and burned the first time you met your future wife? Sure.” Seonghwa deadpans at his friend. 

“Now, just do the ritual, my guy. I have an essay to write and you have a girl to wife up.” Seonghwa motions for him to get up. 

“Fine.” Hongjoong gets up and goes to get his supplies for the ritual but notices that the instructions for the ritual are gone. He furrows his eyebrows and digs through his things trying to find them but they don’t seem to be anywhere. He asks Seonghwa if he’s seen them anywhere but he claims to not even have held the paper. This confirms a theory he’s had in his head that sends a storm of unease to his stomach. 

He remembers putting his stuff out while waiting for his tuna melt to be heated up. The last time he remembers seeing that pink sheet of paper was at the cafe table. He had to go back to that cafe. He checks the time and it’s around the time that it closes, if he remembers correctly from the door. If he rushes now, he could get to the cafe right before it closes. 

So he rushes out the door yelling out that he was going to the cafe, leaving a very confused Seonghwa to attempt to finish his essay. 

Hongjoong arrives at the cafe on a mission to find that pink-ruled piece of paper that holds the key to his happiness. The cafe is deserted at this point, the door sign says “closed” but he can still see you and your two other co-workers cleaning up the establishment. He gulps.

Here goes nothing. 

He knocks on the door to the shop and points to the locked door. 

You and Soobin shoot each other a look and Soobin walks up to the door.

“So that was lover boy, I assume?” Soobin glances down at you as you wipe down the counters behind the cash register.

“Oh scarf guy?” Yeonjun pipes up. 

“Yeah. Kim Hongjoong.” You tell them. “Guy seems sweet and all but he brings so much attention during class. Made me want to disappear into my seat.” 

“Well, seems like lover boy’s got it bad. He was going to cast a spell on you.” Soobin says trying to imitate a dracula accent. 

“What? No way.” Yeonjun dismisses him. 

“Look. He left it at the table they were at. Even went to that trinket shop down at the corner next to the deli. Poor guy was going to get Wendy Lu to fall head over heels in love with him.” He waves a pink piece of paper around. 

You grab it and look at what’s written down and stare in utter disbelief. Was he really willing to go this far? 

“Man’s a simp if I’ve ever seen one.” Soobin concludes. 

“He just doesn’t know when to give up. I mean, you were pretty straightforward the first time around. Take the L, my guy.” Yeonjun shakes his head. 

“Hmmm, well I thought it was a bit harsh. But he is persistent. I'll give him that.” Soobin shrugs. 

“Ugh, I was too harsh, wasn’t I?” You ask, to no one in particular. But you didn’t mean to be harsh. Being the center of attention was never your favorite thing and it brought out a side of you that had no filter. 

“Are you forgetting the fact that he hired an Etsy witch to make him fall in love with you?” Yeonjun reminds you. 

“Well, I don’t really believe in that kind of stuff. Pink rocks and weird drawings? Be fucking for real.” 

And as luck would have it, a knock on the door stops your discourse. It was Hongjoong. You and Soobin share a look and he goes to tell him that the place is closed but then you stop him. 

“Wait, Soob. I need to talk to him.” You stop Soobin as he reaches for the door knob. 

Hongjoong panics when you see him walk over to the door knob. Oh God, she knows. She’s gonna think I’m some creep! I mean, on paper it does seem creepy that some guy who she’s talked to like thrice has some instructions from some dodgy Etsy witch on how to make her fall in love with him but he swears he means no harm. 

You go over to open the door. 

“Hey, Hongjoong.” You start. You wipe your sweaty hands off using your apron. Confrontation was never your best feat, but it seems like the universe had different plans for the both of you that evening. 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for being kinda harsh to you the first time we talked. You seem like a sweet guy, but you kinda put me on the spot and I was pretty uncomfortable back then….” You explain yourself. 

“O-oh! Well, I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I never meant to do that I swear! I just, you’re…. Pretty.” He shyly smiles at you. 

This is the first time you are actually able to take a good look at him and you start to notice little details you never did. The slope of his nose, the glasses that frame his face, the dimples that decorate his cheeks, and the one finger he has painted with nail polish. He was kinda cute, you concluded. And as he calls you pretty, you can���t help the heat that rises up your cheeks at his confession. 

“Well, if you wanna, we could do it the old fashioned way. You know, the one where there’s no Etsy witch involved.” You shoot a small smile his way when he starts floundering and trying to come up with a way to explain himself. 

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Hongjoong walks back to the dorm with a dumb smile on his face. Seonghwa was so totally gonna be his best-man at his wedding.