#you always choose such nice colours

[yaksha-lover]

Someone New

Summary: Travelling worlds has its side effects; namely, having visions of multiple timelines. As you get closer to the housewardens after their overblots, you begin to see the possible future that awaits the two of you, if only you decide to choose them.

Overblot gang x Reader (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus)

GN but mentions of biological children - imagine anything you want though (magic spells that make anything possible!)

i. blooms of red and bursts of reason; riddle rosehearts

Even after knowing him for months, you don’t touch Riddle until long after his overblot. He isn’t truly comfortable with you, with anyone, touching him so casually.

The chill of autumn ghosts your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms. When he notices you rubbing your forearms to gather some warmth, Riddle insists on offering you his coat. Something about ‘rule five hundred and nine.’

His ways don’t always make sense to you, but you appreciate the sentiment behind the action. You take his coat, uttering your gratitude to him, although it’s quite small considering his stature. He offers you a small smile; in Riddle’s case, you know that means a lot.

You can’t help but return his smile, the small affection making your heart stir suddenly. It’s nice - spending time alone with Riddle. At the beginning of the year, you’d never have imagined becoming close with him. It was hard to see past the strict housewarden who never let anything go.

You think he’d made assumptions about you too. About you being a troublemaker, someone not worth his time, just another problem. You’re thankful you’ve both come around.

You stare at him from the corner of your eye as you walk together. He truly is gentle at heart, despite what his temper might suggest. His red hair sits perfectly on his head, cutely framing his face. It makes you think of his mother; his hair is perhaps the only good thing she passed onto him.

You snap out of your thoughts when you step a little too hard into a puddle and accidentally splash your pants, slightly dirtying them. Riddle turns when he hears your grumble, and you prepare yourself for a scolding. You won’t hold it against him; it was your fault for being careless.

Instead, Riddle only shakes his head gently, before asking if you’d like to stop at Ramshackle to change before you two arrive at the library.

Your surprise forces you to take a moment and just look at him. So far he’s come from the person he was only a couple months ago. You feel strangely sentimental, so you reach out to touch his shoulder, intending to thank him.

As soon as you make contact with him, the world around you shifts, brown and orange leaves being traded for the bright green of spring.

-

You sit under a pagoda tree, the wind gently blowing the pages of your novel. It’s strange - you’re seeing things as yourself, but you’re not in control. It’s as though you’re replaying the memory of someone else. At the sound of someone’s voice, ‘you’ look up. It’s there that you spot familiar red hair; it forms a stark contrast to the vegetation around you.

He’s not alone, either. In Riddle’s arms is a small baby, with identical hair to who you presume is his father. It’s a striking image - Riddle with his child. He’s noticeably older; if you had to guess, he seems to be in his late twenties.

“MC? Sorry to bother, but he’s been refusing to eat today. I checked our parenting books thrice, but I haven’t found any suitable solutions. I thought you might know how to help him.”

“That’s okay,” you hear your voice say. “How is our little guy doing?”

Riddle passes the baby to you, and you finally take notice of his other features; this child has the same colour eyes as you, and a similarly shaped nose.

You then catch a glimpse of the ring sparking on your left hand, and the other on Riddle’s.

“Hmm,” you’re vision-self says. “Let’s go back home, I’ll try to see what’s bothering him.”

“Alright, dear. I’ll start on dinner,” older-Riddle replies.

He takes your hand and helps you up, before you walk back toward the house in the distance, your hand still in his.

-

When the greens turn to orange, you blink, finding Riddle looking at you. You’re back at NRC.

“Are you alright, prefect? You seem distracted.”

“I’m okay, Riddle. I just…never mind. Let’s get going.”

You decide not to tell him about your strange…Dream? Vision? It all seemed so real…you could smell the tree sap and feel the breeze flow against your skin. You held a baby. Your baby…with Riddle? The two of you were older, but would it really be possible for it to truly be your future? That seemed ridiculous. Then again, you thought the same thing about magic a few months ago.

You resolve to keep this strange occurrence to yourself until you can figure out what happened. It’s hard to look at Riddle, having now seen the two of you married and with a child together. You’re more flustered than usual. Was this just some kind of daydream projection of your fantasies about him? You weren’t even really sure you could say you have a ‘crush’ on him - after all, you’ve only recently begun getting close. Not that you haven’t thought of him that way at all but-

You’re sure Riddle takes notice of your strange behaviour throughout your study session but, thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

ii. dizzying dreams and endless nights; leona kingscholar

You’d fought Leona hard to get where you are now - on the left side of his bed, with Grim sleeping at the base. You’re exhausted with everything going on with Azul (hopefully) temporarily taking your dorm, but it’s hard to sleep with how worried you are about the situation.

Leona’s room is dim, moonlight cascading over the silk sheets. You can barely make out his form, curled up in the blankets and turned away from you.

You don’t want to disturb the sleeping lion, but he happens to be hogging the entire blanket. You suppose you should’ve known, but it wasn’t as though you had time to take anything from Ramshackle.

When the chill becomes too much to ignore, you try to tug part of the blanket away from him. This causes Leona to roll over, arm suddenly falling around your back.

You’re hit with another wave of blurry vision as the moon melts into the sun.

-

“Morning,” you hear a voice, your voice, say to him. Your tone is playful and lightheartedly chastising. You can feel his arms wrapped snuggly around you.

It’s happening again, the same as with Riddle. You’re seeing things from your own eyes, but you’re not in control.

A groan comes from behind you, Leona shuffling his position but refusing to open his eyes. His bare legs brush yours under the covers. “Too early. Go back to sleep.” He pulls you closer into his chest.

‘You’ laugh gently, turning around in his arms so you’re now face to face. “You promised the queen we would attend this banquet. Especially after we missed the last one.”

He looks older here too, but as gorgeous as ever. Despite just waking up, Leona’s dark hair falls perfectly around his face. The room is different than his one at school; it’s still a bedroom, but it looks as though you’re back in the castle of Sunset Savanna.

Leona finally opens his eyes, looking at you with a heavy gaze before flipping you below him. His arms hold him straight above you, looking down on you lying prone on the bed. “Hmph.” He leans in close until your lips are only millimetres apart. “We have some time, don’t we?”

You’re left staring into those piercing green eyes, entranced by them being closer than ever.

With that, he leans in completely, lips brushing over your own as he begins to kiss you. The longer it goes, the more ravenous he becomes, more and more greedy for the taste of your lips.

-

When the sunlight fades to moonlight, you’re left embarrassed. That was - so much worse than with Riddle?! Ugh, it’s so awkward with Leona sleeping beside you now, like you’ve violated some kind of rule by thinking of him that way.

You’re too afraid to even consider the possibility of it being some kind of dream. It came on so suddenly, but you hadn’t been asleep. The whole thing seemed so real, too elaborate for a simple dream. No, it had to be more than that - some kind of vision - but how could that be true? And what did that mean about your vision with Riddle? Surely they couldn’t both be correct.

You’d intended on ignoring it before, but with Leona’s vision, that seemed futile. Perhaps the staff would have some answers for you…

iii. seashells shimmer in the forever sea; azul ashengrotto

Azul isn’t one for touching, and this time neither are you. Ever since the Crowley’s theory about alternate universes and rips in time since you’ve travelled worlds, you’ve decided it’s best to stay away from touching too many people. It was…interesting, to see a possible future with Riddle and Leona, but it’s certainly left you ambivalent. It’s a bit difficult not to avoid them when your mind drifts to your ‘visions’ while in their vicinity.

Riddle is kind enough to ignore your sudden shyness, but Leona has openly called you out on how flustered you get around him. He seems both confused and amused about the development, and his smugness is too much to handle sometimes.

Fortunately for you, Leona doesn’t hang around the Mostro Lounge much, making it the perfect place for you to avoid him. You try to force Ace and Deuce to come with you and study there, but the two have been reluctant considering their previous encounters with the twins while trying to get Azul’s picture.

That means you’re left to go alone, sometimes. Well, alone except for Grim. He never leaves you hanging as long as you agree to buy him food. Just like today, where he sits passed out across the other side of the booth, having eaten himself into a food coma.

You try to return to your homework, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch Azul staring at you from the staff area. When you make eye contact, he only waves, smile dripped in plasticity. When you don’t clue in, he walks toward your table, eventually taking a seat across from you, beside Grim.

“Hello, Prefect,” he says.

“Azul.”

Unlike Riddle - and even to some extent, Leona - you haven’t really gotten close to Azul after his overblot. He doesn’t exactly want you to, it seems.

“I noticed you’ve been frequenting the Lounge quite frequently as of late - I just wanted to thank you, for being a dedicated patron.”

“I’m not doing it for you, but you’re welcome, I guess.”

“Ah yes, I presumed. So, who are you doing it for?”

Your mind snaps to thoughts of you and Leona in the future, his arms around you in his bed-

“Nothing. No one. Do you need something, Azul?”

Despite your attempt at neutrality, Azul must see something on your face as you attempt to rid your mind of your vision of Leona. He leans in a bit, curious to observe you.

You begin packing up your things, too distracted to continue studying.

“No need to leave on my account,” he says.

“It’s not.”

He stands at the same time as you, presumably planning to head back to his office. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t noticed Grim migrate to his place sleeping on the floor. When you take a step forward and trip, Azul is, tragically, directly in front of you.

Your arms reach out instinctively, but instead of stabilizing yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, the force of your fall knocks the both of you over.

As soon as you make contact with him, your vision swirls into another world full of beautiful blues.

-

The coral sea is even more breathtaking than you remember. You’ve only been a couple times, but the drastic differences between the land and ocean always manage to stun you. The water is so clear that it practically glitters as you wave your hands through it, feeling the water pass refreshingly across your smooth skin.

You’ve never been to this specific place before (presumably, it doesn’t exist yet), but it’s clear what it is: a restaurant. If the octopus logo has anything to do with it, clearly it’s Azul’s. It wasn’t too surprising to you that he would have more restaurants open in the future, but you weren’t sure what you were doing here. If the pattern followed, it seemed inevitable that you and Azul would be…romantically-involved in this timeline, but that just didn’t seem possible.

At least you had befriended Riddle and Leona to an extent - Azul looked down on your existence as a magicless person, seemingly entirely apathetic about you in general. You had to admit, the feelings were mutual considering his treatment of you and your friends.

You feel ‘yourself’ look around the restaurant, before heading back into the staff area. You knock on the door to an office, and Azul opens it with a smile.

He, too, is older. His face has matured a bit and he also wears his hair a bit longer. Azul still has his grey suit, though.

“Hello, MC. Done for the day?”

“I guess so, boss,” your voice replied cheekily. Boss?? Why would your future self ever work for-

“Hmm, I may have more tasks for you, why don’t you come in~”

With that, future-Azul takes your hand and tugs you into his office. On his desk sits several picture frames; one of his parents and one of his wedding. You happened to spot yourself in the second one.

It’s a bit jarring to see; you and Azul posed together, dressed up in such fancy clothing. His arm sits around your shoulder, and yours around his waist. Before this, the two of you have never even shook hands.

You hear yourself giggling, cornering Azul against the wall as soon as he closes the door and bringing your arms around his neck to kiss him.

You can already feel the dread forming; you definitely won’t be able to spend time at the Mostro Lounge after this…

As the two of you pull away, Azul starts talking about a reunion for your graduating class at NRC.

“I told them maybe - with the new branch of our restaurant opening, we may wish to stay back. Then again, it could be a great opportunity to network for us. What do you think, dear?”

Before you can hear your reply, the world fades back into the familiar lighting of the Mostro Lounge.

-

A groaning Azul is beneath you, having (unfortunately for him) broken your fall.

You utter a quiet ‘sorry!’ as you get off of him, still a bit flustered from your vision.

He gets up, dusting himself off. Thankfully, the two of you are in a rather secluded area of the place, so no one was there to witness your embarrassment.

Azul can no longer maintain the facade of kind gentleman as he turns back to you, voice dripping with passive aggressiveness.

“I would prefer if you refrained from touching me in the future. Thank you.”

With that, he gets up and leaves. You shake your head - how could there possibly be any timeline where you’ve married him?

iv. jaded jewels shine, awaken from slumber; jamil viper

While helping out with the VDC, you’ve had time to get close to Jamil. Much closer, in fact, than with any of the others you’ve had visions of before. Now you’ve avoided touching him for a whole other reason - you’re scared you won’t have a vision.

Spending time with Jamil has made you realize things you’d never thought about him before - his handsomeness, intelligence, and talent. You’ve developed a bit of a crush on him, considering how much you admire him.

However, you have no idea how he feels. Jamil has never been one to express his feelings so outwardly, but you can’t get a read on him at all. He’s been polite with you, but he’s treated you basically the same as everyone else.

Your attempts at getting closer to him have been rather unsuccessful - the group is so busy practicing, everyone’s been way too exhausted to really do anything.

You manage to get a moment alone at Ramshackle when the rest of the boys have gone to sleep, and you find Jamil sitting out on the porch alone.

“Hey,” you say. “Mind if I join you?”

Jamil turns to look at you before nodding his head. You take a seat beside him, following his gaze to the stars. The sky is dark but the moon casts a glow on him, making Jamil look beautiful under the light.

“What are you thinking about?”

He hums for a moment before replying, “What I’m always thinking about - how things will just go back to normal again after the end of the VDC.”

You don’t really know what to say; his fears seem inevitable, no matter how much you want to comfort him. “I’m sorry…I can’t understand what it’s like for you, but…what if you could still have some kind of happiness in your life?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…you could still find love?”

“Find love? You think that’s what I care about?” Jamil’s tone is bitter, but his voice never rises. “Sorry, but you’re awfully naive. Things like love won’t make my life better. It’ll only complicate things.”

“I-I understand.”

When your voice shakes, Jamil finally looks up at you, sighing when he spots your watery eyes.

“Prefect, relax. I’m not angry at you. It’s just a frustrating situation for me, I’m sure you know. I don’t have time to think about love. I just need to focus on myself.”

With that, he pats your shoulder before standing up, leaving you alone to stare at the night sky. Jamil hadn’t even realized you were trying to confess to him, and you felt terrible for even trying to bring it up. Of course he wouldn’t be able to think about something like your stupid little crush - you feel so silly for even bringing it up, you should’ve known better since you know all about his circumstances.

It was then you realized - Jamil had touched you for the first time. He touched you and nothing happened.

The first one you’d been seriously interested in, and there seemed to be no future for the two of you.

Was it possible you’d already messed up this timeline, making it impossible for that future with him to occur? The whole thing made your head spin and your heart ache.

v. swept into spotlights, doused in delicacy; vil schoenheit

Vil had been a surprising comfort in the wake of your unrequited crush on Jamil. The two of you had gotten closer after VDC, and Vil had a way of pulling honesty out of you. It had only taken him a couple days of observing your awkwardness to guess at the situation.

He’d been a shoulder to cry on, both literally and figuratively. There’d been a moment when he first pulled you into his arms that you’d wondered - hoped - that he might be a possibility in your future, but alas, no vision. It was a bit disappointing but you knew it was wrong to feel too badly; it would be greedy of you to desire a connection with so many knowing you could only end up with one.

Vil became a friend - someone you could rely on, someone who could make you laugh, and someone who couldn’t break your heart.

Even when you would start to feel something more than platonic for him, you had to push it away. He was certainly gorgeous and talented and perfect…but he wouldn’t be that for you. He couldn’t, apparently, and maybe he wouldn’t want to either.

Vil was more than just a fellow student - he was an actor, a model, a celebrity - someone too far to reach. Even if you had a vision with him, would it matter?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Vil’s hand on your cheek, turning your face to get the correct angle to apply your eyeliner; he’d insisted you get dressed up with him and Rook to go out tonight.

“Move onto the bed,” Vil says.

You stand from the chair in front of his vanity and move hesitantly toward his bed. His silky sheets look perfect - you don’t want to ruin them. Looking back at him, Vil rolls his eyes and gently pushes you toward the bed until you lay back.

You’re left staring up at him on your back, while he sits above you, applying the rest of his products on your face. He’s so close to you, his luscious golden hair almost tickles your face. His pretty purple eyes don’t focus on your own, following his makeup brush.

He looks cute like this, concentrating hard to perfect your makeup. He bites his lip gently, drawing your attention to his pretty mouth, shining with the pink gloss he’d applied earlier.

When he leans away to pick up the blush, you mistakenly think he’s finished and try to sit up. At the same time that you rise, Vil turns back to face you. The timing coincides into an accidental and brief meeting of your lips.

It takes a second for you to realize that the dizziness your feel isn’t due to your racing heart, but the sudden appearance of another vision.

-

The lights flash, bright and blinding. The sharp clicks of cameras obnoxiously disrupt the music heard softly on the street from nearby restaurants and clubs.

You’re rushing away with Vil, hand in hand as he pulls you toward a black limo waiting up ahead. You nearly stumble, but Vil is quick to stabilize you.

Once the two of you escape the paparazzi, you’re left sitting side by side in the backseat of the limo, both breathing heavily. Vil gives the driver instructions to return back to his penthouse.

He turns to you. “Are you okay, darling?”

You feel yourself nod in affirmation, taking ahold of his hand again. He squeezes back.

“I’m sorry they’ve ruined another date. I know it’s hard for you not to have much privacy, but it seems no matter what I do, they find us.” He strokes your hand with his thumb.

“It’s okay, Vil. I knew what I was getting into, dating a celebrity and all that.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Still, they shouldn’t bother us. I may be a celebrity, but you aren’t. You deserve privacy.” He sighs gently. “Has this…impacted our previous discussion?”

You look back up at him. You assume based on past visions that he’s much older now, but he’s kept his youthful and gorgeous look. Even now, his purple eyes make your heart flutter embarrassingly.

“Of course not. I want us to have kids together. You’ll be the best dad and protect them from all this. I know it.”

He kisses you on the lips this time just as your vision begins to end.

-

Vil snaps his fingers over you as you come too, rolling his eyes.

“I know my lips are practically intoxicating, but did you really get that worked up over an accidental peck between friends?”

Your face becomes hot at Vil’s statement, embarrassment setting in. He doesn’t know how right he is.

“Ah, sorry. I got…distracted.”

Vil laughs gently. “Why? Thinking of more of my kisses? They’ll cost you~”

When you stammer in response, he just ruffles your hair gently.

“I’m just teasing you.”

You stare at him for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think we can do each other’s makeup platonically anymore.” If it ever was, that is.

Vil rolls his eyes dramatically again.

vi. hidden in shadows, warmth comes in waves; idia shroud

The incident with Vil leaves you even more confused than before. It makes you wonder…if just touching isn’t always enough to have a vision, does that mean a future where you end up with Jamil is still possible? You don’t even want to hope, knowing the heartache he’d unknowingly caused you before.

And Vil…having a vision about him makes this complicated. When it was just lingering thoughts you could push to the side of your mind, your growing infatuation with him was easy to ignore. Actually seeing your future with him, has made your heart swell and ache at the same time.

You don’t exactly choose to become friends with Idia, it just kind of happens. Just like the previous situations where you’d attempted to avoid the star of your latest vision, Idia is someone who seems like a good choice to help you stay away from them. He isn’t good friends with Jamil or Vil (or frankly anyone). Incidentally, the two of you become friends after a small argument over an anime (the only topic that allows Idia to temporarily overcome his social anxiety just to disagree with you), and you begin to hang out occasionally.

The more your old friends hang out with the VDC group, the more you begin to make excuses and go play video games with Idia and Ortho.

It feels strangely easy, spending time with Idia. You never have to pretend, and with your shared interests, conversation comes naturally. Once you’ve spent enough time around him, he feels much more comfortable around you, willing to share his (strong) thoughts and opinions on everything.

Idia is very…different than you would’ve guessed before you knew him well. While he can be rude, you find it more funny than offensive, and it’s pretty fun to banter with him. His room holds small glimpses into his true personality; video games he loves, posters of his favourite characters. His passion for these things is clear as day.

Sitting on Idia’s couch, you’re playing against him and Ortho in Super Smash Bros. Ortho immediately claimed Kirby, proceeding to destroy the both of you multiple times until he emerged as the winner.

Despite the loss, both you and Idia can’t help but smile. Ortho makes a celebratory noise, before turning back to you.

“MC, we are about to encounter another rip in the time continuum,” Ortho says. “I’m so excited, do you think it will finally be my big brother’s turn to earn your love?”

“What?” you and Idia say for different reasons.

“How do you know about that?

“Earn their love??”

“It’s part of my programming to monitor all things involving space and time.”

“Huh. Okay.”

You suppose it’s true, you’ve never really touched Idia before. The two of you got along like best friends; it wasn’t so much of a stretch to say you could end up having a future together. You hadn’t thought about it much, in light of recent events.

“Usually you’re the only one able to see, but since Idia’s here, why don’t I show him too!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ortho,” Idia says.

“I think it will be good for you, brother! Don’t worry, I’ll give the both of you some privacy to see your future. It’s approaching in three, two-”

When his countdown reaches one, Ortho plops your hand on top of Idia, making your vision fade once again.

-

The Island of Woe is familiar to you by now, after everything that went down with Idia. The architecture remains impersonal; the uniformity of the blank steel walls reminds you of a maze. The thought had unsettled you, the last time you visited.

Strangely enough, you don’t feel that same sense of anxiety and claustrophobia in this vision. You’re strangely calm; it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that exposure and familiarity has dulled these feelings.

The scene is devastatingly unsurprising. You suppose you’d always known what Idia’s future would be; what all his ancestors futures had been. That hadn’t lessened the spark of hope you’d been carrying that perhaps things might turn out differently than he believed.

You had a bad habit of that: false hope for Jamil, false hope for Idia. It didn’t truly do anyone any good, no matter how much you wished it to.

You’re in Idia’s room. Aside from its size and how nice it is, the decor is a clear giveaway. The posters that line the walls aren’t from media you recognize, so it must be future content, but it’s all in line with Idia’s current tastes. You’re happy he has that, at least. You even catch a glimpse of a couple of his old posters from NRC rolled up in his closet. A few pieces even stand out, things that seem much more suited to your taste than his own.

A familiar head of blue hair wanders into the room.

“Hey MC.”

“Hi Idia,” you feel your lips gently pull up in the corners. Despite ‘your’ outward expression in the vision, you feel a small twinge of pain in your chest.

Idia’s entrance into his room (your room?) lets you take a close look at him. Even ten or so years later, it seems he hasn’t been able to rid himself of his eye bags. Even so, you still think he looks nice, his vibrant hair illuminating his pretty face. He’s cute, smiling back at you.

“Sorry I’m back late again. There’s been so many problems with the new system update, even Ortho can’t handle it himself.” Idia’s expression drops a little.

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

Idia comes to sit beside you on the bed, head turning toward you. “Is it though? Stuck down here with me, and I can’t even be by your side half the time. I doubt this is the life you- anyone would dream of.”

“I miss you, of course I do. But I chose this life. I chose you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

The tears well in your eyes before you can stop them, and Idia’s panic only rises once he notices.

“Gah!! No, MC, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that. Sevens, I’m so stupid.” Idia awkwardly pulls you into his arms, and you begin wipe your tears onto his shoulder as you settle down.

“Sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you sniffle.

“Don’t apologize, it was my fault. I don’t know why, every time I try to tell you how I feel, it always just comes out wrong. I try to tell you that I love you, that you deserve better than to be stuck here with me, and it comes out like that.”

“Idia…I know what you meant, it just took me by surprise to hear those words.”

“Loving you is supposed to be the one thing I can do to make your life here better, and I can’t even do it right.”

“Says who? Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?”

“I made you cry, MC! Something is wrong with me…”Idia’s cheeks flush pink as he stares at his feet.

You want to comfort him, to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but you quickly feel yourself being pulled away. You’ve never wished more than to have a few more moments in a vision.

-

The room remains silent for a minute after the vision ends, the both of you trying to process what had happened.

“Idia…” you say, trying to bridge the gap between you, but not exactly knowing how.

“Maybe- I uh - maybe you should leave?” Idia says sheepishly.

“Leave? What did I do?” you say, feeling a bit hurt by his suddenly rejection.

“Nothing! I just- I’m sorry, I need some time. I can’t speak right now, I need to be alone.” Idia is clearly panicked, so you follow his brother to the exit.

“Sorry, MC,” Ortho says, opening the door for you. “Sometimes Idia gets overwhelmed in situations like this. Please, give him time and…please don’t give up on him like everyone else does.”

vii. sun and moon, forever in orbit; malleus draconia

You’ve known Malleus as long as you’ve known Riddle, but despite your blooming friendship, you’ve never had the chance to touch him before. The fae always seemed to prefer to keep his distance when visiting you at Ramshackle; close enough to talk, too far to touch.

That all changes when you finally agree to join the gargoyle studies club. It’s not as though you’d purposefully avoided it before, there’d just always been too much going on to really think about joining any of the clubs.

With Idia shutting you out, you were in dire need of a new hobby that would allow you to finally avoid thinking about what had gone down with him in the days before.

When Malleus finally strolls by Ramshackle again, you’re able to inform him of your intention to join his club.

It’s a remarkable thing, having stunned the fae prince into momentary silence at your request. He furrows his brow before replying.

“I do hope you aren’t making a joke at my expense, prefect. That would be rather cruel of you.”

You wave away his words, telling him that you’re entirely serious. He looks you up and down for a moment before a playful grin pulls at his lips.

“I suppose I will see you in our meeting on thursday, then. Please, don’t be late. We have much to see.”

-

Weekly meetings become bi-weekly, and soon you’re meeting up with Malleus almost daily. Since it’s only the two of you in the club, you take certain liberties when it comes to subject matter. You agree to let Malleus show you some ruins and he, in turn, agrees to watch the bachelor with you.

You don’t even like the show, but Malleus’ reactions are the real entertainment. He’s surprisingly sassy and opinionated about all the drama, although he tends to get confused on ‘human customs’ as he so puts it.

“Why won’t he make a choice? It’s clear who he truly desires,” Malleus asks one day, sitting on Ramshackle’s beat up couch as you watch the reality show together on your laptop.

“I don’t know, the guys on this show are always like this. They want to keep around as many options as possible until they’re forced to choose,” you mumble, mouth full of popcorn.

“Human men are fickle.”

You laugh. “Fae aren’t?”

He takes a moment to answer. “Some. Not dragon fae. Once we choose a person to love, we give everything to them, and expect the same in return.”

You don’t know how to reply to that, so you turn back to the screen. Throughout the rest of the episode, you can feel Malleus’ gaze flicker between yourself and the show, not fully invested like you are.

-

You’re not oblivious to his hints. It’s clear that things between you are become more than friendly, but it’s difficult to know how you feel about it.

On one hand, Malleus has always felt strangely charming to you, despite how he often came off to others. There was something about him, or perhaps just the sum of his parts that came together perfectly to make him into a wonderful being.

Spending time together and getting close felt nice, but you were far too used to this pattern to not feel worried about some kind of impending doom. It seemed every time you had a nice friendship, things would fall apart as soon as you found out about your future together.

Even when pleasant, the strangeness of the experience makes it uncomfortable to be around them again. You’ve felt bad avoiding your friends, but there isn’t much you can do to change your feelings.

Even worse - what if your vision with Malleus isn’t positive? After what you saw with Idia, the fear lingers in your mind.

Once you opened the gate, questions begun to flood your brain. What would a future be like with Malleus? Would that even be possible? Would you be his consort? Would a relationship between a human and fae be accepted? Would you be able to handle it? The anxieties were endless.

You think about telling him about everything. About Riddle, Leona…but how would he react? You tell yourself that it’s better if he doesn’t know. At least not until after.

He’s the first one you touch on purpose; you have to know.

A casual stroll around Ramshackle leads to the purposeful brushing of fingers, and you’re pulled into a familiar haze.

-

You’ve never been to Briar Valley, but you know with certainty that your vision takes place there.

The hall you sit in is long, gold trims running along the walls. The black dragon heraldry mounted above the fireplace at the end of the room looks more expensive than anything you’ve seen in your life.

Two wide doors swing open, and Malleus finally enters the room. He isn’t alone.

A small black shape zooms past his legs, plopping itself in front of you.

“Daddy and I picked you flowers from the garden!”

The blur isn’t some shadow, but instead a small child. Five or six, if you had to guess. If her words didn’t give away her parentage, the small, stubby horns peaking out from the top of her head of dark hair certainly told you this was Malleus’ daughter.

“Thank you, sweetie.” You smile at her, taking the flowers she drops in your hand. There’s still some dirt and roots attached, but she’s so adorable, you truly don’t mind.

“Can Uncle Silver take me horseback ridding today?” she asks you. “Daddy said it’s okay with him if it’s okay with you.” She blinks at you sweetly.

“Alright, I suppose. Just be careful, dear,” you reply.

“I have the best parents in all the kingdoms!” she shouted, running along to her chambers to get ready, leaving only you in Malleus in the room.

“She’s so lively today,” you comment, looking up at him.

“Indeed,” he replies, coming to rest beside you. “You look beautiful, my love.”

“And you, my king.”

The two of you share a kiss. It’s all so - dizzying. It’s not unexpected to have a child with Malleus - you had one with Riddle, but this is different. This child is older, she knows you, she feels so real.

He pulls away to smile at you. “I have a gift for you.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Need there be one for me to celebrate my wonderful spouse?”

“I suppose not. Thank you, Malleus. No matter how many gifts you give, I will treasure them all.”

He pulls out a box from his pocket, asking you to turn around. You feel him guide a cold band around your neck, clasping it in the back. He then places a small, handheld mirror in your hands, urging you to look.

The necklace he’s given you is beyond stunning. It’s silver, with a dazzling gemstone in the middle. You don’t even want to ponder how much it must’ve cost.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

It’s strange - seeing yourself much older when Malleus looks the same. It unsettles you more than you’d like to admit. It’s one thing to know you’ll age at different rates and another to see it with your own eyes.

This must be something on your mind in the future as well, because of the next thing you decide to ask Malleus.

“Will I see her grow up? For me, it feels like she’s been young forever. I love it and yet…I want to see more of her life than just this.”

He doesn’t ask who you’re referring to. “You will. You’ll see most. I was practicing mature by my eighty-first birthday.”

You sigh. “I may not even get that far. I’m healthy now, but who knows. The curses of being human…”

He tilts your chin to face him. “It is not a curse to me, my love. I chose you, and I would again.”

There’s infinitely more to discuss, but you already feel yourself slipping away.

-

You come to from the vision mid walk. Malleus is unaffected, seemingly still in the middle of one of his explanations behind the rich history of one of gargoyles you’d just passed by.

When he notices your silence and turns to ask if you’re alright, you have no response for him.

It seems almost selfish, for you to choose him. Why- why did there need to be so many things wrong? Why did you have to be human, to pain him and your future children by leaving them behind so early?

The joy and the pain - would it all truly be worth it? Or would it be better for it to have never happened?

Malleus looks at you with concern, wiping the tears suddenly cascading down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, my child of man?”

Everything and nothing, you want to tell him.

viii. all things end, all that we intend; conclusion

Seven beautiful souls, all potential endings. Every future you glimpsed has it’s own charms, and it’s own poisons.

Which future will you choose? One of them? Or perhaps…another?

[darlingbabyboo]

The Fluffy Life of Dating a Delinquent

Tokyo revengers boys and the little things they do (that I want because I'm lonely lol)

Warning: extreme fluff, just Tokrev characters being in love with you

Mikey is the type to buy snacks for you, no matter what. It doesn't matter what time of day it is, he's got some food for you too. He's calling you at 3am in the morning and telling you that he got you some chips, can he come over. He thinks sharing food is the best way to share love and well, he's right ❤

Izana will know everything about you. Your favourite colour, your favourite places to go, what you like to watch. Honey, he got you. You're his assignment and he's passing with an A+. He's the best person when you're sad because he knows exactly what to do. He can cheer you up in five minutes, tops.

Draken is so protective of you 😭. He knows he's well-liked and he's got an entire brothel, might as well take advantage of it. He wants to take care of you, and he knows you need boundaries and space sometimes but he lives a bit of a dangerous life, he needs to make sure you're taken care of. If someone actually got a scratch on your head he's killing them. No questions asked.

Hakkai didn't come from the best family. After the death of his mother, everything kinda fell apart. That's why he wants to start new traditions with you. Getting take out every Friday, matching accessories, whatever it is. He considers you family and he can't wait until you two pass down these traditions to your children.

Baji names cats after things related to you! Your favourite things to eat, do, whatever! Anything that's remotely related to you, that's the new name of the cat! Has given cats pet names that he usually uses for you, sometimes it's a bit confusing, but it's more so endearing.

You can say all you want about Kisaki but no one can say that this man isn't your biggest fan. You're the only one in his eyes but you're also the best. You got no competition but you're also destroying your competition with the twitch of your finger. Ain't it nice, to be someone's one and only 😆

Ran's ideal date is a sleep date. You two watching a movie on the computer, cuddled together under the blankets. He lasts half the movie but it's worth it because he has his hands on your waist and chin on your shoulder. He says he's not a cuddler but his grip on you is like iron, he will not let you move.

Mitsuya will fit you into his schedule no matter what. He's got two younger siblings and a Hakkai to take care of but he always has time for his baby. Yeah, he has three late assignments, five new outfits to make and grocery shopping to take care of, but please tell him about your day. Will take a break from what he's doing for his beautiful baby.

Might not look like it, but Benkei has the best hugs. You guys see him latting Shinichiro's head, now imagine those big strong hands wrapping around you. He's so warm and comforting, his hugs are meant for a higher power. Even if he's strong, he's incredibly careful around you. Big strong men being delicate for you despite their strength 🤤

Rindou makes mixtapes for you. You're always on his mind and when you're on his mind, he just makes a playlist for you. You and him probably share a Spotify account at this point with the amount of playlists dedicated to you. And they all have the same sappy titles 'to the Love of my Life'.

You ever see someone looking at their partner in the picture instead of at the camera. Yeah, that's Shinichiro. He knows that he was lucky to get you, and he's in awe that you still choose to be by his side. Now, the only time he smiling is because he's looking at yours 😁

Cooking together, the best and tastiest love language around. Fits that best boy, Angry has it! Will make your faves, and he HAS to learn food from your culture. He likes going on picnic dates because he can show off his skills to you, and he loves hearing your enjoyment (and you're the real winner with how delicious everything is). You two cook together. Though if you're one of those who are a mess in the kitchen, Angry's just happy to see you enjoy things he made. Pls praise him though, he won't say it but be revels in your praise. Your words are everything to him ❤.

Takemichi is loyal to the end. Don't worry about this boy lacking, he's here for you. He could be in a room of models but the only one he's got his eyes on is you. You're #1 to him 🥰

If you hate someone Chifuyu hates them even more. You say something bad about someone once, he despises them forever and wants to sell their soul to Satan. He will not forgive and he will not forget. He loves you and he will never get other people who don't feel the same.

Wakasa would quit smoking for you. The minute you cough around him, he's throwing his cigar away and replacing them with lollipops. No matter how much he might miss them, your lungs are more important 😙

Those things that you're obsessed with that no one else really cares about? Kakucho will erase those worries, easy. He doesn't mind your ramblings, encourages them. Will keep it all in his mind and remember them so he can participate deeper with things. Your interests are his interests hun!

Kazutora loves spontaneous dates so much. And he makes sure that you two go on them often. Wants to make sure that your relationship never weakens so he loves being around you, and the best way to be around you is doing your favourite things! He will sneak you out if need be so you two can have a picnic in the moonlight.

You need some support, good thing Sanzu offers it unconditionally. Going from things like you needing help on wash day to you needing to cover up a body, your bae's got your back. He might not enjoy doing everything, he's just a tad bratty, but no matter how loud he's complaining throughout, he still gonna do it!

Smiley will defend your honour! He hears some bitch talking about you, he won't let that slide. Blood will be spilled. Someone got something fun to say about your heavenly skin, he gonna kill someone. He's like Draken if Draken was an unhinged gremlin. He will beat someone up and then look at you with a smile on his face like, are you okay precious?

All your dreams of drowning in a strong man's clothes (that's a fantasy we all have, right?) are fulfilled with Mucho. He's so much taller than you (and if not, he's got muscles for days) so whenever you steal some of his clothes, you swim in them. It's a beautiful, comforting, amazing feeling.

Atsushi is the kind to learn how to braid just for you! He knows that going to a barber is expensive so he's got your back. He's doing goddess braids for you, cornrows, whatever you desire. And if you're not a braid person, well good thing he can learn how to!

Shion's pet names are ridiculous! Will call you baby cakes all the time and then start calling you pumpkin the next day. Is he doing this because he's stupid yes but he also likes to see your little smile. All he wants is your goofy little smile 😘

Takeomi is a planner, always, and you're always going to be part of his plans. When he's talking about the future, you're going to be part of it. It's so sweet how casual he is about it, you two will just be laying down in his bed holding hands and he'll be mentioning how good you'd look with a ring on your finger.

Hanma is secretly a romantic. He's an adrenaline junkie in the end though, so he spins things to an insane degree. Sneaking up a ferris wheel and kissing you under the moonlight, telling you to skip school so you guys can watch the sunrise and sunset, skinny dipping at the beach! If it's a bit too much, he gotchu. He's fine with both of you just hanging out on your bed or chilling in the bath. He's not your typical love interest, but he's surprisingly understanding and sweet 😍

Can y'all tell how deprived I am 😭. Also, not proof read because I'm lazy!

[jukednuked]

lyney the type of guy to 'recharge' his magic by kissing you

lyney the type of guy who'd send one of his hat pigeons to deliver you a love letter (it turned into confetti after being read)

lyney the type of guy to let you carry him on your back because he's 'tired' (blud wants to be as close to you as possible)

lyney the type of guy who'd apologize to you by making a bouquet of flowers appear out of nowhere

lyney also the type of guy who'd value what you both have a lot, he'll get real serious if he senses any type of resentment after an argument

lyney the type of guy to teach you a magic trick or two, like how to steal someone's heart maybe?

lyney the type of guy who'd be so good at pick up lines that it's almost frustrating how he can make you feel like jelly in a split second

lyney the type of guy who'd never, ever let you come to his house in hopes of avoiding a certain harbinger (blud doesnt want you to get put in a meat grinder)

lyney the type of guy to massage your shoulders frequently because seeing you all satisfied makes him feel like he can take care of you

lyney the type of guy who'd jokingly bite you one time because you just look too cute (it will become more than one time)

lyney the type of guy who'd beg you to become his assistant in one of his magic tricks involving a box and a saw because lynette refused

lyney the type of guy who'd trace shapes on your hands whenever you feel upset and just want to sit in silence

lyney the type of guy who'd get real sad if he doesn't find you in the audience when he's having a magic show, might fumble over his words and accidentally make a snake appear rather than a cat

lyney the type of guy who'd tell you to throw tomatoes at him like he's a medieval criminal if he ever fails a magic trick

lyney the type of guy who uses the thought of you as a way to cope with his past

lyney the type of guy who'd show off his magic to you whenever you compliment someone else just for you to go wowowoww lyney!!

lyney the type of guy who conveniently always chooses you as guest of the magic show

lyney the type of guy to get you a matching hat just like his one, just a different colour

lyney the type of guy to have a diary<33 every page involves your name at least 1-2 times

lyney the type of guy to slide notes with angry faces drawn on them under your door whenever you forget to give him his goodmorning/afternoon/night/literally-every-part-of-the-day kiss

lyney is that guy

A/N: my sincerest apologies @strawberrylabs if you look closely you can see the blood, sweat and tears i shedded writing this😓🙏 i secretly wanted to switch it to the most gut wrenching angst mid way but im soooo nice

[superat626]

Bit of dancin’. Ondan, Beckett and Errol are @yunisverse ‘s.

[kjhmyg]

blooming

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader trope: sunshine oc x grumpy jk au: florist!oc x tattoo artist!jk wc: 1k

a drabble request from anon for sunshine protector jk. honestly was doubting the capability of writing jk as a grump but anon, i hope i did it justice and i hope you like it! <3

the tiny bells attached to the entrance chimes as you enter the shop, the smell of fresh flowers greeting you so kindly in the morning. the hour leading up to opening is one of your favourite parts of the day. your flowers are your babies; you sing to them, you change their water, place them gently back into their little spaces, assemble new bouquets to put up for sale, then choose which ones go up front on the daily display.

upstairs, you hear the clinking and clanking of your neighbours. the tattoo parlour above starts a little later than your flower shop, usually seeing their first customer around noon. an unlikely combination, one which leaves most of their clients confused as they step inside, till you point out the steps to the right of your shop which leads up to the parlour. 

but you don’t complain. it brings a nice mix to your client pool. besides, your other favourite part of the day is getting to see your favourite tattoo artist. 

“ahem⎼”

you turn on your heel, snapping out of your thoughts. putting on your best service voice, you were ready to greet a customer, only to find the next best thing. “oh,” your face softens, “good morning jungkook.” 

“morning.” he leans against your counter and nods to the spread of flowers laid out on the long table behind you. “are those flowers that interesting? didn’t even hear me come through the doors, did you?”

“sorry,” you smile brightly, and he can’t help but to mirror it. “i was looking through this customer’s request. it’s a little odd.” 

“why?” 

“because see,” you bring the request ticket over from the table and lean over the counter so he can see it, “these flowers don’t go well together at all. and i know, i know, it’s a custom order. but as a florist, i should be able to tell them if i think it’s not a good combination right? i mean the colours are all over the place. look, you can’t have too many bold colours together, it’ll take away the beauty from each flower. plus it'll look so messy. but at the same time it’s their choice and they are paying for it so i don’t know.” 

jungkook looks at you with a blank expression. his arms are crossed on the counter, and his freshly washed hair rests nicely on his shoulders, curved at the ends. 

“what?” you ask him, shrugging like you didn’t just spit out an entire rant contemplating someone’s custom order.

“is it really that deep?” 

you give him an exasperated look. of course he wouldn’t get it.

he raises a brow, then smirks at your silence. you’re never quiet. not for long anyways. for a moment he wonders if he's hurt your feelings. he tends to do that sometimes. “i’m sure you’ll figure it out. besides, bold colours can look good together.” 

“but not always.” you drum your fingers on the counter, pursing your lips in thought. 

jungkook keeps staring. till your eyes flutter back to him, and you lock eyes for far too long and your heart starts racing. he blinks away first. dropping his bag and leaving his helmet on your counter, he walks across your shop and takes a look around before plucking out four flowers. two yellow flowers and two black ones. 

“hey!” you protest, “those are expensive!” 

jungkook ignores your nagging. he places them on the counter top and pairs them up, one yellow daisy with one black hellebore. then he starts intertwining their stems, creating a tiny knot at the bottom for each pair. the yellow and black flowers sit nicely next to the other. “see? they look good together, don’t they?” 

he reaches over and places one of them into the front pocket of your apron. the other, he slides across the counter in front of you. 

“or maybe not,” he shrugs, “you’re the florist here.” 

“execution could be better,” you giggle, admiring the flowers in your palm, “but it’s cute. maybe you should rethink your career. come and work with me instead!” 

jungkook lingers just to watch the way your eyes twinkle as you twirl the flowers between your fingers. all he did was tie two flowers together, yet you act like a kid with a new toy. and when you look up at him again and give him the widest grin, he decides it’s time to go (else he’d spend the entire day down here). 

he starts collecting his belongings, swinging his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his headgear. “oh,” he says, remembering, “this is for you.” 

he’d placed the cup carrier aside earlier while talking to you. jungkook checks the order plastered on the side of the cup before placing it in front of you. 

“wait but,” you start, “i don’t drink cof⎼”

“it’s earl grey.” 

your smile drops momentarily out of surprise. you had mentioned a while ago how you couldn’t stand the taste of coffee. 

“later, flower girl.” jungkook makes a turn for the steps. 

after the first few steps, he pauses when he feels something tugging on his arm. he turns to find you standing there, with the flower he’d made earlier in your hand. getting on your tiptoes, you tuck his hair back and gently place the daisy and hellbore combination behind his ear. 

“aw, you look pretty!” his brows furrow and you know he’s probably going to remove it as soon as he makes it up the steps but you don’t care. you wrap around him briefly before letting go. “thank you.” 

before he can say anything else, the bell chimes and you welcome your first customer of the day. jungkook walks up the steps with a roll of his eyes, listening to how excited you get as you go through your collection of flowers. how you could be so chirpy at this hour, he’ll never understand.

upstairs, he drops his stuff in his corner and brings suga his cup of coffee while sipping on his own. the older friend, sanitising his tools for the day, stops mid-clean. “what the hell is that?”

he refers to the flower behind jungkook’s ear. “oh. nothing.” 

“ah…” suga smiles, accepting his drink. “you and flower girl have been getting along well.” 

“she’s nice to talk to.” jungkook says, not thinking much of it. suga scoffs, knowing his friend too well. 

jungkook walks back to his corner, removing the flowers. his hand hovers over the trash can, flowers in his palm. he looks at it again, then smiles. instead, he places them on his desk, right next to the pressed flower coaster you had given him months back. he chuckles, looking at the contrast of these items to the rest of his workspace. 

sighing, he starts his day, with a flower blooming in his heart.

[luveline]

Hi, love! Hope you’re well <3

Could we perhaps have some more single dad Spencer? I miss him and Amanda so much

tysm lovely❤️❤️ —Spencer misses you when he’s not working, so Amy tries to fix that. fem, 1.8k

Spencer thinks about quitting the BAU, sometimes. It was all he ever knew how to do for a long, long time, and the work is important. He’s not too shy to say they need him. 

When someone else needs you more, you start to wonder if work is all there is. 

“And… kiss!” 

Spencer scrunches his eyes closed as Amy leans across to kiss his cheek. She’s decided that every time they finish a drawing, they should kiss. Spencer’s enjoying it very much. 

“Good job,” he says, “that was your best one yet.” 

“I’m getting good at bugs.” 

To their left, they have opened a huge copy of The Modern Encyclopaedia of Bugs: Insects, Arachnids, and Myriapods. Spencer has purchased many, many books in his life, and this was somehow the fifth most expensive, but it’s worth it, because it’s what Amy likes. She loves laying down on her stomach with a pack of art crayons and drawing the intricate details of each creature. She is, as she said, getting very good at bugs. 

“I meant the kiss,” he says, leaning forward to tuck her hair behind her ears, mousy brown like his, twice as soft. “But the drawings are amazing every time.” 

“If I… if I draw this one for Y/N, do you think she’ll like it?” 

“She loves everything you draw her, baby,” he says softly, stroking another stray hair behind her ears. If she wasn’t so busy colouring the leg of a spider in concentrated strokes, he’d pull her into his lap for a cuddle. 

“I’m not a baby.” 

“You’re my baby,” he says, and she is. Spencer Reid has a kid. Who’d ever think it? 

The older she gets the more right it feels. He’s a dad. He was always meant to be one to Amy. 

“Amy, can I have a cuddle, please?” he asks softly. It’s fine if she says no. 

She throws her nice crayons down immediately. Usually he wouldn’t say anything, but they’re a gift from his mom, so he says, “Be gentle with your things,” as she climbs over her paper pad and the encyclopaedia to land in his lap. 

“So they’ll last longer,” she says.

He wraps his arms around her in a solid hug. “Exactly. The kinder we are to our stuff, the longer it lasts. That’s why–”

“Why you’re nice to your body,” she finishes for him. “Dad, I know.” 

“You know everything.” He closes his eyes and breathes her in. Amy’s hair smells like lavender kids shampoo, her clothes like detergent. They stood in the softener aisle and Spencer, on his knees to match her height, took down bottles for them to smell the caps one at a time until they found the best one, settling on apple blossom and jasmine. “You smell nummy.” 

Amy rubs her face into his chest. “What do I smell like?” 

“Really clean.” 

“So when I’m dirty, I smell yucky.” 

“You don’t ever smell yucky,” he mumbles, relishing the weight of her in his arms. “Oooh,” —he grabs her under the arms and ushers her right into his neck— “my Amy, I’m so happy to be home. I missed you sooo much this week.” 

“But you’re home next week.” 

Spencer has started consulting more and going on cases less. He’s glad to do it, he can afford it, and Amy will never be any younger. He’s never been happier balancing work and family, except… 

He used to see you everyday. It’s fine, he’ll choose Amy every time, but he wishes he didn’t have to, because he’s starting to miss you too. 

“I’m home,” he says. “For the next sixteen days. Maybe longer, if they don’t need me then. Hey, tonight, I was thinking we’d go swimming.” 

Amy makes a strange noise. “Um, well maybe not tonight.” 

“Are you kidding? You love swimming.” 

“I know, but I don’t want to go tonight.” 

“Why not, angel? We can get your pool noodle and the paddle boards.” He lets his nose wrinkle. “Is it your swimsuit? I guess we haven’t got a new one in a long time. We can go shopping first. We can go now, if you want to.” 

“Daddy, I asked Y/N to come over.” 

Spencer laughs. “What?” 

“I texted her.” 

Spencer realises she isn’t joking and holds her away from him. “You what?” 

“You left your phone in the bathroom,” she says defensively, her eyes on his shirt, “and I was washing my hands and it was boring and I thought you maybe missed her.” 

“How could you know that?” Spencer asks. 

“Because you talk about her lots, dad.” She shrugs. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry! No, no, it’s okay, it’s nice of you to think about me. That’s really kind.” Still, his stomach hurts thinking about it. “Did she… text you back?” 

“She said she’s coming over.” 

“She did?” Spencer asks. “Did she say when?” 

“She said five thirty.” 

Spencer checks his watch and feels his heart drop. “Oh my god.” He gets up with Amy in his arms, rushing to the mirror to see them both in their pajama’d disarray. “Oh my god! We need to get dressed. Amy, we need to brush our hair.” 

Spencer panics harder than he needs to, but seeing you in fifteen minutes when he thought he might not for another two weeks is stressful. He decides Amy will have to wear new pyjamas, that he’s going to have to put on jeans, and that both of them could have used a shower to tame the mess of their hair, his curly, hers fine. He sprays hers with detangler generously, brushes gently, and plops her in front of the air conditioning unit plugged into the window to dry. He’s barely raked a hand through his own hair when the door is being knocked. 

He can’t help squinting unhappily at Amy. She’s totally set him up. 

She smiles back, and he feels awful for not smiling too. 

“Amy, can you give me more warning next time?” he asks, crossing their living room to the front door. 

She smiles wider. “Yes!” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

He thinks, Ouch, I’m not very nice, then thinks Why would she do this to me? before settling on, Everything's okay. Amy didn’t really do anything wrong, Spencer isn’t mad at her, and you’re waiting on the other side of the door to see them. 

You smile on the stoop —how lucky is Spencer to have all these pretty girls smiling at him?— and adjust your bag over your shoulder, the cloth tote bag hooked on your elbow slipping and sliding with a rustle. 

“Hello!” you say. “Where’s the little lady?” 

“Hello!” Amy calls. “I’m by the air conditioner trying to get dry!” 

Spencer lets you in. You nod your head gratefully and put your bags on the sideboard, dumping your keys in the bowl beside his, and offering your now empty arms for a hug. “Hello,” you say, “you smell good.” 

Spencer panics. “You smell good.” Your arrival has brought the smell of Chinese food, and your jacket smells like perfume. 

“Dad says I smell good too.” 

You part from Spencer gently to bend down, meeting Amy at her height, arms out to offer a hug. “I bet you do. Hi, lovely girl, I haven’t seen you in too long.” 

You lean into her with care. Spencer suspects you think she’s much more breakable than she is, but you’re sweet about it regardless, giving her back a good rub and humming happily when she hugs you back. She’s way less careful. 

“Don’t strangle her, Amy.”

You pretend to choke. Amy laughs like a fiend. 

“I missed you,” Amy says. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I missed you too.” Spencer knows how good that must feel. “Can I get a good look at you?” 

Amy springs away to pose. Her damp hair kisses her shoulders, her pants hide her dirtied socks. Spencer forgets that he wants to impress you and instead sees how cute she is, laughing to himself as she does a swift spin and slips into the side of the couch. 

“Spence, she looks so much like you,” you say, grinning. “Don’t you think so?” You catch Amy’s eye. “You’re gorgeous! Can I see another one of those spins?” 

Amy spins. You nudge Spencer in the hip. “I brought dinner like you asked.” 

Spencer covers his face. “Was I polite?” he asks cautiously. 

“You said can I please have my favourite Chinese food and can I please have a soda,” you say, laughing, so at least it’s clear who was really texting you, “so yes, you were very polite.” 

“I don’t know what got into me.” 

“Guess you really, really, really missed me or something.” 

He loves Amy, and he wishes the wood floors beneath you would eat him whole; while it may be obvious that Amy’s posed as her father on the phone, it’s also clear that you, as a profiler, seem to have made assumptions as to why Amy would text you in the first place. 

“It’s okay,” you say, watching Amy as she races to her sketching papers and the encyclopaedia, “I really, really, really missed you too. Even though it’s only been two days. Did you get taller?” 

“No.” He gets the distinct sense that he’s getting flirted with, but he also doesn’t understand the compliment. “Same height, why?” 

“Feel like this is taking much more effort than usual,” you say, your hand on his shoulder as you lift your chin to kiss his cheek. 

Spencer follows you on instinct, not to kiss you or anything, but your elbow in his hand, almost begging for another. 

“Oh, no,” Amy says. 

Spencer feels your elbow but remembers himself, and raises his head. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, scouring her for injuries where she stands in front of you both, her drawing in hand. 

“Now you gave Y/N cooties.” 

Spencer blushes worse. “Oh, I didn’t kiss her! And I don’t have cooties, do I? I give you kisses all the time!” 

“You’re my dad,” she says. “But you’re a boy.” 

You pat him on his warm cheek. “He’s a boy, sure, but he’s not gonna give me cooties, don’t worry. I’m not here to see daddy, anyways,” you say, though your hand on his shoulder rubbing softly hints otherwise, “I’m here to see you. Let’s have our spring rolls before they get soggy, yes? Yum!” 

Spencer wants you to stay for much more than dinner, but dinner’s a good start. He swoops Amy up to carry her to the kitchen table —she’s such a babe, she deserves princess treatment only.  

“Kiss?” Amy asks. 

“Thought I had cooties?” he asks.

“Daaaad. I was joking.” And she wasn’t joking, but Amy gets her kiss.

[cherrieflavouredheadcanons]

hi luv! i hope you're doing great. Saw your recent post and i do have a hc request (since im having a haikyuu brainrot rn 👀), what would you think of making papa!haikyuu hcs 😩. How would these volley boys make as a father! (especially kenma, tsukki and noya) and you can add your favs too 💕sjsjjsjs hope you have a great day ahead!

I'm doing okay, I hope you are doing good and that you have a nice day! I hope you enjoy this post and it is to your liking

Them as fathers

Characters: Kenma, Noya, Tsukki Gender neutral reader, it is not mentioned whether the children are adopted or biological, Kenma’s is longer than the others because i had way too many ideas for him

Kenma Kozume

First things first: I don’t think Kenma would have more than one kid, if you really wanted to have more he would relent but he is perfectly happy with just one, he thinks 3 people is the perfect number for your little family.

You may think he wouldn’t be that involved in his kids life, but that is a big misconception,

No matter how much work he has to do he makes sure to spend time with you and your kid.

Kenma would never show his child on the internet in any way, he wants to keep his private life private and keep his child safe, he knows how cruel the internet can be, no way in hell will he put his young child into that kind of situation.

Once your child learned to crawl he brought the three starters of Pokémon black and white (gen 5 best games I don’t take criticism) to see which one your child would choose.

Based on what they chose he will be sulky or proud. (I nearly made this into Oshawott propaganda but I didn’t you’re welcome). But at the end of the day he knows that they just choose one based on colours and shapes, he would teach them once they are older how to perfectly choose a starter.

Best believe that as soon as your kid is old enough to understand things he will show them all kinds of (age appropriate) video games.

You enter his gaming room with some snacks for him and you can just see him play Slime Rancher as your kid sits in his lap, eyes glued to what their father is doing.

He already has started a Stardew Valley coop farm for you three to play together one day, he is just waiting for the day your child is old enough.

Now enough video game talk, (though I have so many more ideas about this lol) your child loves it when Kenma reads to them before they sleep, his voice is very soothing to them.

Once they are asleep Kenma stays at their side a bit longer, watching them sleep a serene smile on his face.

Kenma can’t say no to your kid, he will buy them anything they want. You sometimes wonder how he can be so responsible with his money in any other situation, but your child just needs to point at something and he will buy it for them unless you intervene.

Lastly, be prepared for Kenma and your kid to team up against you. Board games? Yeah they are a team even if the game isn’t a game for teaming up. (Monopoly is a nightmare with them, Oh you need a red? Too bad your kid and Kenma are trading it between one another instead of giving it to you) But you can’t really seem to mind when you see the way Kenma and your kid smile. (Unless you are like me and are fiercely competitive in games then you may want to strike Kenma down)

Yu Nishinoya

Noya would take longer to have children with you, at least until he is done travelling, he does want kids but is aware that travelling the world with them wouldn’t be ideal, he wants them to have a stable home.

Once you two do have kids, he wants at least 2 or 3. Noya wants a big family.

I feel like he is the type of Dad that throws his kids in the air and then catches them (he won’t do it high) and it always gives you a heart attack.

Instead of reading them good night stories he always tells them (embellished) stories from when he travelled the world, for example he once exclaimed to one of your kids how a mermaid vied for your attention but he fought them heroically off.

This does bite him in the ass years down the line once your kids are teens, they will bring these stories up whenever they can to tease him.

Asahi is basically an uncle to your kids, he often visits you and brings the kids many gifts. He loves to spoil them.

And yes Asahi designs the clothes for your kids as well, it often leads to many people asking you and Noya where you got the clothes for them from since they are such a high quality.

Yes, he will teach your kids “Rolling thunder”. No you can’t stop him. Even if your kids don’t play Volleyball they will still know the move.

This leads to your kids looking for his old jersey’s from highschool, putting them on and pretending to  be their dad. No he is not crying, he just got dust in his eye.

Vacations and holidays are important to Noya, while he can’t travel the world with your kids, he will take them on memorable vacations across the country when they are old enough to remember them.

He wants them to have a happy and fulfilled childhood with as many experiences as they can have.

Kei Tsukishima

When you first brought up having children with him he asked “Are you sure you can take care of a child? Don’t you wanna practise with a pet rock first?” You lightly punched him in the chest for that and he had his signature smirk on his face.

He is honestly neutral on the aspect of having kids, he is not against it but also it was never his dream of having them, so he is fine with whatever you want.

Just like Kenma he would probably only have one kid, with his Job as a Volleyballplayer and everything he isn’t home that often, so if you had more than one kid he would feel guilty leaving you home alone with them.

Tsukki is probably the first one from Karasuno to have a kid, so he is smug about the fact that he is ‘better’ than the others in that regard.

The first team reunion after you two had your child will have him holding his child proudly, while he tells all the others how slow they are for not having kids yet, which has everyone rolling their eyes. He is very proud of his kid so that he will hold it up Lion King style so everyone can admire it.

Unluckily though he miscalculated the height of the ceiling and bonked your kids head on it, which left everyone in the room in a stunned silence (True story from my infant days, my dad did this exact thing with me)

You had made him change every diaper for 2 weeks for the heart attack he gave you with that, even if your kid was fine and wasn’t hurt.

Tsukki and you switch every night who is going to read your kid, while you pick different topics every time, he only ever chooses dinosaur stories to read to your kid.

Speaking of dinosaurs, Tsukki once claimed he had to educate your kid on certain things while you went out grocery shopping, when you came back you saw that the thing he was educating your child on was “The land before time” which made you smile.

Now no matter if the child is biologically yours or adopted, it somehow interhits his sass, which means you will be surrounded by two sassy little pieces of shit (affectionate).

Though you get both of them to calm down their sass by offering them some strawberry cake if they stop, it surprisingly works better on Tsukki then on your kid, who would have thought?

[utterlyotterlyx]

Moth To A Flame

Summary - Azriel has a new friend in the form of a diary to talk to, and you are completely enchanted to find out exactly what they talk about.

Warnings - F L U F F F F F F F F F F, pining, wholesome all round

Word Count - 4.1k

Based on this ask

Winter Solstice was a magical time of year, one that had become even more meaningful with the additions of your ever-expanding family.

Before Feyre, it had just been you decorating the house and instructing Cassian to help you, scolding him when he would inevitably pop open a bottle of wine and find a nice couch to perch on whilst he barked unhelpful comments in your direction. The only good thing about Cassian's laziness was that Azriel would always show up to help you, whether that be resting his hands on your hips to keep you steady as you strung up the garlands, or getting on a ladder himself to reach the higher points that were beyond your reach, he was always there to assist.

Since Feyre, you were gifted with a band of women who wanted to help, Feyre reached the highest corners of the room, Elain made fresh garland rings from whatever she could find in the gardens of Velaris, and Nesta was meticulous in the placement of all of the decorations. Wine flowed and music played, and your heart had never felt so full and content.

That solstice had marked Nyx's fourth year within your special little family, and each year, the gifts had become more extravagant for the little one.

You had opted to stay in that morning and skip the annual snowball fight, choosing to watch it from the window with Elain as you both spent the morning preparing the meal you were going to feed to three huge Illyrian bats a few hours from then. Lucien had also opted to stay behind, his reason being to make sure that your wine glasses stayed full which earnt him a teasing glare from Azriel before his eyes flickered to you in silent conversation.

Snow floated down softly from the skies and you watched with a quiet giggle as you noticed Nyx reaching his little limbs upward to the sky in Feyre's arms, grasping at the flakes that were just in reach for him to capture. Then your watchful eye moved to Azriel, the male you were so irrevocably in love with who had no idea of your affections.

It was odd, for Azriel, a male who dreamed of a mate so badly, of real true love, to not see what had always been right in front of him. Though you had to give it to him, you weren't exactly forthcoming with your feelings in fear of being rejected.

Presents had been neatly arranged in piles, thanks to Lucien, and you had made sure to make everyone aware that each person had a certain coloured wrapping paper, you had told them it would make life easier since the family was too big now to spend time reading labels. Rhys had rolled his eyes at you, but pecked your cheek with a smirk at your usual perfectionist antics before agreeing and stalking off to make sure it was imperative to your plans that they do as told.

Life hadn't always been so perfect.

You had come from nothing, no family or title were bestowed to you, and you had unfortunately found yourself being sold to the Illyrian camps to entertain the males there before Rhys and his brothers had found you and taken you in. There was something about you that captivated them, and the more time they spent with you, getting to know you, the more they fell in love with everything that you were. Kind. Selfless. Loyal. Fierce. Their family wouldn't feel nearly as complete without you in it.

Azriel had smirked when they had re-entered the house, basking in the glow of another victory whilst you barked the exact place where they all needed to sit in front of their towering piles of presents. You had gone overboard again, you always did every year, showering them all in gifts which you never expected to be returned. That was the gift of you, all you wanted was for everyone else to be happy.

The house smelt divine. Baked chestnuts and cranberries, pine and candied oranges, and whatever honey you had put on the meat. All of their mouths were salivating at the thought of sitting down at that table and turning into feral beasts at the platter you had spent weeks planning and preparing.

A seamlessly planned gap had been created, a perfect moment for you all to sit down together and open your gifts before you bolted back into the kitchen and ordered Rhys to keep your wine topped up. It was the least he could do after all.

Your pile was nestled between Azriel and Mor's separate towers, the space on the deep seated sofa between them left free for you also. Azriel's eyes roamed your figure as you dipped into the kitchen and returned with a fresh glass of red wine, your bare feet padded along the floor and the short silver chrome dress that you had chosen to wear swayed with each step, grazing against your naked thighs.

Azriel thought that you were absolute perfection, to pure for their world, too pure for him to foolishly believe that he stood a chance with you.

Your scent drifted past him as you shimmied through the gap between his knees and the table, molten caramel apples and basil, a smell he could scent from any place he stood, no matter how far or near he was from you.

All of the piles were as you had ordered, in specific coloured papers, and the beaming smile on your face made all of the hassle of running about town worth it.

Everyone began opening their gifts in turn. Mor had flung her arms around you when she had opened a glittering red floor length dress that you had custom made for her. Feyre was beyond happy at the paintbrushes that you had inscribed her name into, Nesta was thrilled with her books, and Elain's bright eyes sifted through the cookbooks and ornate garden tools you had imported from Dawn. Another jewel for the firedrake and she was content, Cassian was audibly grateful for the armour you had gotten him which held a bit for flare than his current leathers, with golden sockets for his siphons which melted into the taut black leather of the skin.

Azriel shouldn't have been surprised when you went as far as to import delicacies from the Spring Court for Lucien, an assortment of baked goods and herbs that almost brought a tear to his eye. You knew how much Lucien missed being able to have a home, and you knew that Spring was the closest thing to a home he had ever had bar Elain.

Rhys howled in laughter when he unwrapped his matte black lint roller with a violet handle, promising to use it often before opening his real gift, a piece of art you had commissioned of himself, Feyre and Nyx at Starfall a year prior, covered in stardust and smiling brightly. Thoughtful as always.

Then you turned to Azriel, noticing he had opened most of his gifts apart from the ones that were clearly from you by the state of the perfectly wrapped edges and cobalt blue ribbons. He felt your eyes on him, pools of adoration he always found himself searching for, and he met your gaze as you handed him a small square box that rested in his palm.

Unwrapping it, navy velvet welcomed his eye and he looked at you with a small frown, listening to your silent urge to open it to find a thin onyx leather bracelet with a hot white glass pendent at its centre. The light swirled and danced like it was alive, growing more active as he inspected it. "What is it?"

Smiling, you took the bracelet from the box and secured it around his wrist, your touch alone sending electricity coursing through his veins, "I've been experimenting with my power," you told him softly as the room continued unphased in its own conversation like neither of you existed, "It's a piece of my soul," your fingers rested on his wrist and he felt his heart thump in his chest, "It's just so you know that you know I'm with you to light the way whenever you need it."

Azriel exhaled with disbelief, feeling unworthy of such a gift. A piece of your soul. So that you would always be with him.

"Y/N," he breathed, "This is- Thank you," he would give anything to be able to lean forward and capture your lips in his, but instead he restrained himself and reached for your own gift from him in your pile, wrapped in shiny silver paper with intricate embellishments of flower petals.

You hadn't opened a single gift yet, too entranced in everyone else to take a moment for yourself, but you obliged the man you adored so much and ripped open the paper that encased a long box.

Opening it, your eyes widened as you took in the blade in your fingers, an exact match to Truthteller but with a hilt of diamonds and beautifully forged embellishments, "I realised that you didn't have your own, I hope you never have to use it but just thought you'd like one," your stunned silence made him fidget with his fingers and he watched you carefully pick the blade up and turn it in your hands, "Do you like it?"

"I love it," it was beautifully lethal, just like you, "Thank you, Az. Really."

The afternoon continued and you couldn't stop glancing to the open lidded box on the table as you sat nestled under Azriel's wing, sipping from your wine as he opened his last gift, from Nesta, who was busy placing the new hairpins you had gotten her into her staple coronet. Azriel tore open the paper and tilted his head, looking up at the eldest Archeron sister who raised a brow and smirked, "It's a diary, Az. People use them to write down their thoughts and feelings, some people draw in them," you snorted at the condescension in her tone to which Azriel nudged your knee playfully before thanking her and thus wrapping up the present exchange.

It had shaped up to be the most perfect solstice any of you had ever seen.

In the weeks that followed solstice, the snow melted away to give new life to the earth below, and the sun peeked out from the mountains to cascade Velaris in its heavenly glow.

During those weeks, you noticed a subtle change to Azriel, how he would fly away at dusk with his diary secured to his side, to only return an hour or so later seeming lighter and more determined. The subtle changes and the increases of his affection only made you more intrigued to find out exactly what he was writing in that book.

He had caught you far too many times tiptoeing into his bedroom, curtly telling you with a smirk that the diary was nowhere to be seen before pecking your forehead and sending you on your way.

Azriel had been much more attentive since solstice, he rarely took off the bracelet that you gave him, and you liked to think that the glow of your soul coaxed him into sleep, a thing you knew he struggled with often. Even Rhys had told you that Azriel had left his door open one night, only slightly ajar, but enough to Rhys to see him reaching to the ceiling and looking longingly at the pendent which contained your essence atop his pulse.

It was frustrating for your family to see it, to see your mutual pining but watch the other be clueless to it. Azriel had brought you flowers, brought back trinkets from his travels, he would brush up behind you and allow his shadows to feather across your lower back, he'd even cooked for you, something no one had ever seen before. Then there was you, giving a literal piece of your soul to the male, and even that wasn't enough for Azriel to see how in love with him you were.

"I'm calling it," Cassian panted as he rested on the stone pillar of the training ring beside Nesta, watching Azriel jog to catch up with your retreating form and his shadows drawling over your shoulder, "They're mates. They have to be."

"You're too late to that bet," Nesta quipped, wrapping her mate's hands up tighter in the leather straps, "We've all put money in, we bet on how long it would take for them to realise and for the bond to snap."

"And you didn't tell me?!"

Nesta scowled playfully, "You'd cheat," she prodded his armoured chest with her finger, "It has to be natural. They deserve that much."

Weeks ticked by and the group were getting restless, even Nesta, who was stubborn to let the pining play out, was getting annoyed.

Nesta knew exactly what Azriel wrote about in his diary each day, he wrote of you, she had caught a glimpse of a passage when he had stupidly left his diary in the library one night and he had sworn her to secrecy since then, but also sought her out to speak about you, about what he should do.

And Nesta no longer saw a problem in nudging him in the right direction.

"Is she still sniffing around your diary?" Nesta had asked, they were splayed across the seating area in the River House whilst you and Mor had disappeared to Rita's for the evening.

Your essence glowed on his wrist, he heard the whispers of your voice emit from it and sighed with a faint smile on his lips, "Everyday," he told her, looking upward at the ceiling and wondering what you were doing in that moment, "She's too good for me, Nes."

Humming in disagreement, Nesta sat up and craned her neck to look at her friend who was clearly thinking of the woman dancing the night away in the centre of Velaris, "Azriel," she deadpanned, "Y/N gave you a piece of her soul so that she would always be with you. Show her what you wrote. I assure you it can only go in the way you want it to."

Hint? No. Spelling it out for the dumb Illyrian? Yes.

Realisation hit him and he bolted upright, he gathered his diary in his fingers and raced upstairs, stumbling past a confused Cassian who stared after his brother before turning to his mate, mouth full of one of the cupcakes you and Elain had baked that morning with wide eyes and a accusatory tone muffling his words, "You cheated!" Crumbs flew from his mouth and Nesta flipped him off.

"You know the money is ours right?"

Cassian flopped down beside her with a grin, "I knew there was a reason why I loved you."

Painful throbs growled at the balls of your feet as you walked up the path to the house with your heels stabbing at your thigh. Intoxication hadn't found you but you still had an amazing time dancing the hours away with Mor and Feyre, giggling and talking about men until you were all talked and danced out.

Golden firelight greeted you, and your dreary eyes scanned the room to find Azriel sat before the fire but turned toward the door where you stood in a floor length black dress, with two long slits that kissed your mid thigh and a plunging neckline held up by two thin ropes.

Azriel's hair was tousled, his hazel eyes were warm pools that beckoned you to dive in, his skin was golden and glowing in the light, and he sat there with a look of wonderment that you had never seen before.

"Az? Are you alright?" You closed the door behind you and made you way over to him, noticing his neck crane to keep his focus on your face as you approached him.

Azriel had pulled the table toward him and a familiar black leather bound book lay open on the table in front of him, "Come here," his voice was low but soft, pleading but not commanding, he patted the space beside him and you sank down into it, "I wanted to show you something. I know I've been hiding this from you, but I want you to see it now."

The book was soon in your hands, and closed, the thing you had been after for so long, "Are you sure?" The idea of his diary in your hands felt wrong, like a delicious invasion of privacy.

"More sure than I've ever been," he nodded downward, giving you the permission you needed to open it.

The pages were filled with words and charcoal sketched, and you took a moment to flick through the filling book before you focused on certain pages.

Bright eyes, unbound hair, and a toothy smile greeted you over a two page spread, your eyes followed the curves of black, and you gasped when you noticed what, or who, you were looking at. It was you. Azriel had drawn you on the pages of the diary Nesta had gifted him. In the time he had disappeared at dusk to be alone with his thoughts, he had chosen to let them wander to you.

You looked to him and noted how he had shuffled closer to you, the warmth of wing draping over your smaller form and his shadows dancing across your shoulders.

"I think in a way this diary is for you," he urged you to carry on, watching carefully as you flipped through to the beginning and scanning the words he had littered on the pages.

To anyone else, they were just a bunch of randomly littered words across the page, a waterfall of sayings and phrases that had come from your lips. Words and phrases that you said often enough for Azriel to take the time to write them down.

On the next page was two lists, one of the things you loved and another of the things you hated with small scribbled beside certain ones depicting when exactly Azriel had noticed.

Flicking through, it dawned on you that the entire diary was full of you, your jokes and mannerisms, the things that made you laugh, passages of your favourite poetry, drawings of you.

"Az, I-"

"Keep going."

So you did, you kept flipping the pages, allowing your fingers to graze against his written word as you read through his thoughts until you reached one page in particular.

Y/N,

I may never have the courage to tell you how I feel, and maybe writing it down will give me the courage to let you finally see what I have been hiding.

I tried to remember the day when everything in my life began to make sense. I went so long feeling lost and alone, of feeling destined to a life of solitude, and then you happened. You brought a joy to my life, to all of our lives, that we didn't know we were missing. I don't think you realise just how amazing you are.

I am in love with you, Y/N.

When you're around I know everything is going to be alright, and when I'm away, all I think about is you. I look at that damn bracelet all of the time, hoping that it was just some thoughtful gift, but a sign of something more. You are fluent in me, you speak my language in ways that even I cannot, and I can't walk this earth without you by my side. I refuse.

I may not tell you everyday that you mean the world to me but you do. The day you entered my life, even when you were petrified, you changed my life into something so beautiful and meaningful, you make me feel seen. I may not be the first man in your life but I intend to be the last, I intend to be the only one who can make you feel loved to your core.

There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. I will love you in your weakest moments and brightest of days, I will love you when you don't love yourself, I will love you even when you don't want me to, I will love you until the earth swallows me and even then I will follow you to the next life. There is nothing on this earth that can take me from you, not even death can force us apart.

Between universes, oceans and moons, I am so lucky that I got to step onto the same land and dream under the same stars as you; and I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of any reality, I would find you and I would choose you.

I love you, Y/N. I'll write it and say it as many times as you need me to, whether that be verbal or not, in whatever way you need me to say it, I will.

You have me, until the last star in the galaxy perishes, you have me.

You didn't realise that you were crying until you saw your tears splatter onto the page. In an instant, Azriel was cupping your face in the hands that only you found comfort in, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks as he felt your longing and love flow through him.

Felt your longing and love flow through him.

Azriel tensed, his eyes went wild and wide as he searched your soul for a sign for anything to confirm what he had just felt pang in his chest. The pressure was building and his actions confused you, he was panting, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm.

You reached for him, resting your fingers over his heart and feeling the world flip on its axis at the singular contact, energy exploded around your forms, white oceanic waves rippling with intertwining shadow, shrouded in a golden shimmer.

The sight was beautiful, so beautiful that it stole your attention and you watched as your essences danced with one another, and his shadows rallied to join in the celebration. Azriel's breath was warm against your cheek and you tore your gaze away from the display above your heads to meet his tearful eyes.

"We're mates," his voice was soft, so gentle, and he ran his fingers down the side of your face, sighing with a smile when you nodded.

"Nesta is going to be thrilled that she won the bet."

Azriel threw his head back and laughed, tears of pure happiness spilling from the corners of his eyes as he fell back to your level, "Bet?"

"They all betted on how long it would take us to realise that we love each other. They thought I didn't know."

"Beautiful smart creature," Azriel purred to you and you felt a blush creep to your cheeks, a blush that was soothed by his shadows curling over it, he slowly closed the gap between you, his lips hovering just before your own. "How rude of us to keep them waiting."

Azriel noticed your line of sight flicker between his eyes and downward at his lips, "Extremely," you breathed and Azriel wasted no time in pulling your face toward him and connecting your lips in something that could only be described as universe shifting, like the entire galaxy was holding a collective breath and watching you fall into one another.

There was a hunger behind it as his tongue danced with your own, you felt those golden threads snap into place, you heard the string connecting your souls hum in appreciation and yearning for what was no doubt going to occur behind closed doors.

Just as Azriel was about to scoop you into his arms and take you somewhere more private, a shuffle of feet and a groan sounded by the stairs.

Pulling apart, you saw Cassian stood there with giddy eyes, "GUYS! NESTA WON!"

The house and its inhabitants collectively snarled, "FUCK!" Rhys cursed from somewhere upstairs followed by Nesta's victorious chuckle whilst Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at you both, you buried your head into Azriel's chest to contain your red cheeks.

Azriel shrouded you with his wings, forcing you to look up at him, "Let's get out of here? I'd like a night alone with my mate."

"Say it again."

"Mate," he kissed you, "My perfect, incredible mate," he mumbled onto your lips with a smirk, cradling you to his chest and growling at Cassian for whatever crude remark he had made before soaring into the sky with you pressed to his chest with plans to make you his over and over again.

Authors Note

Got a little carried away but this has given me life x

I'm drafting the next parts to some of my series tonight for tomorrow, what do we want prioritised? New Pages? A Fate Inked In Starlight? Can't Keep My Hands To Myself? When I Kissed The Teacher?

Let me know x

[grrnlotus]

𑄻𑄾 𝓉𝘩𝘪𝓃𝑔𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝓈𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵/𝘮𝘢𝘯𝒾𝒻𝘦𝘴𝘵 ᵎᵎ˖ ࣪. 

hair edition.

౨ৎ ᶻ 𐰁 ⟢ ݂

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#01. you a mirror where you can choose what hair style, colour and length you want for the day.

#02. if you sing the healing incantation from Rapunzel your hair glows and grows/ heals.

#03. people always wanna play with your hair, and they always hit that nice spot when they do (hehe 🤭).

#04. you never need to wash your hair, its always clean and is never greasy or has any dandruff.

#05. your hair is healthy.

#06. you never get damage from heat, products, styles, etc.

#07. you never have a bad hair day.

#08. your hair never gets messed up from wind and you don't have frizz or flyaways. school air is scared of YOU.

#09. all hair colours, styles and lengths suit you. (you never look like an egg when you have a slick back style LMFAOO).

#10. your hair feels like a newborn puppy's fur; soft and silky to the touch.

#11. your hair is shiny, reflecting the sun yet not looking greasy at all.

#12. you have your desired hair texture and type, each strand falls in such a perfect way that exactly resembles what you desire.

#13. your hair is so thick that it fills the whole of your scalp, the follicles naturally lifting to ensure that it never looks flat (and you dont have bald spots💀).

#14. your hairline has a good shape.

#15. each and every time you wake up, your hair is never tangled or messy.

#16. your hair is extremely easy to work with, like your brush is somehow blessed with the ability to sift through without a bother.

#17. you never get your hair stuck or lay on your hair.

#18. you never get hair in your lipgloss, food or mouth.

#19. your hair strands dont fall out.

#20. when the wind blows, your hair flows in a pretty way.

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[thefantasyden]

Stray Kids as Daddy Doms

I seperate their non-sexual and sexual dominance so this is a bit long but I love it. I hope you guys enjoy ♡.

Chris:

Non-sexually: The epitome of soft daddy. Chris never wants to say no to you, and his favourite thing on earth is babying you when you get needy because he thinks you're so damn cute. Chris loves having his baby around when he's stressed or overworked because you're always so obedient and eager to please him, and it makes him feel like the luckiest man on earth. He's so grateful for the way you make him feel important and needed, and the second he's in that Daddy zone, you can't get him away from you. He's the clingiest Daddy, and he wants to stay wrapped around you. He's rarely ever strict because the second you start acting out, he's babying you back to being his obedient angel.

"C'mere baby. Come give Daddy some attention, ok?"

Nickname he calls you: Little One

Sexually: PLEASURE DADDY. Oh, my dearly beloved Chris. He is the poster child for giving, and he won't be satisfied until he has you completely falling apart before his eyes. He's stern in the most wonderful way, telling you to keep your eyes open, never letting you cover your face. Daddy Chris is the type to make you tell him what you want, and he doesn't care how long it takes for you to stop whining and stuttering long enough to get it out. Once you DO ask him for what you want? Oh, LORD. He can't decide if he wants to make you cum over and over or if he wants to edge you until you're begging. Whichever one he chooses, he'll have you crying in pleasure before he even has a chance to fuck you properly.

"Look at my little baby. Feels good, huh? Poor thing. You can't even talk."

Minho:

Non-sexually: Stern but fair! Minho has rules, and he expects you to follow them, spoiling you to your hearts content when you behave well for him. Minho loves his obedient baby, and he's so attentive to you. The only time he's not gentle is when you're acting up, and he knows you need your attitude spanked out of you! Minho only punishes enough for you to get the cathartic feeling of release that you need, then he's got you sat on his lap and he's holding your cheeks and telling you that you did good and he knows its hard sometimes. Min is a very loving Daddy, and he's always there to love on you when you're feeling overwhelmed.

"I know baby. Sometimes you just need me to force it out of you, yeah?"

Nickname he calls you: Honey

Sexually: Daddy Minho loves any form of impact, and he'll use it as a tool to overwhelm you with pleasure. If you ask him nicely, he'll lay you in his lap and indulge you in a lil wax play, relishing the way the pretty bright colours look against your skin. His favourite thing is to slide two of his fingers along your pussy to see how wet you are for him. He praises you for it, of course. He likes to degrade you just a little, but it's not harsh, more like calling you his gorgeous little slut. He uses it as a tool to make you squirm until your eyes are watery and you're asking him to make you feel good in the way that only he can.

"Aw, Honey. You're so wet for me. You're just my needy little slut, aren't you?"

Changbin:

Non-sexually: THE MOST SPOILING DADDY. Changbin can never say no to his Bunny when they want something from him, and it doesn't matter what it is, he'll do anything to make sure you have it. Minho likes to make jokes about you topping from the bottom, but Binnie just laughs because he knows it's the furthest thing from the truth. You have a fiery little attitude in public, and he loves that about his baby, but in private? You're his sweet little angel. He loves it when his baby gets clingy and wants to stay cuddled up in his arms, and GOD does he loves when you nuzzle into his chest (JUT DAEEEEE). He made a joke one time about giving you uppies, and now he uses it unironically when he wants you to koala cling to him (despite your complaints about the cringe of it.)

"Awww my grumpy baby. You want Daddy to get you a treat?"

Nickname he calls you: Bunny (you knew this)

Sexually: Strong Daddy Binnie loves manhandling you. He knows it makes you feel small and vulnerable and you love it so fucking much. He specifically loves the gasps you let out when he holds your hips down when you're fidgeting, trying to get him to do more. The only time he ever says no to you is in bed when you're trying to be demanding. Binnie always reacts with a little growl and tells you to behave because he knows what you need better than you do, and he's gonna give it to you. You just have to be patient. He's the type of Daddy who makes you apologise for being snappy when he's balls deep inside of you (and then during aftercare he'll tell you that he loves that you're his grumpy little bunny and he doesn't want you to change.)

"No, Bunny. You know Daddy always gives you what you need so you can stay still and take what I'm giving you."

Hyunjin:

Non-sexually: Hyunjin somehow walks the line of being a stern Daddy and a spoiling Daddy. Hyunjin loves doing whatever you want him to, but only if you ask nice and beg a little first. He's definitely the kind of Daddy to scold you for using his name if you've put him in Daddy mode because you know it's his main rule. Hyunjin doesn't hesitate with punishments, but he doesn't opt for anything that you might enjoy. His punishment of choice is things like making you kneel in one spot until you apologise or having you write an essay about why what you did was wrong. He always treats you afterwards, telling you how good you are for him and how much he loves you for taking your punishment well. Hyunjin is a take no shit, show all the love kind of Daddy.

"You did very well, Angel. Thank you for apologising. My good baby."

Nickname he calls you: Angel

Sexually: Daddy Hyunjin loves to let out his cuteness aggression in bed almost as much as he loves making you pose all pretty for him. Hyunjin is definitely one that would like sub positions and he'll put you in his favourite so that he can run his hands all over your naked body, toying with you in any way that satisfies him before he's letting himself get carried away, fucking you almost aggressively with a firm grip on anything that manages to come under the attack of his exploring hands as he tells you how fucking CUTE you are and how it makes him want to destroy you.

"God, I can't help myself when you look this sweet. Wanna mark you up, Angel."

Jisung:

Non-sexually: Sung doesn't go Daddy mode often, but when he does, it's CLINGY Daddy. He has to be with you at all times, ideally within arms reach. Daddy Jisung would notice any change in your behaviour, and he is on top of your needs. He's the 'drink your water' type of daddy who finds himself arguing with you often because you told him that coffee has water. He says coffee isn't water, and you say he's being a hypocrite. Sungie would apologise to you and then tell you to be good because you're just a baby and you need more care. He'd find something about babying you to be very soothing, and he doesn't know why, but he craves it sometimes. Sometimes, he just feels a different kind of stress that only having you curled up beside him as he feeds you snacks and hears your happy giggles can cure.

"Let me take care of you Baby. Please? I need my lil treasure."

Nickname he calls you: Treasure

Sexually: SOFT SOFT SOFT. Daddy Sung fucks you like you're something fragile that needs to be protected. It's all whispered praise and gentle, wet kisses. He likes to go slow and deep and he smiles when you whine at him because he loves how needy you are but he needs to take things slow so that he can be close to you for as long as possible. He's one for cuddle-fucking, I'm sure. He loves to wrap his arms under your shoulders and bury his face in your neck to leave gentle kisses along your skin. Jisung doesn't speed up until he sees your eyes watering after over an hour of his delightful torment, and when you ask him so politely to please do more because you need to cum, he'll do whatever it takes to have you cumming on his cock.

"My poor baby. 'S too much, isn't it? Okay baby, shhh. Daddy's gonna take care of you."

Felix:

Non-sexually: sweetest boy Felix is an emotional Daddy. He loves being cuddled up to his baby and keeping you in his lap. Felix is an activities kind of Daddy so he plans his days around being able to bake with you or take you out on adventures when he can watch the way your eyes light up and bask in all the silly things you say when you start rambling from excitement. Sweet man doesn't like it when you have an attitude, and he'll force you to talk it out with him until neither of you feels bad anymore. Daddy Lixxie is so sweet to you, and he dedicates all his attention to being able to make you happy. He's the kind who makes it almost impossible to be grumpy because he's just so nice and so loving to you always.

"My sweet lil baby! It's gonna be a big day, ok? Can you go get ready for me?"

Nickname he calls you: Flower (like the bunny from Bambi)

Sexually: He's a mix of a pleasure Daddy, and also maybe a little sadistic. Not physically, but Daddy Felix gets a kick out of denying you what you want. He just thinks you look irresistable when you cry, and he can't help but torture you until you get to that point! He feels so much love for you when he sees the tears welling in your eyes. Your desperate pleas for him to help you just melt his heart. Once he's done being mean to you, he'll fuck you so well and so deep that you're babbling your thank you's like prayers.

"That's my baby. So pretty crying for me. Daddy loves you so much."

Seungmin:

Non-sexually: A little mean, but it comes with actions that say otherwise. Daddy Seungmin likes to tell you no while he's doing or giving you exactly what you asked for. He just likes bullying you, really. He thinks it's fun to see you get all whiny when he's mean to you. He cuddles you when you get too whiny, though, pulling you on to his lap and telling you that you're such a big baby. He'd ask how you could survive without it him when you obviously need your Daddy to take care of you. He always pets your hair and makes sure you have your favourite stuffie (which he's going to hit every time he walks past). He secretly loves how much you need him, and you know that. You're his favourite thing on earth, and that comes with being his favourite toy, which is why he torments you so often.

"You're such a cry baby, you know that? What would you do if I wasn't here to take care of you."

Nickname he calls you: Dumb Baby

Sexually: Ironically, he's much softer in bed than he is outside of it. He likes to make sure your brain is completely mush when he's in Daddy mode. He's hell-bent on removing any tiny thought you could possibly have. He really likes shoving his fingers in your mouth when he's fucking you, watching the way your eyes flutter shut as you suck on the digits. He has a bit of a spit kink that thrives when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and grips your cheeks, telling you to look at him. It drives him crazy to see your cheeks shiny with your own spit as you whimper and moan. His pretty, dumb little thing.

Jeongin:

Non-sexually: He's in the harsh Daddy category. Innie loves when you give him power, and he doesn't like to waste it, setting strict rules and expectations for you. When you're good, he's good. He'll shower you in gifts and take you on adventures to make his baby happy, loving the way your eyes light up when he offers you something nice. When you're bad, though? Oh. He can be an unforgiving Daddy indeed. Innie is one to opt for harsher punishments because you dont act up often, but when you do, it's in a big way. He won't be satisfied until you've begged him to forgive you with enough desperation to convince him that you mean it. He won't make a big deal out of it afterwards, telling you that he loves you and accepts your apology. He knows you're not bad but he hates when you act like it.

"Baby, are you sure you want to do this? You know I'm not gonna be nice to you."

Nickname he calls you: Doll

Sexually: He's driven entirely by a primal need to own his baby. Fucking you in this space means he needs to make sure that you know you belong to him, and that everyone else knows it too. He loves to cover you in pretty marks, and he wants to drive you insane with pleasure. He particularly loves fingering you while he bites at your neck because he really gets to take in the expression on your face when he makes you cum on his talented fingers (which he knows you love also.) Jeongin fucks hard and passionately, always making sure you get off before him. Nothing matters more than making sure you both feel unbearably good.

"That's it. Taking me so fucking well. My baby doll. Wanna see you cum for me baby. Cum for Daddy."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet One 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: have a good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.” 

You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre. 

“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.” 

You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring. 

“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet. 

“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.” 

“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...” 

You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath. 

“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak. 

“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”  

He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself. 

“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do? 

“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say...” 

“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.” 

“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.” 

You don’t know how else to explain it.  

He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.” 

You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.  

“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.” 

You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark. 

“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.” 

You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is. 

“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur. 

“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.” 

He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace. 

Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold. 

“Yum,” he purrs. 

He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice. 

He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white. 

“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.” 

You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do. 

“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--” 

“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.” 

“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says. 

He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up. 

“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.” 

He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him. 

He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there. 

“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.  

“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown. 

“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.” 

Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why? 

Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep. 

You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there. 

You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water. 

You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet. 

You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away. 

“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest. 

He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real. 

Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done. 

👄

You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess. 

There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former. 

You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned. 

“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?” 

You shrug and shake your head. 

He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.” 

Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.” 

You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls. 

“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.” 

He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders. 

“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...” 

“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.  

“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...” 

“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying. 

“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.” 

He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way. 

You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business. 

You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough. 

You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.  

You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more. 

You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up. 

“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince. 

You sniff, “sure.” 

You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp. 

Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs. 

“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?” 

You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself. 

“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.” 

You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent. 

[your-bestamericangirl]

Midnight Love || ch. 3 - white ferrari

Paige Bueckers x Uconnwbb!reader

previous: ch.2 - golden || next: .4 - april || masterlist

a/n: not proofread sorry baes <3

now playing: slow dancing in the dark by joji

She was sat on her bed, the passing clouds cast fleeting shadows over her room, enveloping her in a familiar wave of frustration. Throughout (Y/n)'s life, there had been countless instances where she wished she could freeze time, if only for a moment. In her experience, time never seemed to align in her favour; nothing ever happened at the 'right time,' and she often had to work tirelessly to make things happen. Unfortunately, her life hadn't witnessed any miracles yet, and there seemed to be no signs of any on the horizon to rescue her.

Currently, the clock displayed 5:47 PM.

A river of clothing continued to spill out of (Y/n)’s wardrobe, forming several piles scattered across her floor. Various textures and colours now adorned every crevice of her room. What started as simple 'yes,' 'no,' and 'maybe' piles quickly multiplied into categories like 'yes-if-the-weather-stays-nice' or 'maybe-but-it-would-look-better-if-my-hair-was-up'. Defeated, (Y/n) slumped from her bed to the floor. Choosing an outfit wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly in this context.

5:50 PM

Now would’ve been the perfect moment for her first miracle.

As she stared at the chaotic array of clothing before her, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping in. It wasn't just the prospect of selecting the right outfit; it was the nagging uncertainty about the evening itself, looming on the horizon like an unanswered question. After all, it wasn't like she was getting dressed up for media day, it was just the rest of the team. She found herself second-guessing the decision to go at all. With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) pushed herself off the floor, resolving to make a decision one way or another. As she stood there amidst the scattered clothes, (Y/n) tried to rack her brain for what had compelled her to agree to this outing in the first place.

***That morning

"And good Lord, right then and there, I wished I could’ve just gotten killed earlier on when I was in that shark tank because my mom appeared, mad as hell, and was ready to slap the shit outta me-”

Absentmindedly, (Y/n) hummed in agreement as her eyes scanned the fully stocked shelves. The aroma of freshly baked bread from the nearby bakery section wafted through the air, making (Y/n)'s stomach growl in protest at its emptiness. For the past four aisles, KK had been recounting her so-called horrifying dream from the night before, all from inside their shopping cart. While the first 30 seconds had been captivating, (Y/n) soon realized that KK was far from done. This dream had been so 'emotionally and mentally impactful' that KK felt compelled to act out her car chase scene, resulting in her abandoning the cart. After the fateful crash, the two found themselves with a worker trailing them from behind, ready to intervene with KK’s boisterous antics if needed.

The restock of the week was greatly needed. With the pantry, kitchen, and fruit bowl left with nothing but dust, both girls’ moods had increasingly deteriorated from the day before. As KK continued to recount her experience, (Y/n) was left with the task of finding what they needed. “Mhmm, sounds traumatic speaking of that. What else do we need?”

KK gave her a look. “Yeah, it was. Thank you for your consideration.”

 “Always for you. But you didn’t answer my question—what else do we need?”

Realizing that KK couldn’t wring out any more sympathy from (Y/n), she shifted her focus from recounting her painful nightmare to recalling the items on the grocery list she conveniently left at home—a detail she kept from the older girl.

“Uh, okay damn. I think like… meat?” 

The cart suddenly jerked to a halt, catching KK off guard. She lurched forward, instinctively steadying herself on the shopping cart. The harsh fluorescent lighting overhead felt too intense for the early morning, casting stark shadows across the aisles. 

KK turned around to face her roommate, ready to berate her for the sudden maneuver. However, the words of distaste dissolved on her tongue as she beheld (Y/n)'s expression. The older girl stood before her, eyes closed, brows furrowed in the middle, teetering between disbelief and strained patience. KK would be grateful to come out of this conversation unscathed.

(Y/n)'s tone was short, “KK.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

With a deep inhale, (Y/n) gripped the shopping cart, her fingers tightening around the metal handle as she suppressed the urge to vent her frustration. Swallowing back all the profanities that came to mind, she managed a strained smile. 

“What type of meat?”

“You know, like, bruschetta… maybe some bacon-”

“Maybe?” (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, her patience waning.

KK chuckled, the sound bouncing off the fluorescent-lit aisles. “Nah, just kidding. We definitely need bacon. And also… Oh shit… Ice?”

(Y/n) blinked, the abrupt shift in conversation catching her off guard. “...Ice? KK, are you good? Because last time I checked, you were the one who brought up meat in the first place.”

In response, KK stood up from her position in the shopping cart, the metal rattling as she shifted her weight. “No look, it’s Ice.”

Following KK’s gaze, she then spotted Ice Brady in the next aisle. The 6’3 forward struggled to fit numerous bags of chips into her shopping basket, her arms stretched to their limits.

With a resigned sigh, (Y/n) began to maneuver the cart containing KK towards Ice's location. The wheels squeaked in protest against the linoleum floor, the rhythmic sound echoing in the bustling store. Despite her being a D1 athlete, she found herself growing weary of playing the role of chauffeur for her friend. Yet, as she glanced at KK’s expectant expression, she knew there was no escaping it.

“Ice Brady," KK sang, her arms outstretched in a theatrical gesture as the cart rolled to a stop. The spectacle drew the attention of nearby shoppers, who paused to witness the unfolding scene, transfixed by the unexpected drama. "Would you care for some assistance today?"

Ice, caught off guard by the flamboyant greeting, turned her attention from the bags of chips to KK's infectious smile. Amusement danced in her eyes as she surveyed the scene before her. With a nod of acknowledgment to (Y/n), who was still navigating the cart into a suitable parking spot, Ice responded, "I mean, if you hopped out of the cart, I could put my stuff in, but I wouldn’t want to trouble your highness."

“Oh!” KK’s hands came together in childish glee, pleased by Ice’s answer, “How considerate of you, but it's alright, I’ve been feeling courteous today.”

“So now you’re feeling ‘courteous’?” (Y/n) deadpanned as she made her way around the shopping cart across from Ice. As KK made her stellar attempt to climb out of the cart gracefully, (Y/n) stood behind her to help lift her out, “I’ve literally been pushing you around all morning, babes.” 

She then made her way over toward ice to give assistance with the various chip bags enough to feed a family for christmas dinner. 

“So,” KK started her smile towards Ice, selectively choosing to ignore her roommate’s comment “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Y’know, working had to feed the kids, and all that. You guys sure eat a lot” 

“Wait,” KK gaped, “This is all for us?”

“Have you checked the group chat?” Ice questioned. In fact, they had not. Though she had been added days prior, (Y/n) had decided to keep her distance from that group chat. The two girls turned to look at each other, proceeded by KK quickly checking her phone.

Soon enough, her eyes ignited from within. “Hell yeah, party time,” she sang.

“K, you’re being dramatic, it’s literally just the team,” Ice laughed.

“Theres a hangout tonight?” (Y/n) questioned, her stomach forming knots at the thought of being in a room with all of the UConn Women’s Basketball team.

“Yup, everyone, including you two, are coming over."

(Y/n) glanced between KK and Ice, her expression shifting to one of mild apprehension. "Do I have a choice?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of resignation.

Both KK and Ice exchanged a knowing look before simultaneously replying, "Nope."

6:15 pm

During her first official collegiate-level game freshman year, (Y/n) led her team to a resounding victory, later that night earning her the coveted title of 'The People’s Princess' of the NCAA.

Beneath the blaring lights of the stadium, (Y/n) was radiant. It was a moment she had long envisioned, the culmination of years of relentless dedication and unwavering determination. With her eyes gleaming and her words flowing with confidence, she effortlessly captivated the reporter and everyone in attendance. Her presence seemed to cast a spell over the crowd, drawing them in with her infectious smile and undeniable talent.

In the weeks that followed, (Y/n)'s reputation soared to new heights. However, amidst the high, a subtle unease began to gnaw at her. She quickly realized that the pedestal on which she had been placed came with its own set of challenges.

Despite her remarkable achievements on the court, she found herself confined by the weight of expectations. The public's perception of her became increasingly polarized, with praise often overshadowed by harsh criticism. She was both celebrated and scrutinized for her gentle demeanour, her commanding presence, and even her choice of attire.

The constant contrast between adoration and disdain left her feeling unsettled, she was constantly walking on a tightrope between two worlds. Over time, she became acutely aware of the need to separate her on-court persona from her everyday life, a process that had equally drained but benefited her.

Yet, as she immersed herself deeper into the complexities of her newfound fame, (Y/n) couldn't shake the nagging feeling that appearance had become everything.  In a world where perception was predominant, she grappled with the notion that her worth was measured not by her character or accomplishments, but by the image she projected to the world.

All this to say that unfortunately, (Y/n) had been second-guessing tonight’s event over and over again.  Only two individuals had truly seen beyond the facade she meticulously maintained: KK and, in a distant past, Paige.

As (Y/n)'s life flashed before her eyes, her gaze fixed on the door before her, its weathered surface worn by years of use. The soft hum of chatter from beyond the door drifted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of pizza and anticipation that hung in the hallway. Each groove in the wood seemed to whisper secrets, a silent witness to her inner turmoil.

She took a deep breath, her fingers tracing the edges of the doorframe. The cool touch of the wood against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, a tangible reminder of the reality awaiting her on the other side. What would they think of her? Did she look presentable enough? Doubts gnawed at her confidence, threatening to unravel the facade she had carefully constructed.

With a steadying exhale, (Y/n) pushed open the door, crossing the threshold into the unknown. The soft click of the latch echoed in her ears, signaling her descent into the realm of uncertainty.

The scene unfolded before her, intimate and genuine, a tapestry woven with the bonds of teammates. The UConn Women’s Basketball team occupied every corner of Ice’s condo, their laughter mingling with the warmth of the confined space. Despite the inviting atmosphere, (Y/n) couldn’t shake the feeling of being an intruder in this vibrant gathering.

With each step forward, (Y/n) sensed the weight of her decision. The events of this evening would undoubtedly shape her relationship with the team for the rest of the year.

Luckily, no one had noticed her entrance yet. As (Y/n) scanned the room, she searched for KK among the multitude of bodies, most of them towering over her. Despite her efforts, KK remained elusive. Frustration etched her features as uncertainty gnawed at her. She caught her reflection in a nearby mirror, regarding herself with unease.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Lost in her inner turmoil, (Y/n) failed to notice the door behind her slowly swinging open.

As the door swung shut, the breeze proceeded to cause a shift among her hair. Shoving away all distractions, (Y/n) straightened her back, took a deep breath and prepared for her next step further into the house.

“You gonna move? Or do you need help, princess?” Paige's voice cut through the air, shattering (Y/n)'s concentration. All prior thoughts dissolved from her mind at those words, her focus instantly shifting to the unexpected encounter with Paige.

Despite the familiarity of seeing Paige's face plastered on banners around UConn, the proximity still rattled her. She had thought she'd grown accustomed to it, but the reality of facing Paige in person was an entirely different experience.

She had an image to maintain, (Y/n) wouldn’t shy away at simple words anymore.

With a subtle steeling of her resolve, she turned to face the taller girl, meeting Paige's gaze head-on. Though she found herself looking up at Paige, she refused to give any ground in their exchange.

The tension between them crackled in the air, each word laden with unspoken history and unresolved emotions. (Y/n)'s jaw tightened, but she refused to let Paige see any hint of vulnerability. She squared her shoulders and held Paige's gaze with unwavering determination.

"No need for assistance, thanks," (Y/n) replied evenly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil swirling inside her. "I can handle myself just fine."

Paige chuckled, taking a step closer to her. "Of course you can, Your Highness," she quipped, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "But it wouldn't hurt to let someone lend a hand every now and then."

(Y/n) bristled at the implication but forced herself to remain composed. "I'll keep that in mind," she replied curtly, stepping aside to let Paige pass.

Paige's lips quirked into a knowing smirk, but she didn't press the issue further. 

While Paige moved past her, (Y/n) couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that lingered in the air. Despite her best efforts to maintain her facade of confidence, there was a vulnerability in her interactions with Paige that she couldn't seem to shake.

As (Y/n) made her way further into the room, she found herself enveloped in a warm atmosphere. Smiles greeted her from every direction, genuine and welcoming, easing the tension that had knotted in her stomach.

“Damn, girl, I was just about to check if you had been kidnapped! What took you so long.” Exclaimed KK as she searched every inch of (Y/n). The younger girl’s gaze soon turned towards Paige suspiciously suddenly recounting the day prior, eyes snapping back and fourth. But then quieter KK added, “Hm, okay, I see, I see…”

A chorus of laughter bubbled up around them at KK’s dramatic statement, the sound infectious and light-hearted. (Y/n) couldn't help but smile in response, the weight of earlier uncertainties melting away in the warmth of their acceptance.

Any lingering tension between them dissipated in the face of the group's genuine warmth, replaced by a sense of belonging and shared purpose.

After making her rounds, (Y/n) went to sit by the couch, where a mini circle had formed as the team watched Azzi and Aubrey in their death match of Mario Cart. The room was filled with the rhythmic clicking of controllers and the occasional whoops and groans as players navigated their virtual karts through the colourful tracks. Azzi and Aubrey were locked in intense concentration, their eyes glued to the screen as they jostled for the lead. The competitive banter between them added to the lively atmosphere, punctuated by bursts of laughter and playful teasing from the rest of the team. (Y/n) leaned back, taking in the scene with a contented smile.

As the night progressed, (Y/n) found herself settling in, enjoying the easy connection of the team. Their genuine willingness to engage with her put her at ease, dispelling any lingering apprehension. After wrapping up a conversation with Ashlyn about her cats back at home, (Y/n) decided to take a brief respite. She excused herself and made her way to the kitchen, feeling a headache creeping in as result of the loud atmosphere. 

The cool touch of the glass along her fingers was well welcomed as (Y/n) took a sip of water. From her position in the kitchen, she had a comforting view of the apartment. As her gaze swept from Azzi and Aubrey fighting about wins and losses, to KK and Aaliyah filming their third tiktok of the night, her eyes landed on Paige. 

Obviously, people change as they grow up. Physically, Paige was taller. Her dark blond roots peaked out like a halo. But, the space between them seemed to grow as well. 

With a sigh, she turned to grab another sip of water. The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights, hummed with activity. The tiled floor gleamed underfoot, a testament to the cleanliness maintained in the shared space.

Unfortunately, right as she turned, she bumped into the one and only Nika Muhl.

“Oh, shit,” (Y/n) jumped, the water in her glass sloshing dangerously close to the brim.

Before she could react, the collision resulted in the water spilling on Nika, the droplets now flowing from Nika’s shirt onto the tiles below. (Y/n)'s heart sank at the sight

“I’m so sorry, let me help you,” she stammered, scrambling for a nearby towel, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Nika waved off (Y/n)'s apology with a chuckle, her easygoing demeanour putting her at ease. "Don’t worry about it, (Y/n). Accidents happen." Nika took the towel she offered and dabbed at her shirt, trying to contain the spill.

(Y/n) winced, feeling guilty. "I didn't mean to, I was just lost in thought."

Nika leaned against the counter, a small smile playing on her lips. "No harm done. Do you want to talk about whatever was on your mind?"

(Y/n) hesitated, not wanting to burden Nika with her concerns. But Nika's warm gaze encouraged her to speak up. "Yeah, I'm just trying to find my place with the team, you know? Sometimes it feels like I'm still the new kid."

Nika nodded in understanding, crossing her arms casually. "I get that. But trust me, (Y/n), you fit right in. Everyone likes you."

(Y/n) felt a warmth spread through her chest at Nika's words, and she couldn't help but blush. "Thanks, Nika. That means a lot."

Nika chuckled, nudging (Y/n) playfully. "Hey, don't mention it. And you know what? Even Paige couldn't stop talking about how excited she was when she found out you were joining."

(Y/n)'s eyes widened in surprise at the mention of Paige. "Really?"

Nika nodded, a knowing smile on her face. "Yep, really. It seems you’re quite the People’s Princess, (Y/n)."

Feeling a mix of emotions, (Y/n) leaned against the counter beside Nika, both of them watching the group outside the kitchen enjoying themselves. The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop to their conversation.

 However, (Y/n)'s attention was soon drawn to the sight of everyone getting up and preparing to leave. "Where is everyone going?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

Nika followed her gaze, her expression turning playful. "I guess it’s about that time now.” Nika then stood up to trail the team out of the apartment. “Team tradition."

Now playing: white ferrari by frank ocean

The night enveloped the surroundings in a tranquil embrace, casting a serene aura over the playground. The soft glow of the moon and stars illuminated the path ahead, casting gentle shadows on the playground equipment.

Amidst the laughter of her companions, (Y/n) found herself immersed in the peaceful ambiance of the night. As she followed behind the group, she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. The cool night air brushed against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass and distant city lights.

With each step, (Y/n) felt a weight lifting from her shoulders, replaced by a quiet sense of serenity. She took in the sight of her newfound teammates friends ahead, their silhouettes dancing against the night sky, and allowed herself to be relax the moment, grateful for the new joys she would encounter with this team.

As they made their way onto the playground, the flash of red and blue metal bars pierced the air, bringing back memories of a time when playing D1 basketball was just a distant dream.

Following close behind, (Y/n) ended her destination at a swing set that shone silver and gold against the night sky. The chains groaned in response of her weight, their link rattling together, forming a melody long forgotten. As her world slowly swung on an axis, (Y/n) couldn’t help but finally be at ease. 

As (Y/n) allowed herself to sink into the comforting rhythm of the swing, she became aware of a presence nearby. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted Paige making her way towards the swing set, her silhouette cutting through the darkness like a shadow. Despite the tension that often lingered between them, there was something oddly comforting about Paige's proximity in that moment. With a silent invitation, (Y/n) watched as Paige settled onto the swing beside her, the chains creaking softly in protest under their combined weight.

For a moment, there was only the soft whip of the wind that passed by (Y/n)’s ears, occasionally broken by the rattling chains and the laughter that drifted from the playground. Though things between the two girls were complicated, (Y/n) missed their time together. 

With a sigh, her eyes searched the distant lights above. Her mind filled in the blanks and connected the dots of the stars in the skies. Unbeknownst to (Y/n), Paige had been doing the same since she arrived.

“Ursa Major,” Paige murmured, the name of the constellation unintentionally slipping from her lips.

At the sudden break in the comforting silence, (Y/n) glanced over to her, giving her full attention. 

"Is it still your favorite?" Paige asked, her voice soft with genuine curiosity, her gaze falling to the side to find (Y/n)’s surprised expression within the darkness.

“Yeah,” (Y/n) spoke softly, her mind filled with the countless nights they searched the sky together. An unexplainable wave of yearning and sadness washed over her senses, “it is.”

Paige then turned her attention back to the sky above, all while (Y/n) was still processing the fact that she remembered her favourite constellation.

“You still remember?” (Y/n) asked, the question slipping from her mind out to the world before she could stop herself.

Paige felt her blood rush scarlet. “Yeah, you know… how could I forget?”

Paige’s answer stunned her. She assumed that since they parted ways, Paige would’ve also tried to erase the memories from her mind. For (Y/n), it had been too much to remember.

Paige's response  lingered in the air, the weight of its meaning hanging heavy between them.

Paige hesitated, her gaze searching (Y/n)'s face for any sign of recognition. "Do you ever miss it?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

(Y/n)'s heart skipped a beat at the question, her mind racing as she struggled to find the right words. "Miss what?" she replied, her voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft glow of the stars.

Paige's gaze softened. "Us," she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

A whirlwind of emotions swept through (Y/n) at Paige's question. Her chest tightened, and her breath caught in her throat. The weight of their shared history pressed down on her, threatening to overwhelm her fragile composure.

Yet, amid the turmoil of conflicting emotions, a flicker of longing ignited within her.

Everyday.

She wanted to respond.

I’ve never stopped missing us. 

She hadn’t expected such a question from Paige. Though she had been hoping, deep down, she knew that Paige might not have the same space for her in her world. After all, a sun doesn’t need a moon to survive.

Over time, their dynamic had shifted, revealing that (Y/n) relied more on Paige than the other way around. But those words brought into question whether (Y/n) had been wrong about them all along.

Her eyes swept to the side to meet Paige’s expectant gaze, her eyes reflecting the silver moonlight.

“Always.”

Neither Paige nor (Y/n) had been expecting the answer to be spoken. At the revelation, the corners of Paige’s lips curved into the slightest smile. 

As soon as the conversation started, silence drifted between them, The two girls drifted back into their quiet comfort. Only now, they both shared the same information. Possibilities of the upcoming sprung up into (Y/n)’s mind. Things would be different then she expected, but maybe that was a good thing.

(Deleted scene)

“Nah, Paige is occupied at the moment,” KK laughed, her voice carrying over the chatter of the group. With a deft swing from the monkey bars, she landed next to Aaliyah, where her phone was propped up to capture their talents. As they continued their antics, the live chat exploded with questions about (Y/n) after the idea of getting Paige on the stream was quickly shut down.

“Damn,” Aaliyah murmured, her eyes scanning the flood of messages, “y’all really love her, don’t you?”

A chorus of affirmative responses flooded the chat. Meanwhile, Azzi's voice cut through the background noise, calling both Aaliyah and KK over to witness her latest feat on the monkey bars. With a shared grin, the two girls left their spot, drawn by Azzi's infectious energy.

In the darkness of the night, the bottom right corner of the screen was illuminated just enough to make ou two silhouettes together on a swing set. The descovery sparked a flurry of speculation in the chat. Messages scrolled rapidly as viewers attempted to decipher the identities of the mysterious figures. Within moments, messages began pouring out as Paige and (Y/n) were finally identified.

(Y/n) and Paige: Sparks Fly on Live Stream

Fans were treated to an unexpected sight during teammate KK Arnold's recent live stream, as basketball stars (Y/n) (L/n) and Paige Bueckers made a joint appearance. Their presence together immediately set social media abuzz, with fans reigniting dating rumors that have followed the pair for years. Despite both athletes maintaining silence on the matter, the resurgence of speculation has divided fans, with some eagerly shipping the duo while others advocate for their privacy. As (Y/n) and Paige continue to focus on their careers, fans remain captivated by the possibility of a romantic connection between the two athletes.

a/n: yuhh chapter two done! sorry for the wait, it's been a tough week lmao! anyways, im begging you PLEASE LISTEN TO WHITE FERRARI WHILE READING THE NIGHT SCENE ITS SO GOOD

anyways, thanks for all the love and support you guys are the best, loving all the comments <333

also for future chapters, does anyone live in seattle? cuz mc is gonna be from there and i need a highschool that was good at basketball or just one in general. LOVE YALL SO MUCH SEE YOU NEXT TIME

taglist: @kenzie-luvzz , @juphey , @h34rtsformilli , @pinkandlilacroses , @i-bribri-i , @thatonemarvelfan03 , @girlokwhatever , @ihrtthotdads , @kc88888888 , @nfleditsrjustbetteridk , @imsobabygiirl , @vi0lentb3rry , @sejus-wife , @katemlk , @littlelesbianinternujung , @ktaerssoi , @evangelinexo , @c999sh

[tofupixel]

How do you choose your colors? They’re always so nice!

thank you!

i have kind of a set distance that i change hue and value as i go lighter or darker, and i just think if i want to do cool or warm shadows. sometimes i do cyan highlights instead of yellow/white so my lighter shades gradually move towards blue. i actually use a 50% opacity brush to make a midtone between two colours to make my "gradients"

if im having fun with colours then i try to make sure any weird colour that i add has a similar relative value to the surrounding (value = lightness when in black and white)

all in all i think colours are mostly vibes and things can be wrong and still look right so i just like experimenting !!

edit: here is a nice tutorial i enjoyed when i was starting out

[barefoothighlander]

the vow - i

summary: you’re betrothed to the future king of Guilder and a fearsome knight is assigned to protect you. medieval au

knight!simon ‘ghost’ riley x princess!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), age gap, violence, arranged marriage, infidelity

next part masterlist

a/n: @/dinalgo on tiktok posted some hc art of knight!ghost and i’m obsessed, so here’s my interpretation of that except I refuse to write in old English, also points if you catch the references I threw in

The sun shines brightly through the large window, the breeze blowing the trees outside your room, for a small moment, the world is quiet, just the songs of morning birds chirping on the balcony fill your ears, there’s no noise, no worries. 

The moment is quickly ruined by the sound of your maids bustling into the room, arms full of clothing and various tools, you turn your gaze to them slowly,

“Princess, good morning”

“I’ve told you a hundred times, please use my name”

“The Prince requests that we refer to you by your title m’lady”

“Well we wouldn’t want to upset him would we” Your tone is sarcastic as you make your way over to the women, one of them fixes your bed while the other prepares a bath, setting out your clothes. You step into the warm water, soothing a rag over your muscles to clean yourself before one of the ladies takes over, dumping water over your head to wash your hair. You sit for a few minutes in the water, allowing them to work around you, 

“You’re quiet this morning”

“Mm not much on my mind I’m afraid”

“You’re not excited for the festivities?”

“The feast should be nice, I don’t care much for the rest”

“Don’t talk like that” The older woman scolds, Clarice had known you since birth tending to you as a young girl, always by your side while you grew up in court, more a mother to you than your actual mother. “The Prince is handsome, a worthy adversary”

“Yes handsome, but also rude, stubborn, cold, everything I despise”

“With time you will grow to love him”

“I surely doubt that” You scoff

She furrows her eyebrows at you, “There, now let's get you dressed”

She helps you out of the bath over to the other maid, Beatrice, you had known her for less time, her position assigned to you when you came to the court after your engagement was announced. Your Father was the king of Florin, and you as his only child had the unfortunate position of being in an arranged marriage to the Prince of Guilder, the Monarchs of the country being old and weary, their son was to be crowned before the year ended and he needed a wife. Your countries had been at war for years, the violence only ceasing when your engagement had been announced, you had been in Guilder for a week now, hold up in the castle away from the public eye, today was the day that your engagement would be formally announced, a festival for your sake being held on the castle ground, thousands of people crammed inside the grounds all trying to get a look at you and the Prince, the idea made your stomach turn.

Your early years had been spent wandering the grounds of your families castle, the tall stone walls becoming a home after the years you spent in them, you felt sick for your old life, your freedom, you could run around the gardens, ride the horses whenever you wanted back home, but here, every action of yours was watched, criticized, you were told how to look, where to be and when, every part of your life was in the control of the Prince and your Father, you hated it.

You had gotten dressed, your breaths feeling tight due to the corset you wore, another freedom you yearned for was being able to wear clothing of your choosing, now everything was blue and green, the colours of Guilder, always tight on your chest to emphasize your figure, your hair was done up in a knot, a few loose strands falling to tickle your neck and cheeks.

“Beautiful” Clarice says, a soft smile on her face

“I look like a peacock”

“You do not, you’ve grown into such a beautiful woman, my little princess” Her hand is soft on your cheek, you smile at the tender action, always finding comfort in her. “Now, we must go, you’re needed downstairs”

You struggle to take a deep breath, silently cursing the fabric binding your chest as you make your way through the wide halls, they were lined with various adornments, some tapestries, a few swords hung beside scattered candles, it felt cold here, no comfort in the walls, everything was jagged and silver.

“Now, the Prince will introduce you, then the jousting will begin”

“Is anyone from Florin going to be in the duels?”

“I’m not sure my dear, there’s plenty of men from across the countries”

You nod, looping your arms through hers as you walk side by side, you stand at the large opening that leads out to the balcony above the castle grounds, everything is decorated in the countries colours, it’s so formal, you feel like a stranger in your new home, everything so similar yet so different, you had no family here, no friends aside from Clarice, you give her a soft smile before unhooking your arm, waiting for the Prince to announce you before walking out.

You step out onto the balcony, the warm sun hitting your skin, there’s a symphony of clapping and whistling, you look down at hundreds of people, all staring back at you, you wave to them,

“Sit down” The Prince speaks, you turn to him, his face is stoic, there’s no softness in his features, you abide, sitting down in the tall chair next to him. They begin the jousts, two by two the men file out, setting up on their horses, the Prince turns to you with every new competitor, explaining who they were and where they were from, including his personal opinion on the men.

You see a tall man enter the field, his armour pure black, his horse the same, he’s larger than the rest of the competitors, his helmet shaped like a skull, his chest plate donning an emblem you didn’t recognize.

“Who’s that one”

The Prince leans over the balcony to get a better look, eyes squinting in an effort to make out the symbol,

“I’m not sure, must be some farmboy playing make belief”

You respond with a small oh, the knight approaches the balcony, his hand reaching to remove his helmet, the light hits his face, streaking colours through his blonde hair, you can make out a few scars on his face, even from your distance you can see the deep colour of his eyes, his face is firm staring up at you, you’re frozen in your spot, staring back at him, he raises his lance toward you, without thinking you reach behind you, grabbing a ring of flowers held together by a ribbon, and throwing it onto his lance, it falls to the base, the flowers close enough that he could smell their aroma, he says nothing, not even a nod, he simply puts his helmet back on and moves to mount his horse.

You step back, your eyes stuck on him as you return to your seat,

“What was that?”

“Sorry?”

“You gave him your favour”

“Thought the farmboy could use some luck against Ser Michael”

“Ah, yes” The Prince goes on to ramble about the accomplishments of the opponent, his success in battle, how much he admired his bravery, but you aren’t listening, your focus completely taken by the shadowy knight galloping toward the centre of the pit, his lance raised as he thrusts it into his opponent, throwing him off his horse. The crowd erupts in cheers, you swallow thickly as you watch him get off his horse, moving toward you, he kneels in front of you,

“Simon Riley your highness”

“Where do you hail from Ser?” The Prince stands, your eyes are focused on him as he bows his head

“The North, but I am no Ser”

“You’re not a knight? You wear the armour of a knight”

“The armour belonged to my father”

“And where is he, your father?”

“Dead 10 years ago your highness”

“And tell me, why have you come”

“I come to prove my honour, to serve you”

“Very well, you may go”

You watch a few more rounds of jousting, growing bored with the same thing happening, they announce the final duel before urging the groups to attend the feast, you make your way down from the balcony, towards the high tables in the gardens, your eyes roaming over the groups of people, struggling to find a familiar face in the crowd.

“So what did you think?” The Prince asks

“About what?”

“The jousting” He scoffs

“They were all quite good”

“What about that Simon Riley”

You whip your head towards him, “I thought little of him, why?”

“Well he was rather large don’t you think, I might add him to my guard”

“Add him to mine” You speak before thinking

“Why would I add him to yours”

“I have no guard, no one to protect me”

“Well, I’ll arrange for you to choose a guard tomorrow then, perhaps then you’ll finally feel at ease here”

You nod your head, turning quickly from him, you greet the King and Queen, making small conversation about the state of the castle, the blooming bouquets of blue poppies that adorned the various pillars, your eyes are drawn to Simon, his dark appearance a stark contrast to the brightly dressed patrons that mingle around the grounds, you watch him disappear around a corner, it’s not until the Queen calls your name that you realize you had been staring at him the whole time.

“Sorry your majesty, my brain has been a fuzz all week, what did you ask?”

“That’s alright dear, with all the excitement I can hardly focus myself, I was just wondering if you had decided on a dress for the wedding”

“Oh, not yet, you’ve brought so many beautiful options I haven’t been able to decide”

“I understand, we have the best dressmakers here, but do make time to choose, we wouldn't want to delay such an important decision”

“Of course”

She smiles at you, looping her arm through her husbands as they walk on, you stand there, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of everything happening around you, you had only a week until you were to be wed and you had every decision already made for you, your fiancee and his mother picking out every detail of the wedding down to what bouquet you’d be carrying, they had decided that you would hold a large grouping of the blue poppies you see everywhere, the royal flower of Guilder, no part of the wedding made notice of your heritage, all traces of Florin erased from the ceremony, you were to be wed according to Guilder law rather than the customs of your home.

They had arranged for your father to attend but no one else, claiming that there simply wasn’t space for extra people to join, they had cut you off from your old life completely, forcing you to conform to their way of life, moulding you into the perfect Queen, obedient and meek, you despised it, you longed for your freedom from the confines of the castle.

When the feast ended and you had spoken to all the nobility you needed to, you were escorted back to your quarters, the silence of the large stone walls consuming you once again, no birds singing, no rushing of maids, just you and the night sky. It was late, the dark consuming the outer land in a blanket of shadows as you stood on your balcony looking over the moonlit gardens, that was the only good thing about your new home, a perfect view of the perfect gardens, every shrub perfectly manicured, bending and winding in a maze that led to a small fountain in the centre, each flower a shade of green and blue. Truth be told you didn’t think much of the colours before moving but now, you despised them, every shade a sharp reminder of how you didn’t belong, the colours mocked you as they invaded your eyesight, you huffed a breath to yourself, eyeing the grounds below for any sign of guards. 

There was one roaming the grounds, you thought you could easily avoid detection if you were quick, you grab your robe wrapping yourself in it, a small attempt to keep yourself warm from the cool air of the night as you creep towards your door. They were heavy, large slabs of wood, you open in slowly to avoid any creaks, slipping through the opening and rushing down the hallway, there was a small door meant for staff that you entered, making your way down the thin stairs and peering through the door outside, the guard has his back turned, you inch the door open and slide through, quickly moving towards the gardens. You walk under a large arch of shrubs, the smell of the flowers invading your senses, bushes of wolfsbane, oleander and wisteria fill the gardens, all beautiful but deadly, a worthy metaphor for your new home, you roam the isles of the garden, lost in the hidden openings and similar corners.

After a few minutes, you find yourself in the middle, a tall fountain in front of you, it’s stunning, the intricate details of the stone swirling as the water crashes into the pool, you sit in the grass, listening to the sound, letting it relax you, finally a break from the quiet that wasn’t the screaming of citizens, or the demeaning words of your future mother-in-law. You close your eyes, the grass tickles your skin as you relax, breathing in the fresh air, you hear a small rustle in the grass, breaking you from your state, you turn your ear to the noise, calling out quietly to see if anyone was there. There was no reason for anyone to be in the gardens at this hour, in fact, the Prince practically forbade it, you stand slowly, following the rustling noise, peeking around a corner you see a quick movement turning the corner, moving faster you approach it, your heartbeat heavy as you near, you turn to find the culprit and let out a small gasp, a small white rabbit was sat, chewing on some shrubs, you kneel down extending your hand towards it.

“Come here little guy, these gardens aren’t safe for you” It hops toward you, nearly touching your hand before it turns on its heel and sprints away, you furrow your brows in confusion,

“They aren’t safe for you either Princess”

Your breath stops, you feel the looming figure behind you as you slowly stand, you heartbeat now thrumming in your ears, you turn to face him, he almost melts into the darkness of the garden, his armour pitch black,

“You should get back inside”

Goosebumps cover your skin, your breaths shallow as you stare at him, you back up slowly, turning around to move through the gardens, you turn around the corners, trying to find your way out, your feet carry you through the grass, you follow the lights inside the windows, trying to get out. You rush towards the exit, eyes focused on the light as you collide with the guard, stumbling into him,

“I’m sorry”

“Princess? What are you doing outside?”

“I just needed some air” Your breathes are shaky as he scans your face,

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, completely, just need to go back inside I think the air was a little too cold”

“Well hurry in then” He nods, stepping aside to let you pass, you move past him hastily, opening the doors inside you make your way back up the stairs, you enter your room and release a breath, rushing towards your balcony to try and catch a glimpse of him. Your eyes scan the gardens, the night doing its job of concealing anything within the green walls, you see nothing, no movement anywhere, it's like he wasn’t even there, you think you imagined him, his deep voice ringing in your ears as you lay in your bed.

The next morning was calm, you woke early to the sound of your maids making their way inside, Clarice helping you dress and doing your hair while Beatrice makes your bed, tidying the room.

“Exciting day today” Clarice says

“What do you mean?”

“The Prince has arranged for you to pick a guard, I suppose he fears a possible war and wants you safe”

You nod at her, “I don’t believe the Prince fears for my safety as much as you do” you whisper, she shushes you, her eyes darting to Beatrice to make sure she didn’t hear, “Bite your tongue child”. You let out a small giggle, amused by how concerned she is, allowing her to finish your hair before you make your way to the throne room, you enter through the massive doors to a room of scattered men, all donning their house armour, you look around and see no sight of the dark knight. You stand atop the small set of stairs, looking down at the men as they announce themselves one by one, giving you their names and listing all their accomplishments, victories in battle, how they were undefeated in jousting in their home. You’re bored after an hour of their bragging, your mind oblivious to the fact that you have to choose one of them to be around you for hours at a time, an older man stands to speak but is interrupted by the sound of the doors opening, everyone turns their heads at the sound, their eyes widening at the sight of the tall man clad in black, he keeps his helmet on as he enters, only removing it to kneel before you.

“Simon Riley m’lady”

“Not Ser?”

“I beg your pardon”

“Everyone else here is a knight, why are you not?”

“I’m the last remaining member of my house m’lady, we’re a forgotten house”

“I expect my guard to be knighted”

“I may not hold a title Princess, but I assure you I would lay my life down for you” He turns his head to look at you as he speaks, and you release a strained breath,

“You may all leave” You address the room, Simon stands, “You stay” You look to him and he nods, the room is consumed in silence as the other men exit, leaving you alone with him, “Why were you in the gardens last night?”

“I needed to clear my head”

“It’s forbidden to be on castle grounds after dark”

“And yet you were there” He looks up to you, you swallow a thick gulp.

“You’ll be assigned to me, keep me safe”

“Thank you, Princess” He bows his head, 

“And don’t wear your helmet inside, it’s unnerving”

He fights the smile that creeps up on his lips as you turn away from him, exiting through the back of the room, you make your way to the Prince's quarters, his guards stand outside the door.

“Princess” They greet you

“Hello, I need to speak to the Prince”

They look to each other and back to you, “He’s busy I’m afraid”

“It’s a matter of staff” You try to push past them but they stop you, you furrow your brow at them, one takes a moment, knocking on the door.

“My Prince, the Princess wishes to speak with you” He shouts through the door, you hear shuffling through the door, the Prince mumbling something before he steps to the door, opening it, he’s half-dressed, his hair a mess, you watch him peer backwards, mouthing something and it all clicks in your head, you feel your chest tighten.

“What did you need my love” The name feels like a stab to your chest,

“I’ve chosen my guard, Simon”

“Simon?”

“The black knight from the feast” You watch the gears spin in his mind

“Yes very well” He turns away,

“He needs to be knighted”

He sighs, “He holds no title?”

“Not yet no”

“Fine, inform him that he should be in the throne room by nightfall, I shall do it then”

Before you can respond he closes the door, the shuffling and giggles behind the door resuming, you spare a polite smile to the guards, turning away and making your way to your quarters.

You sit at the small table in your room, your eyes watching through the window as people wander the grounds, you call for Clarice who meets your side in an instant,

“Please inform my guard he is to be in the throne room after dinner”

“Very well Princess” She smiles at you before leaving, you sit quietly in your room, daydreaming about being outside in the fields, exploring the ponds around the castle grounds, being anywhere but here. The time passes quickly, a servant knocks on your door to inform you that dinner was prepared, you make your way down to the dining hall, the air of the room feeling colder as you sit down, dinners were the same, just you, the Prince and the Queen, the King being in poor health was kept in his room, only brought out for special occasions. You sit and eat, picking at the meal in front of you as the two of them discuss wedding preparations like you aren’t there, they don’t ask for your input, deciding on things alone, after a few minutes you stand to excuse yourself,

“You’re done eating?”

You stop in your tracks, “Not particularly hungry this evening”

“Well, I should see you in a few moments in the throne room then,” He says, turning back to his conversation, disregarding you.

You make your way to the large room, the walls high, large windows separating the spaces in them, you stare at the ceiling, it’s ridiculously tall, with large chandeliers hanging from the crossing beams, there are pictures hanging on the wall, you stride past them not bothering to spare them a glance as you hear the doors open, The Prince walks in beside his own guard, Simon trailing behind them, your gaze softens as you look at him, he kneels in front of the Prince, removing his helmet, you’re close enough now that you can properly make out his features, the sharp line of his jaw, the scar that crosses through his eyebrow, and his eyes, dark and rich, his hair falling slightly across his forehead as he bows his head. The Prince declares a few words, taking a sword from his guard and tapping it onto Simon's shoulders, the knight stands to his height, he towers over the Prince, having to look down to meet his eyes, he swears a few words, giving his oath to the Prince before everything is settled. The Prince nods, stepping away and leaving the room, Simon turns to you,

“Ser Simon” You nod

“Princess”

You stand there looking at him, words unable to make their way from your lips, you simply turn and leave, his eyes following you as you exit making your way up to your room, he trails behind you, his helmet under his arm as you reach your door, he stands with his back to the wall, his eyes focusing around the halls as you enter your room. You step in and close the door, your back falling against the hard wood as you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, bracing yourself against the door, you take a few seconds to gather your thoughts before moving further into the room, stripping yourself of your dress to put on more comfortable clothes, feeling like you could properly inhale without the burden of a corset.

You spend an hour alone in your room, pacing around trying to occupy your mind, the pale walls doing little to aid your efforts, you think to yourself for a minute, your legs carry you across the rooms towards your door where you stand for a moment, collecting yourself before opening it,

“Princess, is there a problem?” He asks

You shake your head, you’re entranced by his gaze, “Where is your family Ser?”

“My family?”

“You come here holding no title, no accomplishments, who are you?”

“I’m no one”

“Nobody is no one”

He smiles slightly, his eyes crinkling, “I come from England Princess, my family owned a farm before the war, and now I am here”

“And your family, what of them”

“Dead m’lady”

Your face drops, your heart thumps with empathy, “I apologize for my words, I had no idea”

“How could you have”

“Yes well, how did you come to be in the country?”

“I’m not sure, I left home one day and just kept going until I arrived in the countryside”

“And you chose to stay here?”

“It’s beautiful here”

“It seems that way”

“Seems?”

You stumble over your own words, careful to not give yourself away, “I simply mean it’s not my home”

“You’re not from here”

“No, I come from Florin”

“I have never been”

“Well I hope you get to see it one day, it’s beautiful, tall cliffs with waterfalls, every part of it breathtaking”

He watches you speak with deep interest, hanging on to every word that falls from your lips, “You miss it?”

“More and more every day” You admit

“And you can’t go home”

“Not if I am to be Queen” Your smile fades

He nods, you turn your gaze to him, oblivious to the fact that he’s been staring at you the entire time, his eyes memorizing every feature of your face, every smile line and ridge, you turn from him quickly, nervous under his stare.

“It’s late Princess, you should be in bed”

You turn back to him, a polite smile on your face as you walk back into your room, your hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment, wishing you could keep talking to him. You lay in your bed wide awake, the words exchanged with Simon the first conversation you’d had that didn’t concern the details of your marriage, he was the first person to ask about your feelings, your home, you figured he must’ve just been being polite, too nervous about getting sent away to say anything different to you.

Simon stands guard over your room while you sleep, turning away any guard who tried to take his position, intent on ensuring your safety within the confines of your room.

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I wanted to request something with Prince Steve and his soulmate. I feel like we’ve started to see them warm up to each other but maybe we could see reader start to meet Steve’s friends and see that she’s got more people standing behind her? Like maybe Robin and Eddie teasing Steve about something embarrassing in front of her or I know she hasn’t shown up yet but I could totally see Nancy as like a lady in waiting/tutor to teach her all about proper manners but in the process she spills all these stories about Steve growing up?

thank you for requesting ♡ prince steve au fem, 1k

A knock at the door, an impatient huff. "Are you ready yet?" 

"Come in, Steve." 

He wedges into your rooms, a basket in his hands. "Why are you on the floor?" 

"Can't tie my stupid shoes," you complain, dropping your hands down, knee pulled up, too warm for all the fuss. 

Steve nearly drops the basket, he's that enthusiastic to help you out. He kneels by your feet and takes the laces of your shoes into his hands, pulling them tight, his eyebrows pinched tighter. "That okay?" he asks, pausing his loop. 

"Yeah. Thank you." 

"They didn't teach you how to tie your shoes back home? We need outreach immediately." 

You laugh and lay back on the plush rug behind you. "It's the weird eyelets. You royals do everything weird. Like picnicking." 

"So many points. These aren't eyelets, they're lace hooks. You're pretty much as royal as I am, or you will be in a matter of days. And," —he finishes tying your boot, pulling the other toward him with a small laugh— "Robin wanted a picnic. She's not royal. None of your points make any sense." 

"You'll be a wretched husband." 

Steve takes your hands and pulls you up into a sitting position. He doesn't let them go, transferring both into one so he has a hand free to straighten up your cardigan. "And you'll be a cherished wife." 

Steve pulls you onto your feet. Together, you walk through the selenite halls of the palace to the prince's private gardens, where a gazebo the colour of the sky stands shading refreshments from the eager sun. Helping themselves to the hors d'oeuvres are a tall Eddie and a shorter partner in crime, Robin. Nancy lays out in the grass next to who you assume to be her boyfriend, a handsome guy with two books in his hands, still closed. He squints in the sun, waving as you and Steve approach. 

"Hey!" he greets. "You're late."

"Don't get up," Steve jokes, waving back at him and Nancy, who's barely lifted her head. "Not like I'm anyone important." 

"Very, very hard to find you important when you're wearing shorts," Eddie says. 

Steve shrugs. "She likes them." 

You realise belatedly and with horror that you're she. How does he know you like his nice shorts? Either way, his indifference so long as you like them makes you flush, leaving his side in search of a cold drink to drown yourself in.

"Did you bring the bat?" Steve asks Jonathan behind you. 

"Hey, babe," Eddie says, offering you a glass cup set with pressed flowers in the sides, "you okay?" 

"Is that lemonade?" you ask, pointing at one of the small water dispensers. Their glass shells shine with condensation, more ice cubes than liquid inside. It's a cloudy white with blood orange slices cut and garnishing the top, their juice seeping downward slowly. 

"Sure is. Prince Stevie's favourite, as always. Don't know where the sudden love for oranges came from, do you?" 

You've had a love for them since you got here and tried them for the first time. Oranges are expensive, and so the palace kitchen has them in abundance. Steve clearly noticed. "Wouldn't you know?" you ask. "Don't you choose his meals?" 

"As if. I'm a glorified cleaning boy," Eddie says. He scoops a bagel covered in cream cheese and fresh cut salmon from a silver tray and takes a big bite. "Just stick around for the food." 

"They won't let him back into the engineers workshop on account of his bad manners, he'll be a dishwasher forever," Robin says grandly, rounding the table to stand on your other side. 

"Says you, lady's maid." 

Robin was supposed to be a lady's maid. Sick gig, good pay, she had all the grades and none of the decorum, but Steve wouldn't let them get rid of her, and after an intense training program that taught her to wield a titanium blade longer than her arm as an extension of it, she was instated as his personal guard instead. They're all job hoppers —Nancy started as a lady's maid but now apprentices as a royal tutor, and her boyfriend worked for the palace's news room but now works under the sous chef. 

You did anything you could to stay alive, and now your full time job is princess, so. You're not judging. 

"What's Nancy's boyfriends name?" you whisper. "Jon?" 

"Jonathan. I don't think anybody calls him Jon," Robin whispers back. 

"She's lying. His name is Gordon." Eddie glares at Robin. "She's trying to trip you up." 

A smack erupts through the air, chased by Steve's pleased whoop. "Yes! Baby, did you see that?" 

"I'm not trying to trip you up," Robin says, "don't listen." 

"She totally is." 

"Baby?" Steve calls, yards away in the bluegrass, a bat held at his side. "Guys, stop harassing her. Jesus." 

"We're not harassing her, Stevie, slow your roll. This is a common social phenomenon called teasing, maybe you've heard of it? You do it with friends," Eddie says, nudging your arm. 

Friends, you think. Steve's looking at you, waiting for confirmation that you're alright. "I didn't see it, Steve. Do it again!" 

Steve immediately jogs backwards, goading Jonathan into pitching another ball. He has a good arm, the ball soaring just right for Steve to curl back and send it wide across the green grass of the garden. It hits a long banner across the way, smack dab on its painted target as he'd aimed for, falling practically on top of the first. 

It's an impressive arc. You clap your hands together and cheer, though the rules of this game escape you. You think it's supposed to be darts without sharp points, but you're more concerned with the lines of Steve's bicep as he rests the bat on his shoulder, his triumphant sun-kissed smile.

"Did you see that one, baby?" Robin asks. 

"He's so impressive, isn't he?" Eddie adds, grinning. 

Steve throws them the bird, his cheeks pink. 

"That's an example of what not to do in a formal setting," Nancy says, her skirt moving like water as she puts her face in her hand, her elbow on her knee. 

"You're getting good at this tutoring stuff," Jonathan says. 

Steve meanders your way to beg a consolation hug (he puts his arm across your shoulder, muttering about mean friends and their unjust jokes). "They're the worst," he mutters, his hair brushing your ear, goosebumps erupting down your arms. 

"I think they're nice," you say. 

He hums in your ear. "You would. Wretched wife." 

[danisbrainrot]

there's something so sacred and special to me about jackie doing misty's makeup in doomscoming. like, she didn't even like her and you'd think she'd be too obsessed with shauna to care about anyone else, but when I remember how sweet she was to misty and it also makes me think. . .

this isn't the only time we see how nice jackie is. we see it when she interacts with shauna throughout the first few episodes, when she pushes van out of the way, and when she tries and comforts allie in the first episode.

it makes me think about the jackieshauna fight, and at the time I understood where shauna was coming from because she was angry and she made some good points, but also. . . she completely misunderstood jackie? like jackie made shauna her whole universe, but shauna for some reason believes jackie wants her in her shadow? in her dreams/hallucinations about jackie she makes her so mean, when that's not how jackie treated her at all?

and this might be me overthinking jackie's character, but I always saw her doing those controlling things (like picking her dress, choosing their dorm colours) as misinterpretations of shauna. like she just thought that's what shauna wanted, so she wanted it. (this might be a stretch, because it's based off my belief that jackie left the cabin and wanted to die because she thought shauna hated her and wanted her gone.)

especially when you think about the fact jackie dreams of shauna in such a sweet way, having shauna give her hot cocoa, make her nice and warm, tell her "you know you're my best friend, right?" and I find it fascinating. they really saw each other in such different ways to how they acted. because i've never really seen shauna treat jackie that way before except for her dying dream sequence.

UGH THIS SHIP BRO.

part of me wonders if I missed stuff about jackie and shauna's characters or if shauna was punishing jackie because she needed to take her guilt over betraying her best friend out on her??

wow, I can't believe how this started as a cute little "jackie was so sweet to misty 🥰" post and then turned into a rant about jackieshauna

anyways, add your opinions and comments. I'm curious what you guys think!