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finding out that like 10+ mutuals of mine unfollowed me because of the ai list before i could explain my side as a non-native english speaker…like it is what it is…but im sad :(

i pretty much learned creative writing from books, shows, and early exposure to wattpad in my pre-teens so my writing style is just an amalgamation of those? didn’t really think my writing would come off as robotic or suspicious. i like repetition (which is common in filipino prose) and metaphors and it’s really just frustrating for someone who just wants to write and have fun

ive also already sent screenshots recently to some people that i used ai checkers on MY OWN writing to prove that it IS my writing but yeah…

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hi besties, i know the issue is currently being resolved but wanted to disclose (for everyone’s assurance) that i do use grammar tools to correct my grammar and make sure i get my point across as a non-english native speaker from southeast asia. so if i write something that’s a bit off, feel free to confront me about it and i’ll try to explain.

also, i do put a lot of effort and heart into fleshing out plots and headcanoning with my partners, aside from actually writing. i just hope how i craft my replies doesn’t diminish that. thank you.

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banning someone and her blue jeans

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THE MAGICIANS (2015) — Mendings, Major and Minor

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“i told myself i was just being polite,” he said, but his voice had dropped a little lower now, rough around the edges. his eyes flicked down to her mouth, then lingered there, like he couldn’t help himself. “walking you up, making sure you got to your room okay...” a quiet beat stretched between them. one heartbeat. then another. “but you and i both know i’ve never been good at lying to you.” his gaze drifted lower...the way her dress clung to her skin. “especially when you’re in a dress like that,” he murmured. “saying shit like that.”

“   and   you   know   how   i   get   you’re   on   top   of   me   and   you   smell   so   fucking   good   .   ”   surely   he   remembers   how   good   their   bodies   used   to   feel   against   each   other   ,   but   she   wouldn’t   mind   reminding   him   .   “   i   mean   ,   why   else   would   you   walk   me   to   my   room   ?   ”   

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once the guard disappeared, samuel tilted his head slightly, guitar still slung over his shoulder, fingers still itching to finish tuning it. but now his focus had shifted. “you do this kind of thing often,” he asked, voice low and amused, “or am i just lucky?” samuel squinted at her. “you're not a journalist, are you?” he added, only half-kidding. “or a pr spy? label sent you to test our backstage security?” still no wristband. no badge. no name. but she didn’t look nervous. she looked like someone who knew how to get what she wanted. and maybe didn’t care what it cost to get there. that made his mouth twitch again. dangerous girls always did. he glanced over his shoulder. stagehands moving around, someone yelling about a busted snare mic, fans outside chanting the band’s name. “c’mon,” he said, nodding toward the green room as he started walking. “if you’re gonna fake-date your way in here, might as well commit. you want something to drink? water, soda, lukewarm beer? it’s a real five-star operation back here.”

savannah was rich and could have every easily just paid for VIP tickets for the concert. any of her friends could have, actually. however, the girls thought it'd be funny to dare savannah to try and pretend to be one of the band members' girlfriend to get backstage. as if savannah didn't grow up with all older brothers and would turn down a dare. so . . . she had marched right up to the security and put on her best panicked expression. had rambled some random story to security about how she had left super late and forgot her VIP lanyard back at her boyfriend's house. her eyes drifted over to the one in question as he approached, smiling at him as if they really were together. savannah hadn't expected it to work at all, but she wasn't about to question it. "see? i'm not same weirdo," she said, stepping past the guard and pressed a twenty into his palm. "for your troubles while you helped me out. thank you for finding him. service here is fucking crazy and none of my calls went through."

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jackson’s hand didn’t leave hers as they pushed through the crowd, but once they made it to the bar, he spun her gently toward him, slipping both arms around her waist. “god, you’re unreal,” he said against her ear, his hands settled low on her back, pulling her flush against him as the music thrummed around them.“you really meant it?” he asked, a little quieter now, like the rest of the world had fallen away. “the ‘i love you so much’ part?” he didn’t wait for the answer. instead, he kissed her. slow and deep, right there in the middle of the bar like no one else existed. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead lightly against hers, catching his breath.

“you’re gonna wreck me tonight, val,” he murmured with a crooked grin, slipping one hand down to her hip. “and i’m not even mad about it.” the bartender passed by, but jackson barely looked. his focus was all on her as he swayed with her to the music, guiding her into a lazy kind of rhythm, like they had all the time in the world. “we’ll order in a sec,” he said, voice low and amused, brushing his mouth against her jaw. “right now i just wanna feel you against me.”

"i just want it to be perfect." she repeated as she kissed him once more. "i love you so much." she leaned back and watched as he waved down the waiter, finishing her own drink. she reached over and played with the hair on the back of his head as he paid, unable to stop herself from touching him. "i fucking love feeling your hands on me. but we can pregame for a little bit."

once the check was settled she stood up, tangling her fingers with his as she started walking towards the bar that he had mentioned. she kept herself close to him, savoring how warm he was. she truly never pictured being this happy with anyone. he was truly the love of her life. as they got closer to the bar the music got louder, tucking herself even closer to them as they began to weave through the crowd of people towards the bar. his closeness brought her so much peace.

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blaire hums low in her throat , lashes fluttering like she’s bored. “bold promise, princeling.” her fingers skate up the inside of his wrist, stopping just before his pulse. “hope you realize i don’t fake it for free. you want those moans? earn them.” a wicked smile. “and if the walls are thin...well, that’s the landlord’s problem, not mine.”

he   chuckles   dryly   .   “   my   mother   already   thinks   i’m   an   embarrassment   so   i   don’t   really   give   a   fuck   what   she   thinks   about   us   .   ”   and   his   dad   ,   well   ...   he   was   six   feet   under   .   his   palm   brushes   over   the   soft   skin   of   her   thigh   ,   digits   drawing   gentle   patterns   .   “   let   her   and   everyone   else   hear   how   loud   you   moan   for   me   .   ”   

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“yeah,” he said, voice lower now. “you weren’t.” his gaze didn’t drop from hers, even though he could feel her trying to read him. it wasn’t like she didn’t already know the answer. of course he missed it. missed her. the hoodie, the bed, the way she used to mumble half-asleep jokes into his chest at 3 a.m. and then deny it the next morning. “you think i forgot?” he asked, and it came out rougher than he meant it to. his hand moved to rub at the back of his neck, a nervous tell he hadn’t outgrown. “you think any of that just… went away?” he leaned back in his chair, trying to get some distance, but it didn’t help, not when she was still looking at him like that. not when his body remembered hers way too well. and definitely not when his jeans were still just a little too tight thanks to the way she’d said suck you off on mic like it was nothing. he laughed under his breath, more self-deprecating than anything. “i invite you in here to talk about ghost stories and failed tinder dates, and you’re out here casually offering to blow up my whole night, and then guilt-tripping me about my last relationship like you didn’t wreck me first.” he meant it lightly. but it was also true. and it hung between them for a beat too long. then, quieter: “you wanna talk about what we miss… or just show me?”

"don't tell me it's not one of the reasons why you love having me around," sylvie giggles, watching as he did his thing. agreeing to do a podcast with him was entertaining, though, really it gave her all the more reason to be around his presence. gasp fell from her lips, "i broke the podcast? excuse me! you're lucky i didn't jump over the table to suck you off on mic," and there she goes speaking out of her mind.. allowing her vivid thoughts to be uttered out loud. maybe she should get better at keeping her mouth shut, but it was so easy with him; everything always been so simple. the way he describes it pulls a smile upon her lips, she loves sleeping in his hoodie, snuggled up in his bed -- it was comfort, it was home. . . he was home. "do you miss it?" a slight curiosity in her tone, her gaze looking up to meet his features; trying to get a read on him. thumbs twiddling together, a nervous habit that she never could really get rid of. she could see the longing in his gaze, the memories replays in her mind, it happens one too many times. "yeah, well i wasn't the one who ended up in a relationship."

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wyatt’s eyes lingered on hers, caught somewhere between amusement and something quieter. her question, do i fit your type?, wasn’t light, not really. and he didn’t treat it like it was. “i don’t think i’ve got a type,” he said after a beat, his voice rough with truth. “but if i did…” he let the rest hang between them, the answer written all over the way he was looking at her. her teasing landed soft in his chest, and for a second it was easy to forget the danger. “you did marry a smart one,” he murmured, his voice low. “and charming. and—” knock knock knock. the sound snapped through the moment like a wire cutting clean. wyatt straightened, his expression shifting as his eyes flicked to the door. “hold that thought,” he muttered. he moved toward the door with quiet caution, every movement deliberate as he sidestepped to the peephole, shoulder brushing the wall. he looked, and blinked. “…it’s mrs. garcia,” he said after a beat, brow lifting as he relaxed just a touch. “from two houses down. she’s holding… a casserole?” he glanced back at lolani, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the spike of adrenaline still fading from his system. “guess word’s getting around about the newlyweds.” he didn’t open the door yet. he just stayed there, watching her for a moment longer. “you okay?”

"do i fit your type?" another loaded question, something she probably should've kept to herself. lolani had a habit of letting curiosity speak before her judgement could catch up. still, the thought had been lingering beneath the surface. would he have even looked at her twice if not for this situation? she caught the way his gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips and back again, and it sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. her breath hitched, "i think i married a smart one with a bit of a sweet tooth," she teased, it had been a few months since she'd felt this kind of closeness. since anyone had looked at her in the way he did. his nearness made her skin prickle with goosebumps, like her body was already answering for her, silently begging for him to just do it, just kiss me already, and then came the knock. a sudden jump scare, startling her enough to lean back against the counter like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't. the moment between them slipping through her fingers as she turned to the sound. "...maybe it's just the neighbor," she mumbled, barely convincing herself but she didn't want to freak out. "we should call agent jones, wyatt"

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grace let out a soft laugh, brushing her hair over one shoulder like she wasn’t already unraveling underneath. “you gonna let her play house too, andrew? or is that just my thing?” she asked, voice lilting like she was just messing with him, even though her eyes were locked on his a little too long. “she looks like the type who gets attached if you so much as hold the door open. you so much as kiss her and she’ll be doodling your initials in the margins of her meeting notes.” her tongue clicked against her teeth, arms folding loosely like she was trying to seem unbothered. “but hey, maybe she’d be better at it than me. probably wouldn’t even ask you to mean it.” that last part slipped out quieter, like she hadn’t meant to say it at all.

"i guess i'm holding out for a catfight," andrew teased, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. the thought clearly amused him more than it should have, images of the two of them tangled up in his apartment made him chuckle under his breath. he stepped behind her in the living room, gaze drifting down her legs as they crossed, admiring the view before finally meeting her eyes with the same lazy, charmed grin. "if she asks, i'll just say we were going over last-minute work things. easiest lie i've ever told," he said, only half-joking. he wouldn't do that to her but he enjoyed how far he could push it. "you don't think she'd mind sharing? she's always been a little too eager to please."

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“okay, wow. you come into my apartment, judge my untouched textbooks, and expect snacks?” he nudged the nearest one with his foot, like it was to blame for the awkwardness lingering in the air. he hated how fast things could go sideways with her, how one wrong word made her pull back like a hand on a stove. and still, here she was. still here. “yeah, well… i was gonna read them. eventually. thought maybe sleeping next to them would help me absorb the knowledge..like samosas or whatever.” he dropped back down beside her. not as close as before, but enough to close the space a little. enough to show he hadn’t checked out. “thing is, i’m a visual learner,” he added, a grin tugging at his mouth. “kinda like how i know you only mess with your rings when you’re overthinking something. or how your smile goes lopsided when you’re actually amused, not just faking it to get me to shut up.” it came out lightly, but part of him meant every word more than he probably should’ve. he wasn’t just watching. he was paying attention. too much, maybe. “see? who needs books?”

“whatever that means…” if jackie thought ethan was confusing before, she’s currently feeling that tenfold. she didn’t understand his motives then, back when he was bleeding from the head and still showing her kindness, and she doesn’t now. can’t work out how the energy changed so damn quickly or why the idea of her being refreshed (also known as no longer about to bite it) bothers him so much. hell, she’s asked multiple times already and he refuses to give a straight answer. what is she expected to do? “who said i was pretending? maybe i’m secretly an avid reader.” she isn’t really, especially not nowadays, but he doesn’t need to know that yet. nothing about her lifestyle allows for that level of relaxation. “apparently, you’re not though... there isn’t a single crack in any of these spines. you do know books are made to be opened, right?”

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okay, well...when you say it like that, it does sound a little dramatic.” he glances over at her, and despite the smirk on his face, there’s something gentler in the way he’s looking at her now. like he’s trying to memorize the moment, just in case it’s the last one that feels like this. “but for the record,” he goes on, nudging her knee one more time, less playful this time, more like he just wants the contact, “i’ve also been around your sparkling personality for years and somehow still like you. so maybe don’t sell yourself short.” he tries to keep it light, keep it safe. but there’s a moment—quick, unguarded, where his eyes catch hers and he can feel the shift in the air. this thing between them, whatever it is, it isn’t a joke. not to him. “you don’t have to say anything, mags,” he adds, quieter now. “not asking for a replay. just… wasn’t the worst thing i’ve ever woken up to. that’s all.” the sudden shift makes him uneasy, so he dismisses it with a wave and a playful ggrin. “could use a little more desperatio though. like...please, luke, ruin our friendship with your mouth again, i can’t go another minute without it.”

“wow. guilt. so that’s what you think would get me there?” he shoots back, voice light. “not your sparkling personality or, you know, sheer magnetism.” he leans back on his hands, his knee bumping hers like it’s just an accident, even though it’s not. “if i didn’t wanna kiss you, maggie, i wouldn’t have.” he glances down at her hand, at the way her fingers curl just slightly into the blanket, and something in his chest twists. he’s not even sure why he said it like that. maybe because the idea that she’s brushing the whole thing off as some act of charity makes his stomach turn a little. “and for the record,” he adds, tilting his head, “i don’t do half-assed. even blackout me has standards.” it earns him a smirk, which is good, because he’s not quite brave enough to tell her the rest. that he’s not sure what last night means either, but he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since he woke up. about her. about whether this really messed everything up, or if maybe it opened some door they’d both been standing next to for years without noticing. instead, he just bumps her knee again and murmurs, quieter now, “but hey. if you ever did wanna remember it, for real this time… i’m just saying. you wouldn’t have to twist my arm.”

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wyatt watched her as she leaned in, the change in her posture, her tone. that sharp edge dulled into something softer, something real. he felt it land somewhere he wasn’t ready to name. so, naturally, he did what he always did when things got too close. he smirked. “oh,” he said, leaning forward to match her, voice dipping back into something easier; that low, slow pull he wore like second skin. “so i’m the reset button now? that’s new. you sure you’re not just addicted to the free drinks?” he let the silence stretch for a beat, then clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “wait. let me guess. it’s not about me. it’s just about the ambience. the lighting. the… what was it again?” his eyes flicked toward her legs, then back to her eyes without apology. “the view.” wyatt tilted his head, smug creeping back in, just enough to be annoying. “i knew it. you’ve been flirting with me this whole time. should’ve trusted my gut.” then, quieter, more genuine. not a backpedal, just a thread of truth beneath the grin: “but for what it’s worth, you being here is kinda going on me. sour tongue and all.”

‘  that’s  the  guy  you  keep  going  back  to?  ‘  it  poked  —  making  one  of  the  corners  of  her  lips  jerk  downward,  lashes  batting  as  the  wires  behind  her  eyes  had  reconnected.  “  is  that  you  observing  or  caring?  “  fully  aware  of  the  push  and  pull  she  experienced  on  a  daily  basis,  enough  that  he  had  possibly  gone  numb  to  the  pattern.  yet,  wyatt  spotted  more  than  enough.  the  dancer’s  finger  ran  around  the  opposite  section  of  the  rim  while  her  eyes  went  down  to  the  liquid  he  prepared,  she  couldn’t  help  but  to  deprived  and  eye  roll  when  he  mentioned  the  act  of  her  possibly  having  disdain  towards  him.  it  wasn’t  that  at  all.  flickering  large  eyes  in  his  direction  when  she  noticed  the  tone  change,  lips  tightening  as  she  attempted  on  a  read  from  the  homme.  not  once  she  did  she  interrupt,  gave  a  glare,  or  any  sort  of  protest  —  kept  her  lips  pressed  with  intent.  mirroring  a  student  during  an  intense  lecture  that  sat  on  the  responsibility  of  their  last  grade.  monica  adjusted  her  posture,  sitting  up  to  where  she  rested  her  forearms  and  leaning  in  the  space.  “  for  starters,  i  have  plenty  places  to  go,  “  she  politely  corrected  in  the  tone  of  stating  a  fact.  "  [  .  .  .  ]  i  wasn't  lying  —  i  do  like  the  view.  i'm  not  being  expected  of  anything  here,  and  it  feels  fresh.  like  a  restart.  "  the  sour  tongue  she  once  used  against  him  was  now  mulled  into  tender  realness.  honest  and  not  out  to  get  him  like  before.  it  was  safe.

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lana huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes as she turned toward the door. “okay, dracula, i’m putting you in charge of vibes, not logistics. i didn’t plan past step outside and stop being tragic in bed.” but her voice caught a little at the end, barely, just enough to notice if you were listening for it. because the truth was, she should have been freaking out more. iggy was a vampire now. a creature out of folklore and nightmares and the weirdest corners of reddit. his eyes glowed, his skin ran cool, and his smile...god, that smile, came with fangs now. but he was still him. still iggy. she hovered near the door, fingers grazing the handle, before glancing back at him, drawn to him the way she always had been, but now with something deeper under her skin. something that twisted when he looked at her like she was still his. like nothing had changed. her gaze lingered on his face. the faint smirk. the dark curls. the kind of boy who made her heart beat like his never would again. “and yeah, alright,” she said, a little softer now. “i’ll tell you about the erotica. but only if you promise not to judge my taste in vampires.” she stepped into the hall, her voice lighter again, but not quite as steady. “though… it might explain why i’ve been dangerously susceptible to tragic bad boys lately.”

as  for  someone  who  found  being  being  in  the  center  with  a  humble  humor  to  be  reduced  to  the  ton  weight  responsibility  of  his  new  life  gave  him  a  great  disconnect.  the  amount  effort  that  came  from  lana  tethered  him  back  —  gave  him  humanity.  or  maybe  she  was  entirely.  he  couldn’t  let  it  go  unnoticed  nor  unappreciated,  and  that  made  her  special.  ranked  high  when  it  came  to  the  strings  of  what  used  to  be  his  beating  heart.  when  she  labeled  it  unfair  his  brow  perked,  the  corner  of  his  lip  still  high  as  he  softly  admired.  “  damn,  i  knew  if  i  became  a  vampire  i  would  be  irresistible.  “  the  full  force  of  iggy’s  comedic  personality  had  bleed  through  —  all  credited  to  his  dearest  friend.  deliberately,  the  vampire  bumped  his  shoulder  into  her  own,  “  who  eats  lasagna  with  no  garlic  in  it?  but  i’m  the  problem.  “  dark  curls  bounced  as  his  laughter  earned  a  shake  of  his  head,  piggy-backing  off  their  dynamic.  iggy's  fingers  ran  over  cold  surface  of  his  chin,  eyes  flickering  down  to  the  playful  look  she  held  when  the  certain  topic  of  writing  spilled,  how  own  lips  parted  to  let  potentially  impulsive  words  fly  but  his  jaw  hinged  back  together  when  she  stood.  the  warm  smile  he  wielded  with  confidence  before  had  melted  into  a  half  smirk,  “  okay,  okay.  you’ve  lured  me  out  of  my  cave,  that  means  you  have  to  pick  what  to  do  with  me  before  the  sun  comes  up.  “  standing  to  his  feet,  iggy  shoved  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of  his  jacket.  “  and  after  all  you’ve  done  for  me,  it’s  not  mine.  it’s  ours.  also  —   you’re  going  to  tell  me  about  that  erotica,  we’re  so  not  glazing  over  that.  “

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“don’t do that,” he muttered, jaw tightening. “don’t make it sound harmless.” his knuckles flexed on the steering wheel, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything else. just the quiet hum of the car, the streetlights slipping past them like seconds ticking out. “you babysit my kid,” he repeated, quieter now. “that’s what it has to do with it. you show up with your books and your snacks and you act like none of this means anything, and now you’re telling me you don’t want to contain it?”

if only he knew that viola was prone to take warnings and transform them into challenges. there's a lot about her that he doesn't know, that she had prevented from letting him - from letting anyone - finding out. "i think looking at you like this is fairly natural, i'm not sure i can change it, unless you want me to contain it..." she chews on her inner cheek, shifting in the passenger seat to face him better. "i also don't have a boyfriend, if that's any...consolation. though, i'm not sure what me babysitting your kid has to do with uh...anything."

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grace doesn’t pull away. if anything, she tilts her chin up, gaze locked on his like she’s daring him to close the distance. “if i wanted out,” she murmurs, her voice softer than it should be, “i wouldn’t be here.” her fingers ghost up his arm, slow and deliberate, like she’s testing the limits of how far they’re willing to go. “but you’re the one asking,” she adds, lips brushing the corner of his mouth now. “so tell me, kai… are you sure you want to do this?”

@lovedrunked . 2/2 ♡

" are you sure you want to do this ? " he's giving her an out, even if it's the last thing he truly wants. but then again something in the flicker of her eyes tells him she's not looking for an out. leans forward, nose brushing against hers as his heart thuds within the confines of his chest. this is wrong, in so many ways, but he's wanted her for so long that the line between right and wrong feels blurred, almost nonexistent tonight.