#AND GETTING DISTRACTED BY EVERYTHING ELSE

[maxinesgun]

i'll keep you warm ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

pairing: jackson!abby x fem!reader

summary: you're in jackson with the salt lake crew, and tensions are high. losing herself in you on a cold night is the perfect way for abby to ease her pent-up worry and agitation.

cw: nsfw, porn with plot, soft dom!abby, tribbing, fingering (r!receiving), boob touching/licking, tense and stressed abby, established relationship, semi-public (?), dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), fluff then smut, reader comforting abby. 3.1k

a/n: there's something about jackson abby... mmm. this is somehow both fluffy and smutty at the same time, which i didn't fully intend, but i think my adoration for her just slipped in lmao. also the longest and possibly filthiest thing i've written so far, soo do with that what you will. enjoy!!

The world outside was a snow globe, a swath of white blanketing towering pines. Dark had fallen, and the wind had started up again, blowing the thick flakes every which way and making it hard even to see the forest beyond. It looked frigid, and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, grateful to be back inside. You were still tired from the journey over here, and it felt like the chill had settled deep into your bones, making everything ache dully. You wanted to be back in Seattle, back where it was familiar. Not this cold, lonely-feeling place—but you knew you were here for a reason.

And the sooner it was over and done with, the better.

You turned from the window when you heard the faint creak of the floorboards, and Abby rounded the corner, exhaustion written across her features. She was tense, had been ever since you’d left home; you could see it in the stiff way she moved, in the way she seemed distracted, often lost in thought. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, and you could guess precisely where that was.

“You’re still up,” she said, slightly out of breath from coming in from outside. There was a light dusting of snow on her coat and hat, and her face was flushed from the cold. You thought she looked like an angel.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You watched her pull off her hat and begin shucking off her coat as she moved further into the room, eyes scanning you briefly as if to make sure you were okay. She was always doing that—always looking out for you even when there was nothing to worry about. It made your chest flicker with warmth. “It looks pretty bad out there.”

“Awful,” Abby confirmed. She ambled over to join you at the window. “Scoped out the area, though. The plan is to head down into the valley. I’m hoping it’ll get us somewhere, at least.”

“We’ll find him,” you said firmly, reassuringly, your voice hushed in the quiet of the room. Everyone else had gone to bed, and it was almost like it was just the two of you out here, in this lonely cabin. It felt intimate. You closed the remaining distance between you, resting a hand on her arm and rubbing it lightly. “We’ve come so far already. Try not to worry about it anymore until tomorrow, ‘kay?”

She puffed a small sigh, and after a pause she nodded, looking back at you. “Yeah,” she murmured. A soft look came into her eyes as she stared at your face for a long moment, gaze lingering over your features in a way that made you want to look away, unexpectedly shy. She brought a hand up to tuck a piece of your hair back behind your ear, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as she did.

You felt heat bloom across your face under her attention, at the tenderness of the touch. You breathed a quiet laugh. “What?”

“Just… glad you’re here.” Abby’s thumb skated across your cheekbone once more before slowly drawing back. She looked like she wanted to say more, but you felt all the meaning of the words, heart swelling in your chest. Before you could say anything, a shiver rippled through you, and her gaze dipped down to where you were clutching your sweater tightly around you. “Are you cold? I’ll get the fire going.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to—” you started, but she was already halfway across the room, striding to the fireplace. She tossed a few logs in and then crouched down in front of it, using a piece of flint and steel to spark a flame. Truly, what had you done to deserve her?

Slowly, you made your way over to the old mattress you’d stationed before the hearth, where your sleeping bags were spread out. You sat, quietly watching her nurse the flames into a steadily blazing fire that filled the room with warmth. Immediately, you felt a bit better as the chill in your bones dissipated.

Your eyes traced over Abby as she worked, a somewhat faraway expression on her face as she stared into the flames. You made no effort to hide the way your gaze lingered indulgently on the veins in her hand as it gripped the fire poker, the flex of her biceps beneath her shirt. It wasn’t something you could help; your admiration for her never lessened, and you still felt a flush of awe each time you stopped to really look at her—which was, needless to say, often.

Still, though, seeing how high her nerves were sent a stab of worry and protectiveness in your gut. You knew how much this meant to her, avenging her father. It had been the sole thing driving her since his death, and now that she was finally so close, the tension and impatience radiating off of her was palpable. You wished you could take it away, carry the burden of it yourself—or, at the very least, ease it for awhile.

Abby set the poker aside and sat beside you on the mattress, grunting a bit with exhaustion as she lowered herself down beside you. She began unlacing her boots, glancing sidelong at you as she did. “Better now?”

You nodded, a soft smile ghosting across your lips. “Much better. Thank you,” you said quietly. When she had kicked her boots off, you closed the space between you, swinging a leg over her to settle in her lap. Your arms laced around her neck, and her hands came up to rest on your thighs instinctively, squeezing them lightly.

“I should be the one asking you if you need anything. You’ve had a long day.” You gave her a light, chaste kiss, and brushed the pad of your thumb over her soft bottom lip. “Are you hungry? I’ll go heat something up for you.”

“I’m fine. I had something before I left,” she told you, her hands rubbing against your thighs languidly. “Don’t worry about me.” She leaned forward to capture your lips in another kiss; this one was deeper, tinged with yearning. You sighed into it, feeling her tongue run along your lip before dipping into your mouth to brush against yours.

When you pulled away, you looked at her earnestly. She was always downplaying her own needs, always insisted on being the one to cater to you. You loved it, of course, but you felt the need to take care of her, too, especially right now. “Let me make you some tea, then.” You made to get up, but her grip on your thighs tightened a bit, pulling you back down against her lap.

Wordlessly, she drew you into another kiss, tongue stroking into your mouth in a hungry way that made you groan. The pure need in it caught you off-guard, stirring the desire in the pit of your stomach so suddenly it was almost startling. “I don’t want tea,” she murmured against your lips when you broke apart for breath. The implications of the words were clear—it was something else that she wanted.

She kissed along your jaw before moving down to your neck, lightly sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. You sucked in a breath as your head tilted a bit to the side, giving her easier access. It was your favourite spot to be kissed, instantly made you dissolve into putty, and she knew it.

Her hands trailed up your thighs and under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they slid over your bare skin. They were calloused and warm, her touch firm as it roamed higher, stopping just under your breasts. Then she tugged lightly at the hem of your shirt. “Take this off,” she ordered, voice firm but still achingly soft, her breath warm against your neck.

You complied almost instantly, the heat pooling south in your abdomen not making you inclined to oppose her. Reaching down, you pulled your sweater up and over your head in one smooth motion, leaving your torso bare but for the lacy lilac bra that Abby loved so much on you. The heat of the crackling fire behind you warmed your exposed skin, keeping the chill from fully getting to you.

Abby pulled back to look at you, her gaze drinking you in as her hands wasted no time moving to undo the clasp of your bra. You could tell she was impatient for this, her eyes dark with lust, her breathing growing heavier as she unhooked your bra and slipped it down your arms a bit clumsily. It sent a sharp stab of desire through you, and suddenly you needed her hands on you, needed to feel them everywhere.

The bra came off, revealing your bare chest, nipples already hard and perky both from the chill and arousal. Abby’s big hands reached to cup them, squeezing them lightly, her thumbs rubbing over your sensitive buds. “So pretty, baby,” she breathed as she scattered kisses along the column of your throat, your shoulders, your collarbone. They trailed down to your chest, and then she took one of your nipples into her mouth, tongue licking and circling over the perky bud. You sucked in a sharp breath, your body arching into her.

“Abby,” you sighed, clutching at her shoulders as she continued nipping and sucking at your chest. The ache of need in your core was growing with every passing second. Even as you glanced nervously toward the dark hallway, your hips shifted against her thighs, seeking stimulation. “We shouldn’t. What if someone…?”

“They’re all asleep by now,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper as she pulled back to look at you. It was only a second before her hands were back on your tits, kneading them—it was safe to say that she couldn’t get enough of them. “But you’re gonna have to keep quiet, yeah? Think you can do that for me?”

You smirked a little at the teasing note in her tone. “I can manage,” you said, a bit shakily. It was clear, from the way you were squirming in her lap and on the verge of panting, that you needed this just as badly as she did. At this point, you were so aroused that you couldn’t even bring yourself to care much about the fact that you weren’t alone here, that your friends were just in the other room. Fuck it—you would just have to hope that nobody walked in.

Abby’s lips quirked up slightly, amused, as she fumbled to undo the button of your pants. She held your gaze as her hand slid past your waistband and between your thighs. You released a shaky breath as she cupped your heat through the soaked-through fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, look at you,” she groaned lowly as she slowly dragged her fingers over you through the thin fabric. “So wet for me already.”

You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping you as your hips rocked into her touch, desperate for more. You were already aching for her, and her voice, silky and breathless in a way that betrayed her own arousal, certainly wasn’t helping.

She began a slow rhythm, stroking you firmly in a way that had the pleasure climbing steadily. Her hand was angled just right, the heel of her palm pressing right into your clit, and you were fighting back whimpers as it sent shocks of heat through you. As she worked you, her lips found your neck once again, biting and sucking soft skin that would surely bruise tomorrow. You always pretended to be exasperated at having to hide the hickeys she gave you, but in truth, it sent a little thrill through you whenever you caught someone eyeing your neck, the proof that she’d been all over you.

Your head was bent against her shoulder, your faltering breaths and tiny sounds of pleasure muffled against her shirt as you angled your hips to grind your clit harder into her palm. It was getting harder to keep control of yourself, and as you felt the wave of heat begin to rise, your grip on Abby’s arm tightened. Her bicep was solid and muscled beneath your grip.

“Mmph—Abby,” you panted, eyes squeezed shut in barely contained pleasure. “M’not gonna last much longer.”

With those words, it was like her last bit of restraint snapped. Suddenly she was hoisting you up by your thighs, shifting you from her lap to the mattress and pushing you down beneath her with more force than you were expecting, a little “oof” puffing from your lips. She leaned over you and began tugging your pants and underwear down your legs eagerly, making quick work of them. You lifted your hips a bit to help her, and watched with hazy, half-lidded eyes as she got them off and tossed them aside before immediately starting on her own, shoving them down her hips.

It was nothing like the way things usually went between you; nothing like the times she would tease you, drawing out your need until you were practically begging her to fuck you, all while murmuring encouraging words in your ear. This was different—this was pure, carnal lust, itching desperation, and your entire body was burning with arousal at the rough way she was handling you.

You were whimpering with anticipation, your thighs almost trembling with it, in the few moments it took for Abby to get her own pants off. You were completely naked as you lay splayed out across the sleeping bags, but no longer felt the least bit cold, not when Abby covered your body with her own, those big arms braced on either side of your head and her weight pressing you into the mattress below.

She grasped one of your legs and hiked it up sharply as she straddled you, slotting your thighs together perfectly. When you came together, her slick heat sliding wetly against your own, you couldn’t hold back the moan that rasped from your throat as the pleasure slammed into you all at once. Abby muttered a curse in your ear, only pausing for a second to breathe heavily before beginning to move. She gave a firm rock of her hips, and then another, grinding her throbbing pussy against yours and wrenching more sweet moans out of you.

“Shhh,” Abby hushed softly after you uttered a particularly dirty sound that bordered on too loud, her breath warm against the side of your face. Her own breaths were faltering as she kept up her rhythm, not stopping for a second. “Gotta be—mph—quiet, baby. Said you would, remember?”

You bit your lip hard, making a controlled effort to reign in the sounds of pleasure that were threatening to escape at the feel of her rubbing up against your aching clit. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together and your combined panting was all that you could hear in the quiet of the room. Every so often, a low, strangled groan would rumble from Abby’s throat when she wasn’t able to stifle it, her jaw clenched, the space between her eyebrows scrunching in pleasure.

Each movement sent a fresh wave of heat pulsing through you, and Abby’s pace was relentless. She let out a growl, her grip on your thigh tightening as she angled her hips to grind into you even harder. Her hips pushed you into the mattress, now thrusting into you with abandon.

“That’s it, fuck—so good for me, baby.” Her breaths were coming hard and fast, her face hovering close to yours as her eyes roved over you, taking in your blissed-out expression. Your eyes were dropped shut, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt so tightly your knuckles were white. You were rocking up into her weakly, but you could hardly do much with all of Abby’s strength on top of you, controlling the movement.

“So pretty when I fuck you like this,” she huffed. “You like it, yeah? Like it when I fuck this pretty pussy? Fuck.”

You just managed a weak nod in response, unable to even grasp the thoughts to form words in the midst of what you were feeling. The tug of heat in your abdomen was pulsing stronger and stronger; you could feel yourself unraveling. Whimpers had started to spill out of you, your body tensing as you neared release.

“Gonna come? Gonna show me how fuckin’ good it feels, huh?” she panted roughly, moving faster as she saw that you were right on the precipice, mouth hung agape, eyes clenched shut, head thrown back. “C’mon, give it to me.”

When you came, your orgasm crashed into you so hard that Abby had to quickly cover your mouth with a hand to muffle the cry you let out as your body jerked underneath her. She moaned, seeing the intensity of your pleasure clearly driving her closer to the edge as well. “That’s my—haah—s’my good girl.” She uncovered your mouth again and watched it wash over you, the aftershocks rolling through you at Abby’s continued thrusts. A few moments later she grunted, and you felt her reach her own peak, her pussy clenching against you, her hips stuttering as she came.

Together, you came down from your high. Abby dropped your leg as she slowed to a stop, her body slumping forward slightly into you for a few moments as she panted into the crook of your neck. You tilted your head to rest your cheek against the side of her face, the sound of your heavy breaths mingling with hers. A small grin tugged at your lips as a wonderfully light and floaty feeling washed over you, and you ran your hands languidly over her muscled back, the slope of her shoulders.

Abby pressed a soft kiss to your skin before rolling off you and onto the mattress beside you, relaxing into it with a sigh. She was still catching her breath, her eyes closed, and you just stared at her for a few beats, glad to see the serene expression on her pretty face. You wished it could stay that way.

After getting up and slowly pulling your clothes back on, you settled beside her again. She looked at you, raising her arm up expectantly in a gesture that invited you to come closer.

“C’mere,” she murmured, and you did, nestling against her and resting your head on her chest. You breathed in the familiar scent of the pine soap she used, listened to the beating of her heart next to your ear. It was utterly quiet now, peaceful, and you began to give in to the call of sleep. You felt Abby’s light touch rubbing soothing circles against your torso, lulling your eyes closed.

“Love you." Her voice was a hushed whisper in the dark.

“Love you, Abs.”

[starry-bi-sky]

yall ever think Shen Yuan went through like, internet withdrawal after being transmigrated into Shen Qingqiu? Like, he's canonically a NEET shut-in who did nothing but spend his time online, you can't tell me that for the first week or first few weeks of being SQQ he wasn't twitchy.

Like, reaching instinctively to his pockets for a phone that wasn't there, having an obsessive itch in the back of his mind that he should check and see if X or Y novel or webcomic has updated -- only to realize he can't anymore and being irritated by it. Wanting to go and see if there's new posts about this or that, but again realizing that he can't.

When he's bored or uncomfortable or just feels like wanting to escape he tries to go for his phone to distract himself, but oops! Not there anymore, and now he has to find a new and different way to distract himself from his feelings. And going through system notifications, quests, etc only does so much.

And there's that Tetris Effect too. SQQ makes a mistake while writing and instinctively goes to backspace on it except hey-ho that's not a keyboard and now he just dipped his pinkie into a bottle of ink or on a still-drying letter.

With him scrambling to fix his reputation and learn how to be a peak lord, I think his abrupt cold-turkey from all things internet would just be another straw on the camel's back that he promptly Ignores until it goes away on its own after he acclimates to his new surroundings.

[klinefelterrible]

sooo I’m doing it for @k-kizkhalifa :} Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

There are times when I daydream a lot about a certain idea, like for example about the one about pairing Ron with Blaise, but mostly it’s just a Boom! and if I don’t write it now, it’s dead and gone.

Where do you get your fic ideas?

I imagine my (as in “original but in my way” or headcanonly or au) characters during certain activities (mostly: fucking) and I add something or someone extra, or I set the scene right before or after - as it comes to me.

Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

I rarely have a big idea that is different than a shortie I am writing or wrote already, but in my head it’s like once I say it, it’s done and gone - so sharing is equal to abandoning it most likely forever

How do you choose which fics to write?

Since I don’t understand the question really I will try answering how I feel it: I choose just by how I feel about right now. When I think of Eomer, I write about Eomer. As simple as that.

How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for?

GURL YOU NOT READY!

I have many wips, mostly of HP wizarding world, and probably sometime soon I will release another chapter of two halves of Draco’s broken wand and my favourite pairing there is Draco/Bill Weasley and Fred/George/Hermione and since it’s me, it’s going to be juicy as fuck. Literally.

What’s the last line you wrote?

“He’s a cuckoo”

Post a snippet from a wip.

Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

Draco is being blackmailed and fucked by Bill Weasley

Does this word [chosen by asker] appear in your current wip?

Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

M u l t i p l e

Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

I truly have no idea what I’m doing

Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them?

It depends. For Lucy I invented a whole new interest and branch of magical creatures for Lucius to be interested in and for the moment I was even sad that I am doing all this work to finish it with some porn scene.

Do you listen to music while you write? If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

Rarely as I am bilingual and most of the music I listen to is English so I get distracted very easily

What is your favorite location and position to write in?

Any. Sometimes I park my car on my driveway and just START WRITING

What’s your favorite time to write?

Any. No particular favourite time. But I don’t like meal time to use on writing if I really must differentiate between this or that

Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

99% phone.

Do you have a writing routine?

I barely have any routines!

Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

Research yes, sometimes a lot! But for a fic? They don’t require much researching… maybe just checking if I remember something correctly or not.

Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters?

I like creating OCs based on characters from other fiction and I am not ashamed at all.

Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

Asking that a guy who writes hardcore gay porn from Wizarding World…

Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

Why not both at once?

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

I hate titling!

Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

I never know how to end stuff. Ever. Anything. I have to force myself to shut the fuck up.

How do you choose whose POV to write in?

I don’t like POVs

What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

The part when I am just a finger that clicks and my subconsciousness does everything else.

What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

Making sure it all makes sense! Fuck. That!

What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Area of writing? As in I AM A DIALOGUE MASTER and a little bitch for remembering what the fuck did I start with

What area of writing do you want to improve in?

I won’t improve in remembering so maybe I can start making sense more…?

What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

I can make literally anything about gay men crossdressing or women wearing high heels and sometimes I can even make them sassy. I am not proud of myself at all so whatever

How much do you edit your fics? Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

Wips are being edited hard, especially longshots. I write, I stop, I edit two weeks later, I write and so on and it all depends on my mood.

Do you use a beta reader/editor?

Only for bigger or more serious projects and even then extremely rarely because I don’t know anyone that committed to my writing or weird enough and with so much free time

Do you take fic requests? Why or why not?

I WOULD TAKE REQUESTS ANYTIME BUT BEAR IN MIND THAT I AM NOT VERY GOOD AND YOU WILL SUFFER A LOT OF GAYNESS AND WEIRD SEX IN THEM, hit me up only if you’re ready for some hardcore porn or smut or sass

Is there a specific word count that you hold yourself to/enjoy writing the most?

I never think of that

How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

Barely anything other than sass and heels and my own stupidity

What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

I am currently a fan of my short incorrect quotes, it’s my most recent and most read work on ao3.

What fic are you proudest of?

Two Halves of Draco’s broken wand maybe?

What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

WHAT IS WIP IS A WIP BECAUSE IT IS HARD FOR SOME REASON

What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

Everyone would want a friend like you

What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

all of them :>

What is your favorite world that you’ve created for a fic?

I honestly have no clue!

Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

From a fic? I enjoy writing young Narcissa, but frankly speaking I loved writing young Lucius and adult Draco.

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

I hate titling! Next question!

Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

Next question!

What is your favorite genre to write?

Genre… as in dialogue-based fantasy weirdness?

What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

PORN

If you could only write one type of AU for the rest of your life, what would it be?

one type as in the one where guys that canonically don’t fuck all of the sudden do?

Is there a trope that you’ve written before but are now sick of?

naaah

Who is your favorite character to write for? Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

my most favourite of all times character is Sam Vimes but I don’t want to write ff about him really that much

What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

oh geez if you really need to think of me as a writer, please don’t read my fanfics EVER, I am writing them for fun and for fun only

How would you describe your writing style?

Funny, weird and sometimes even full of meaningful connections between the characters

Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

I try to be as good as my favourite writers!

What’s the average word count of your fics?

as me if I care about the numbers again and I will start telling random things

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

maybe… blow jobs? High heels?

What’s the fandom/pairing distribution of your posted fics?

Harry/Draco!

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

well yeah, blowjobs, denial, high heels, netorare, crossdressing, getting convinced, girls knowing and getting what they want… stuff like that

Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

If I had, they’d be done already

How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

I have no idea. Next!

Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

No idea. Next!

Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges? If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them?

not yet! I plan on getting at drarry in january 2025!

Arethere any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

The only fics that ever influenced me to write anyhow were Guarding Dark and some other fic about Sphene/Zeiat from but it was about writing more, not how

What are your favorite fics at the moment?

previously mentioned Guarding Dark, about death of Sam Vimes and dwarvish mine sign that happened afterwards. A very good fic, really a small treasure.

Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?

no… I am a terrible subscription reader, I never have time and I always postpone to the point I hate myself

Do you spend more time reading or writing?

lately writing, but it’s a wave

What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

that someone read my book/story/fic and loved it or that it resonated with them somehow

What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

that it is funny I guess

Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

yeah all the shorties that got little to no hearts on tumblr, it’s always that longer one that someone didn’t read whole I presume… if it’s long I had an idea! Not always a good one, but long idea anyway

Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

yeah my collection of those shortest fics is currently my most read anything on ao3 like wtf

How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

there is no external pressure but internally I am in a constant state of chaos so I really have no idea what I’m doing. Sometimes I feel pressure, sometimes I don’t.

Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

are you kidding me? It makes me happy, it makes other people happy and it’s an act of creation so naturally I enjoy that. Also that bitch jkr did nothing to make them more interesting so I had to make a stand for them

What motivates you during the writing process?

a thought that “this will be fun”

Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

just write anytime you feel like writing, if you don’t have an idea for a name or some other detail, simply put [name] or [detail] and continue and it will clarify later if the character is Clark Bones, an architect who likes tomatoes or a Roan Desmond Ruttington, a gardener who killed his mother’s lover when he was twelve and noone ever found out; never let yourself stumble on some minor details and change major things AFTER you write an entire chapters or bigger parts, really, you will thank me later. Also if you write sex, please please please remember that fucking is a machine-like activity and courting and talking about it must be witty, with a good taste and if not that, at least dont be gross and remember that there is nothing less fun than gross AND boring sex scenes.

Thank you, Kiz!

Fanfiction Writing Asks

Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

Where do you get your fic ideas?

Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

How do you choose which fics to write?

How many wips do you have?  What fandoms/pairings are they for?

What’s the last line you wrote?

Post a snippet from a wip.

Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

Does this word [chosen by asker] appear in your current wip?

Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

Do you listen to music while you write?  If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

What is your favorite location and position to write in?

What’s your favorite time to write?

Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

Do you have a writing routine?

Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?

Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters?

Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process?  How do you come up with titles?

Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

How do you choose whose POV to write in?

What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

What area of writing do you want to improve in?

What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

How much do you edit your fics?  Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

Do you use a beta reader/editor?

Do you take fic requests?  Why or why not?

Is there a specific word count that you hold yourself to/enjoy writing the most?

How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

What fic are you proudest of?

What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

What is your favorite world that you’ve created for a fic?

Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

What is your favorite genre to write?

What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

If you could only write one type of AU for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Is there a trope that you’ve written before but are now sick of?

Who is your favorite character to write for?  Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

How would you describe your writing style?

Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

What’s the average word count of your fics?

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

What’s the fandom/pairing distribution of your posted fics?

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges?  If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them?

In [insert fic], what inspired the idea for the plot?

In [insert fic], what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

In [insert fic], is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included?  Why did it get cut?

What was the hardest part of writing [insert fic]?

If you rewrote [insert fic] now, would you change anything?

If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would happen in it?

What’s a fun fact about [insert fic]?

If a fic was titled [insert made up title], what would this story be about/how would you write it?

Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

What are your favorite fics at the moment?

Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?

Do you spend more time reading or writing?

What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

What motivates you during the writing process?

Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

Free space - asker can come up with any writing or fic-related question they want!

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: sub!nerd!Mark x Dom!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Jerking him off. Oral. Slight edging. I'm like a broken record when it comes to writing about sucking Mark off, my b <3

| wc: 2.3k

Sometimes the best way for Mark to study was with an incentive system— A way for him to earn rewards if he did his work. He had a habit of getting disinterested in his work easily because you were a fantastic distraction from his textbooks, even if you weren’t doing a single thing aside from lounging on the couch in pajamas. Mark just… he couldn’t care less about anything else whenever you were around. You were his everything. But to you, his studies should have been his everything because he was so close to getting his master’s, it was stupid of him to throw that all away just because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So you figured out when finals season approached and Mark was constantly throwing his work to the side to make out with you that if you gave him rewards for studying, Mark was eager to speed through his flashcards, textbooks, homework, and so on.

“When you’re done with your lab report, I’ll blow you.”

“When you’ve reviewed your final draft for your philosophy essay, you can kiss me.”

“Once you make your own comment on the assignment of the week, I’ll sit on your lap while you reply to two of your classmates’ comments.”

Mark had always been a good student, but somehow his grades were doing even better ever since you started the incentive idea. You were having to slow him down and stall on his rewards because, like a dog in training, he figured out that if he was a good student then you would touch him, so he was doing too much at once just for the chance to get your mouth on his cock, or even the opportunity to be inside of you. Usually he only got to fuck you after big projects worth about 20% of his grade… But since it was finals season, Mark was more worked up than usual, and he was incredibly stressed, so he was eager for more and more and more—

“I can’t keep doing this, baby, I’m too tired,” he whined, hiding his face in his hands before diving face-first against his open textbook. “If I have to read one more thing about how arteries work, I’m going to start tearing my hair out. Like, who doesn’t know this already! Why do I have to read seven chapters about bullshit I learned in high school!”

“How much more do you have left?” you asked, setting your phone to the side and sitting up on the couch.

“Two more chapters.”

“That’s nothing,” you whined back mockingly.

Mark lifted his head so that he could show you his pouting bottom lip and those big puppy-dog eyes behind his glasses. Why did you have to fall in love with a hot nerd, huh? A nerd would have sufficed. Or a hot jock. But a hot nerd was your kryptonite, and even though you knew he was baiting you to get what he wanted, there was no denying that he was irresistible when he was wearing his glasses, his hair long was a mess, and his pajamas were shifting around just enough to let you see the outline of his abs under his shirt and his cock in his pants. Ugh, he knew how to get you.

“Finish this chapter first,” you said, hoping to buy yourself some time.

Mark perked up thanks to the mysterious hope you’d provided him. His eyes began scanning the chapter at the normal, quick pace you were familiar with when he wasn’t protesting the idea of studying; and in the meantime, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked towards Mark. He hesitated briefly, but his gaze didn’t leave the textbook. He warily flipped the page, revealing that he was on the last few paragraphs before the next chapter. You watched over his shoulder to put some pressure on him to actually read and not just fuck around because even though you weren’t a nerd like him, you’d learned enough during his “rewards” to catch on whenever he was lying about doing his work just to get what he wanted.

“Done,” he cheered victoriously.

“How long’s the next chapter?”

Mark flipped a few pages in search of the chapter he didn’t have to read for homework. Six pages later, he found it and pointed.

“You think you can last ‘til then?”

Mark looked confused. “For what?”

With a wicked grin, you dropped down to your knees then crawled under the dining room table where Mark had set up shop with all of his study material in preparation for finals. You were having to eat meals on the couch since there was no room at the table anymore.

“Read the chapter aloud so I know you’re not lying,” you told him casually as you pried his knees apart to make room for yourself to settle between his legs. Mark leaned back so that he could watch you for a moment. “Don’t lose track of your spot either.”

As you grabbed the hem of his pajama pants, Mark aided your attempt to undress him by lifting his hips so that you could pull the fabric down, then he resettled on the wooden chair. Mark wasn’t unfamiliar with being naked on that chair— You liked to tie his hands behind his back and have him sit on that chair while you rode him until his head was spinning and he couldn’t get out a single word.

When you wrapped your hand around his length, Mark gulped, but he remembered what you wanted him to do in order to earn his reward, so he leaned forward again to put his focus on the last chapter of the night. You didn’t do anything to distract him for a bit. Despite his growing eagerness as shown by his hardening cock in your hand, you didn’t move or do something new— So Mark began reading the chapter aloud. Honestly, you weren’t paying attention. A lot of the science shit he studied went over your head, so even though you heard the words and learned a thing or two here and there, you never really… absorbed everything like he did…

Mark concentrated on the words in front of him, and as he began the next paragraph, that was when you began slowly pumping your hand up and down his long dick. He moaned suddenly. His ability to keep reading coherently faded, so you stopped your motions. Mark immediately bucked his hips upward to encourage you to keep going, but so long as he wasn’t studying, you weren’t going to give him his reward. When he recuperated, Mark slowly started reading again… You took a moment to believe him that he was actually ready, then you continued when you were doing. Mark moaned, but before you could stop again, he raced to keep reading at a faster pace, likely in the hopes that you would put him in your mouth or ride him, or let him fuck you…

Your tongue flicked Mark’s tip suddenly. The words of the textbook got caught in his throat, and within an instant he was leaning back to look down at you, his glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. You stopped to look up at him. He whined at the lack of stimulation, but you grinned while cocking your head to the side, waiting for him to say something, to admit that he wanted more, or perhaps he would silently return to his work. In fact, that was what he did. He read the next line casually to give you time to get back to what you were doing. Two lines later, you caught him off guard by sucking him off again, your tongue swirling around his tip, your fingers playing with his base and even teasing his balls a bit to really get him worked up.

The third page turn marked him reaching the halfway point of the chapter without any more issues. He did his best to ignore you so that he could focus on his work, despite the fact that you were slowly working his cock towards an orgasm which you didn’t plan on giving him quite yet. He knew that. He read as fast as he could in order to complete the assignment sooner, but every time he fucked up a word or lost his place in the paragraphs, you paused to give him a chance to figure out how to reset. Unfortunately, whenever you stopped, you also edged him. He hated that. But you loved how cute he sounded when he was all submissive and desperate.

By the fifth page, Mark was losing it. He was stuttering through every word, moaning between sentences, begging for more at the end of paragraphs. You tried to show him a little bit of mercy by going slower so that you didn’t have to edge him as often, but even that couldn’t really help Mark. Poor thing. Before you, he didn’t have a lot of experience— A personal choice until he met you. He’d only kissed a guy, some friend of his, and one girl in middle school; and he fully intended on never thinking about dating again until after his PhD when he could think about getting married. However, he saw you in his ethics class, a required course which he was less than excited to be attending instead of the courses required for his master’s degree, and once he laid eyes on you, he knew that he had to have you, but there was one thing in his way. He definitely didn’t deserve you. The fact that you were so gorgeous and perfect and amazing and— Mark couldn’t believe that someone like you would look twice in his direction. What he failed to recognize, though, was that he was actually way out of your league, according to you, so you couldn’t believe that someone as handsome as Mark Lee would even glance at you.

Now there the two of you were, moved in together, happily dating, supporting each other through your degrees, and even teasing the idea of marriage whenever Mark got really sappy during cuddle-time late at night. His experience obviously grew in that time too. Mark liked to experiment with his sexuality, and that led him to discovering that he liked being submissive from time to time, especially when it came to things like rewards and punishments— Having structure in his life provided by someone else gave him comfort.

“Can I cum?” he asked suddenly.

You pulled off of him.

“Wait, wait, please, don’t stop—”

“You have to finish the chapter first.”

Mark shuddered. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I believe in you, baby.”

He swallowed a moan then continued reading. Something, something, arteries, something, something, blood, something— “I’m close! No, no, no…” His knuckles turned white as his fists tightened when you edged him again. Something, something… Nutrients… Something… Hormones… “Okay, I’m done, I finished, please!”

Sitting up on your knees slightly, you were able to angle yourself better to sink your mouth down over his tip while your hand continued to jerk off the first few inches down at his base. Mark grabbed your hair to hold onto something for balance. He didn’t push you down or buck upwards. He just let you take the lead while he used you to keep himself sane. Slowly, you swallowed every inch until there was no more room for your hand, and you could feel him tickling the back of your throat, which was uncomfortable just enough to cause you to go back up. Mark moaned with relief. Feeling your cheeks hollow out, your tongue dragging along his length, and your saliva coating every inch of him made his eyes roll behind those handsome glasses of his.

“Can I cum?” he begged desperately.

“Yeah,” you mumbled before sinking back down.

Mark squirmed, his tip hitting the inside of your wet cheek, then he thrusted upwards until he hit the back of your throat again, and even though you gagged a bit, he moaned and started cumming. He panted breathlessly through it. There wasn’t a lot since you’d drained him throughout the past couple of days, but the orgasm was strong enough that he threw his head back and clenched his thighs around your shoulders.

“F-feels so good… Fuck… Thank you… Thank you…”

As his orgasm passed, he slumped in the chair. You allowed him a minute to catch his breath while you also used that time to swallow every drop he gave you while also trying to regain your composure.

“Fuck, I’ve got a headache now.” Mark reached to help you to your feet.

You kissed his forehead. “Take a break from studying, then, we’ll get some rest for a bit.” You continued to hold his hands as you pulled him to his feet too then calmly led him to the bedroom. Mark crashed on the bed in an instant. “Gotta take these off first, babe.” You carefully slid his glasses off his face and set them on his bedside table. “There you go.”

Mark grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him to cuddle close and nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck lovingly. “Do you think I’m going to pass my bio exam?”

“You’re studying more often than not, so, yes.”

He chuckled. “You’re biased.”

“Then why’d you ask me, silly?”

Mark squeezed you tight and rolled over so that you were laying beside him, giving you ample room to squeeze him back. “Thank you,” he said. “You’ve helped me a lot this semester.”

You kissed the top of his head and played with the end of his long hair that laid against the back of his neck. “Any time.”

taglist: @theycallmesya @henderysposts @trash-number-one @botchedbrat @n0hyuck

@topmoondanse @shoetaroshoe @faeryus @junrenjun @october-saturn

@colorfulbunnyofcttn @jeongjaeleftbicep @g-bizz @highhjime @userntfnd

@gabbanagold @k44mii @scoobysnackszoo @babyjenono @i2608s

@daryaa8a @funnyvxlentine @crazylittlebisexual @armaegddn

[hoe4hotchner]

Hi!! If you still take requests could I request Hotch helping a fellow bau member after she tried to hide her ocd from him (like intrusive thoughts, counting and blinking hard etc not cleaning or contamination ocd)

Thanks! xoxo 🧡🧡

Blink twice, tap four times, hold your breath and count to six | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!gn!Reader | WC: 0.5k  | CW: OCD | Summary: Hotch reasures reader when he notices their OCD being a little more frequent than usual |

You were certain you’d been subtle about it, always careful to keep your mind’s demands invisible. Blinking patterns, counting in repetitive loops, moving your fingers until they felt “right” — these things were all in the quiet spaces, hidden behind closed doors and the shuffle of paperwork. Or so you thought.

But Hotch was observant, maybe too observant for your own good. It started with small things: his brow creasing when you tapped your fingers on the table during briefings, his quiet gaze following when you seemed lost in thought, counting silently to bring calm. You brushed it off, certain he was just being his usual analytical self, until the day his concern broke through the usual boundaries he had set for himself.

It was late, everyone else had gone home for the night. You’d been poring over files, a trail of cold coffee cups beside you, trying to distract yourself from the prickling anxiety that had settled in your mind since a particularly tough case. Then it happened again — blink twice, tap four times, hold your breath and count to six, over and over. You weren’t sure how long you’d been repeating it, but when you looked up, Hotch was standing in the doorway to the conference room — You sometimes worked on your files in there to keep your mind on track.

“Can I come in?” he asked gently.

You cleared your throat, swallowing the reflexive answer to brush him off. “Of course.”

He entered, closing the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. You half-expected a reprimand, a reminder to go home and rest, but his gaze was unusually soft, something between empathy and understanding.

“I noticed you’ve been… distracted lately,” he began, his words careful. “More than usual.”

The confession sat on the edge of your tongue, bitter and unwelcome. “It’s nothing. I just get… caught up sometimes.”

He nodded slowly as if weighing your answer. “We all have our patterns,” he said, his voice low and calm. “But if they’re weighing on you, you don’t have to hide them. Not from me.”

The words caught you off-guard. Your heart pounded, the intrusive thoughts flaring up in response to his kindness, an immediate discomfort in your chest at the vulnerability.

“Hotch, I don’t want anyone to think… that I can’t handle this.” The admission tumbled out, quieter than you’d intended. “Sometimes, my brain… it gets stuck in loops. It makes me repeat things to feel okay.”

He nodded as though he’d known it all along. “You’re one of the most resilient agents I know. But you don’t have to manage all of this alone.” He took a seat beside you, close enough that you could feel his presence. “If something is weighing on you, I want you to tell me. I can help.”

There was a soothing rhythm to his words, one that almost matched the way you counted, but softer and kinder. You swallowed, fighting the wave of embarrassment that rose at the idea of admitting everything. But his hand, warm and steady, rested on yours.

“I don’t think less of you,” he continued his voice barely a murmur. “In fact, I have more respect for you than you realize. What you’re dealing with doesn’t make you weak — it shows your strength.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words settle in your mind like stones sinking to the bottom of a pond.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words carrying all the gratitude you hadn’t known you were holding.

[mj0702]

Secrets

Something different than the usual...

“Amor... Estic a casa!” Alexia said loudly as she pushed the door shut with her foot her arms full with groceries

“I'm just saying Jenni...” you said hoping no one heard your girlfriend in the first place

“.... qué??” Jenni said confused but the little flicker of your eyes didn't go past her “... todo bien?”

“Sí... bien” you said quickly directing your attention back to the screen

“Vale....” your best friend chuckled knowing exactly why you were distracted for a split second “... so you wanted to answer some questions sí?”

“Sí.... let's have a look...” you said scanning through the questions fans send in while Jenni and you yapped about anything and everything a few minutes before

“I like this one...” Jenni smirked “... what got you to move to Spain?”

“What got you to move to Spain?” you repeated confused and distracted as you watched Alexia padding through the living room bare feet

“TU... no yo” the Madrista rolled her eyes still smirking

“Sí... yo” you mumbled your eyes following your girlfriend who just started to put away the groceries

“Ay.... Ojos en la pantalla....” Jenni snapping her fingers in front of the camera trying to get your attention

“Lo lamento” you mumbled your eyes quickly moved to the screen again getting greeted with your best friend grinning wolfish “What was the question?”

“What made you move to Spain” the dark haired snorted

“Ehrm... I mean.. when Barcelona knocks on your door... you don't really throw that door shut in their faces” you rambled

“Oh come on... lame” Jenni rolled her eyes

“What... that's what made me move to Spain” you said bewildered

“I was the reason you moved to Spain” Jennis smirk widened

“You were the reason I nearly didn't accept the deal” you shot back

“Puta” your best friend snorted “.... stop lying”

“Well... we DID share a flat in France...” you grinned “... you're imposible to live with”

“¿¿disculpe?!?” your best friend exclaimed her hand over her heart “WHO brought you into hospital when you decided that the 7 week old yoghurt was STILL good to eat”

“Kurvetino” you grumbled blushing and the swear word made Alexia look over from the kitchen “... and WHO always walked through the apartment naked? And I mean NAKED”

“Yeah well...” Jenni grinned again “... I mean... look at me... who wouldn't...”

“My PARENTS saw your....” you started but then shut your mouth quickly “... next question”

“Vale... how did you two meet?” your best friend read of the screen “... I came to play for PSG and they made me share a flat with her because no one else wanted to”

“Puta... that's NOT how it went” you exclaimed annoyed “... they ASKED me if I could show the spaniard around and maybe teach her basic French... I had nothing better to do so I said yes.... next thing I knew was her climbing into my bed in the middle of the night complaining how cold it was”

“It is cold in France” Jenni pointed out not denying the rest

“It was summer” you rolled your eyes

“Still... I need warm temperatures” your best friend said

“You LITERALLY complained yesterday on Instagram that it was “too hot for 9.30”....” you looked at her expectantly

“I'm...” Jenni started as delicate fingers grabbed your chin turning your head and you felt soft lips on yours making you completely freeze

“Vaig dir que sóc a casa Amor” Alexia mumbled against your lips after she ended the sweet kiss

“I'm...” you pointed at the screen where suddenly the comment section exploded

“Oh please... it's just Jenni” your girlfriend snorted

“... and around 9.000 fans watching our little Live session” you murmured not daring to look back at the screen seeing how the eyes of your girlfriend got big

“Well...” the blonde was at loss for words

“Don't worry Chica...” Jenni now snorted “... I saw way more of you two than a kiss... I once...”

“Callarse la boca!!!” you interrupted your best friend quickly already knowing how her mind works

“Looks like you just confirmed all the rumours that floated around you two for a while now” your best friend smirked

“Well... no point in denying it now is there...” you rolled your eyes at the smug look on Jennis face

“Next question” the dark haired sing songed while your girlfriend still stood a little off screen rooted in her place her face a blank look of horror “How long have you been dating Ale... uh uh uh... I know the answer... I know the answer!!”

“But obviously no one cares about you since the question was directed to me” you huffed “... a little bit over 9 Month now...”

“... aaaaafter...” your best friend pushed

“After Jenni Hermoso introduced us at the Ballon d'Or.... her words were “This is mi Amiga Alexia... Alexia this is y/n... she doesn't speak a word spanish... teach her” and gone she was” you grumbled

“And oh she did” Jenni laughed “Was looking for you all morning the next day”

“NOTHING happened okay... you left me stranded you Kurvetino” you exclaimed and suddenly your girlfriend rebooted herself pushing you out of the frame

“I swear Jenni Hermoso... if you still gloat about the fact that you were the reason we ended up together – you are not” Alexia said

“But I am...” your best friend huffed “... you would never had the balls to talk to her if it wasn't for me”

“I was just waiting for the perfect timing” your girlfriend exclaimed while you try to find your balance

“I provide perfectivity” Jenni smirked proudly “... I'm your perfect timing”

“Bas si gnjavator” you mumbled appearing on screen again

“Sí... I am” your best friend smile even more proud

“You have no idea what I just said” you deadpanned

“That you love me and are forever grateful that you met me” Jenni grinned

“No...” you rolled your eyes

“That you love me forever and I'll be your Maid of Honour once Ale pulled her finger out of your.... HER ass and finally asks you to marry her” the dark haired grinned

“No... but you could be Godmother...” you smirked “... if you beat Keira to it... she's actually nice to me you know”

“Pff... that stand in bench friend...” Jenni rolled her eyes huffing not catching on what you just revealed as Ales hand protectively found your stomach

“Jenni” you groaned

“She only there for the time I can't” your best friend defended herself

“Well... YOU decided to fuck off to Mexico” you grumbled

“You know...” she started

“I do know...” you said softly ignoring the “screaming” of the fans in the comment section “... but sometimes I just wish you'd still be across the hall”

“You could always come here.... Sandra is coming too...” your bestie said hopefully

“I don't think so... Spain is treating me quite well...” you smiled slightly softly looking over to your girlfriend

“I mean... it would be funny... a Croatian player trained in France, her prime in Spain... retired in Mexico” Jenni grinned

“Far from retirement thank you...” you snorted “... but I do have to take a break soon”

“Your knee again?” your best friend face converting to pity

“Oh no... knee is fine...” you waved off “... sometimes you're just so dense Hermoso... even the fans already caught on”

“Caught on what?” your best friend asked confused

“Okay... official then” you huffed trying to calm your nerves feeling how your girlfriend started to draw small circles on your stomach in silent support “Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes... you know I love you to the moon and back...”

“Ehrm...” Jenni looked a little lost successfully interrupting you “... you sure you want to say all that with your girlfriend right next to you? If this is an offer for something... more than a friendship... I have to pass”

“Shut up and don't interrupt me again” your voice mirroring your nerves “... I love you... you are my best friend and I couldn't asked for a better friend than you... you've been with me through my highs and lows... you were the first one by my side when Carmona broke my knee in that game and you've been with me through everything... so... Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes... I couldn't ask for a better Godmother to my child than you... so would you do us the honour and be my babies godmother?”

“What?” your best friend looked flabbergasted at you while Alexia stood up retrieving the ultrasound pictures

“I need you to be there for my baby the way you've always been there for me” you said your voice strained with stress as your girlfriend handed you the little pictures

“What?” Jenni asked again as she couldn't wrap her head around the new information

“Jenni... please” you begged shoving the ultrasound picture towards the camera

“You... you messing with me right?” your best friend shook her head and in that moment your heart broke a little bit

“No...” you shook your head slightly biting your lip so you wouldn't start crying

“I... no wait...” Jenni stuttered and you watched how she stood up starting to roam the living room all the way in Mexico her hand in her hair

“Jenni” you begged desperately successfully getting her attention back on you the comments of the fans all forgotten as she just looked at you coming forward disconnecting the live

“Mi Amor” Alexia whispered softly as you tried to hold in your tears while the fans went absolutely mental about Jennis reaction to your news

“Can you...” you quickly said motioning towards the screen as you stood up speed walking into the bedroom closing the door behind you

It didn't took long until Alexia quietly opened the door to find you curled up sobbing quietly a spanish national jersey clutched in your fists as you cried into the material.

“Oh mi amor” your girlfriend said her heart breaking at the sight of you

“I thought...” you sobbed out as you felt the bed dip behind you

“Ssssshhhh...” Alexia hushed you gently laying down behind you her hand automatically finding that small bump that was the only evidence so far that a human was growing inside you “... sleep mi amor... I promise when you wake up it will be better... promesa”

“She's my best friend Ale...” you sobbed clutching the jersey tighter pressing your face into the fabric

“We maybe shouldn't have told her when so many people were watching” your girlfriend said knowing it was Jennis Jersey in your hand – you always got out her jerseys when you missed her it was your way of coping with the separation

“I didn't plan on it” you said thinking it was your fault

“No bebé...” Alexia quickly said “... don't start to think it's your fault... you felt it was the right thing to do”

“Obviously it wasn't” you sobbed “... she hates me now”

“No...” your girlfriend said softly pulling you closer into her “... Jenni could NEVER hate you... she's probably just... aclaparat”

“Overwhelmed” you offered the english translation

“Sí.... she needs to sort her head out” Alexia pressed soft kissed to your temple

“Good luck...” you chuckled quietly “.. it's Jenni”

“Sleep mi Amor...” your girlfriend said gently a little relieved that you calmed down a little bit

“Your child wants pollo al ajillo and patatas bravas as a midnight snack” you mumbled your eyes closed already

“Hm... I'll see what I can do to make our daughter happy” Alexia smiled into your neck her hand gently caressing your stomach

You were physically and mentally exhausted when you woke up the next morning. Alexia being the loco woman that you fell in love with already out running on the Beach like every morning and you knew she'll probably be back within the hour. You groaned as you rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom trying to get your day started when your eyes fell on the scrunched up jersey that laid carelessly on your dresser. Immediately your thoughts flew back to the afternoon before and to the reaction your best friend showed over the news of you being pregnant. You always wanted kids. Jenni knew that. She was there when you broke down in tears after a meaningless one night stand as you took a test. You wanted kids yes – just not like that. Jenni promised you all the years back that she would be there no matter the outcome. Now apparently her view on things have changed. You thought she would be over the moon. Maybe cry a little bit out of happiness. But not.... nothing. You felt so empty. You should've feel joy and happiness but right now you just felt empty. Your fingers felt the fabric of the Jersey your memories flooded back to the day Spain won the World cup. The second the final whistle blew you saw Jenni sinking down on her knees praying to whoever was listening above her thanking whoever would accept her silent prayer. Seconds later she sprung up to her feet sprinting over to where you were waiting for her. She pulled you over the barrier laughing loudly crying at the same time. Before you know it she pulled her jersey over her head and she woman handled it onto you.

Alexia watched you as you mindlessly stroked your fingers over Jennis jersey obviously deep in thoughts. Alexia was angry. This deep anger she knew she shouldn't feel towards also HER best friend but the way Jenni reacted to such important news was just – Alexia didn't know how to call it. It was more than inappropriate. It was just – not acceptable. Your girlfriend stood silently in the doorway sweat running down her back and her abs as she saw how your other hand came up to rest on the little bump. Alexia decided to leave you be with your thoughts knowing that no matter what she would say it wouldn't help you at all. The only person who could help you was Jenni. Jenni. The person who was responsible for your sadness but also the person who was the only one to pull you out of it – it was a paradox on. The blonde tried to sneak away as quietly as possible but you already sensed her presence turning around

“You've been quieter...” you smiled but Alexia saw the sadness in your eyes

“I still am... if I want to be” your girlfriend answered her face showing sorrow

“She'll... come around right?” you asked your voice cracking a little bit “.... she just needs time to process”

“Sí mi amor” Alexia covered the distance to you with three strides pulling you against her the Jersey still clutched tightly in your fist “... you know her... she's... dense... she just needs more time than others to understand”

“I don't have anyone else Ale...” you felt tears filling your eyes once again “.... I don't have anyone I want our kid with if something...”

“Nothing will happen mi amor...” your girlfriend spoke against your hair “... we'll see her grow up and be strong and brave and beautiful... so basically Jenni is not needed...”

“Who is your person?” you asked your head placed over Alexias heart

“Mapí” Alexia said seriously “And before you veto – with Mapí comes Ingrid... I trust Ingrid to take good care of another child – she has plenty of experience by then... she can make all the mistakes with Mapí and IF she's needed then she knows what she's doing with our Princesa”

“What if it's a Principe?” you chuckled at your girlfriends train of thoughts

“We can give him away and try again” your girlfriend deadpanned and it made you laugh

“Tell me she'll come around” you begged a second later as the hormones getting the better of you again

“She will...” Alexia pressed a kiss to your forehead “... even if I have to go all the way to wherever she is in Mexico and slap some sense into her”

It was two days later when something pulled you out of your not so peaceful slumber. It was some sort of ringing so you did what you always did

“Ale... your alarm” you groaned pushing your girlfriend harshly

“Sí...” Alexia mumbled against your shoulder still asleep

“Alexia” you grunted loudly pushing her again “... turn your alarm off”

“Lo siento” your girlfriend mumbled while she tiredly moved her arm to punch the alarm clock

“Gracias” you huffed getting comfortable again and JUST as you closed your eyes again the ringing started again

That's when you realized it wasn't the alarm... it was the doorbell

“Alexia...” you whispered

“Hm?” your girlfriend pulled you tighter into her her nose brushing against your neck

“There's someone at the door” you whispered again not knowing WHY you whispered

“Mi amor... just a dream” Alexia mumbled against your shoulder blade

“No I'm serious” you now said loudly “.. go look”

“Why me?” your girlfriend now groaned finally giving up on her sleep

“You can run faster if it's a robber or murderer” you said seriously

“Mi amor... mi vida... mi sol” Alexia rolled her eyes “... no robber uses a doorbell”

“Maybe he's a polite robber” you looked at her confused

“Of course he is” your girlfriend mumbled as the doorbell rang again

“Well... go open it” you pushed your girlfriend towards the side of the bed to get up

“I'm a two times Ballon D’or winner” Alexia said bewildered

“And I'm carrying your child... what's more importante La Reina??” you asked and Alexia knew there was only one correct answer so she groaned but got out of bed swearing under her breath

“If you are a polite robber... take everything what you can carry but let me get back to bed...” Alexia ripped open the door to immediately turning around again to get back into the cosy warmth of her bed

“I'm not interested in your stuff...” your girlfriend whipped her head around so fast she nearly fell over “... I'm interested in seeing my best friend”

“You have some nerve standing at my door in the middle of the night two days after you said NOTHING” Alexia sneered as she chased towards Jenni

“I...” your best friend started when Alexia stood in front of her poking into her chest

“No... you listen and you listen good...” Alexia grumbled “... you made her cry... you made her sad... you made her feel like you left her... she told me you were her everything – the only person she wanted around our child... and you fuck up saying NOTHING and just disappearing not answering any calls or texts? She cried into your Jersey Jenni and I'm not allowed to wash it because then it “doesn't smell like Jenni anymore”... “

“I booked the first flight over... it was with a ton of layovers... I got to the airport as fast as I could and left everything at home.... I just got through because people can google me – I don't even have one Pesos on me....” Jenni said taking whatever Alexia threw at her “... I love her Ale... not like you do... I would give my life for her... I want to hug her when she tells me she's pregnant... I want to cry with her together... I want to BE THERE when she tells me”

“I'm pregnant... I'm pregnant and you're the only person I wanted to tell from the day I had a weird feeling... but you were in Mexico and the Doc said to wait until the end of the first Trimester since that's the most difficult time... we said my knee was acting up that's why I was on the Bench for the last games...” you suddenly spoke from behind Alexia after you came out of the bedroom looking for your girlfriend – kinda expecting her to be already murdered but you heard what Alexia said to Jenni and what Jennis answer was “... I wanted to tell you so bad but they banned me from flying since my bloodwhatever is kinda on the low end so Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes... I am pregnant”

You were crying when you spoke the last words and so was your best friend who just pushed Alexia out of the way to engulf you in the tightest hug. Jenni kissed your hair over and over again as you both were crying into each others bodies.

“I'm... gonna make some tea” your girlfriend grumbled but silently was so relieved that everything turned out how she hoped

“And some patatas bravas” you mumbled shyly looking at Alexia innocently “... not for me... your baby...”

“Mhm...” Alexia rolled her eyes playfully

“While your at it Putellas...” Jenni perked up but Alexia just threw her the legendary la reina glare

“Your girlfriend hates me” she heard Jenni say to you making you laugh

“You can share Patatas with your godchild” you laughed making Alexia smile to herself while she started to cut up the potatoes

“So... names... can't call it it all the time” your best friend said as she threw the door shut with her foot

likes by Mapí.Leon, Ingrid_engen and others

alexia.putellas Benvinguts a les nostres vides Valentina Jennifer Putellas Segura

Cata.Coll ~ strong grip... she's going to be a Keeper ♥️

alexia.putellas ~ recupera això!!!

Mapí.Leon ~ @pinata you owe me 100€.. i told you she's going to get Ales weird feet

Pinata ~ she can still outgrow them!!

Mapí.Leon ~ not with these genes 🤣

Ingrid_engen ~ i know who's going to apologize to Alexia and y/n for this very rude comment

Mapí.Leon ~ lo siento Alexia 😔

Ingrid_engen ~ and?

Mapí.Leon ~ and she's very beautiful

JenniHermoso ~ most beautiful girl in the world ♥️

y/n ~ keep it in your pants ... she's too young to be corrupted by you already

[fratttymatty]

The Basement

(All characters are 18+)

Elliot York had always lived in a world of his own making. A world painted in shades of faded Polaroids, sepia-toned photography, and the tactile hum of his beloved vintage film camera. At 30 years old, he'd never left his childhood home. His mother didn’t mind. She was just happy he was there, safely tucked away in the basement, where he spent hours surrounded by his photography equipment, sketchbooks, and the scent of old books. His life had always been quiet and unassuming—except for the occasional flare-up of frustration over his stalled career as a freelance photographer and artist.

The basement was his sanctuary. He had put up curtains to separate the clutter of his workspace from the cozy corner where he gamed, lounged on old leather sofas, and tried (and failed) to distract himself from the loneliness that gnawed at him. The art on the walls, his collection of vintage cameras, the scattered paintbrushes and half-finished canvases—they were all remnants of a dream that had long been abandoned. But Elliot had found peace there, or at least a dull form of acceptance.

But one evening, as he sunk into his usual routine—editing photos, sipping cheap wine, and scrolling through social media—something strange began to happen. The room felt different. The walls started to shift and hum with an energy that he couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t a good feeling, not the cozy, familiar vibe that usually calmed him after a long day. No, this was something else. It was unsettling, almost alien.

Elliot stood up, his bare feet cold against the concrete floor. He reached for his phone to check the time, but the screen went black before he could tap it. As if on cue, the lights flickered, then dimmed, and then everything went dark. The silence that followed felt suffocating.

Before he could react, the floor beneath him began to tremble. His heart raced, and the air seemed to pulse with something he couldn’t name. Suddenly, there was a blinding flash, a searing light that filled every corner of the room. He shielded his eyes, but it was no use. The glow was everywhere.

The sound of furniture shifting, re-arranging itself, reached his ears. When the light finally faded, Elliot opened his eyes to find that the basement had transformed into something… different.

Where his art studio had once been, now stood a private gym. The walls were lined with weights, punching bags, and racks of dumbbells. There was a neon sign in the corner that read “GET BIG OR GO HOME,” and a large flat-screen TV mounted on the opposite wall, with gaming consoles strewn across a low table. His leather sofas had been replaced with sleek beanbag chairs, and there were posters of famous athletes and cars decorating the walls. The entire room reeked of sweat and testosterone.

Elliot staggered backward, his mind scrambling to process what had just happened. He looked around in a daze. This… this wasn’t his space. This was some jock’s lair. It was everything he wasn’t. But before he could piece together what was going on, he felt a strange tug in the pit of his stomach. It was an almost physical sensation, a deep, primal force pulling at him, rewiring him, altering him in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

And then it started.

His body began to heat up, the air around him feeling thicker, as if his very cells were being remade. His skin stretched and tightened, his muscles swelling unnaturally as the change began. Elliot gasped, but the sound came out wrong. His voice, once soft and melodic, deepened into something guttural, more masculine. The edges of his vision blurred as the pain started to radiate from the inside out.

His hands, once slender and artistic, grew thick with muscle. His arms were covered in a sheen of sweat as his shoulders broadened and his chest expanded. His abdomen contracted and thickened, forming the abs of a bodybuilder. He could feel the air leaving his lungs as the transformation continued—each breath a battle. His legs grew stronger, thicker, the bones in his legs cracking and reshaping, giving him the powerful legs of a jock.

As the changes continued, Elliot's mind was bombarded by new thoughts, new instincts. The urge to lift weights, to work out, to dominate, it all consumed him. His thoughts flickered and shifted, like pages turning in a book, each one erasing a part of his old self.

His hair was the first thing he noticed. The bleached buzzcut he had been sporting for the past year—decorated with delicate flowers and a symbol of his indie artist lifestyle—was gone. In its place was a thick, dark brown fringe that fell messily across his forehead, styled in the latest TikTok jock fashion. He ran a hand through it, surprised at how it felt so right to him now.

His clothing, too, had transformed. The oversized hoodie and vintage jeans he had been wearing were gone, replaced by a fitted, tight athletic shirt and cargo shorts that clung to his newly muscled thighs. He stared at himself in the reflective surface of the gym mirror. The person staring back at him was unrecognizable.

The most shocking change, however, was the way his mind worked. Elliot—no, the person who had been Elliot—was slipping away. His new name was Ethan. He knew that now. He felt it. The name Ethan York seemed to pulse in his veins. The old worries about art, about the future, about being different—all of that was fading. In its place, a new drive surged within him: sports, girls, and partying. The thrill of competition, of lifting weights, of kissing girls on couches like these… that was what mattered now.

Ethan stood there for what felt like hours, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror. His entire identity was slipping through his fingers like sand. His old life—the life of an artist, of a photographer, of someone who had longed to find his place in the world—felt distant now, like it belonged to someone else. It no longer seemed to matter.

A loud cheer echoed through the basement, and Ethan realized with a jolt that there were people here now. His friends—his new friends—were hanging out in the basement, lifting weights, laughing, playing video games, and throwing around crude jokes. One of them, a tall guy with broad shoulders and a thick neck, slapped Ethan on the back.

“Yo, dude, you ready for the party later?” he asked, his voice full of that easy confidence that Ethan now understood all too well.

“Yeah, for sure,” Ethan replied with a grin that felt so natural, it was as if he had always smiled like this. His old self—the one who had stared at the world through the lens of a camera, capturing fleeting moments—was gone.

As Ethan joined his friends, slipping into the role of the charismatic jock, he realized that there was no going back. He had been reborn. His old life, his old dreams, everything that had once been important to him, now felt hollow, irrelevant.

The basement—the gym, the gaming consoles, the posters of athletes—was no longer a prison of his own making. It was home. And for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt free.

He never once looked back.

The first few days after the transformation were a blur of new experiences, sensations, and… changes. Ethan, as he was now called, settled into his new life with an unsettling ease. At first, there was a part of him—buried deep inside—that clung to the remnants of his old identity. The artist. The creative soul. The man who had spent years living in his mother's basement, making art and dreaming of a different life. But that part of him quickly became overshadowed by the aggressive, hyper-masculine energy that now consumed him.

The more he worked out, the more his body seemed to crave the endorphin rush of weightlifting, of winning, of being the best. His muscles were constantly sore, but the pain felt good—it felt like he was becoming something greater, something stronger, something… dominant. And the more he grew in this new identity, the more he found himself disdainful of anything weak, anything soft. His patience with his old hobbies—photography, art, writing—waned. His camera, once a tool of self-expression, now sat neglected in the corner of his room, gathering dust.

Ethan started to feel that old life was for losers. The people he used to admire—quirky artists, introverted thinkers, anyone who didn’t fit into the tight mold of a jock—seemed… pathetic now. And in its place, a new breed of arrogance and entitlement bloomed within him. He was the center of his world now, and he knew it. The stares, the whispers—he loved them. He could feel the eyes of girls on him whenever he walked into a room, and it sent a rush of pride through his veins.

"Yo, Ethan, you gonna hit the gym today or what?" a voice called out as he walked through the basement. His buddy, Kyle, was sprawled across the new couch, his feet up on the coffee table, wearing a tank top that showcased his broad arms.

"Yeah, in a minute," Ethan replied with a lazy shrug, flipping his dark, messy hair out of his eyes. He no longer cared about the quiet, artistic moments he'd once cherished. Instead, he reveled in the shallow conversations, the jokes about how much protein they were consuming, and the constant flexing of muscles.

But then there were those moments, the ones that made his blood boil—moments that left a sour taste in his mouth, even in the high of his newfound popularity.

One evening, he was hanging out with a group of his friends—drinking beer and playing video games in the transformed basement, laughing too loud, throwing insults at each other like it was the height of wit. The mood was light, but there was something that cut through the laughter that made Ethan’s muscles tense, his jaw clench.

A guy he barely knew—Mark, one of the freshmen from the high school he still technically attended—had shown up at the party, wearing a tight shirt that clung to his body a little too snugly for Ethan's liking. Mark wasn’t a jock, not in the way Ethan now thought of as right. He was more on the geeky side, wearing glasses and talking too much about video games instead of football.

“Yo, Ethan, I didn’t know you liked photography,” Mark said awkwardly, holding a bottle of soda like it was his lifeline.

Ethan glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, I used to be into that art stuff. Now I’m focused on real things, y’know? Like... working out.” His voice was rougher now, full of the newfound arrogance that he couldn't even recognize as self-loathing anymore.

Mark fumbled with his drink. "Oh, cool. I mean, I think it's awesome how, like, artistic people can still be jocks."

Ethan’s expression shifted immediately. His lip curled into a sneer, and his eyes narrowed. “Artistic, huh? That’s cute. You know what I think about art?” He looked down at Mark with mock pity. “It’s for soft people. You know, like… weirdos.” His words were sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. The others at the party laughed, clearly uncomfortable but complicit in the joke.

Mark flushed, visibly shrinking under Ethan’s gaze. Ethan wasn’t even thinking about it at this point; he was just speaking what came naturally. The idea that someone could be into photography and still be tough, still be masculine, felt so wrong to him now. He couldn’t put it into words, but his gut told him that real men didn’t concern themselves with art or sensitivity. Real men got girls, lifted heavy weights, and dominated life. His new life.

But it wasn’t just about art. Ethan’s homophobia had grown like a weed in a garden, spreading uncontrollably. It was like his new self had to rewrite every part of him, especially the parts that could be considered “weak” or “soft.” His tolerance for things that felt “feminine” had evaporated, and soon, even the smallest hint of something that was remotely “gay” or “queer” made his skin crawl.

At one point, when a guy from school—Chris—who was a bit more effeminate and openly gay, sat down on the couch near him, Ethan felt his blood pressure spike. Chris had always been polite, always too friendly, but Ethan had never given it much thought—until now.

"Hey, Ethan," Chris said, adjusting his hoodie and running a hand through his sleek hair. "You up for a game later?"

Ethan didn’t look at him at first. Instead, he took a long swig of his beer, his eyes scanning the room. "Nah, man. I’m good," he muttered, his tone dismissive.

Chris laughed awkwardly. "Alright, well… if you change your mind, you know where I am."

Ethan’s eyes flicked back to Chris, narrowing. “Honestly, dude, you should maybe… like, tone it down a little,” he said, his voice low, deliberately cutting. "You don’t have to be all... effeminate all the time. It’s a little weird."

His words hung in the air, like a heavy stone.

Chris blinked, clearly taken aback. "What do you mean?" he asked, his face shifting with confusion.

Ethan leaned back, his gaze hardening. "I mean... just… you're acting like you’re in a fucking musical or something." He chuckled, but it sounded hollow even to him. “You don’t need to act so… gay all the time. It’s just uncomfortable for everyone.”

There was a cold silence in the room. Mark, Kyle, and the others shifted uncomfortably, but no one said anything. They just stared, either not caring or too afraid to speak up.

Ethan didn’t care. He was beyond caring.

He was a man now. And men didn’t have time for weakness, for sensitivity, for anything that didn’t fit into the world he had molded for himself. The girl he had been flirting with earlier, Mia—she was all over him now, and that felt like the only thing that mattered. He wasn’t some soft, emotional artist anymore. He was Ethan York, and he was popular, and he was a man.

The party continued late into the night. Ethan and his friends played video games, traded insults, and knocked back more beers. The air was thick with bravado, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. But Mark—who had been pushed aside by Ethan's cruel words earlier—remained quiet, nursing his soda.

He watched Ethan, his old classmate, with a strange mix of fascination and unease. Something about Ethan had shifted, something deep, something unsettling. But at the same time, Mark couldn’t help but feel a weird sense of longing—a desire to be part of the group, to be part of what Ethan had become. There was a magnetism about Ethan now, something powerful and alluring. And despite everything inside him that told him he didn’t belong in this world, a small voice in his head whispered that maybe, just maybe, he could change.

It was then that the transformation began.

It started subtly, like the shifting of shadows, creeping through Mark’s body like a slow burn. He felt a wave of heat flood through his chest, his limbs tingling with unfamiliar energy. He was still sitting on the couch, his eyes locked on Ethan as if hypnotized, but everything around him seemed to blur. His body seemed to ache, his muscles pulsing as if they were being stretched and expanded.

Mark’s hands clenched, his knuckles cracking as his fingers thickened with new muscle. His legs seemed to twitch, his jeans growing tighter around his thighs as they bulked up, swelling with new strength. He gasped, his breath catching in his throat as his entire body seemed to reshape itself, and his thoughts—his old, nerdy thoughts—faded away, replaced by an overwhelming desire to fit in, to be powerful, to be strong.

His clothes felt tight, uncomfortably so, and with a sickening snap, his shirt ripped open across his chest as his pecs ballooned out. His face burned, his jawline sharpening, and his hair—once messy and unruly—now fell in a dark, tousled fringe that framed his face in the exact same style as Ethan's. He barely recognized himself. Mark’s body, once scrawny and awkward, was now a mass of muscle, solid and imposing.

He stood up, suddenly feeling taller, stronger—almost as if he was made to stand out. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on Ethan, who stared back with a mixture of amusement and pride. Mark didn’t say a word.

The transformation had taken hold completely.

“Yo, Ethan,” Mark said, his voice now deep and confident, full of swagger. His tongue felt heavier in his mouth, and his words came out with a new arrogance, “This is fucking awesome.”

Ethan smirked, clearly satisfied. "Welcome to the team, bro," he said, throwing an arm around Mark’s newly broad shoulders, the two of them standing side-by-side. It felt natural, as if this was how it had always been.

Mark didn’t hesitate. His old self—the nerd, the shy, creative guy who had spent hours tinkering with gadgets and buried in his books—was gone. In its place stood someone who had finally found their place in the world. Mark was a man, and he wasn’t going back.

The soft hum of the gym in Ethan’s basement was now a constant background noise in his life—weights clanging, music blasting, and the occasional cheer of a newly broken record. The basement had been his domain, but in the last few months, it had become more than that. It had become the center of his life, not just in terms of workouts and gaming, but in how he’d built the new life he’d always dreamed of—confident, strong, and undeniably him.

But the biggest change had nothing to do with the weights or the video games. It had everything to do with her.

Mia.

She was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked up under her as she flipped through a magazine, occasionally glancing up at Ethan as he adjusted his dumbbells. The space between them was no longer just one of attraction or chemistry—it was something deeper now, something rooted in trust and understanding. They had been together for several months, and while the world around Ethan had transformed beyond recognition, there was one constant—Mia.

And she’d always had a way of seeing beyond the surface.

“Hey, how’s the game going?” Mia asked, a playful edge to her voice. She didn’t need to say much to get his attention.

Ethan grinned, setting down the weights. He wiped the sweat from his brow, then leaned against the wall, glancing at her. “Crushing it. Of course.” He winked, his tone cocky, but the smile on his face was genuine.

Mia raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You’re always crushing it,” she said, her voice light but full of affection. "You need to teach me your secret sometime."

Ethan laughed, walking over and sitting next to her on the couch, his hand naturally resting on the back of her neck. He let his fingers trail lightly over the skin there, brushing away a strand of hair. “You mean the secret to being irresistible?” he said, voice laced with playful arrogance.

She snorted. “You really do have an ego now, don’t you?”

He grinned, but the cocky edge in his voice softened. “Maybe a little. But I’m not complaining. Life’s good right now.” He took a deep breath, feeling the quiet satisfaction of his success, but it wasn’t about the muscles or the achievements. It was about the life he had built—and who he was building it with.

Mia reached up to cup his jaw, her fingers gentle as they traced the sharp line of his face. She studied him, her expression softening. “Yeah,” she said quietly, “I can see that. But you know what? I’m proud of you, Ethan. You’ve worked hard for all of this. I see the difference in you.”

Ethan smiled, the weight of her words settling warmly in his chest. “I don’t think I could’ve done it without you, Mia.”

She tilted her head slightly, still holding his gaze. “Maybe not. But you did it. And that’s all you.”

There was a silence between them—one of those comfortable, content moments that didn’t need any words. He knew what she meant. She wasn’t just talking about the physical changes—those were easy. What she meant was that he’d grown into a person who wasn’t afraid to be himself anymore. He wasn’t pretending to be someone he wasn’t, or hiding behind old insecurities. He was a man who had claimed his place in the world—and who had found someone who not only accepted him, but loved him for exactly who he was.

Their lips met softly in a kiss, one that wasn’t rushed or full of desperation, but one that carried years of silent understanding. They’d both grown over the past months—not just together, but as individuals. Ethan had finally come to realize that strength wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too. And Mia had always been there, steady and real, pulling him forward whenever he felt like he was slipping.

As they pulled away, Mia grinned up at him. “So, what are we doing tonight? I was thinking we could actually hang out in the real world instead of this basement gym.”

Ethan laughed. “You mean… like a date? Outside of this cave?”

“Exactly,” she said, her smile wide and genuine. “Maybe we could hit up that new sushi place you’ve been talking about? You know, actually go somewhere without a weight bench involved?”

Ethan thought about it for a moment. He was used to the basement—the familiar pull of weights, the games, the comfort of his private space. But as he looked at Mia, at the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about something as simple as dinner out, he realized that there were more important things than the four walls that had once defined his life.

“Sounds perfect,” he said, reaching down to take her hand. “I think I’m ready for something new.”

Mia grinned, squeezing his hand. “You mean you’re finally ready to leave your little kingdom?”

Ethan chuckled, pulling her up from the couch and leading her toward the door. “Maybe. But don’t get used to it. The basement's still got a few more workouts left in me.”

Mia laughed, her head resting against his shoulder as they walked out the door together. She was right—Ethan had changed. And while the muscle and the confidence were part of it, the real change had happened inside. He was no longer the guy who hid in the shadows of his mother’s basement, afraid to show the world who he truly was. Now, he was the man who had built his life, step by step, with the strength of his own will—and with the love of someone who saw him, really saw him, for all of it.

And as he stepped into the world outside, hand in hand with Mia, Ethan knew that whatever came next, he was ready for it. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t just surviving. He was living.

And he had someone by his side to enjoy it with.

[jieas]

—JUST A LITTLE BIT OF TIME TO HEAL THE ACHE!

what wind breaker boys— sakura, suo, kiryu, hiragi, umemiya, togame, endo, takiishi— do when you're sore

content: fluff, all probably occ, rdr is implied to be an athlete + had [unspecified] practice, slightly suggestive? (endo), minor blood mention (takiishi) total wc: 1234, each scenario is 100-200

a/n. wrote this since winter season = sports for me and i'm too sore to live (after only two days help me)

sakura haruka doesn't do anything to help alleviate your pain. at first, he just assumes you're being dramatic. you've done it before, complaining about something and then saying it's all fine within the hour.

but when he noticed the way you slightly winced each and every time you moved around, he realized this wasn't like those other times. though he had no clue what to do to help you, was there a right or wrong to it? he could only think of one thing that may help soothe you, food.

was there anything else that could help? probably, but he was already bickering with kotoha. and after tons, and tons, of back and forth with her, he'd somehow managed to convince her to let him take home some omurice.

he's silent as he hands you the bag, one hand jutting it closer to you while the other is clenched in his pocket. his face was beet red as he handed it to you, not admitting the lengths he had to go through to get it. since then, he always got something to eat after your grueling day at practice. even if it didn't relieve the ache you felt, it still made you feel better. just not in the areas that hurt.

suo hayato briefs you on types of anti-inflammatory teas when your muscles sting. there are slices of castella cake for you to enjoy while you try to ignore the constant throb of your thighs from the way you're seated. 

as he lists off various styles of pekoe, already beginning to brew another kind, he watches for any more signs of your discomfort. his glances are short, barely noticeable behind the steam that caresses his features. he's quick to direct his attention back to the small cups in front of him, watching the orange that blooms across the surface of the hot water. 

the rest of the time is spent with you talking about everything you did during practice, taking sips of the infusion every now and then. suo nods along, listening to every word with that familiar smile on his face though there's a flash of something else in his unhidden eye. 

however, it's quickly masked as he pours you more tea, knowing he'll make you as much tea as you need if there's a chance your muscles will ache less.

kiryu mitsuki makes sure to distract you from the discomfort you're experiencing. he teaches you how to play the latest game he has, watching your brows furrow in concentration. 

if you're busy trying to win, you can't focus on the dull throb of your shoulders or neck. and while you're occupied with the game, kiryu has a hot pack held against your nape. he has one hand rubbing the hot pack against your soreness while the other works into your shoulder. 

and if you win, he'll move behind you to give you a proper massage. if you lose, well better luck next time because the hot pack is the best you're gonna get.

hiragi toma and you are both swallowing a stomach tablet or two after you told him your abdomen felt strained. of course it was, your coaches had everyone focus a little too much on working their core that day. 

and though you informed him it would be fine in just a few days, he wasn't buying it. especially not when he could see the discomfort on your face whenever you simply laughed. 

so what if gas-kun 10's weren't for soreness? it was stomach medication and your stomach ached, what else was he supposed to give you? plus, he was already taking some when he found you were overworking your body so he might as well hand you one too, right? 

he'll always end up scolding you later but makes sure you're resting while he does.

umemiya hajime is practically at your beck and call when you say you're sore. especially if your legs are hurting. 

when he finds out you have any kind of pain in your thighs, he's making sure you won't be able to feel it. he's not allowing you to even think about going anywhere by yourself. 

umemiya makes sure to carry you everywhere, and if you need anything, he's bringing it right to you. why wouldn't he? it's not like he wants you to feel the way your legs wobble when you try to stand. 

just know that if your legs ache near umemiya, he's never letting you out of his sight. you won't even be allowed to stand without him right there, either holding you or supporting your weight. he just can't stand to see you struggling to do so.

togame jo doesn't let you lift a finger when you mention you're sore. he doesn't even let you move.

instead, he has you lying on top of him, your face resting by the crook of his neck. his large hands move across your skin, gently massaging any areas you complained about earlier. 

togame focuses on tenderly pawing at your aching back, light enough not to hurt more but just enough pressure that you can feel it. by the time he's done giving you cuddles and a message, you've managed to fall asleep. 

maybe it was the exhaustion from practice or he was just that good of a masseuse, but you refuse to tell him the reason. 

endo yamato runs you a warm bath whenever your muscles ache. but he can never leave it at just a bath. 

the moment you mention the stinging pain throughout your body, he's scooping you up and leading you elsewhere. it would be a sweet gesture if the wasn't lit with candles, a trail of rose petals on the floor, all while he jokes about how you should let him join you. though you're not sure if he really is joking. 

he's careful as he helps you into the tub, his touch tender as he washes your hair for you. of course, you could do it by yourself but why would he let you go through the trouble? just relax in the warm bubbly water and let him do it for you. 

after, he'll dry you off, wrap you up in a fluffy robe, and massage your arms as you lounge in the comfort of a soft bed.

takiishi chika doesn't say a word when you quietly groan as you sit down beside him to watch a movie. he simply glances at you for a moment before his attention is directed back to the actors on screen. 

though when he notices the way your knees tremble the moment you try to stand up, he's deft in pulling you back down. your hiss of pain is met with a hushed mumble from him, unclear if it was an apology or a low-pitched scolding. 

takiishi is quick to drag your legs into his lap, cold hands kneading your slightly swollen knees. you hear him grumbling about how you land on your knees too much during practice. 

you watched the way he squinted when he saw the small crimson splotches from when you accidentally broke the thin skin. there's a noiseless click of his tongue before he focuses back on the movie, hands still rubbing your raw knees. 

the night continues with you both still on the couch, takiishis cold soda cup held on your broken skin in a means to soothe it.

note. going through everything i wrote about all at once, i'm done

[maybejj]

The Beginning of Us. Part 1

babydaddy!rafe x sweetheart!reader

summary: You and Rafe were high school sweethearts that continued into college however Rafe went down the wrong path and you found out you were pregnant. 3 years later finds you and Rafe trying to navigate co-parenting your 2 year old son while overcoming life’s obstacles and past experiences.

warnings: mention of drugs, I think that’s it?

word count: 1.1k

“Mommy look at my tractor!” You hear your two year old son call to you from the other side of the room. You were distracting yourself from the fact Rafe was coming over to pick up Asher, the son you shared.

You turn towards him and gently smile. Asher was a spitting image of his dad. The only thing he inherited from you were your green eyes, everything else was all his father. The dimples, the blonde hair, the little smirk he got on his face right before he was about to do something he shouldn’t, his attitude. God, it was all Rafe. It use to make you emotional after you and Rafe broke it off but you’ve had time to move on. It doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.

“I see your tractor baby. It’s your favorite color.” You grinned at him and he returned it with his own goofy grin. Everything you did these days was to provide for your son. Making sure he had the best of the best and Rafe made sure of it as well. Your relationship with Rafe may have ended but you two try to put your differences aside to take care of Asher.

You and Rafe got together when you were 15. High school sweethearts, the power couple, the relationship everyone envied in high school. You were great together in high school. You were the couple that loved public displays of affection, always all over each other no matter the setting. Rafe was always so attentive to you, always so sweet and caring. You always listened to him and helped him express his emotions and feelings, especially when it came to his dad. There was never any arguing. Disagreements were common in any relationship and you definitely had those but you both never yelled at each other. You would work through any problems calmly to come to a solution. College was a different story.

You both went to UNC Chapel Hill and the first 3 months were unreal. The freedom of moving away from Kildare felt so good. You had your own dorm room, as did Rafe. You were both freshman at the time so your plans to have an apartment together was ruined by the college rules but you still made time for each other. Rafe was studying business, you were studying art. You thought you had the world at your fingertips. That was, until Rafe got into a fraternity. It didn’t take long at all until you noticed the shift in him. The staying out later than normal, lying to you about where he was, going to parties every night, ditching plans with you more often than not. When he did make time to come to your dorm to say sorry for the night before, he smelled like liquor and his eyes were red around the edges. He constantly rubbed his index finger under his nose, almost rubbed raw. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes when he spoke to you. You weren’t stupid, you knew he was getting into stuff he shouldn’t and you told him as such. He immediately would blow up on you saying it was none of your business. It was a never ending cycle that went on for months. One night it become too much when you found two bags of Coke in his truck glove box.

The front door opening pulled you from your thoughts. Rafe entered the apartment with several bags in his hands. Asher immediately dropped his tractor and ran to his father, grabbing onto his pant leg and jumping up and down.

“Hey little man, you look like you’ve been busy today.” Rafe gently smiled down at him while holding the bags in his hands away from the little toddler attached to his leg.

Asher only nodded multiple times and continued hugging his leg. Rafe didn’t move from his spot in the doorway, just gazing down at his son with a soft smile on his face. You watched silently from the other side of the room. Rafe only let his guard fully down around Asher, his son bringing out the best in him. You truly believed Asher was the only thing that saved Rafe from an overdose.

Rafe looked away from his son and met your gaze. The smile left his face and the solemn expression took over again. He nodded in your direction and lifted his hand holding the bags, “Got some stuff from the store I thought you might need.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You shook your head. Every time he came over he would bring bags of stuff he thought you or Asher might need; baby wipes, deodorant, your favorite shampoo, Asher’s favorite snacks, your favorite candy. He did it every time and every time you told him he didn’t have to do it. Rafe would just give you a flat look, shake his head, and change the subject.

Rafe exhaled softly and said your name which had you swallowing thickly. The way he said your name after all these years still caused butterflies in your stomach.

Asher seemed to be getting bored of not getting attention and detached himself from Rafe’s leg. He reached his chubby hands above his head to grab one of the bags Rafe was holding, “I take it Daddy. I strong for mommy.”

You and Rafe laughed as he took one of the bags and set it on the chair in the living room. Rafe followed Asher’s steps and laid the rest of the bags down for you to go through later.

“You got your bag ready, little man?” Rafe raised his eyebrows in Asher’s direction and the toddler quickly scrambled down the hall to his room. You waited until Asher was out of sight until you turned back to Rafe.

“I know I don’t have to say this but I feel better when I do,” You made eye contact with Rafe. “Please be careful.”

Rafe nodded slightly, raising his hand to run across his jaw. Rafe knew you worried a lot about Asher, he’d gotten better with dealing with it and not getting so frustrated. It use to piss him off because he thought you didn’t trust him with his own son but it was deeper than that. You and Asher had been through a lot and Rafe knew firsthand what it did to you. You knew Rafe would protect Asher with his life, he’d done it before. You just couldn’t help but think about past experiences every time Rafe took him for an outing but you were trying to get better.

“You know we will. I’ll bring him back before dinner.” Rafe promised before you both were interrupted by the bundle of energy barreling through the living room with his Spider-Man backpack dragging behind him.

“Let’s go daddy!” Asher grabbed Rafe’s hand and drug him to the front door. He waved his hand half heartedly in your direction and pulled his father out of the apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

adding the 3rd interview from that day here, the one where Harry says Louis is a good boyfriend and treats him really well.

the tag here from 2015 was "and they haven't done an interview together in the last 3 1/2 years" and now it's almost 13 years later and they have never ever been allowed to do another interview together.

clown ass Syco & Modest! behaviour

like, i need to rant for a second. my memory is awful, so i basically watched these interviews with fresh eyes. they're obviously super comfortable (dare i say: domestic) with each other. the flirting, the banter and the mirroring, and how it sounds like they already knew every single answer the other one is gonna give.. everything is so lovely. it's so obvious how how they sometimes get lost looking at each other and how freely and easily they touch each other. but watching these also got me thinking if you think about interviews where Harry actually said to Zayn, about Louis: "Don't say that.. that he's gay!" (x) "Lou, can I give you a blowjob?" (x) "Louis'.. Louis' boyfriend!" / "Can't choose boyfriend." (x) "And I'd marry you, Harry." (x) "I'd take Harry for the night." (x) (For my a dinner date I'd choose) Harry: "You, Louis." (x) "My first real crush was Louis Tomlinson." (x) "Are you and Louis dating?" Harry: *nods & blushes* (x) "She looks like Harry". Then, Louis: "Marriage. Sex, everything." (x) "Female." - Harry: "Not that important." (x) (re: sleeping with a man) Harry: "Hey, don't knock it 'till you try it!" (x) "Now kiss me, you fool!" (x) "What does Harry taste like?" - Louis: "Salt and vinegar." (x) and their million domestic tweets at and about each other (extensive tweets tag by the wonderful @skepticalarrie)

(and these are only the ones that quickly came to me off the top of me tired brain), then that decision truly baffles and angers me even more. There's like dozens and dozens more instances like the mentioned+linked ones, oftentimes where words weren't even said and they just touched or looked at each other.. and oh my god.. the FRISCO interview just a month after Paris, where Louis declared "some people genuinely think.. they GeNuiNeLy think that we're together!" and Liam says "You are, though, aren't ya!" and Harry just nods, all dazed and still wearing his cock-appointment-blush and then Zayn moves the topic towards him and Harry and curiously, nobody ever says "so it's not true!". and then the air kisses and sign language love declarations and their at least 7 matching tattoos (that we know of). the absolutely besotted way they looked at each other from day one. the way they verbally supported each other; defended each other and got obviously jealous over someone else touching either of them. and the rings Harry was gifted by Louis that he's still wearing almost 12 years later... like--

all of this still happened despite them never again being interviewed just the two of them or even getting a fucking segment just the two of them during things like 1D Day! which is so telling.

and all of this compared to how they behaved with each other during those Paris interviews -the ones that were -to Modest! obviously too much? let's be SO fr.. in my personal opinion, those interviews are very tame compared to everything else. they're rather sweet and polite and they didn't even touch each other nearly as much as they did in group interviews, because obviously that is safer, because you've got a lot more distraction for the eye with five guys instead of two. In one of the 3 interviews, Louis is even pretty quiet and calm; just seems very peaceful (or thoughtful). (which is just my personal interpretation, there could be lots of reasons for it)

And they were the same age in Paris as they were for a lot of the things they let slip in other group interviews then. sometimes when they didn't know it was being picked up by a mic or camera, but oftentimes they knew and still couldn't / didn't want to stop themselves :')

I could write a lot more about the hypocrisy of it all or how devastating it still feels and how angry it still makes me -almost 15 years later-, how swiftly and deeply they were shoved into the closet, when every other very private detail of their personal lives was being dragged into the public, twisted and turned and "marketed" to death. (and the latter was obviously fucking damaging to all of them) I shudder to imagine how much homophobia they were exposed to by the people who were supposed to nurture and guide them when their families and friends couldn't be with them. Obviously, the fact that they -so early on- were tried to be kept separated like that portrays just how desperate Clowndest! tried to do "damage control". And of course they failed, but not for lack of squeezing these two into such a sinister iron closet for so many years; piling up contracted lies upon contracted lies that added to all the pressure of two young people who were giving their love a try.. the more lies they piled up, the harder would it be for them later on.

and now look where we are now. they persisted, but at what cost?

Louis & Harry Paris Interviews

How many interviews are there of just Louis and Harry? I’m talking video interviews of L + H, sans Niall, Liam or Zayn to babysit them. There seem to only be a grand total of 2. And both took place on the same day. (February 14, 2012…Was it really on Valentine’s Day??) The Teemix interview below is broken up into 4 parts, but it’s all one interview.

This post actually took me longer than you might think because I tried so hard to find other video interviews of H + L. There aren’t any. Shocking, right?

L’Interview Paris - Fan2Fr

Highlights include: 

At 4:30 Louis reading Harry’s Hot and Dangerous on the fan-art: “Of course he’s hot” 

4:51 Harry says of Louis, “I would describe it more as funny and handsome and rugged…A bit more manly” and Louis gives the brightest most amused smile to the camera.

The looks they give each other at the end of the video with the whole ‘dangerous dave(?)’ thing. Many people hear Harry say ‘I’ll get you for that tonight’ in response. I suck at deciphering these things, but it would make sense given  Louis’ laughing reaction to it.

Teemix Interview 1 of 4

Louis’ face at 3:24 when waiting for Harry to describe Niall’s characteristics.

Louis softly pushing Harry’s hair back at 3:40 when describing him as ‘curly.’ He just..keeps..going..oh my god it’s adorable.

Teemix Interview 2 of 4

The way they finish each others’ sentences, talking about being normal lads. They seem so in sync and sound so relaxed about it.

At 0:38 – L: We still pop down to the shop every now and again– H: Bread and milk. L: Yep, the standard.

Teemix Interview 3 of 4

At 0:20 when describing their ideal girl, Harry corrects Louis’ ‘good sense of humour’ comment with ‘GREAT sense of humour’ and Louis nods ‘yeah’ with the most earnest, serious agreement I’ve ever seen from a person in a boyband answering a generic question. They’re clearly describing each other.

This entire segment is a ridiculous display of how calm and in sync these two are. Telling the story of Liam’s chat up lines, agreeing on their favourite date spots (1:35), Louis proudly suggesting ‘cook them their favourite meal’ (2:12), they’re so at ease with each other and so willing to agree on every little thing.

At 2:42 Louis tries to figure out how long he’s been with Eleanor and Harry suggests ‘a year?’. Harry’s just straight-up laughing at this point and again, clearly talking about him and Louis.

‘I would definitely say Harry is the most confident with girls’ and then he GRINS.

The way they’re smiling at each other at the end is too much. Louis tells Harry, ‘you’re on a whole new level of charm, man’ and can’t stop grinning.

Here’s a slow-mo gif of Louis’ cute head roll, when faced with having to choose his favourite love song. 

Teemix Interview 4 of 4

They cut off Louis at 1:52 here and it makes me realise I can’t even imagine what the unedited version of these L + H interviews is like…

[millyh23]

Falling for You

Leah Williamson x Reader

word count:

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

Leah Williamson was never one to get flustered. On the pitch, she commanded the game with precision, reading plays before they even developed. Off the pitch, she was composed, never letting her emotions get the better of her. That is, until Y/N walked into the room.

It had been months since they’d started dating, but Leah still felt like she was seeing Y/N for the first time every day. There was something magnetic about her—her smile, the way her laugh made Leah’s heart flutter, even the way she managed to light up a room without even trying. Y/N had that kind of presence.

Today, Y/N walked into the locker room, fresh from training, laughing with Alessia as they entered. Leah couldn’t help herself; she immediately turned her attention from the group she was chatting with to her girlfriend, completely entranced. Her eyes followed Y/N, admiring the way she carried herself with such confidence.

Y/N caught Leah’s gaze and winked, making Leah’s breath hitch. She quickly looked away, hoping no one noticed the sudden heat rising in her cheeks.

“Earth to Leah,” Katie’s teasing voice broke through her daze, and Leah’s eyes snapped back to her. Katie was smirking, clearly having noticed Leah’s distraction.

Leah grinned sheepishly, realizing she’d been staring at Y/N a little too long. “Sorry, just… distracted,” she muttered, trying to recover.

Katie raised an eyebrow, the mischievous glint in her eyes unmistakable. “By who? I’m guessing not me, huh?”

Leah glanced over at Y/N again, who was now chatting with Alessia and laughing at something funny. Her heart fluttered once more. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, avoiding eye contact.

“Well, someone can’t seem to keep their eyes off her,” Katie quipped, nudging her with her elbow. The others in the locker room, including Vic and Kyra, shared knowing looks and stifled laughs.

Leah rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She was about to respond when she took a step backward, still thinking about how adorable Y/N looked when she caught her mid-laugh.

Then it happened.

Leah backed straight into the water cooler, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud. A cascade of water spilled across the locker room floor.

“Oh no,” Leah groaned, her face going bright red as she stumbled forward to catch herself. She ended up off-balance, her knee knocking into a nearby bench, sending a few towels tumbling to the floor.

The entire locker room fell silent for a split second before a chorus of laughter erupted.

“Smooth, Lee,” Katie said, struggling to keep a straight face. “You planning on redecorating the room with that cooler, or…?”

Leah’s cheeks were flaming as she bent down to grab a towel to clean up the mess. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, alright?” she muttered, wiping the water off the floor with an exaggerated frown.

“You okay there?” Kyra’s voice rang out from the back, amusement written all over her face.

“I’m fine!” Leah responded a little too quickly, trying to get a grip on herself. “I’m just—”

Before she could finish, Y/N turned around, her eyes meeting Leah’s for a brief moment. And once again, Leah’s focus was gone. She forgot everything else around her. In an instant, Leah stood up a little too fast, her foot catching on a chair in the corner of the locker room.

She yelped and staggered forward, knocking over a stack of towels on a nearby bench.

“Leah, for the love of god,” Katie teased, barely able to contain her laughter. “How many times are you going to do that?”

Leah felt herself turn crimson. She opened her mouth to explain but immediately closed it when she realized she had once again been caught red-handed.

Y/N had already stepped toward her, concern in her eyes. “You okay, Lee?” She reached out, placing a gentle hand on Leah’s arm to steady her.

Leah felt like her heart had jumped out of her chest. “Yeah, just… clumsy.”

Y/N’s lips twitched into a smile, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she teased softly, giving Leah a playful look.

Leah chuckled nervously. “Yeah, well, I think I’ve hit my head a few too many times today.”

“I’m starting to think you need a handler,” Alessia piped up from across the room, enjoying the show. “Maybe one of us should be on ‘Leah watch’ every time Y/N walks in.”

Leah looked between her teammates, mortified. “It’s not like that,” she muttered, her cheeks still burning.

“Oh, really?” Katie raised her eyebrows, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Seems like someone’s got two left feet every time Y/N is around.”

“I’m fine,” Leah insisted, but the laughter from her teammates wasn’t helping. She felt herself sinking further into embarrassment.

“I’m just saying,” Katie continued, her tone playful, “it’s a miracle you’re still standing, considering how much time you spend on your knees in front of Y/N.”

Leah’s head snapped to look at Katie in surprise, but she couldn’t help but stutter. “Katie, don’t- dont make me—”

“Make you what?” Y/N cut in, raising one eyebrow and laughing.

Leah groaned, but she didn’t mind. Not really. Being distracted by Y/N wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She just had to learn to walk and talk like a normal person when her girlfriend was around.

“I think she should get a fine for every time she bumps into something,” Kyra suggested with a wicked grin. “Let’s start a collection for the ‘Leah is Clumsy Fund’.”

Leah rolled her eyes but was secretly grateful for her teammates’ teasing. They weren’t being mean—just playful. And the attention was worth it when Y/N wrapped her arms around her, gently pulling her into a side hug.

“You’re a mess, but I love you anyway,” Y/N whispered in Leah’s ear, making her heart flutter all over again.

Leah couldn’t help but smile, looking down at Y/N. “Maybe you should be the one who gets distracted by me once in a while. That way, I won’t be the only one crashing into things.”

Y/N laughed softly. “You’re lucky I find it cute when you get all flustered.”

Leah grinned. “I’m going to need all the help I can get, then.”

Y/N leaned in and kissed her cheek, making Leah feel a little less like a walking disaster. “No need to worry, love. I’ve got you.”

And with that, Leah realized, maybe she didn’t mind being distracted after all—especially when it meant she got to be with Y/N.

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

The End

[xinganhao]

🎸 vernon dates rockstar!reader. (3)

vernon x rockstar!reader who's a foreigner in an international rock band (3) a.k.a the one where you go public ➤ see also: series masterlist

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: international rockstar!reader, f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, pet names, fluff, cussing, best read in order + headcanons under the cut.

🔬 wikihow vernhow: how to go public with your rockstar girlfriend .ᐟ

Authored by Chwe, Vernon Last updated: November 10, 2024 ✅ Fact Checked

1. Assure your girlfriend that the world is not ending when she accidentally posts you to her main Instagram. Your girlfriend will wake up in a state of panic after putting you on her main Instagram story on accident. The first order of business will be to put her at ease. Call her the moment she messages you, just so a friendly face is the first thing she sees in light of everything.

Once her initial panic has subsided, try to distract her. Focus on making her smile or laugh.

Optionally, get some of her favorite food delivered to her apartment. She'll likely not be able to eat because of how nervous she is.

Constant reassurance is key. Make it clear that mistakes happens, and that you're not mad at her. You could never be mad at her, to be honest.

2. Talk with everybody relevant to the situation, i.e. your company and your bandmates. There will be a lot of meetings with managers, then company executives. There will also be the matter of breaking it to your twelve bandmates-slash-brother-figures, most of whom will be pissed to be left in the dark. Some of them will insist they knew all along. (Highly unlikely.) Overall, you will have a lot of explaining to do.

Tell them the truth. There's no use in hiding. Talk about how it's been over a year since this whole thing started; why this is the reason why you make frequent trips abroad.

Grin and bear it. These people will be everything from shocked, to petulant, to overly excited. Prepare for an emotional whirlwind.

Stand your ground. The company will give you a lot of shit about it; there will be endless discussions about group image, about risks and consequences. But you know what you want. You want her. That's what you should tell your members, your leader, your manager, your CEO. Do not falter. Do not let your voice crack. Be honest and hold out.

3. Do not confirm or deny rumors about your relationship. No matter how excited you are to finally see your names linked on headlines, do not give the gossip mills the satisfaction. Both of you deserve to break the news on your own terms.

If you really must, screenshot the news articles and keep them for your own personal amusement. The two of you can laugh about it someday. (Hopefully.)

4. Make sure you understand what 'going public' entails for the two of you. A secret, long-distance relationship is one thing. A public, high-profile relationship is an entirely different monster. Take a flight to her city. Be extra discreet about it. Meet up, spend the weekend. Talk. Talk until your voices are hoarse. Talk about your concerns; talk about what you're excited to have. Make a SWOT analysis. Kiss until you both can't think of anything else. Be abundantly clear what is on the other side if you decide to take that leap.

Ask her a dozen times if she's okay, if she's sure. Up until the very last minute. People can change their mind; she wouldn't be blamed if she does.

Make sure you're sure. Know how much is riding on this, on you.

Think of how nice it would be to hold her hand out on the street. To get to call her yours out loud. To acknowledge her in your dedications, to not have to hide the fact that she's the person you're jet-setting to see. Think of all that, keep it in mind. Take nothing for granted.

5. Go public. The company will make a statement. You will have to say something on WeVerse. She'll take to other social media platforms. Tune out the reports and ignore the hashtags. A temporary social media cleanse might be beneficial, even. For the most part— take comfort in the knowledge that it's out. Everybody now knows that you, Chwe Hansol, have a girlfriend. Someone you want so bad that you'll go back on all the things you believe. Everybody knows her now, so there's only really one thing left to do.

Hope for the best.

[hellothisisangle]

I found your Tumblr recently and omg I love your art style., it's so inspiring :D I just subscribed to your patreon because I need more haha.

I was wondering if you have any tips for colouring your artwork?

Thanks so much for the extra support! I’ll go into rendering a face with a reference pic below (because I think that’s what people practice/look at the most) with an absolutely quick and dirty breakdown

I already incorporate the heaviest shadows into my lineart a lot of the time, but I still have to think about shading where the light hits when coloring happens

Since this is coming from top right, the left half of his face will also be heavily shadowed. Understanding 3d planes and how it affects a shadow assists with getting lighting down correctly. I’ve outlined the obvious quadrants that I’ll typically shade with the darkest color. But before that you have to lay down a flat, a color I grabbed from the front of Gortie’s cheek- I think this is a very mid tone. Using a mid tone first is how I think most everyone colors/shades. I can’t say this is how I always do it, sometimes I like to work dark to light, sometimes I start coloring from the top or bottom or side, it depends on what feels good and I get distracted very easily. If I rewatch my timelapses I can see where I got bored of an area for a while and jump somewhere else/come back later

If I know I want to fully render something I don’t bother with cell shading. Not saying this is a good practice, in fact don’t do this until you have lighting practice under your belt.

Colors- go with the reference picture and grab colors from the areas of the face that you’re shading, but increase or decrease the saturation as needed

Forehead- I darken the hairline and add shadows for the loose strands of hair. This is something simple I’ve found elevates the 3d aspect

Eyes- look at eye makeup tutorials, no joke. It’ll show you where to add highlights to make the eyes pop. This is a stylistic choice, but I like my characters looking like they walked out of Sephora. I’ll give them eyeshadow and add a highlight to the upper lid and the inner tear trough. For the actual iris I shade really simply just making the lower part brighter than the top

Nose- bring the bridge forward with the lightest color, add a shine to the tip, darken the side and carry that to the cheek

Lips- upper lip dark, lower lip not, add a shine, I dunno what else to say about this sorry 💧

Chin- shade under the lip and bring the shadow down in a crescent shape

Everything else is sticking to the personal character’s features, like shading his cheekbone and laugh line. I also add a blush tone over the cheeks and nose (again stylistic)

Link to Timelapse: https://youtube.com/shorts/q7E-g05W0m4?si=shZFpHQwNuyO6Qt1

I’ll try to do an actual infographic later when I have time because I keep getting asked about coloring. Just know that I’m still learning new stuff every day and these things should be taken as a “this is what I’m doing now” sort of thing!

[sur-i-ki]

4/20

The one who always walks away

You’d thought about this moment a thousand times, imagined it so clearly that it almost felt like a memory. You saw yourself standing there, heart pounding, cheeks flushed, his name on your lips like a promise you’d been holding onto for years. You’d rehearsed what you’d say, practiced every word until they felt smooth in your mouth, tasted them over and over until you almost believed they might be enough to make him stay.

In your mind, he’d look at you with that soft, curious expression he saved for rare moments when it was just the two of you—no one else around to distract him. You’d imagined that he might reach for you, fingers brushing yours, a faint smile, a soft murmur of “Me too.”

But now, standing in front of him, you can already tell that none of this is going the way you’d planned.

You’re trembling, words getting caught in your throat, and when you finally speak, your voice comes out too small, too fragile. You spill every vulnerable piece of yourself, every feeling you’ve kept bottled up, laying it all bare in front of him, hoping he’ll see it for what it is—something raw and real and yours.

He blinks, his expression hardening as he listens, his eyes somehow distant and unreachable. The weight of his silence feels like a wall between you, pressing down, filling the space until there’s no air left to breathe. But you keep talking, pushing through every look that flickers across his face, as though you might say something—anything—that will make him understand.

Then, for a moment, his gaze meets yours. And just for that single breath, there’s something there, a flicker that almost looks like regret. But it’s gone in an instant, like a wave retreating from the shore, leaving only an ache in its wake. His gaze drops, his lips pressing into a thin line, and you realize he’s not going to say anything. He’s not going to try to make this easier. He’s not going to stay.

It’s not just the silence that hurts—it’s the finality of it, the way he’s already somewhere else. His eyes are shifting away, and you know, in that awful, sinking way, that you’ve lost him, that maybe you never really had him. He glances down, almost as though he’s embarrassed for you, before he looks away completely. And then he does the worst thing imaginable.

He turns and walks away.

Just like that. No words, no goodbye, nothing. You’re left standing there, heart wide open, everything exposed and raw, holding onto the pieces of yourself you’d just shattered at his feet. For a moment, your mouth is still half-open, the last words you’d meant to say stuck on your tongue, but he’s already gone.

The humiliation sinks in slowly, crawling up your skin, prickling across your cheeks. You feel like everyone must have seen it, must have heard the way you’d just laid yourself bare, vulnerable and wanting, only to be dismissed with a glance and silence. You want to claw back every word, every feeling, to hide the shame that’s burning under your skin, but it’s too late. You’d given him everything, and he hadn’t even cared enough to acknowledge it.

The days that follow are a blur of going through the motions, forcing smiles, pretending to be fine while his absence hangs heavy over you like a shadow. You try to convince yourself that he’s not worth the pain, that you’re stronger than this, but every memory pulls you back under, every detail of him stinging like salt in a wound that won’t close. You remember his laughter, the way he used to look at you when no one else was around, and it makes you wonder if you’d misread everything, if the closeness you’d felt was all just a trick of the light.

But the worst moments are when you catch him in passing, those fleeting glances in crowded rooms or across busy hallways. Each time, he glances at you, an expression that’s unreadable—a mixture of pity and something else, something almost like regret but too faint to be sure. And every time, you look away first, swallowing the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to pretend that the sight of him doesn’t hurt.

And you hate yourself for it, for the way your heart still jumps at the sight of him, the way some traitorous part of you still hopes he’ll look back, still aches for the warmth of a smile that’s no longer yours. You tell yourself that you’re better off, that you’re moving on, but in the quiet moments, when it’s just you and the emptiness he left behind, you’re not sure you believe it.

People ask if you’re okay, and you force a smile, laugh it off, tell them you’re fine, because admitting the truth feels too raw, too painful. You’re haunted by the image of him walking away, of that final, quiet dismissal, and the humiliation that lingers, a reminder of how much of yourself you gave away to someone who didn’t care enough to stay.

In time, you’ll get better at hiding it. You’ll go out, laugh, pretend it doesn’t hurt. But every now and then, when you least expect it, you’ll see him in a crowd, or hear his voice drifting over someone else’s laughter, and the ache will return, sharp and relentless. You’ll remember that moment, the way he looked at you, the way he walked away without a word.

And that’s what will haunt you—not just the rejection, but the knowledge that you loved him enough to give him everything, and he didn’t even care enough to give you anything in return.

⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

[halfwayhearted]

can you make a lamine boyfriend headcanons <333

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal Headcanons! ^_^

“don’t forget to kiss me.” / “or else you’ll have to miss me.”

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… comes up with silly ideas like having a ‘push-up contest’, knowing all he actually wants are compliments from you.

“Lamine, I already gave up. You can stop.”

“Okay… okay.” A breath. “How many did I do?”

“A lot! I’ve been impressed. Good job.”

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… will not take a normal picture. He always has to move, talk through it, or strike a random pose that doesn’t fit the picture’s aesthetic at all. It irks you, but it’s whatever.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… loves going on vacation with you. He has fun regardless, though he knows he’ll have even more fun if you’re there.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… tries to include you in literally everything. Practicing with Keyne? He’s calling you over so you can watch them play. However, the boy finds himself having to stop when his brother gets distracted by something.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… compliments you daily. Even if you think you look bad, he’s making sure you know he doesn’t think that at all. Never will.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… can’t plan anything for the life of him. When you’re talking about future dates and what he thinks of them, his only response is that he doesn’t care. As long as he’s with you, he’s a content man, as Lamine puts it.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… is unable to keep his hands to himself. Or, actually, any part of him. You’ll always have your hair ruffled by him, feel the palm of his hand running over the side of your face, or even have him bumping the side of his body into yours. “Do it again and I’ll freak out.”

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… wants to dance almost all the time if a song he likes starts to play. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to; you’re joining him, even when you tell him you won’t be good.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… has a tendency to pull you close after any minor inconvenience. You’re annoyed at him? Yeah, well, he’s pulling you toward him. Excited? He’s already reaching for you. Upset? He’s not only holding you tightly, he’s also murmuring words of comfort that lighten your mood. A smile gracing your lips in seconds.

Boyfriend Lamine Yamal who… can be serious despite always joking around. His love for you is real.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby ! ౨ৎ

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/766163417530875904/httpswwwtumblrcompeachhcs765958548506198016

em darling you can’t leave it like that!!!! i need to know what happened next!!

like does she eventually call him or he does he just show up because he so worried and can’t stand being so far not knowing what wrongs with his girl.

i lowkey feel like he can’t even be mad after he hears her reasoning and hates that samy is still learning to trust him because he screwed up if anything it makes him want to keep working on gaining her trust fully back

please and thank you :)

part 6 i think??? this is my new favorite side plot going on 😌 also yes small cliff hanger it’s my favorite thing to do. also if u didn’t know samy’s middle name is poppy and i think it’s cute to make luke call her pop sometimes :)

au masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 7

will woke up the next morning with the immediate thought to check his phone. he scanned though all of his notifications, hoping and hoping there was at least one from samy or luke, but when the blonde saw nothing his heart sank.

she hates him. she forgot about him. she doesn’t care.

he started spiraling, a cloud of anxiety forming over his head, but will tried knocking some sense into himself. there was a chance she was just busy getting tests and results back. she might be with her parents, or on her way home? she was caught up in all of it, she just hadn’t called yet.

that was understandable. yeah. she wasn’t ignoring him because why would she? he was her best friend. her boyfriend. they literally grew up together and told one another everything.

will tried shaking himself from the dark thoughts as he pushed himself out of bed and made his best attempt to get ready for practice and the rest of the day. maybe she’d call when he was at practice!

he just needed to think positive.

will did what he could to distract his mind as he went through his usual morning routine. he brushed his teeth listening to some music, washed his face, sort of did his hair, and then went downstairs to figure out what was for breakfast.

patrick and christina were already downstairs along with the younger boys running around getting ready for school. the two glanced over at the blonde, trying to read his expression.

“hi will, how are you?” christinia wondered.

“i’m fine. doing fine,” will nodded, but he didn’t really sound convincing. patrick and his wife exchanged a glance.

“any updates?” patrick dared to ask.

“um, no. not yet,” will shook his head, his lips forming into a tight-lipped smile.

“i’m sure she’s just talking with the doctors and getting discharged and settling back into home,” christina assured, rubbing the younger boy’s shoulder like he was her own son.

“yeah, i know. that’s what i’m thinking,” will nodded, moving further into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat before he needed to pick up macklin. he needed to busy his mind or else it would be the only thing will would think about all day.

the marleau’s watched in slight worry, but they knew not to push too far. they knew will could handle himself and samy would call soon. the hockey player rushed out of the house in a quick goodbye, climbing into his car and driving off without a second thought. the ride was silent besides the soft hum of the radio playing and when he pulled up to his friend’s place he braved a smile.

“morning,” macklin mumbled, tired and dreary-eyed like he just woke up ten minutes ago. will nodded, pulling back onto the road towards the rink.

the silence wasn’t unusual for them. usually, it was pretty silent on their rides in because of how early it was and how little sleep they got the night before. macklin didn’t say a lot and neither did will which he was glad for because the blonde wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take the million questions macklin sometimes had for him.

“hey, did you hear anything more from samy? is she doing okay?” shit. there it was. the brunette’s curious gaze slid to will’s.

“uh, she had to get surgery on her shoulder. a tendon tear or something,” will swallowed thickly.

“oh, shit. that fucking sucks. is she doing alright? i’m sure that’s gotta put her out for awhile. i texted with her for a bit last night just to see how she was but she never told me that. wow,” macklin didn’t notice the way will’s grip on the steering wheel whitened his knuckles nor the way his jaw clenched.

how many more people were gonna tell him they talked to his girlfriend before he even did?

“you were texting her?” will couldn’t help the anger in his voice.

“yeah, just wanted to check in after seeing that hit. it was brief, but she said she was doing alright and i said i was sorry that happened and i hope she bounced back soon. she hearted the message,” macklin explained their entire exchange and even though it wasn’t even a lot, it made something stir in the blonde.

“so she can text my fucking teammate and not call me?” will huffed under his breath which macklin did catch this time.

“what?”

“she hasn’t said a word to me.”

“wait, what do you mean she hasn’t said a word to you? you just said she had to get surgery,” the younger brunette became confused.

“because i learned all of that from her brother. samy hasn’t called or texted me since it happened,” the anger didn’t disappear from will’s voice.

“seriously? you’re her boyfriend. why wouldn’t she call you?”

“i don’t know, you tell me man. i don’t really know what i did wrong or why she won’t talk to me. i’ve been trying to reach her since last night,” will finally cooled off a bit, but his grip on the steering wheel didn’t.

“well, shit. i’m sorry, i didn’t know that. maybe she’ll call while you’re at practice or something. i’m sure she means to there’s just a lot on her mind.”

“yeah, sure,” will wanted to believe that but he couldn’t after hearing how she’s spoken to everyone but him.

meanwhile, in boston, luke was sitting in samy’s room with her after their parents asked him to bring something up for her from the cafeteria. the siblings were sitting in silence, luke texting on his phone and samy just staring the wall. her mind was clouded with calling will—something she still hadn’t done yet.

finally, the older hughes brother caught onto his sister’s quietness. he lifted his gaze and noticed the way she stared off into space and waved his hand in front of her.

“hey, earth to samy?” the girl snapped out of her daze.

“huh?”

“you okay? you look..worse than i would expect you to look after breaking your shoulder,” luke raised his eyebrow at his wording making her roll her eyes.

“i’m fine,” samy mumbled.

“why do you lie every time you’re keeping something from me? you know i can tell every single time, right?” luke rolled his eyes this time.

“just got a lot on my mind, luke,” his sister grumbled.

“seriously, what’s up? if it’s about mom and dad you know i won’t tell. not anymore at least,” the curly-haired boy chuckled to himself thinking he was way too amusing while samy didn’t find any of it funny.

“it’s not about them. it’s nothing, i promise,” she tried getting him off her back.

the girl’s phone buzzed in her lap where her lock screen lit up. the two saw the picture of her and will as her background and then it quickly clicked in luke’s head.

“have you talked to him?”

samy’s silence was his answer.

“c’mon, pop. you know you can talk to me. i’m not gonna judge you or whatever,” luke’s tone fell softer, pulling out the nickname he only called her since they were kids.

“i want to call him, but i just can’t. i..i can’t do it.”

“why not? did something happen between you two again?”

“no, but that’s the problem. i’m worried something will happen—like i’ll burden him or some shit. or like..i’ll run him out again by relying on him for everything when i shouldn’t or don’t need to. i just..i didn’t wanna burden him with this knowing i’m fine and he has hockey to worry about,” the tears fell faster than samy could stop then or even process that she was really crying now—harder than when she talked with ryan and gabe yesterday.

luke’s face fell. he hated seeing his baby sister so upset, so he reached his arms out to gently wrap around her frame for a hug. he didn’t say anything, just letting her cry it out and feel all the emotions.

they stayed like that for another good minute before samy finally pulled away. she embarrassingly wiped her eyes from her tears while luke just rubbed her knee.

“i’m sorry. this is so stupid,” the brunette laughed dryly—her poor attempt at humor.

“hey, don’t apologize. this isn’t stupid. you’re allowed to cry,” luke reassured her.

“i just don’t know why i can’t just call him. maybe it’s the pity i hate? or that i know he’d offer to fly out and drop anything but i don’t want him to do that just for me,” samy rambled some more while her brother just listened and nodded.

“can i be honest with you, pop?” the older boy wondered and samy nodded.

“i think you’re scared to let people care deeply for you and about you. you know how much will cares about you and i think that scares you. especially since he also hurt you,” luke kept an even tone, but his expression was soft. “if i know anything about will it’s that i know how much he loves you. he’d do anything for you and yes, i know it’s scary knowing how much someone cares about you to do that. however, you’re not a burden. you’re not gonna run him out. you’re not gonna annoy him. he loves you and he genuinely cares about you, i promise.”

luke’s words made samy cry harder. she buried her face in her hand, the tears pouring from her eyes all while the older hughes did his best to comfort her.

“what if he breaks up with me again because i didn’t call him right away?” now there was a whole new wave of anxieties to worry about.

“he is not going to do that. if he does, i’ll fly to san jose myself and punch him, but he won’t. i’m sure he’s waiting to hear from you and has been since yesterday afternoon,” luke nudged her good arm and nodded towards her phone. “it’s okay to let people in, pop. it means they care about you. i know it’s scary to trust again, but even i admit to how much that boy loves you and would do anything to gain your trust back.”

samy sucked in a deep breath as she found will’s contact again. she looked at luke who nodded before finally hitting call.

will’s phone vibrated by his leg. he was geared up for practice when he saw samy’s contact light up on his lock screen. the blonde’s heart quickly beat as he scrambled to answer it, stepping further away from the boys still getting ready.

“hello?” he breathed.

“will?” a wave of relief washed through him when he heard samy’s familiar voice on the other end.