#I'm being forced to draw shoes and I'm not happy about it

[gayori-boi]

Same character in different fonts. Doctors, with paper bags on their heads, are a menace.

YOOOO a crossover we deserved!! I haven't drawn Flug in a bit, happy to see that I've improved a bunch since my paperhat obsession. Still refuse to draw the plane print on his shirt though. I don't even know why.

Contrary to what it might look like, Flug is not intimidated by Faust, because this guy deals with basically satan as a part of his job. They're both just being awkward.

I don't know enough about Faust to say if they'd get along. They both were/are a danger to public safety and committed countless crimes, but Faust is the only one who feels remorse for it. Sooo maybe he wouldn't be very polite about it. The dynamic of Faust potentially seeing past self in Flug would be interesting though >:3c

I did mix their color pallets to make them fit together even more but shhhhh, you didn't hear this from me. I've been trying out making line art by just carving the shit out of the sketch and I've never felt this free. It's so nice.

ALSO THAT OVERSIZED TWIG WEIGHTS AS MUCH AS ME AND I'M VERY MUCH SHORT, BABY GIRL ARE YOU OKAY??? He really isn't, there's no point in asking

[anakinstwinklebunny]

FUTUREDAD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS 🍼

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

🍼 Futuredad!Anakin who was so damn excited after you've announced him your pregnancy that he couldn't shut his mouth abt it for weeks

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who is obsessed how your body changes due to pregnancy. He'd definitely eye you up and down more often, stopping at your swollen breasts or round belly

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who makes sure you're all comfortable whenever you can

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who rests his head against your belly bump while you play with his curls. He'd start telling you about his day, drawing small circles on your belly before he falls asleep

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who loves to stroke/touch your belly skin-to-skin. Always, when you two are alone, would lift your shirt and run his hands over the swollen area

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who talks to the baby in womb. He'd just plant gentle kisses along with child's movements, whispering some words like.."look at you..so strong already" / "such a responsive baby..bet you're gonna have my looks and mommy's personality, hm?" / "yeah, you're gonna move more? Gonna just respond to daddy's silly talks?"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who uses the force to calm down your baby when it's movements get uncomfortable

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who tries to keep you happy all the time;

"Ani" you whine softly, shaking his arm so he'd wake up

With a small gasp that ended his soft, quiet snores he stirred awake "what?" his voice was raspy, almost begging you to let him go back to sleep

"wanna ice cream.." you whisper a bit shyly, knowing the hour of your tempting craving

Anakin would sigh as his eyes met the light digits on electric clock standing still on his nightstand "love, it's almost 4am..just try to fall asleep, s'gonna go away.." his arm covered the half of his face

This made you frown, having a damn human being inside your body wasn't the easiest thing in the word and trying to shoot the craving out by getting sleep wasn't the most pleasant idea "c'mon Ani.." you whined again, not letting go of shaking his arm "it won't..the baby needs ice cream and sleep isn't the way out of it"

Another sigh left his mouth, this time more of a surrender, since how could he argue with a pregnant woman? He rubbed his face before pulling the blanket away from his body "alright, alright..guess I can't argue with the baby"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who makes sure to compliment you since your body is changing and he knows how psychically overwhelming it may be

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who accidentally would drink your breast milk thinking it's a real one

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who loves how your body changes. The swell on your belly from his child, swollen breasts that he'd definitely pay more attention to whenever he can catch a glimpse of you just walking and them jingling or whenever you innocently change your clothes before him

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who can't help but make love to you (very gentle way to call it) silly while his eyes are taking in your bouncing breasts from his thrusts

"A-ani..you're gonna hurt the baby" you mewl

"Bullshit..had been reading about this all day sweetheart.." he groaned "the baby won't even know that I'm gonna fuck another one in that pretty womb" (guys I know you mostly can't get pregnant WHILE being pregnant but it just gives me ani talk vibes)

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who gets a bit concerned if he for sure didn't hurt you or the baby after sex. Would try not to leave any marks on your belly and lower body

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who helps you with basic things that started to be troubling for you. Like tying your shoes, bending down to grab things and etc

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who got concerned after he caught you going to the bathroom too many (for him) times. He'd spend most of the day educating himself about pregnancy to understand you better, to help you with other things and to just know more

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would pout, trying to put a diaper on the newborn doll. He'd look around the room at other parents that attended to antenatal class and actually frown when he tried to copy their movements but it only became a worse mess

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who educates himself about parenting. Would watch different videos and read books between his daily tasks

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would absolutely freak out when your waters broke;

"God, god, god..where is it?!" he anxiously searched for the bag with all the things already set up for birth

"Anakin!"

"Here you are" he murmured to himself, almost tripping downstairs "shit--coming sweetheart!"

"Just breathe..it's gonna be okay.." he exhaled, tapping on the steering wheel as he waited for the green light to appear

"I am breathing"

"I was saying it to myself.." he murmured, hoping you actually didn't hear that

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would argue with doctors about staying by your side during birth. He promised he'd be there and help you as much as he can and the thought of not being there was horrifying to him

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who praises you and encourages you to keep pushing. Would stroke your stuck from sweat hair out of your forehead, kissing your head, running his thumb over your knuckles

"C'mon sweetheart, you can do it.." / "you're doing so great baby, one more push and it's gonna be all over" / "you're so strong.. m'so proud of you.."

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would cry his eyes out while holding and acknowledging that he has a baby girl in his arms

"Look at you..you're so small" / "so tiny..my little girl, my little princess, my shining star"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who's the best girl dad ever. Trying to do her hair (watched a lot of videos on how to do it just so he can make her a braid), playing with her in tea party, letting her paint his face (of course he'd be a little grumpy but never taking it out on her), DEFINITELY doing all other things like taking her on to pod races while they two eat popcorn and dish about everyone with almost the same frown

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would be unstoppable duo with his little girl; both probably hating sand, doing all mischievous things and this attitudeeeee

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who wouldn't stop at one kid with you (if you'd even want more)

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @heartsforanakin @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydenlovers @haydensprettyprincess @lunalitva @catnipaddictt

(if you want to be on the tag list or removed from it then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[yzzart]

Could you do a piece where snow forced reader to dress more conservatively and change her hair (cut and style) compared to her normal look and clothing?

"𝐀𝐧 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞."

pairing: president!Coriolanus Snow x f!reader.

summary: Coriolanus didn't just change him but he also changed you.

warnings: mentions of unhappiness, explicit words + take a look at the masterlist!

word count: 1.024!

notes: here it is, anon! and i think it was too long 😖 but i'm satisfied with this work, enjoy it and i hope you like it!

The one in the mirror, truly you?

That question, a confused inquiry, had compromised itself in your mind; with no intention of simply disappearing and leaving you alone. — A lump of embarrassment and imposition formed in your throat.

The image of a woman wearing cautious, at one point even intimidating, and, extremely, expensive clothes was trapped in the huge mirror. — The fabric of the white pigmented dress was very well prepared and dedicated, accompanied by some divine pearls; it would be cruel to touch them. — Jewels around her neck, giving her an air of purity and elegance.

Her posture was honorable, drawing attention from discreet and daring glances; a lucky woman who everyone wanted to get their hands on. — Being the reason for fights and threats between compromised souls.

That wasn't you, but at the same time it was. — That conservative, intimidating style would never be used by you on a casual day or for your good will; your chest would never feel comfortable in such a garment. — You would never feel comfortable with that whole situation.

However, your loved one admired that change in you. — Such a drastic, sudden and radical change that Coriolanus brought to his life; which he dedicated with love and care.

Coriolanus changed everything in his chest, and perhaps even in his soul, throwing that poor, rotten carcass somewhere no one would find it. — And when he saw the chance to change you, you sweet, naive girl, Snow wouldn't let it fall through his fingers.

All the best articles of clothing in the Capital were in your hands, gifted by Coriolanus. — It didn't matter the price, if countless hands were spent producing that fabric, he wanted to see you using it; independent of all. — And you made a point of making him satisfied, happy.

Even though you hated with all your strength, which was so fragile and delicate, that image that was beginning to be built in you; thinking deeply about your old image, about how you really were. — Your chest was tearing, burning and wanting to destroy every bit of that glass that witnessed his current reflection.

But, Coriolanus loved you that way. — He was so pleased.

"Here you are!" — Upon being mentioned, mentally, Coriolanus's voice echoed through the modest and cold room; coincidentally, like him. — Making your thoughts disappear, as if they never existed and didn't bother you.

Wanting to see him, you directed your head towards the door and came across those deep, vigorous eyes, which were once dreamy, staring at you. — The expression of pride formed on Coriolanus's fascinating face; a face that you are sure was carved by blessed souls.

Coriolanus admired you, agreeing how that dress, personally chosen by him, hugged your body in an exquisite way; you were perfect. — If he had the opportunity, even though he has and could snub her, Coriolanus would keep you for his eyes only.

And that spark of thought, an idea began to sink into the head of the boy, or rather, the man Snow every day, minute and second.

"My beautiful girl." — Coriolanus directed his steps towards you, causing some noises on the floor coming from his shiny and expensive shoes; shoes worth half the lives of the Panem. — "So beautiful…"

"Thank you, Coryo." — A thank you in such a fragile voice, almost coming out as a whisper; deep down, you didn't want to thank him for that compliment because you felt like it wasn't really meant for you.

Now the presence of Coriolanus was behind you and joining the mirror; the difference in height drew so much attention, giving you butterflies in your stomach. — You couldn't justify whether it was the excitement of seeing him or the intimidating feeling he showed, but you didn't deny the happiness that grew in your chest. — He was there with you.

Well, a different reflection of the Coriolanus you knew but he was there.

Without saying anything or even sighing, Coriolanus passed his arms covered by the long-sleeved white t-shirt, which was very reminiscent of his dear father's, around your waist; his hands passed over the slightly rough but comfortable fabric of the dress. — There was nothing comfortable about that dress for you. — Distributing a simple squeeze, a sign of wanting your attention, in the region.

For a second, you held your breath, not knowing the reason for this action, and your eyes focused on the mirror. — Coriolanus' head resting on your shoulder, his lips forming a convinced and enchanted smile before you; equal to a man when building a work with perfection and a lot of dedication.

"That dress looks perfect on you." — His dangerous and arrogant lips left long kisses on your neck and areas close to your shoulder; it tickled, it didn't bother you, and it let silent grunts escape your mouth. — "Don't you agree, my dear?" — Coriolanus wanted to elicit a specifically positive and obedient response from you.

At that very moment, and for the first time that morning, Snow didn't get what he wanted. — No words came out of your mouth, just a miserable sigh; still feeling his kisses on your sensitive part of your body.

"Answer me." — He interrupted the sealing session with his authoritative voice, a tone of voice that he began to present in recent times; Coriolanus listened and watched you swallow hard. — "Or are you not satisfied with everything i have done and given you?" — He was bitter and so cruel at the same time with those words.

and God, that's not what you were thinking.

"No, Coryo!" — Was it a scream? You didn't even realize that you had let out a very loud tone of voice. — "No, no." — Shaking your head quickly and disagreeing with the fallacies your lover uttered, you tried to calm the situation. — "That dress was great, i loved it."

Now, a nervous and distressed smile formed on your beautiful and stubborn lips against Coriolanus' venomous and superb smile. — He had you in his cold, rich hands, he had you in the cage like a little bird crying for freedom. — He had you.

"You don't know how happy i'm about this, my love."

[spencerlicious]

Hi! I noticed your requests open and I had an idea rattling around my brain where Spencer is trying to break things off to protect reader from the dangers of his job but she won't let him and it's angsty but with a happy ending oh pretty please?!?

thank you for your request!! sorry it took literally forever lol

protect you

spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n (one time, i'm so sorry it was necessary), a little bit of angst, that's it! lmk if there's anything i should add!!

w.c.: 0.8k

—

He was acting distant, and you could tell.

You were used to Spencer coming home from a case exhausted, but he would always kiss you softly, telling you how much he missed you and occasionally even sharing a few details from the case.

When he arrived to your apartment this time, however, it was different. You heard your door being unlocked, and you dropped the pan you'd been washing into the soapy water. "Hi, Spence," you say happily, going to greet him.

He kicks his shoes off gently, the slightly beat up converse landing next to your own shoes. Finally looking at you, Spencer forces a smile. "Hi," he says quietly, pulling his messenger bag off and hanging it above his shoes.

Your expression falters slightly- he's usually more enthusiastic about seeing you. "How was the case?" you ask, hoping to gain some insight as to why he's acting this way.

He takes a deep breath before responding. "Really rough." Spencer bypasses you and sits on the couch, picking a book up off of your coffee table and thumbing through it. You watch as he walks past you without touching you, your eyes narrowed in confusion.

In an attempt to make him feel better, you head back into the kitchen to make him a cup of tea. The water begins to heat as you put pieces together in your head. He'd barely called or texted on this case, didn't let you know when the jet had landed, and now he was very closed off. You drop the tea bag into the mug and walk over to the couch where Spencer is reading.

"I made you some tea," you say, offering the mug to him as you sit next to him on the plush sofa.

"Oh, thank you," he looks up from the book and takes the mug, barely even looking at you.

You sigh. "Spencer."

He looks at you finally, eyebrows raised. "Y/N?" he answers.

"What is going on with you? Even on really bad cases, you're still excited to see me..." your voice wobbles.

He frowns slightly, taking a sip of the hot tea. "I am happy to see you," he begins, "but I don't think we can stay together."

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. "What?" you stutter, your eyes becoming glossy. The atmosphere of your apartment - usually very warm and cozy - is suddenly cold and closing in.

Spencer looks at you awkwardly. "It's not that I don't like you, I really, really like you, but my job is so dangerous, and this case reminded me of how much danger I put you in by being in a relationship with you," he says, his eyebrows knit together as his lips turn into a frown.

Tears draw jagged paths on your cheeks, and it breaks Spencer's heart to see. "I don't understand," you finally say. "Your job has nothing to do with me."

He takes a deep breath and sets the mug down on the coffee table, before reaching for your hand. His fingers intertwine with yours. "On this case, the unsub was targeting the family members of people he'd perceived as doing him harm. Wives, children, pet...it was awful." He sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. "I don't want you to ever be put in a position like that just because of my job. I look around the team and see how much some of my friends have lost, and I couldn't bear to lose you like that."

You bring your hands to your face, wiping away the tears that are falling. "So you want to break up?" Your voice is shaky as you try to come to terms with what Spencer is saying.

His head shakes. "No, no, I don't want to break up with you," he struggles, "but I'm scared for what could happen."

You push the tears away again, continuing the motion to also push your hair back. "I'm not scared," you say. "How could I be when I have my scary FBI agent boyfriend to protect me?"

You and Spencer both laugh, and it breaks the tension slightly.

"I can't always be there to protect you," he says.

"I can hold my own, you know?" you say, half laughing. "I really don't want to break up, Spence."

He nods. "I don't either."

You move across the couch and he pulls you into his lap. "Two out of two votes, I concur that we're not breaking up," you say, kissing his cheek.

Spencer grins at you softly, admiring your humor. His fingers come up to your cheeks to wipe away the paths that your tears carved. "I'm sorry I freaked out," he says.

You rest your forehead against Spencer's. "It's okay baby, I understand. I'm glad we talked about it. Maybe from now on we try to communicate more while you're away on cases that way you know I'm okay?" you say, cocking your head to the side with a small smile.

"I'd like that," Spencer says before kissing your lips gently.

--

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! not really sure how i feel about this one, i'm trying to get back into writing more consistently and i'm sure my fics will get better over time, haha.

i totally think spence would be suuuuper protective over reader, so this is totally a plausible scenario. than you again for your request <3

[luveline]

Do you think maybe you could do a quick Miguel fic of him being supportive/comforting to spider-girl cause she’s been working too hard and stretched herself a bit thin trying to make everyone happy? I’ve read all your Miguel stories and it feels like it fits LMAO (I love love love all of your stuff btw you’re one of my fav Miguel writers)

thank you for your request! grumpy miguel comforts a tired spidergirl. 1.2k

Miguel doesn't bother looking down at the thwipping sound of a web connecting with the platform. You're the only person he knows well enough, who knows him well enough, to come up without asking. 

"Woah," you say, pulling yourself onto the platform with altogether too much force, taking a running stumble at him as you try to keep your balance. 

Miguel puts a hand out to catch you without looking away from his screen. "Careful." 

"Thanks, handsome," you croon, though it's missing its signature pep. 

Miguel does look up, then, dragging his attention from the monitors to rake it over you. You have your mask on, which is odd but not unheard of, and your posture is tight. The majority of your weight is being held on one foot, and when he follows your leg upward, your thigh is curving outward. How weird. 

You pull away from him gently and shimmy over to the desk you've stolen, a mountain of your things that topples intermittently lying in wait for your return. As soon as you approach, the flying droid you take on missions whizzes into the air and dances around your shoulders, not unlike the way you move yourself. 

"Come over here," Miguel says. 

"No," you say primly, "you're in a strange mood." 

"You've been here for two seconds," he says. If he were in a strange mood, it's not as if you could've already gathered that from so little observation. 

"Yeah, and you're not usually eager to have me near," you say. True and untrue. 

"Come here." 

You sigh and approach him as though he's dragging you, reeling you in, every footstep heavier than the last. Miguel grabs you by the shoulders when you're close and stations you neatly in front of him, thumb quick to find the seam of your mask and slide beneath. 

You squint at the sudden light of the room, unmasked, though your expression quickly relaxes. "You want to kiss me," you guess, saccharine sweet as you tilt your chin upwards. 

Miguel dodges your feigned kiss. You aren't wrong about what he wants, but you haven't identified his main priority, which is to find out why you'd been wearing the mask in the first place, and why you're walking like your converse shoes are full of cement. 

You're very, very tired, evidently. You look exhausted. Miguel has seen you run down before, you stretch yourself thin often, and you do it without complaint, but this is a new level. His heart actually hurts in his chest, he's that gutted for you. 

Miguel glares at you. "What, you're not sleeping?" 

"Oh, don't, handsome," you say, moving as though you're going to walk away. 

Miguel takes your face into his hand and keeps you where you are. "Hey, answer me." 

"Of course I'm sleeping," you say. You won't meet his eyes. Liar. "You're a tyrant." 

Be that as it may, Miguel wants what's best for you. He draws a line under your dark circles with the pad of his thumb, feeling the puffy skin regretfully. Carefully, so carefully, he traces the line of a tear unshed from the corner of your eye to the corner of your lips. 

"Not enough, then." 

You look at him funny. Your bottom lip twitches, and every ounce of his cool dissipates as you frown and lean forward, pressing your face to his chest. 

"I'm busy," you confess in a murmur, your arms hanging loosely around his waist.

Miguel takes it for I'm really tired. He hesitates, looking down at you, your smaller stature, feeling the weight your letting him hold up for the trust it is. You're tired and you're telling him, even though he had to prod. 

Miguel hugs your shoulders. You sag like a popped balloon. 

"I'm busy," he says, though he amends quickly at the sudden rigidness of your back under his hands, "I'm busy, and I still sleep. You have to sleep." 

"If I want to… to make time for me, I keep staying up late, you know? I've been training, and helping Hobie Brown take down the establishment–"

"What?" 

"–and I was trying to make that cover for your wristband but I keep getting it wrong." You stop suddenly. Your hand screws tighter into his front, fingers digging ineffectual against nanotechnology. "I'm useless, even when I try." 

"Why would you say that?" he asks quietly.

"I can't get things right. I want to do everything. I want to get better at fighting so I can come with you. I want to be a good friend to Hobie. I want to make you things 'cos you deserve them. I'm sorry. I just make everything worse."

Miguel let's you wallow for a moment. He's no stranger to self-loathing. It can feel good to simmer. He rubs your back inchingly slowly, not sure why he's letting himself, not sure why he's holding back. 

Miguel takes your shoulders into his hands and eases you back, ducking his head to meet your eyes. Forcing you to listen. "You don't make anything worse. You're tired, and being tired makes everything feel worse than it is. You're not the problem." 

Your cheek lists down to your shoulder. "You're being nice." 

"You don't have as much effect on things as you think," he says, ducking his head again to look you straight in the eye. "I mean that in a good way. You aren't hurting anyone. You can say no." 

"I don't want to say no." 

"You have to." He's tipping into tenderness now, plummeting fast and hard. "You need to look after yourself if you want to look after other people," he says. He wonders if what he's about to say is fair, but he's so unhappy with your obvious rampant fatigue that he decides he can live with the bad karma. "What if I need you to come with me to the next anomaly recovery? And you're too tired to stand? You'd have me go by myself?" 

"No." 

"Exactly, so do the right thing and sleep." Miguel says it simply, pulling away, pulling back, physically and emotionally. He likes you more than he should but being vulnerable is difficult. He hides behind a facade —your problem is ridiculous, and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. 

You see straight through him. Hear the unsaid please. "I will. I'll go to bed… Thank you, Miguel." 

The facade slips as Miguel gives your bicep a warm squeeze. He turns away from you without another word, redirecting his attention on the screens, your presence like a thrumming he has to fight to ignore. 

"Bye, handsome," you say, stepping sideways off of the platform. He relaxes at the sound of a web sticking and your footsteps as they lead away. 

He rubs the bridge of his nose. 

"Inspiring," Lyla says, appearing from nowhere, a delighted, smarmy smile flickering across her face.

"That is getting so old," Miguel complains.

"Deprogram me, then." 

"Would if I could." 

"Ah, but then who would witness your frankly embarrassing attempts at comfort?" 

Miguel tries to catch her like a moth. She scoffs and leaps between his fingers. 

[heartfullofleeches]

Holiday period at the fast food reader's workplace. Do they have costumes for Halloween? Do anything special for thanksgiving? What about Christmas, do they do something like a secret Santa? Do they all celebrate Reader's birthday/anniversary of them being hired?

I'm fine if you focus on one or do any of them/something unrelated that I haven't thought of. I just want more fast food reader and the gang of nightmares that adore them 😭

(Going with Birthday because I thought of the funniest thing, but maybe Christmas Special in the future?)

Twenty minutes left on the clock.

You shoved your coat and bag beneath the counter before the start of your shift to make for an easy get away. You'd recently invested in a lanyard you keep hidden down your shirt to keep your keys secure and on you at all times. The line was moving quickly thanks to the new hire that had yet to witness the horrors of the establishment. You could probably even get away with leaving without clocking out if you sucked up to your boss enough tomorrow. There would still be consequences, but as long as you could make it through today everything would be fine. Just twenty more minutes...

"Hey..."

A gentle tap on your shoulder draws your ailing mind from the depths of dread this cursed day traps you in. The janitor stands behind you, hands tucked into their pockets. You eye the slight bulge of a square item in their left, but decide its none of your business as you raise a hand in greeting. "Hey. What's up?"

"Not much..." They rock on their heels, more fidgety than usual as their hands shift in their apron pockets. "Hope I'm not bothering you, but I was cleaning up the break room and noticed there was a mark on the calendar with your name on it... It's your birthday today, right?"

Oh no.

No. No. No.

You open your mouth to make up some ahitty excuse, but your tongue remains glued to the floor of your mouth. Your eyes dart towards the boarded doors of the party room as they speak.

"If I had known sooner, I would've gotten you something better, but this was all I could pick up during my break. Honestly, birthdays are a new concept to me, but a lot of things are. You've... helped me learn a lot about myself so I just wanted to say-"

The Janitor pulls their hand from their apron - presenting a yellow box with a bright red bow.

"Happy birthday."

A loud bang shakes the doors of the party room, rocking tower of unused tables and chairs used to keep them closed. You knew they wouldn't be enough to keep what's inside in - a distraction to keep it at bay hopefully giving you enough time to flee. You quickly grab your things and vault over the counter, shoving past customers still waiting patiently in line as another bang knocks down the top layer of defense. Bang. Bang. Bang. Your heart leaps in your chest with every crash of furniture hitting the ground. You force yourself to look ahead as the doors fly open - stale air raising the hairs on your skin. The squeaks of its shoes send chills down your spine - raspy voice crawls in your ears like maggots to a fresh carcass.

"Did I hear it was a certain someone's.. Birthday?..

Against the voices in your head screaming at you to do otherwise, you glance over your shoulders. There are still smudges in its makeup from your last encounter with it dating exactly one year back to this day. You shutter as its twin tongues, still tied in that braid it tried shoved your esophagus snakes over its painted lips.

"No?"

Its smile grows. "You don't have to lie... I have the date written right here... And here...."

The clown points its gangly fingers at its forehead and chest respectively.

"I think you might have my birthday confused with that guy over there."

You pick up your feet as the clown snaps its head in the direction your finger aims. Seeing a blank wall, and hearing your shoes slap against te, it gives chance - crouching on all fours and bounding after you. Its cold hands latch around your ankle, yanking you off balance and towards the party room doors. You scratching at the floor doors, clawing faster as you feel its eyes on you from over its shoulder.

"No! My birthday was last year - I swear!"

"Silly, silly. You have one every year, and it should be celebrated every. Single. Day.... I've got cake!"

[paintedstories]

Y/n was tired of being stuck in the castle, Only being known as the king and queen’s daughter. She wanted to experience the world, So she snuck into the village and met hwang hyunjin, Local troublemaker and peasant. Kinda a jack and rose plot where they don’t like each other at first, but y/n keeps going into the village and they eventually fall for each other, Hyunjin sneaks into the castle during a party and they fuck each other in her room trying not to alert the guards. And also hyunjin being like a huge perv towards reader but in a charming way😭😭

pleaseeee I NEED THIS from ur beautiful mind🙏🏽💕💕

PHILOPHOBIA

♥: Thank you for the request and kind words! 💋💌

⚠: cussing ; weapons; almost caught up s3x ⚠: This is an AU meaning the SKZ band does not exist, and Hyun-Jin does not know any of the members. ⚠: Reader is a female 🚺 She/Her ⚠: Peasant Hwang Hyun-Jin x Royal reader ⚠: SMUT ⚠: Master list 📃 halter*= the design of the top of the dress(go search it up it'll help visualise better)

"Fuck it, I'm done with all this bull-shit," the Daughter of the golden king said to herself, she hated being perfect in the peasant's eye, hated being the pretty image of her mother gold and father golden, hatred was a small word for the sentiment she felt for her family, whom wanted to marry her for money. Dreadful washer life to say the least.

While looking outside the beautiful floral decorated garden an idea came up to her beautiful head, which everyone thought was all but mischief, only innocence could be seen through her eyes, which was a good advantage in the big castle when she had to lie her way out.

And this is how she is in this situation, lying to her father about going to sleep faster than usual and pleading with him to let her leave before the royal dinner, is not like it was something special, just her, her mother, and her father.

Fortunately, he agreed, as she tried to contain the excitement in her eyes she got the front of the dress in her hands and rapidly walked to her room, chuckling slightly when her dad ordered her to walk like a lady.

Closing the door to her room and getting the gown that she had with her own "incapable" regal hands made so she will look like the other peasants. Putting her hair in a messy ponytail and getting the leather shoes she made so the fit will be a total success she looked in the elegant golden framed mirror to see herself, unrecognizable she thought with a smirk. Finally, she will see the world, finally!

Climbing from her beautifully decorated window full of drawings she made of flowers and happy couples who found love by destiny not by the force of family she smiled and jumped on the branch from the big old tree from her childhood that stayed in front of her window as a welcome to escape the prison her golden family called the perfect home and finally be free, for a little while sadly.

Looking down from the tree while making the dress shorter by folding it in a spiral mode and knotting it at the front she jumped on the next tree and the final one that had the branch thick enough to go and jump from the tip on the big stone made barrier that kept her away from the world for so long.

the click of her leather shoes was heart on the rounded stones from the so called unbreakable golden fence.

Her hopes were almost taken away when she saw how far the imperial village was, but seeing a horse-drawn carriage, fortunately, by a peasant and not one of the guards, she jumped on the dirt path and walked rapidly to the peasant while fixing her dress and asked the very kind old man if he could leave her in the center of the village.

the man smiled and gestured for her to go and sit next to him, the man looked kind had blue eyes and a crispy-looking beard, he was bald and had a sun hat that was made of dried hard leaves, the traditional, and in the carriage was dried grass.

They talked and she asked where he was from, she found out he lives in the out-gate of the village but he had work in the center, that's why he accepted to let her come with him.

She found out that he had a beautiful wife and unfortunately event of her miscarriage, but they still hoped and prayed to god to give them a child. She was happy that the first person she meet was so kind, and on the 30 minutes of her listening to the poor man talking about his life, she silently prayed for all the happiness to come to him, when they arrived she hugged him and left the man shocked and smiling as she waved to him and ran to the deeps of the center, where all the people where.

Then she saw a guy with long black hair and dirty white clothes steal from a lady that was paying attention to three singers in the middle, the angry girl ran after him screaming.

"Hey you coward come back, stop stealing!" she screamed after him and when he turned on his track to look at the screaming girl he got annoyed and angry, who was she to scream after him!?! he just glared at her and showed her the middle finger while he kept running, thinking he will lose her and eat the sweet he stole from that hag, little did he know that she was trained and she had the stamina of a soldier. when he thought he lost her he turned to look behind him while jogging and saw that she was still running after him.

"What THE FUCK! WOMAN, STOP FOLLOWING ME" he screamed while he continued to run and slowly start to gasp for air, realizing that he was going nowhere he jumped onto wooden casks, but when his foot touched the cask he flew on the floor, as they were empty and very old, meaning, very fragile.

She watched as he fell on his ass grunting and rubbing his back, she then rush walked to him and punched him in the face. "what was that for?!" he screamed while rubbing the part of his face where she punched him. "for being a coward thief and not getting a job like normal humans and living in poverty because you're lazy and a coward" she repeated the word coward to him twice because of the anger she felt, she hated cowards, and hated thief's even more!

"How can you live like this!" she screamed at him. He truly didn't know the answer himself, for a second you could see the pain in his eyes as he registers the harsh words of the girl.

"fuck off, you don't know anything... stupid woman" he pushed her off of him and then handed her a hand to get up and she, unfortunately, accepted, when she got up half a meter he let her hand go and she fell with a squeak, cute, he thought before shaking bis head and smirking while gesturing to her that now she could trust him by grabbing his hand but he did not grab it, instead she swatted his hand away with anger "fucking peasant" she muttered under her breath while getting up and leaving the boy dumbfounded.

she started walking away from him, mumbling to herself while patting the hem of her dress and sleeves.

but he wasn't having none of her stubborn attitude and with his long feet slowly walked to her, with a mischievous smirk.

"you're new here, never seen such a stubborn lady around here," he said while grabbing her by the waist. Swatting his hand away and walking further ahead without responding to him. He just shrugged his shoulders and walked ahead, feeling annoyed about the girl not being like the others.

Y/n decided to ignore the boy, as she said in her mind.

"he is not worth enough to deal with, I have to see other things than talk with a thief" and she continued her adventure through the village, for another 1 hour and a quarter when she came back to the castle fortunately with the same man as when she left, she found out he goes to the village every day. "perfect," she thought, she will sneak out and go with the man.

for the past three days, Y/n kept sneaking out, of course, her family thought it was weird how all of a sudden she was happy, but glad she was they did not disturb her with unanswerable questions.

as the day's passed of the beautiful girl sneaking out of the palace in the village, sometimes (quite often) meeting with the handsome boy, whose name was Hwang Hyun-Jin, she found out after an unfortunate encounter of him bumping into her the 100th time, she could confidently say, he became more and more annoying, she hated him and knew he hated her too, always pinching her waist or taking a bit of her hair and yanking it. He was the dear devil.

it was the 35th day of her sneaking out, keeping track of her sneakings was always good, of course very well hidden under a plank of wood of her floor.

the sneaking went as it always went, no one said, saw, or discovered anything, or she thought so.

but while being in the village, walking without any thought where, she started thinking about tomorrow's party, again needing to act as the perfect spoiled princess, glad could say she was that only royals would be, but as fast as she entered her thoughts a rather someone or a one rather annoying Hwang interrupted her thoughts. "Oh hello ~ There princess" he purred in her neck as he circled her, how did he know?! she thought scared but without showing an expression.

"Come on Princess, I've known from our first encounter, knew something was different with you," he said while sneaking his arm around her shoulder making her feel trapped. "and what if I am?!" she said annoyed. "nothing, nothing, just curious what a spoiled princess would want to do around here" rolling her eyes she swatted his hand away and went back to the man who she saw was going to his horse carriage and hoped in with a huff after of course greeting the old man.

Laughing slightly the man made the horses start walking and in no time she was at the back of the palace after he left she started climbing on her spot, but little did she know that a certain someone was watching her.

and as fast as that, the next day came and everyone was on alert to get ready, themself and the party.

and as the days always pass, the party came too, after the dinner, where she should have been, she could excuse herself in her room, as always, only the face, nothing more, only a pretty face.

Walking towards her room in the annoyingly long hall while huffing she finally arrived in her room and after closing the door and lighting a candle as it was getting dark she heard shuffling from her window when she turned to look around she almost screamed but the stranger slapped his hand accidentally too hard around her mouth while turning her around with her back to his chest.

"shh princess, we don't want anyone hearing us now do we?" he said, his breath tickling her neck sending shudders down her spine. "what, do you want?"

she manages to mutter after removing his hand from her mouth. "Oh, nothing sweetheart, I just, came here to get a taste from the mysterious girl" he smirked behind her while he kept holding the scared aroused girl in his strong grip, making her feel trapped.

He took her breath away when she was thrown into her bed by the man, and started kissing her hungrily, he told himself that if she wouldn't kiss him bake he would leave her, but she started kissing him and grabbing his hair.

When the girl started moaning, he knew he could continue.

Smirking into the kiss he motioned to her that he wanted her Halter, when she nodded he removed it and started kissing her chest making her whimper, slowly sliding down to grab the corset and untie it from behind her after making her stand in a sitting position and freeing her from the dress.

Seeing her naked body made him even more hungered by the girl. Kissing her softly on the lips then going down to her chest and tummy like a starved man, making you whimper and shakily call his name. "shh, sweetheart, don't let them hear you" he smirked while moving his hand down to your undergarments making your legs close. "no need to close your legs on me, I desire to see all of you, my dove" he said then slowly entered her making her whimper. " I love you my dove, every since- ngh fuck- I saw you" Her eyes widened, and cummed instantly after hearing him confess to her, he started pounding into her harder after feeling her clench on him and hearing her heavenly moans, few more thrusts and he got out cumming on her stomach while his eyes rolled to the back of his head and whimpered then let half of his weight fall on your body.

*knock*

*knock*

*knock*

"mistress is everything alright, I heard a moan of pain."

"oh n-no Brunhilde I just stumbled my toe to the leg of the bed, haha you know how clumsy I get when I'm tired, no need to check on me, you can leave, and tell the others not to disturb me as I'm going to my much-needed slumber!* she said trying o sound normal. only if her maid knew what happened. fortunately the maid left, leaving the two alone.

"so mistress what are we?" he said with a smirk moving his face at the crock of her neck and kissing her while leaving a hickey at the back of her neck not visible when having her hair down.

"I don't know, my father would never let me marry you..." she said with sadness in her voice and eyes.

he hugged her back to his chest and kissed her naked shoulder while moving his left hand soothingly on her waist up to her underboob and down to her ass.

"lets run" he said with devotion in his voice.

OH my god hi love!!

I'm sorry for responding so late but I loved the ask so much that I had to remake it 3 times haha.

If you liked it please reblog, it helps a lot ♥

[dualdeixis]

[Image description: Digital drawings of two original characters in black and white. The Ferrier wears a black, wide-brimmed hat; a shirt with puffy sleeves and an embroidered collar, cuffs, and hem; a vest with geometric patterns; a black, sleeveless overcoat with two lighter stripes near the hem; loose pants; and black sandals. They appear to have short, messy black hair, and their hat casts a shadow over their eyes.

The Sacrifice's clothes are almost entirely white and intricately embroidered. They wear a loose, long-sleeved shirt; a cropped and wide-collared vest which is buttoned together; dimije (voluminous pants which are gathered at the ankle); a cap with coins sewn into the sides; a very long veil which ends in tassels and is pinned to the cap; a necklace of coins; a belt of large metallic roundels; and black shoes. They have long, curly black hair and several moles on their face.

In the first drawing, the Ferrier stands while wringing their hands with an extremely flat expression. The Sacrifice stands behind them and carries a bag, looking off to the side with a small smile.

Next is a comic featuring the two of them, with all of the speech bubbles being cut out from Discord screenshots. There are full descriptions of all of the pages under the cut. End image description.]

first drawing based on this painting of a peasant and nun going to the market by amedeo preziosi; comic based on a convo between me and @wildcatfourteen that reads uncannily like our ocs LOL. happy birthday my friend <33

[Image description: Page one. The Ferrier has a small smirk as they point to an image which reads, "some of y'all would melt down in this situation. ONE HAS GOT TO GO: THE EYE, THE FORMLESS, THE ECSTATIC, THE SUN, THE WOUND, THE EGG." The Sacrifice replies with a carefree smile, "how can you choose ?? are they not all as g_d ordained ??" The next panel shows that the two are sitting on opposite sides of a rowboat, which is stopped at the bank of a river going through a forest. The Sacrifice says, "i mean i guess if youre talking like which motifs i personally like to use in my hymns … i dont do much with the egg so that one" The Ferrier frowns and says, "I don't know if I can forgive u for saying that. Egg… U GET RID OF EGG?" The Sacrifice: "WHICH ONE WOULD U GET RID OF??" The Ferrier: "The ecstatic"

Page two. The Sacrifice stares in astonished silence for a moment, and then says with a cartoony vein popping from their cheek, "I think ur saying that on purpose to piss me off. to get back at me for saying ehg. Why do u hold such hate in your heart" The Ferrier closes their eyes and says nonchalantly, "I'm sorry it's not out of hate." They look off to the side and mutter, "Except u started this with ur egg slander" The Sacrifice glares at them with dismay and says, "THE HATE IN YOUR HEART IS OVERTAKING YOU" The Ferrier glares back, smiling through gritted teeth, and replies, "LOOK IN THR MIRROR"

Page three. The Ferrier pinches the bridge of their nose and says, "I can't believe this is what's causing an argument" The Sacrifice puts their hands on their hips and snaps, "I WASNT EVEN SLANDERING EGGS? IM JUST SAYING PERSONALLY IF YOU FORCED ME? I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST EGGS I EAT THEM ALL THE TIME" The Ferrier: "ITS NOT ABOUT EATINF THEM EVEN THO THEY ARE DELICIOUS AND VERSATILE." They roll their eyes and add, "Sorry for wanting to shatter my shell and be birthed anew" The Sacrifice clasps their hands together with a smile, their eyes hidden by their speech bubble, and says, "see thats the thing for me there is no rebirth only resurrection . its not dying and being birthed anew its about dying and then undying . coming back from death with none of the catharsis of newness just being forced to hold on to the old and what you once were ." The Ferrier pulls their hat down over their eyes and argues, "You say that and yet that is the whole point there is never any real birth of newness but just the illusion of it and the necessity to keep that illusion bc there is no coming back anew but taking whatever dead pieces u have and reconstructing some choppy form of a fresh creature"

Page four. The two sit in silence for a moment. Then the Ferrier says matter-of-factly, "Just like how ecstatic state is fake" The Sacrifice glares at them and says, "how DARE you say ecstatic state is fake ." The background turns black as the Ferrier's eyes go wide, gazing dramatically down at the viewer. They thunder, "ITS TEMPORARY" The Sacrifice, also on a black background, holds their palms up with an ecstatic grin. One of their eyes is teary and a bright halo flashes around their head. They answer, "AS ARE ALL THINGS."

Page five. The Ferrier, looking irritated with a cartoony vein popping from their temple, says, "fine. Fine whatever." They turn away with gritted teeth. "I'm gonna go in my egg shell and not come out EVER !!!!" The Sacrifice smiles with a thumbs up and says, "ok you do that im gonna be out here achieving union with the Beloved 👍" The Ferrier turns as far away from the Sacrifice as they can and crosses their arms. "U go do that. Hmph!" The Sacrifice does the same. "HMPH -_-" A school of black fish swims through the river. A line at the bottom of the panel reads, "THEY STAYED LIKE THIS FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS." End image description.]

[wheels-of-despair]

Can't Help Falling In Love Pairing: Michael (Hoard) x You Summary: You hit it off with someone else's date at a wedding. Contains: Instant attraction, horny thoughts, Elvis covers, ditched dates, and the beginning of a happily ever after. Words: 3.5k

Youths and ageless blogs, Do Not Interact. Writer WILL block you.

"Oh god, she's actually brought the bin man."

"Hm?" you hum, forcing your eyes to slide back into focus.

Charlie, your boyfriend of 3 months, has dragged you to a cousin's wedding. You're seated at a gaudy table in a venue that's probably bankrupted the bride's parents. You're bored, you're sick of smiling politely each time you're introduced to someone who won't even pretend they're attempting to learn your name, and you're seriously considering just walking out and catching a cab and blocking this guy's number. Why are you even here?

"My cousin Chloe," he says under his breath. "She's dating a dustbin man. Mum didn't think she'd be brave enough to actually bring him. But she's such a horrific bitch, perhaps the bin man is the only one who can stomach her. This should be fun. Hello, my darling cousin!" He stands and embraces her. Her date stands awkwardly at her side in an ill-fitting suit, looking almost as happy to be here as you are.

Polite introductions are made, and the couple joins you at your table.

"So Michael, what do you do for work?" Charlie asks. So much for subtlety. Chloe glares. Michael shifts uncomfortably.

"I'm a b--"

"He's a businessman," she cuts him off. Her date stares at the tacky centerpiece.

"Oh? What kind of business?" You wonder if your heel has the power to penetrate Charlie's fancy dress shoes and draw blood.

"Erm…" Michael bites his lip.

"Finance," she answers for him, giving her cousin a chilling glare before turning her icy eyes to you. "And you, dearie? What sort of business are you in?"

You hate these fucking people.

Before you can answer, someone makes a noisy entrance that draws everyone's attention.

"Oh, Aunt Margie's here, let's go say hi!" Chloe exclaims. She and Charlie get up and scurry away toward an old lady, leaving you and Michael at the table alone. After an awkward smile and a moment of silence, you have to break it.

"Been together long?" you ask.

"A few months," he mutters. "You?"

"Same," you answer.

Silence.

"Glad we weren't the last to arrive," Michael says. Good, he's feeling this silence too.

"I was worried about us being late too," you smile. "What's your excuse?"

"She couldn't decide which shoes to wear."

"That's probably a more socially acceptable reason than mine," you laugh. "Couldn't get my door to close."

Michael's brow furrows.

"It sticks sometimes, but today, it just would not close," you explain. "Charlie yanked and yanked and finally got it to shut. If I can't get back in, I'm gonna kick his ass."

"He hasn't tried to fix it for you?"

"Does he look like the rugged handy-man type to you?"

You and Michael both look toward your dates, who are giggling in a crowd of their finely dressed relatives in an attempt to secure their surely sizeable inheritance, then back to each other to share a smirk. He belongs here about as much as you do.

"Any idea what's causing it?" he asks.

"No," you answer. "I keep meaning to look closer, but every time I'm headed out, I'm usually in a hurry. And it works fine when I come home, so I say I'll do it tomorrow… and then forget about it until it sticks again."

"A vicious cycle," he smiles, warm and teasing. You laugh, feeling more relaxed now than you have all night. "I'd start by making sure the hinges and the strike plate are tight. Do you have a screwdriver?"

"The fuck do you know about home repair?" Chloe spits from behind him. The smile on his face fades, and his eyes drift down to the table. It's like she pressed a button and shut him down.

The cousins sit back down and talk loudly about their crazy aunt, but their words don't register. You can't take your eyes off of Michael. The look on his face makes your heart ache. How do you fix it?

"That's a really good idea, about the hinges and the strike plate," you tell him quietly. He looks up at you slowly, caution shining in his big brown eyes. "I'll check those out as soon as I get home. Thank you."

He gives you a tiny smile. You want to crush him in a hug.

Wait, what?

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asks.

"My door," you answer shortly, finally breaking eye contact with Michael to survey the room full of people you don't know.

"And Michael the businessman knows how to fix it?" Charlie asks smugly. Michael's face flushes red, his eyes downcast once again. Chloe glares at her cousin.

"He had a helpful suggestion, which is more than I can say for Mr. I Don't Know, Call A Professional," you quip.

That shuts him up.

"Would every one take their seats, please, so the ceremony can begin!" someone yells from the other side of the room.

Everyone returns to their seats and quiets down, and the ceremony begins. A song plays on an organ, a bride is walked down an aisle in the distance, old ladies dab at their eyes… probably. Your attention is on the bead of sweat rolling down Michael's thick neck.

What if you just leaned over and licked it away?

He looks over at you, as if he knows what you're thinking, and smiles. Now it's your turn to blush. You force your eyes in whatever direction you imagine the vows are being exchanged and hope he hasn't actually read your mind. What the fuck is wrong with you?

When the ceremony is over, everyone stands as the bride and groom leave the room together. Sweat still drips down Michael's neck. The collar of that stiff suit must be drenched.

"Charlie! Chloe!" someone shouts from across the room, snapping you out of it.

The cousins get up without a word, leaving you alone with Michael again. Normally you'd be offended by their rudeness, but right now, you don't mind at all.

"I'm sorry about him," you say quietly. "And her too, now that I think about it."

"S'alright," he mumbles.

"It's not," you argue. "They're both being dicks. And to the only person I even like at this stupid thing."

He smiles, showing off his dimples. Adorable.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," he complains, pulling at his collar.

"Want to go outside for a bit?" you ask.

He looks toward the cousins, who are laughing with a crowd of people you have no interest in meeting.

"I think they've already forgotten we're here," you laugh.

"Let's go, then," he grins.

You grab your purse and follow him out of the crowded building, staying close as you dart past all the mingling friends and relatives, until you reach a shady spot on the backside of the building.

"Thought I was going to die in there," he pants, fighting with his tie. "How do you get this stupid thing…"

"May I?" you ask. He nods. You step closer and begin untying his tie. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. He's pulled it tight, making it harder to get undone, but you don't mind taking your time. "There we go," you say softly, letting it hang loose. He reaches for the top button and struggles in his hurry to get it open. Your hands rise to his collar once more, moving his fumbling fingers aside and quickly unbuttoning several buttons to reveal a simple chain necklace and a smattering of freckles. He gasps for air dramatically.

"Better?" you ask, reluctantly dropping your hands back to your sides.

"My hero," he grins, glistening in the light of the setting sun.

God, what is this fucker doing to you?

The band starts warming up inside, and you both instinctively glance in the direction you came from.

"Should we go back?" he asks, suddenly nervous. "She's going to kill me for soaking this suit."

"What if we don't?" you ask.

His eyes flick to yours, and your heart stops. Why did you say that? He's literally on a date with with someone else! So are you!

"What if we don't?" he repeats slowly.

You stare at each other. Those big brown eyes have a hold on you. You feel like you're falling into them. Like Alice down the rabbit-hole. The smell of him swirls through your brain like a fog; he's sweaty, but not in an unpleasant way. It mixes with whatever cheap cologne he's splashed on to make something unmistakably male. It's intoxicating. You don't realize you're actually moving closer together until your lips meet his. They're so soft. They work with yours, not against them, in a dance that weakens your knees and makes your heart flutter.

A shrill laugh nearby brings you back to reality. You're suddenly aware that you're pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. You take a step back and glance around nervously, wondering if you were seen. You can hear other people talking around the corner, and smell the pungent flowers growing on the walkway nearby. The band is playing something vaguely familiar. You listen closer, and recognition dawns on both of your faces at the same time: "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis Presley.

Without a word, Michael reaches for your hand. You slowly take it, and place your other hand on his shoulder; his comes to rest in the small of your back. You begin to sway with the song, just the tiniest bit, never taking your eyes off of his. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. There's something about the intensity of his gaze that makes you forget everything else. There is only Michael.

And his rock-hard erection that you just brushed against.

"Fuck," he groans and backs away, "I'm sorry."

Your eyes glance downward to the python he's trying to conceal, then back to his eyes.

"You want to get out of here?" you ask.

He stares at you for a few seconds, eyes wide and fearful. Did you blow it? Of course you blew it, you both came here with other people. They may be dicks, and you've been thinking about breaking up with him for weeks anyway, but…

"You're serious?"

Fuck it. You nod. So does he. And then you both laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

"I, er… I rode here with her," he mumbles, chewing on his lip.

A wicked thought occurs to you, and you dig in your purse and pull out a valet ticket.

"Guess who shoved his valet ticket in my face while he was ogling a pretty blonde he's probably related to?"

"He did not," Michael says, taking offense on your behalf.

"It's alright," you smile. "It all worked out in the end."

Michael grins.

"Come on," you laugh, reaching for his hand. You take the long way around and eventually find the valet lot. You hand over your ticket and wait for your ex-boyfriend's car to arrive.

"Woah," Michael says when the ugly sports car comes into view.

"Daaaddy bought it for him," you roll your eyes. "Wanna drive?"

"What?" His eyes dart from the approaching car to you. "Really?"

You shrug.

"You serious?" he asks.

"I mean, you can drive, right? You've got a license?"

"Yeah?"

"Then what's the problem? Scared to defile two of Charlie's possessions in the same night?"

He seems stunned for a moment, then a grin grows on his pretty face as the car comes to a stop.

"No problem at all, miss," he smiles, darting forward to open the passenger door for you. You sink down into the seat, he gently closes the door. He thanks the valet and hands the man a few bills. You fasten your seatbelt to keep yourself from slipping and sliding all over the leather seat.

He gets in and looks around, trying to get his bearings in the strange little vehicle. He inspects the gear shift and locates the turn signals, then pets the steering wheel and looks at you with a child-like grin on his face. You lean back against the headrest and sigh fondly, never wanting to take your eyes off of him. He's adorable.

"Where to?" he asks, straightening and suddenly serious.

You point him in the direction of home, and he takes off. He's a little awkward at first, but he gets the hang of the car in no time. He even grows confident enough to drive with one hand, and rests the other on your leg. The feeing of his rough, calloused hand on your smooth thigh nearly drives you mad. The ride takes entirely too long, and you admire your self-restraint for not telling him to pull over and take you on the hood of this tiny, stupid car.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally parks near your building. He turns off the engine, takes a deep breath, and looks at you with uncertainty.

"You still want to do this?" you ask quietly, praying that he says yes.

"You have no fucking idea."

"Let's go, gorgeous," you order.

He leaps out of the car and rushes around to open your door for you. He helps you out and follows you into your building. You make it up the steps and fumble with your keys, cursing your stupid door that won't open. You're about to offer to let him take you in the hallway when he gently moves you aside, applies pressure on the knob with his hands, and pushes with his shoulder. The door pops open.

As soon as you step inside, his mouth is on yours. You drop your purse and kick the door shut, and he pushes you up against it. You moan into his mouth. You can't remember the last time you wanted anyone this bad. And that includes the entirety of the relationship you've just abandoned.

There's no time to walk all the way to the bed. Hell, there's no time to shuffle to the couch. He takes you against the door the first time, your dress rucked up and his pants unzipped. He ruts into you with such force, you wonder if it's going to break the door in half. And then he reaches a spot inside of you that you didn't know existed, and you stop caring about anything but him.

You lose the rest of your clothes and make it to the couch for round two.

You don't make it to the bed until round three.

That's when it happens.

You'd happily stare into those beautiful brown eyes all night long, but he hits a rhythm that has you both squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. All you can do is grip whatever's in reach and hold on tight as you feel your release build… and build… and build…

And then a blinding flash of pleasure washes over you. You've never felt anything like it before. Is this what writers mean when they say someone saw stars? Michael keeps pumping in and out of you, and the feeling doesn't stop. An ungodly noise rises in your throat, and he buries his face in your neck and comes with a grunt and one final thrust, his deepest yet.

Your ecstasy fades slowly. You can't move. You can't focus on anything but the way he makes you feel. You lie there, panting and sticking together for several minutes, until he finally raises his head to look at you. You both laugh when you make eye contact.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," you breathe, feeling weak and a little confused.

"Never had that happen before."

"Never had what happen before?" you ask.

"Made a girl squirt."

It hits you like a ton of bricks. You raise your head and see that you are indeed lying in a wet spot on the sheets.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you laugh as your head hits the pillow.

"I mean, I've tried, but…" he shrugs, looking embarrassed.

You reach a hand into his sweaty curls and pull him in for a kiss. He looks happy, but confused when he pulls away.

"I've never had a guy do that to me before, either."

"Seriously?" His eyes are ablaze.

"Yeah," you laugh.

"That was a first for both of us?"

You nod, basking in the excitement on his face that you helped create. He leans back down for another kiss, which you enthusiastically return. When he pulls back, you can't help but feel disappointed. You cup the side of his face and stroke his cheek with your thumb, not ready to be apart just yet. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. Will you ever be able to get enough of him?

"Wanna try for a second?" you ask.

"Oh fuck," he moans, coming back down to continue your kiss, already getting hard again.

While you're recovering from another blissfully successful round, someone starts banging on your door.

At 2:37 am.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you gripe, rolling out of bed and throwing on the first clothes you can get your hands on. Michael looks terrified. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about him," you tease, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "I'll be right back.

You leave Michael in bed and stomp to the door. You know exactly who it is. "What?" you snap through the door, reaching up quietly to engage the chain lock. Just in case he's grown a pair in the last few hours.

"You fuckin' left me, that's what!" Charlie roars.

"And it only took you all night to notice!" you chirp sarcastically.

"Is the fucking bin man in there with you?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I fucking knew it! You nasty whores deserve each other!"

"You kiss your boss's ass with that mouth?"

"Open the door."

"It's stuck."

He groans loudly and kicks it.

"Yeah, that'll help," you deadpan. "What do you want?"

"I want my shit, you crazy bitch! We're done!"

"Ask me nicely."

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

You laugh and leave him to his tantrum as you fetch a paper grocery bag and begin shoving his stuff inside: body wash, deodorant, razor, a few articles of clothing and a shirt that you'd definitely used to sop up some of the fluids you and Michael had leaked onto the mattress.

Michael sits on the bed with the sheet wrapped around his waist, looking fearful. You give him a wink before you leave the room. You pick up some of the clothes you'd scattered across the living room floor, looking for the car keys, and finally locate them underneath Michael's pants. You toss the keys in the bag, fold the top down, and grip the knob. You open the door just enough to slide the bag through.

"There's your shit. Don't come back."

And then you shut the door in his stunned face, lock it, and return to bed.

Michael still looks nervous. You crawl into his lap and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Don't worry about him," you smile, "he's a spoiled brat who throws tantrums whenever he doesn't get his way, but he's harmless. Rich kids can't fight for shit. You, though? I bet you could scrap with the best of 'em."

Michael bites his lip and stares off to the side. You cup his face and stroke his cheeks, wishing he'd tell you what's bothering him.

"You know I'm not really a businessman, right? I'm just a bin man."

You laugh and capture his lips in a kiss, remembering to mumble an "I know, baby," at some point, which makes his whole body relax. You fall back onto the bed together, limbs tangled and mouths hungry.

You ride him 'til dawn.

The pair of you finally begin to wind down as the sun starts to rise. You lie facing each other, satisfied and sticky and too tired to do anything about it. You wish you could stare into those beautiful eyes forever, but sleep is calling you.

"If you want to clear out before I wake up, it's alright. I'll understand," you say softly. Inside, you're screaming and begging him to stay. But what if he doesn't feel the same?

He thinks about it for a minute, biting his bottom lip. "Would it be alright if I stayed?" he asks, almost like he's afraid of the answer. The feeling of relief that floods through you is so intense, you wonder if you're going to pass out. "I can fix your door in the morning," he adds quickly, like he needs a reason to stay.

"You don't have to do that," you smile. Worry clouds his face. "But if you really wanted to, I'm sure I could find some way to repay you," you smirk. His eyes widen. "Would it be alright if I made you breakfast?"

Now it's his turn to be relieved. He smiles and throws an arm over you to pull you closer.

"Would it be alright if I never, ever left?" he mumbles into your hair.

"Yeah," you sigh, getting comfortable in his embrace. "That'd be alright."

[formerheroeswhoquittoolate]

deep breath I've got thoughts about the daredevil show because I think they have the opportunity to do the most daredevil thing possible and I really really want them to do it. (edit: this post is about sam chung/blindspot by the way, sorry to anyone who reblogged it thinking it was about like. spiderman or whatever)

the thing about daredevil is that a lot of his really good stories (at least in my opinion) are tragedies. karen page's death. elektra's death. that whole thing where he has a great life being out as matt murdock And daredevil but it's actually shit and the purple children have to put the cat back in the bag. killing a guy and going to jail. becoming a catholic priest who runs a foster home and still never being free from daredevil. basically the entirety of charles soule's daredevil run. "unavoidably bad things happen to matt murdock/daredevil because he is matt murdock And because he is daredevil" is kind of the name of the game.

matt has depression. even when things are going well, there's a weight to daredevil stories. he -- and we -- are all just. waiting. for the other shoe to drop.

look at me. what if there was a young vigilante that daredevil was training. what if he was trying to help the kid become a hero, protect his neighborhood like daredevil protects hell's kitchen. what if matt grows to like the kid, starts looking after him, gets him a job when he gets injured. begins to trust him. the kid becomes a light in the dark story that daredevil always has. irreverent and determined and utterly brilliant.

but we know what's coming.

do you see what I'm saying? can you see the proverbial sword of damocles, hanging over the narrative? the unavoidable catastrophe that is just a few episodes away? the knowledge that we are going to watch this kid lose his eyes, lose his family, and get nothing in return for his intelligence and perseverance and loss.

the tragedy of daredevil is not in plot twists. it's in inevitability. the long fingers of grief, the anticipation of more trials to come. matt is job, ceaselessly tested to see if he is worthy of an imitation of what he once had. he is peter, drawing a sword to protect something he doesn't fully understand, something they will kill him for in the end. daredevil stories do not have happy endings, and the tragedy is contagious.

all this to say: I hope sam chung ends up in daredevil: born again, exactly as he is in soule's original run. I hope we get to see him fly as blindspot, and I hope the inevitable fall is foreshadowed. I hope the first time we see blindspot, he's saving three people. I hope he gets two black eyes in a fight. I hope there are tricks of the light that make his eyes glow blue or appear entirely gone. I hope he borrows matt's iconic glasses and makes a joke about going blind. I hope we are forced to remember his tragedy every time we see him.

put him in the show, cowards

[snakeunderyourboot]

I listened to red valley and it completely destroyed me, what the fuck was that

I draw this like in a couple of hours and already started small fic about them, the brainrot is happening

anyway, I both intentionally and unintentionally draw some details that I can't stop thinking about, and I'm going to talk about them under the cut. Try to find it all by yourself before opening the cut!

Warren is lying with his hands on his stomach similar to a corpse. the cryo pod is his coffin.

I feel like it's sort of obvious that hypersleep is a metaphor for death. I wouldn't even say it's a metaphor, it's written in a big neon light. And the idea that Warren chooses to go into hypersleep, again and again, is him choosing the idea of dying numerous times. Yeah, we can say that it's not his choosing, it's Bryony making him go there, but still. The guy never fights it. That why he is smiling and looks away from Gordon/reality and more into deep of cryopod. He is content with this decision, he is happy.

It is hard to see, but there is a silhouette of Snow Angel under Warren. To emphasize it even more, the light that falls on Warren face looks like a halo

Even more into the whole idea of hypersleep being death analogy. Honestly, I would slap two coins onto Warren's face if I could, but I can't, so he gets a show angel and a halo.

the snow from cryopod is so strong that you can't even see where cryopod ends.

The snow also overtooks everything it could reach. Only Gordon is able to get through it, but he is still unable to reach either the borders of cryopod or Warren himself. But he is still reaching to him, even though he can't get to him

The wires around Gordon make an imitation of a cryopod, similar to Warren's, or a coffin.

The wires are all around Gordon emphasizing that he is also trapped the same as Warren. We so often overlook Gordon's trauma, because his life was ALSO changed in a single day. On top of that, he is forced to work under people who are actively hurting his first best friend. Every time Warren goes into cryo pod can be his last and all Gordon can do is watch and hope for the best. Also wink wink to season 2 finale

yes, the shirt on top of Gordon belongs to Warren

there is a red light that is especially bright near Gordon's stomach

The laces on Goron's shoes are green and yellow because I associate those colors with Warren and Gordon

they both look like they are buried. Like they ar both in coffins. They are both dead. They are not in one coffin because of everything that is between them, but they are still together

[seaweedbraens]

Hi! I've been following your fics for a few years now and I was just wondering, do you have any tips for new writers? Specifically for fics that is. Any advice from planning a fic outline to just general writing advice would be hella appreciated!!

hello!!! welcome to fic, we're super happy to have you here <3 i'd love to drop you some 'tips' (i am using quotes because i am not sure if im qualified to give advice - and i'm not sure if it'll work, but here is what works for me!)

when i outline fics, i almost always know what my starting and ending is. i've definitely mentioned this before but i always always know my endling LINE, i dont start writing a fic if i don't know where it's gonna end up. again, this may not be you, so dont panic if it isn't! this is just how i begin.

since my fics are on the...ahem, lengthier side, i usually have 'sections' of content between my beginning and end. i write down (usually by hand, but it doesnt matter what you use tbh) significant 'events' or 'goals' of the section. for instance, as i was writing my bigfic (we could walk straight through hell (with a smile)) one of my chapter outlines looked like this:

since this fic used multiple character POVs, i also made sure to label which section was being seen through which character's eyes. sometimes, as i'm making my sections, i'll get inspiration for dialogue, and i include that too. as you can see above, i also highlighted sections as i completed them, though that's just more to keep track than anything else.

i wish i could give you more insight into writing, but really the biggest piece of advice i can give is to keep reading. reading fic is good but reading books is even better because you'll learn so many words, absorb so many kinds of writing styles, and learn what you like and what you don't like and patterns that you'll settle into. i have to confess i dont read much these days, which i need to change, but i used to be a voracious reader, and that definitely helped me as a writer.

i've been writing fic for a long time, though. so when it comes to writing fic in particular, i am a huge advocate for a couple of things (and these are pretty general, not necessarily writing-related):

don't force yourself to write!! sometimes you just arent feeling it and thats okay. i write in insane spurts - as i wrote wcwsthwas i occasionally pumped out 10k in a single sitting - but i go months and months without writing in between. if you're in a rut i don't think you need to force yourself out of it, because more often than not i've found myself dissatisfied with my work when i do force myself to write. as creatives, burnout is common, but because this is fic we're lucky enough that we operate on our own schedule. we don't need to push ourselves to write if we don't have to. but trust me, when you feel the urge to start writing again, it's wonderful, and the words will flow out of you!! just make sure you

stay inspired! again, reading good books helps you expand your own vocabulary, and it'll come in handy when you find yourself needing to write descriptions. observe the world around you, learn movements and expressions and how things and people tick. explore writing prompts and see what inspires you best (i took one look at soulmate au prompts and never looked back). it's cool to be inspired by fellow creatives online (just make sure to give credit if needed) but also try to be inspired by yourself! a lot of my fics stem from my own experiences and thoughts and emotions, and i think to some degree that resonates with people, which is always great. try to examine things on a deeper level. draw on memories from your own life and they'll hit more often than they miss. think about what makes your hurt, and rage, and cry, and flinch, and smile. remember the little things that make interactions so special. when you put yourself in a character's shoes in a certain situation, question why they'd act or react a certain way. and make sure

you do you. if your work doesn't sound beautiful and prose-y, that's fiiine. it's okay to keep it simple!! it was a bitter pill to swallow and it took me many years, but i have finally realized that my strengths as a writer are in my dialogue and emotional dump-writing. i don't think i'll be ever to be one of those poetic writers who can pull words from the trails of your thoughts like a some kind of sick magical literary genius. i have some friends who just. they write so BEAUTIFULLY and i'm so envious of them, but that's their strength, and i have my own. remember that!! and please for the love of god

don't worry about stats. write for YOU. this may sound lofty but i can't stress this enough. i was unfortunate to start writing fic when i was very young, and as a competitive little brat i was obsessed with the numbers. i desperately tracked every comment and like and favorite and follow. i let that dictate my writing, because i knew that if i wrote a certain way, made fics extra fluffy or whatever, they'd draw in more comments. i'd force myself to write more, update fics to show how active i was as an author in the fandom, and in the end, that truly sucked out the joy of writing for me. i found other ways to channel my creativity for a long time and then returned to writing. now, i write when inspiration strikes, and to my surprise and joy people still want to read. i love when a fic does well, but it doesn't debilitate me if it doesn't. writing for yourself, and for the love of a good story, and for the love of the source material, and for the love of writing, will make you a better writer. and on that note:

quantity does not equal quality. i've been asked quite a bit how i write such long fic but that's largely because i like to read long fic. i like it when a story is build up and fleshed out and you end up knowing everything about everyone. i like drawing out moments, giving characters depth and thoughts and relationships. a lot of my fics are full of extra padding that goes into building character relationships and friendships, because as an only child they are super important to me. HOWEVER there is real fucking skill required to write a short fic. to fit a beginning and middle and end into the least amount of words possible. it's incredible, it's a skill i wish i had, and deserves every laurel that long fics get. as a writer, if you find your fic ending earlier than expected, that's fine. you don't need to add more words just for the sake of puffing up the wordcount. at the end of the day, if your story shines, that's all that matters, and readers will respond to it.

im not sure if this will help you but this is kind of the bulk of what i've learned all these years writing fic. at the end of it all, what works for me may not at all work for you, but i'm certain that with time, you'll find your groove and carve out a niche for yourself, just as we all have. just remember: have fun! the internet is batshit and sometimes not the best place but my time writing fic has exposed me to the most wonderful people. writing will help you learn and grow in ways you won't be able to foresee now - just go with the flow and take it all in as it comes! be positive, accept critique and feedback and learn from it, and stay enthusiastic about telling your stories. feel free to message me anytime, and please drop a link to your fic if you ever post :) i'd love to read it!

sorry for the late response, and for making you read this NOVEL, holy shit. haaave a good day/night <3

[pomplalamoose]

If you are ever down I would love your take on a Luke with a ND partner, maybe one who isn't expressive or picks up on social cues. says what ever comes to mind. Takes things a little too literally, is blunt in conversations. Like someone who struggles with their tone so people think they're bored or mean when they really have constantly racing thoughts and new ideas and are always open to new relationships.

I'm pretty sure it has never taken me this long to answer an ask before, but I wanted to make sure I'd put the same time and effort into yours as I did with every other one so far. Sadly I never seemed to get the free time to do so until now, so I REALLY want to thank you for your patience, anon, and hope you're happy with the result🩵

Please note though that for requests like these I'm only able to draw from my own experiences which possibly differ from those of others.

Accordingly nothing I said about "you" is meant to impose any kind of insinuations about behavioral patterns on those reading this, nor is it my intention to criticize or sound harsh in any way.

It goes without saying that Luke, as a friend as well as a partner, couldn't be any more wonderful to be around and I believe that especially for someone on the neurodivergent spectrum it's basically a dream come true to date him.

(Apart from that he's definitely that one friend who listens to you when you think nobody else does and waits for you when you need to stop to tie your shoe laces.)

He's empathetic and sensitive to the emotions of those surrounding him and thus would never make you feel like you don't belong, are weird for acting a certain way, or like you'd be better off pretending to be something you're not to "fit in".

And while Luke's connection to the Force certainly adds a lot to the fact that he has no trouble reading you, he would manage to just as well without it.

Still there's no denying how useful his abilities could prove themselves to be in a relationship, especially should his partner struggle with expressing themselves.

I won't go into much more detail though, because many of the things I already talked about in my other posts regarding his understanding and supportive character can be applied here as well.

(e.g. Master Luke Skywalker headcanons, Luke with a partner on their period, Luke x a reader with mental health issues, breaking down in front of Luke)

However I think it'd be really interesting to take a look at his initial reaction to getting to know a neurodivergent person with the behavioral features you described since I believe they differ depending on which Luke era we're talking about.

• ANH Luke wouldn't even bat an eye

• on Tatooine everyone has to put up a rough exterior in order to protect oneself

• it's not a place of friendly conversations and common niceties; people know they're better off minding their business and staying on their own

• you're very blunt and speak your mind?

• you seem unfazed, even bored during most encounters?

• good for you, it's not easy to navigate this corner of the galaxy and much safer to hold others at a distance

• growing up Luke came across a wild array of all kinds of beings too, one more interesting (and really scary) than the other

• he's not put off, instead even used to supposed unfriendliness

• also he doesn't know anything about where you're from and your people, maybe that's just the way they are and how you were raised?

• he probably thinks you're very cool too

• because surely you have seen a lot? Been on great adventures across the galaxy?

• he really wants to do the same

• if you come across as mean without meaning to it's not a big deal, it only makes him want to spend even more time with you

• ("if mean, then why friend-shaped??")

• most importantly ANH Luke judges a person more by their actions than their words, so there is absolutely no need to worry about how he may perceive you

• it's safe to say you're not getting rid of him as it's nearly impossible to shake him off once he decides he wants to be someone's friend

• he's more than delighted once you get to know each other better and it turns out his intuition was right!

• ESB Luke, on the other hand, may be a bit slower to come around

• not necessarily because he dislikes you but because he doesn't have the time nor the patience to put effort into really getting to know you

• people talk and so he probably heard a thing or two that has him eyeing you curiously

• most likely he won't pay you much mind as he's gone most of the time anyways

• generally speaking though, I think you'd get along pretty well, Luke is a friendly and open minded person after all and would surely grow fond of your quirks before even knowing about their source

• still there's a possibility of the two of you butting heads should it come to an actual meeting

• nothing really severe, of course, but still I can see Luke growing easily frustrated at, for example, your lack of expression, or at your questions when you don't quite get something and want to make sure you understood everything correctly

• and while he's not going to show it or tell you outright that he thinks you're a bit annoying, he's not that good at surpressing dramatic sighs or a roll of his eyes

• HOWEVER if you catch him off guard with blunt words said in a tone that could come across as mean it could definitely get a rise out of him

• after all we get to see that he has developed a certain attitude; he's snippy, quick to talk and slightly judgemental

• (mainly towards Han and Yoda but I can see him acting this way quite often because of all that he's being put through)

• I'm sure that under different circumstances Luke wouldn't react as strongly but with how things are during ESB he might hurt your feelings without meaning to

• once the dust settles and he has a quiet moment to himself he'll feel awful though and most likely seek you out to make amends

• naturally RotJ Luke is a different story altogether

• (the character development this man went trough is absolutely crazy, and I'm amazed every time I do comparisons like these)

• before even taking to you for the first time he'd regard you with a warmth and patience you seldom get to experience

• he quietly smiles to himself when he overhears you having a conversation in that special way of yours or when he senses something sparking an idea

• he appreciates your bluntness

• maybe at first you'd think he's laughing at you but don't worry, he just thinks you're cute

• he feels you in the Force, senses your excitement, your curiosity

• it draws him in

• he is able to see you as a whole, not just what you present on the outside, and so isn't deterred by what others would view as a potential attack or criticism

• (take notes ESB Luke)

• once you've grown closer he's always there to point out social clues you might have missed and/or walks you through certain situations to explain how your behavior might have looked to others when it's something you're worried about

• often he knows what you're going to say before you do and, if that's what you want, gives you a sign you agreed upon, letting you know if maybe it'd bet better for you to be silent instead

• (he absolutely explains dumb sexual jokes to you when you don't get them and I don't care how self indulgent this is, I could really use someone to do that for me, thank you very much)

[pleaseeeimjustagirl]

♡Weekly Chronicles♡

December 15,2023

Hey babes! This week was amazing I am so happy I have created this blog I love being a blogger. I've wanted to create one for yearssss but I never got the time to do it and didn't know what to base my blog on. I love seeing other girlies on the same journey of self-improvement<3.

♡Education♡

The semester is officially over for me on Saturday I am so excited I need this break because school in general can be so stressful and I need this time to relax and pour into myself more I'll probably be uploading here more frequently while on break. 

♡Mental♡ 

I started antidepressants a little over a month ago and have been loving my journey on them my mind is clearer and I don't feel that little gray cloud following me anymore. I am present and not constantly worrying about others and things that I can't control. This is my first time using medication to finally have control over my mental health. Other than that my mental health has been so good. If you deal with seasonal depression you got this girl it's tough. Trust me I get it I've dealt with seasonal depression and anxiety for years and my inbox is always open for a chat but I ask before you tell me your problems ask how I'm feeling in the moment <3

♡Physical♡

I have been super consistent with my diet! Eating clean and working out every day I have been lifting 3 times a week. I didn't get to lift today because I am currently at work while typing this lol but I will make up for it by lifting tomorrow. I am currently fasting trying to make up fasts from Ramadan before Ramadan comes around again in March and I'm not going to lieeee it has been helping me look extra snatched now! Like I woke up looking in the mirror like yesss but fasting has so many benefits besides keeping you snatched it helps a lot internally as well. I recently ordered some items for my gut health journey and it's at the post office so I'm going to pick it up tomorrow super excited! This is unrelated but last night I didn't want to get out of bed to do my nightly skincare routine but I forced myself to remember my goals so I'm proud of that.

♡Hobbies♡

I have been consistent with my Italian lessons on Duolingo which I highlyyyy recommend for anyone trying to learn a new language the way its set up is perfect for me with the colors and drawing it feels like a game to me lol. I haven't been reading like I was supposed to I think I only read 2 times this week that’s super baddd I need to stay on top of it. I have been blogging consistently and I love seeing you girlies reflagging and hearting my content it means a lot and I def need to do a Q&A I’ll drop one next week for sure. I want to invest in soap making as a new hobby for me it looks like so much fun! 

♡Plans For The Weekend♡

I have a trip coming up next week I'm going to Maryland for a convention with a couple of friends from the 23 to the 27. I am super excited it's going to be so much fun. So this weekend I'm getting a lot of things together. I have to look for a few of my outfits for my trip and I'm waiting for my shoes to come. Also, I have my final this Saturday and an appointment with my OBGYN ladies don’t forget to book appointments for your check-ups your inner health is super important please take care of yourselves!

This was this week's little journal entrieee not that much occurs in my life but I still love the little update I gave you ladiesss. Comment your plans this weekend and how did your week go?

[tiger-mcqueen]

I see a lot of folks noting the things Ted Lasso has in common with Sleepless in Seattle after Ted said it's the superior Nora Ephron film.

And, yup, I did a rewatch of the film (it's one of my favorites) and took notes too just like a lot of you lol.

There are the obvious things of course. The whole soulmatey-destiny-cosmic-forces vibe, signs (that the heroine is a skeptic of), a focus on planes and boats, an Oklahoma reference, Dr. Fieldstone (who begs people to just talk to each other and admit their feelings). There are Wizard of Oz nods too: Somewhere Over the Rainbow plays after the first radio show, when Annie hears Sam for the first time, Annie and Walter's dinner at the Rainbow Room, Sam mentioning growing a new heart, the reference to a friend named Glenda.

But being the tedbecca clown and yoga enthusiast I am (*proudly adjusts clown wig before stretching*), here are a few other things I noticed:

When Victoria is traveling, she offers to bring Noah a snow globe from the place she's visiting.

The quote: "What we think of as fate is just two neuroses knowing that they are a perfect match." "Y'all's baggage just matches right up, don't it?"

When Annie stops at the diner, she orders tea.

Jonah's Seattle Mariners hat matches the believe colors, and (I know but I stretched before this reach) at the end of the movie, when Sam and Annie hold hands for the first time, he's wearing a yellow jacket and her coat is blue.

And, my favorite (I honestly gasped), the host who seats Sam and Victoria when they first meet for dinner is named...Derick.

Now for my Affair notes:

Sleepless in Seattle paid homage to An Affair to Remember, so let's think about that movie in relation to Ted Lasso, too.

(Before I really dig in, we all know from both movies about the Empire State Building and February 14, but do you remember the teaser trailer for this season was dropped on Valentines' Day?)

Now, in Nora Ephron's Sleepless, the movie and especially the ending of Affair was touted as the most romantic thing ever.

To summarize it: The heroine (Terry) and hero (Nickie) meet while they're involved with others and take a quick "friends to lovers" journey. They realize their feelings and vow to resolve the issues keeping them apart (relationships, careers), and then meet in six months at the top of the Empire State Building. When that day comes, Terry's hit by a cab while rushing to meet Nickie...and Nickie waits in vain in the rain and thunder and lightning until he gives up, thinking she doesn't love him. She won't tell him about the accident because it left her unable to walk. Nickie visits Terry in her apartment and is just about to leave forever when he sees one of his paintings (that his agent gave to a woman in a wheelchair) and realizes what happened. Love and happiness ensues.

So:

-Ted and Rebecca aren't involved with others when they meet, but they are very hung up on their exes, and they have to work through their issues before they're ready to be in a relationship with someone.

-There's been debate for a while in the general Ted Lasso fandom about the show foreshadowing a car accident. Ted even almost steps in front of a car a few times.

-Rebecca's "thunder and lighting" haven't happened yet.

-Ted's not a painter like Nickie, but the Hockney drawing that Rupert gave Rebecca is important to her journey. And this show likes parallels, so I've been thinking about how a drawing/painting/piece of artwork involving Ted might play a part in an eventual tedbecca. I've wondered if he might get her a copy of one of Hockney's lightning prints because he knows she likes the artist.

I don't know.

I'm not thinking Ted and Rebecca will vow to meet at the top of the Empire State Building or anything like that. But I have long thought any revelation of feelings between Ted and Rebecca would be in the very ending of the show, just like in Sleepless in Seattle.

(*puts on clown shoes*)

Now I'm fully into the idea that a car accident, thunder and lightning, and possibly a painting...all in homage to An Affair to Remember...will play a part in the realization of feelings and ensuing confession.

[luveline]

Hi! I remember a while ago you said zombie!au Steve might have a hobby of drawing? Would love to see some of that maybe w r as his muse:D

steve zombie!au fem. 1k

You return to the camp with your new best friend at your side. In matching coats, no less. 

"Christ," Steve says, shaking his head in disgust. 

He loves —loves— that you have a friend, someone who might care about you just as much as he does. You deserve to be loved, and cherished, and known for your worth. You're a human vestibule of sweetness and God knows it wasn't going to be long before someone else noticed. 

But matching coats? "Alright, where's mine?" he asks. 

"Didn't have your size, handsome," Eddie says, giving you a quick and purely amicable hug. "See you later." 

He scampers off to who knows where and you sit down. You don't hide your happy smile, and Steve's glad for it even if it does make him jealous.  "He's so nice," you say. 

"No, he's not." 

"He is. He's almost as nice as you. And he helped me find you something." 

"After he outfitted my girlfriend in a couple's costume. I'm surprised he had the energy." 

"You're so jealous," you say, your happy smile growing in size with the seconds. 

"I'm actually making myself feel sick." 

"I can wear a different coat if it–" 

"Shut up! As long as you like me better, wear what you want." He shakes off his petty jealousy and takes your hand. For once, he's sitting on a towel rather than just grass or dirt, but his efforts to avoid extensive grass stainage mean nothing when your muddy shoe brushes his leg. "Nice. Thanks." 

"Sorry, sorry," you murmur, swinging your backpack off of your shoulder and sighing as you bend into yourself. "Jeez, my back hurts." You breathe out, a low moan of sound that drags. He can feel your pain. (He can't, but he figures that he loves you so much you're now connected spiritually to one another.) "How come I keep going on these expeditions and you keep staying home?" 

"I'm good with the kids." 

"Mm. Maybe you'll come on the next one anyways? I miss you when I'm gone." 

"I miss you too," he says. "More, I'd say." 

You giggle. "Whatever, you always have to be better than me. Shut up! Shut up, I'm trying to give you the things I found for you." 

Steve draws a zipper closed over his lips and flicks away the key. You get into these moods with each other sometimes, perhaps from having spent as much time together as you have, where a faked aggression rises between you. It's almost like you would've spoken at the start of the end of the world, when it was him and you alone, and Steve wasn't in the best of moods. The play fighting soon dies down as you open your bag; receiving gifts is always a pleasure. 

"First, underwear." 

"Thank you," he says, accepting the eight pack of boxers you offer like a man who's crawled the Sahara being given a glass of water. "So much." 

"You're welcome. Socks, a shirt, a new belt, a brace for your knee." You dump it on the towel next to him one by one. Your bag must've been heavy carrying all this, and it keeps going. You've brought him soap, hair elastics, razor blades, chapstick. The community you belong to is heavy on sharing, but you're free to bring home whatever you like so long as you're willing to carry it unaided once you've contributed to the food drive. You've clearly crammed your bag full of stuff for him, unveiling only underwear and socks for yourself. 

"You couldn't find any toothpaste?" he asks. 

You toss a pack of cigarettes at him without force. "Sadly, no. But I think Robin can get us some with those, right?" 

"I wanna smoke these so bad." 

You laugh and shake your head, fondly disapproving. "You don't! We can just kiss more, alleviate your cravings." 

"Weirdo." 

You lean forward, putting your cold hand on his cheek to leverage him closer. "You knew this when you met me," you say, kissing his cheek.

Steve's good on the cravings front after that. He swears that when things are at their worst a kiss from you could keep him going. Your lips can ease the ache of an empty stomach and the shattering heat of his ever-sprained knee.

You pull away gently like you're worried you'll hurt him in your detangling. Honestly, you might. Steve imagines you leaving sometimes like his arm being torn off. 

You reach back into the back for a parcel wrapped in a shirt for protection. The pencils and sketchbook you got Steve are long gone, lost with the rest of your possessions in the middle of a college campus on the Michigan border. Finding things like that is hard, and it hasn't been on Steve's mind. 

Apparently, it's been on yours.

"These are nice ones, right? The pencils?" you ask, having unwrapped your parcel, a soft backed sketchbook and a small metal case of pencils in hand. "There's only twelve, but I even found a sharpener so you won't have to do it with your knife. Sorry there's no black, I know you like the darker details."

Steve flicks through the sketchbook without thinking, every page blank. It isn't very big either, but it's perfect for purpose. 

He sets it aside with the pencils near all your new things and gets on his knees, tugging you in for a hug. "Thank you," he says, and he's said thank you a hundred times to you, but this one feels awkward, clumsy in his mouth. 

"You're welcome. Just promise you'll draw me again." 

"You're the only thing I want to draw." He kisses your cheek in emphasis. "You're the most beautiful thing everywhere we go." 

"That's such a line," you say, sounding melted. 

Easy, he thinks, turning your face to his for a kiss. Soft, as sweet as he can manage. With you, kisses start soft and end too rough, he can't help it. He remembers you're there and his to kiss and it drives him crazy. 

It's a little easier to stop today. Steve is genuinely eager to draw again, and in a week or two there won't be a page in his book without your likeness, his muse.