#Thankyou Zayne!!!!

[agender-vampling]

🐁🐡 🐈‍⬛ for the age regressor ask game?

🐁- What would your ideal regression space/room be like?

I'm not entirely sure. I have a list of toys I want but other than that idk I could be anywhere and be fine I'm not picky. Usually when regressing I'm just sleepy so somewhere comfortable to lay down is all I really need.

But for the sake of the ask I'll share my Microsoft Powerpoint made moodboard of the ideal fantasy regression places I visit in my head

It's just a cabin in an eternally Autumn woods full of books and moss. My toys are my teddy bear patches (not pictured but the vibe of her is captured) and old keys I find and not much else. I like it, it's cozy and there's lot of exploring to be done!

Sometimes I like to imagine the owner of the cabin is a forest creature/monster of some kind and they take care of me.

🐡 - What is your favorite small activity?

I like being read to, and lining all my toys up in neat rows, and storytelling about my toys and stuffies backstories and lives and friendships and what not. Mostly read to though. I wanna lay down and listen to a spooky story.

🐈‍⬛ - What are your favorite nicknames?

No one's ever called me any nicknames so I'm not really sure... I'd have to hear someone else say them before I knew if I liked them or not. But that involves getting a CG who calls you things first...

I like the sound of Ragamuffin. Sounds very silly scrappy kid to me. And Vampling is a recent favorite!!

[kakusu-shipping]

HELLO THERE

My name is Emile, I'm a Proship selfshipper who loves drawing other people's Self Inserts above anything else and for this week and this week only I am opening $10 RUSH ORDER SKETCH COMMISSIONS!

Do you want a drawing of you and your F/O for cheap and don't mind it being a little rough? Consider DMing me and you could get something like This!

For the low low price of $10 a sketch!!!

And as a bonus!! If you end up liking your sketch and would like it lined, colored, or even fully rendered, you can DM me next week and I will happily slash the price of a full piece just for you!!!

From right this very second through Thursday night my DMs will be open to anyone interested! I only have Paypal to accept payment so please be aware of that!

Thankyou for your time!

[lyn31]

Sinceeee i'm still in this zayne and mc on a honeymoon sweetness haze, might as well request another one for my dose of sweetness hahaha can you pretty please write more about their newlywed life, all domestic like them cooking together, going on grocery shopping maybe? Heck even them doing laundry together would be cute 🤣 oh and probably them going to work related functions for the first time since the wedding and introducing each other as husband / wife? Just sending this in before i sleep so good night and thankyou in advance! hehe 💕❤️

Hopefully it's not died down yet 😂🫶🏻 And no worries, seeing that I made a series in ao3, this story would keep coming even if it just a short little scene! And again, I can't choose what activity for them to do, so this is how it ended up being...

Let me know what you think! 👀💕

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New Chapter of Life Together

Summary

You learn what it means to be loved as a wife—not through grand declarations, but in quiet mornings, soft reassurances, and the steady presence of the man who chose you for life.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Married Life, newlyweds, fluff, banter, silly, chaos, a lot of flirting!

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The first thing you feel is his arm, heavy and familiar around your waist. Then the warmth of his chest, the quiet, steady rhythm of his breath against your shoulder. You shift slightly, testing the morning light that peeks through the curtains—and immediately, Zayne tightens his hold on you with all the intent of someone who has no plans of letting you escape.

"Good morning, wife," he murmurs against your skin, voice still rough with sleep.

You smile before your eyes are even fully open. "Good morning, husband."

The views aren���t new anymore. You’ve lived together long before vows were exchanged, before rings slipped into place. But now—now they taste sweeter, weightier. Even when said half-teasing, neither of you seem eager to stop.

You stretch your leg over his, limbs tangled beneath the covers, and he exhales softly like that was exactly what he wanted. For a moment, neither of you speak. Just the quiet of the room, the drowsy comfort of not needing to be anywhere yet.

"I had a weird dream," you mumble into his collarbone. "You were trying to fight a sentient loaf of bread."

Zayne hums. "Did I win?"

"Only after giving it a heartfelt speech about forgiveness."

"I see." A beat. "Sounds accurate."

You laugh under your breath. He kisses the back of your neck, absently, like it’s muscle memory. You reach behind you, fingertips brushing his chest until they find that familiar, faint heartbeat under your touch—calm and certain, just like him.

"What should we eat?" you ask after a pause, not moving an inch.

"You're asking me that while still in bed?" he murmurs, voice laced with amusement.

"No dirty thoughts! I��m manifesting brunch."

"You’re manifesting it from the arms of your husband, who is also very comfortable."

You twist slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. "Fine, I guess we’ll starve together."

Zayne’s smile is small but unmistakable, the kind that barely lifts the corner of his lips and still somehow makes your stomach flutter. He leans in, brushing his mouth against yours—slow, warm, and just the right side of lazy. It deepens as your fingers slip into his hair, and for a moment, you both seem to forget everything else. His touch drifts lower, and the kiss turns languid, coaxing.

But then, your stomach lets out a loud, undeniable growl.

You freeze. Zayne stills. And then, against your neck, you feel his shoulders start to shake with laughter.

"Okay, okay," you groan, burying your face in the pillow. "Rude."

He kisses your temple, still grinning. "Brunch it is."

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You pad into the kitchen behind him, still barefoot, hair a mess, wearing one of his oversized shirts like you always do on mornings like this. Zayne rolls up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, sets his tablet on the counter, and already you can see that look in his eyes—the one that says he’s taking this way too seriously.

"Let me help," you say, even though you both know what that usually means.

Zayne glances over his shoulder with that soft, amused expression he reserves just for you. "You sure?"

"Of course! It’s brunch. It’s meant to be spontaneous and unhinged."

He blinks but nods all the same. "Alright. But no cinnamon in the eggs again."

"That's one time," you mutter, grabbing a pan anyway.

It’s controlled chaos from there. Zayne measures ingredients with military precision, he stirs with careful, deliberate movements. Meanwhile, you’re humming whatever’s stuck in your head, tossing in seasonings by instinct, ignoring every suggestion he tries to gently offer.

"That’s not... two teaspoons," he points out mildly, watching you sprinkle something into your pan with reckless abandon.

"It’s two teaspoons in spirit."

He shakes his head, reaching around you to grab a cutting board, only for your elbow to bump his side. You dodge in front of him, stealing his spatula just to flip your own food. He frowns, but there’s no heat in it. Just the usual dance of coexisting in a space too small for both your styles.

At some point, you flick flour at him.

It catches him clean on the nose, dusting his face like powdered sugar. He doesn’t react at first—just stares at you, completely deadpan, as if deciding whether to reprimand you or kiss you senseless.

You burst into laughter.

"You have flour—" you wheeze, pointing, "on your—"

Zayne calmly wipes his nose with a dish towel. "I’m married to a gremlin."

"Excuse you, I’m a culinary genius."

"You’re a hazard."

Still, when everything’s finally cooked and plated, the result is... actually edible. Good, even. The eggs are a little crisped on one side, the toast slightly uneven, but the flavors are warm and comforting and somehow perfectly them. You both slide onto the counter, plates balanced on your laps, legs swinging lazily.

The window’s open. The breeze smells like spring. He hands you a fork, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips again as he watches you take your first bite.

"...Not bad, right?" you ask, mouth full.

"Brilliant," he says dryly. "I might survive after all."

You nudge your foot against his, eyes catching his in that soft, slow moment that doesn’t need anything more than just being here.

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The shower is—miraculously—efficient. Warm water, quiet kisses, just enough lingering touches to feel indulgent without dragging the hours into full-blown distraction. You both dry off in sync, navigating the shared space like muscle memory, and by the time you're dressed and slipping on your shoes, it's afternoon.

Sunday means errands, but it doesn’t feel like a chore. Not when it’s the two of you.

You stop by the dry cleaners first, where Zayne handles the transaction with his usual quiet grace and you eye the mystery stain on one of his button-downs like it personally offended you. Then it’s light bulbs, of all things, which somehow turns into a debate over wattage because Zayne is, of course, reading the box like it’s a research paper.

"I swear you overthink these," you mutter, nudging his arm with your elbow.

"And you under think everything," he replies, without even looking up.

Fair.

But the best part of the afternoon is the plant shop. It’s a cozy little place that smells like soil and citrus, and you make a beeline for the corner where the leafy, drooping misfits live. One in particular catches your eye—a slightly crooked snake plant with a tilted pot and far too much charm for Zayne to ignore.

"We just re-potted three last month," he says, arms crossed.

"He’s different. Look at him," you coo, lifting the little guy carefully. "He’s got personality."

Zayne gives the plant a long, assessing look, then you. Then the plant again. "...You’re going to forget to water it."

"I won’t."

"You will," he says, but takes the pot from you anyway, one hand cradling the base like it’s fragile. The way he does it makes you grin—he’s already accepted the adoption, whether he admits it or not.

Outside the store, an elderly woman fumbles with her bags, and before either of you even speak, you step forward to help. Zayne’s hand settles briefly at the small of your back as you assist her, steady and quiet. She thanks you both sweetly, eyes crinkling, and you flash her a smile that lingers longer than necessary.

Zayne watches that smile with a softness he doesn’t say out loud.

The rest of the outing passes in that same easy rhythm. You hand him your drink without a word, and he takes a sip like it’s routine—no need to ask. You lean into him while waiting at a crosswalk, forehead briefly brushing his shoulder. At some point, you bicker about whether taking 3rd Avenue or looping around through the back road is faster—Zayne with logic, you with stubborn gut feeling. He humors you and takes your route anyway.

By the time you hit the grocery store, you’re both ready to knock out dinner prep. But the snack aisle derails everything. Zayne sneaks bags of cookies into the cart like you can’t see it or something. You remove one, replacing it with the lower-sugar version, only for him to sneak another one in from behind your back.

"You know we came here for, like, eggs and rice, right?" You say, grinning, crossing your arms.

"And chocolate," he adds, tossing in a novelty-flavored candy bar. He casually looks at his phone that has the grocery list like he didn’t just add sweet into it.

You scan the nutritional label like it just betrayed your trust. Seriously—if you didn’t stop this man, all his teeth would rot and he wouldn’t even regret it.

Eventually, you give up pretending to be responsible and accept that your cart now contains enough snacks for a week. Maybe two.

On the way home, you both realize brunch wore off faster than expected. Zayne’s stomach growls first. You don’t say anything—just raise an eyebrow and gesture toward a café at the corner.

Ten minutes later, you're inside, warm and cozy, sunlight filtering through the windows. He’s reading the menu with that familiar furrow between his brows, like choosing between a croissant and a danish is a life-altering decision.

"You look so serious right now," you tease, sipping your drink. "Like you’re solving a medical mystery. For pastries."

"I like to be thorough."

"You're adorable."

He lowers the menu slightly, eyes flicking to yours. "...You’re not getting out of deciding the movie tonight." But despite how steady his tone is, the tips of his ears are turning red.

You grin around the rim of your cup. "I’ll let you pick—if you get the strawberry tart and let me steal half."

"...Deal."

You end up splitting three pastries anyway. Conversation drifts from movies to work, to the idea of maybe cooking something light for dinner, to whether or not that plant is actually going to survive under your care. It’s nothing flashy. Just the rhythm of being you and Zayne—shared smiles, knees bumping beneath the table, the world soft around the edges.

And for a lazy Sunday? It’s perfect.

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Monday morning hits different after a slow weekend. There’s a light chill in the air, one that creeps in through the kitchen windows despite the soft warmth of dawn pressing through the curtains. You pad across the tile floor, barefoot, still slightly sleepy, wearing nothing but one of Zayne’s button-downs—loose, wrinkled from the laundry basket, and hanging just enough to tease.

You’re not really trying to make a statement.

...But you're also not not trying.

You're mid-pour with the kettle when you hear the bathroom door open and soft footsteps cross the hall. Zayne steps into the kitchen, towel around his neck, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. He’s wearing his usual morning expression—composed, alert, too calm for someone who just walked in on his wife looking like that.

Except for the smallest shift in his gaze, the stillness in his steps as he takes you in.

He says nothing at first, only moves toward the counter like he always does. Pours himself a mug of coffee. But you catch the flicker. That very specific pause as he lifts the cup to his lips and doesn't drink—just watches you over the rim, quiet, assessing.

And yeah. You know exactly what you're doing.

"Morning, husband," you say sweetly, voice innocent as you stretch just slightly to reach the sugar jar.

His eyes trail the motion, linger a second too long. "...Good morning, wife."

He sets the mug down with a soft clink. That’s all. No teasing, no smirking. But you feel the tension in the air anyway, coiling subtle and slow between your bare thighs and his calm restraint. This man, composed even now, does nothing by accident.

"You're going to be late," he says, finally turning back to his coffee.

"So are you," you reply, sipping yours, perfectly unfazed.

But his gaze dips once more as he walks past you, deliberately brushing the edge of his hand along the curve of your waist, kissing you slowly before going on his way out of the kitchen, as if staying any longer would mean neither of you would get out of the house today.

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A few hours into work, you’re back on base, half-distracted during reports when something ridiculous happens—Tara gets her coat stuck in the door and tries to play it off like it didn’t happen. You manage a sneaky photo just before she notices.

You send it to Zayne with no caption.

A minute later, your screen lights up.

Mine💕: Is this why you were wearing my shirt and nothing else this morning? To not get attack by door?

You grin and fire back.

You: Well, I had to arm myself with something. Your shirt felt appropriate. Has… sentimental value.

Mine💕: It had strategic value this morning too.

You almost laugh out loud.

You: Are you suggesting I distracted you?

Mine💕: You walked into the kitchen half-dressed. On a Monday. After a weekend where we barely left bed. So, yes.

You: Oh no. What will I wear tomorrow?

Mine💕:  Nothing, if you’re trying to get me to skip work.

Your cheeks heat—part laughter, part memory, part anticipation. The texts keep going, drifting more playful, more suggestive, until you're both balancing professionalism with escalating tension.

Eventually, somewhere between paperwork and lunch, he sends one last message.

Mine💕: I’m picking up dinner tonight. So you can go straight to not wearing anything when I get home.

You don’t reply immediately. Just stare at your screen, biting back a smile.

But oh yeah—you’re both very much looking forward to tonight.

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You get home before him. The house is quiet, the kind of peaceful that makes you want to hum to yourself while moving through it. Zayne said he’d bring dinner, so technically you didn’t have to do anything—but a sudden idea takes hold somewhere between opening the fridge and spotting the unused chocolate in the cupboard.

Dessert.

You’ll make dessert.

Well… a dessert.

You tie on the apron—his apron, naturally. It's one of those neutral-toned ones with deep pockets and a tie that loops around your waist twice. The only thing beneath it is skin and a whole lot of mischief. It’s half a joke—just the apron, no clothes—but it doesn’t stop you from fluffing your hair and checking the mirror before you start.

You’re not just teasing. You want to see what that calm, steady husband of yours does when he walks in and finds his wife waiting with nothing but his apron.

The baking part goes better than expected. It helps that you’ve done this before, and that you know exactly how he likes his sweets, although he’ll eat any sweet you give him and this is just talking about actual food.

You’re plating them when you hear the lock click.

The door swings open. Zayne steps in, dinner in hand, something warm and likely perfectly portioned. His eyes lift—routine, casual—until they register what they’re seeing.

He stops mid-step.

You’re standing there at the kitchen counter, apron tied neatly, dessert on display. The light catches your skin, and maybe it’s your imagination, but the air seems to still for a moment.

He blinks.

“Welcome home, husband,” you say, voice light, innocent.

He sets the takeout bag down on the nearest surface. Doesn’t even glance at it. Just walks straight toward you, loosing up the tie on his shirt, walking slow and with controlled, like he's handling something fragile. Or dangerous.

His hands slide to your waist—cool, sure. His voice is low, close to your ear. “I thought we agree on nothing.”

“Isn’t this more exciting?” you murmur, tipping your head up just slightly, pulling at his tie.

He kisses you like he has no intention of stopping. And for a long, breathless stretch, he doesn’t.

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By the time you actually sit down to eat, the food is lukewarm and the desserts are nearly forgotten. You both laugh about it, halfway through your second bites, a little dazed, your hair mussed, his neck full of kiss marks. Both of you barely dress.

The kitchen still smells like sugar and vanilla.

And Zayne? He still hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

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It’s just past midnight when he wakes up.

No gasp, no cry—just a sharp inhale through clenched teeth and the sudden tension of his body beside you. You feel it immediately, even through sleep. The shift in the bed. The way his hand curls slightly, like he's still trying to hold onto something that slipped away.

You roll toward him, reaching out before your eyes are fully open. “Zayne?”

He blinks once, twice, eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering in from the streetlamp outside. His breath is still uneven. There’s sweat at his hairline, his shirt sticking to his chest, his jaw tight.

“Sorry,” he says quietly. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You don't reply at first. Just press your forehead to his shoulder, your arm slipping around his middle.

“Was it… another nightmare?”

He doesn’t answer, but you feel the nod. It's small. Heavy.

It doesn't happen often—not anymore. But every now and then, something cracks through that carefully maintained calm. Close calls. An impossible case. A moment when the scalpel trembled, or worse, when it nearly slipped. Or sometimes... sometimes it's you. A memory he tries not to relive, no matter how old or how faint.

“You’re here,” you whisper, voice soft against his skin. “We’re safe.”

His arms come around you after that. Slow, a little hesitant—like he still thinks he doesn’t deserve to be comforted—but when he exhales, it’s shakier than he means it to be.

“You were…” he trails off. “In the OR. I—”

He stops again. Shakes his head.

You don't need the rest. You've heard enough versions of this dream to know where it leads. And you know exactly how deeply it sinks into him, even hours after it ends.

So you pull him closer, shifting until you’re almost on top of him, fingers threading through his damp hair, grounding him. “You made vows,” you say, quiet but steady. “So did I.”

His hands press against your back, anchoring. He doesn’t reply, but you feel the moment he lets go of the dream. Not entirely—but enough. Enough to stay here. With you.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love.”

You press a kiss just below his ear. “Not now. Not ever.”

And finally, finally, he breathes like he believes it.

He falls asleep not long after, arms still around you, the warmth of your body pulling him back to steadiness. And you stay like that, wide awake, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest.

You know he’ll be okay in the morning.

He always is.

But you stay anyway—because that’s what you promised.

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Bonus

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The event is held in one of the hospital’s private conference halls—high ceilings, too-bright lighting, waitstaff weaving between clusters of formally dressed doctors and researchers. There’s soft music playing in the background, more ambiance than melody, and a spread of hors d’oeuvres on white-clothed tables no one quite dares to touch.

Zayne stands beside you, tailored suit perfect down to the pressed collar. He blends in seamlessly with the rest of them—composed, unbothered, clipboard conversations flowing around him like water. But you can feel it in the way his hand rests at the small of your back. Gentle. Protective. Anchored.

He leans in slightly when someone approaches. “This is my wife,” he says simply, voice calm but warm.

You hear the words more than once tonight—always offhand, always soft. But every time, they catch you a little off guard. My wife. It shouldn’t feel so new anymore, but somehow, coming from him, in this polished, clinical space where everything is usually professional and precise… it does.

It feels like a tiny rebellion.

You smile, offer your hand, try to keep your voice steady as you greet whoever he introduces you to—department heads, residents, researchers you only know by surname on articles he's sent you. And you do well enough, even as you notice the subtle double takes. The way eyes flick between the two of you. Like no one expected this pairing. Or maybe they just didn’t expect you.

“She’s even prettier than you described,” one of the cardiologists from another hospital murmurs with a smile, a little in awe.

Before you can react—before you can wave it off or stammer something awkward—Zayne’s already answering.

“She always is.”

He doesn’t smile when he says it. Doesn’t smirk or make a show of it. He just says it like it’s fact. Like gravity. And suddenly you’re the one left flustered, heat blooming in your face.

Zayne offers you a drink then—water, always observant—and you accept it more for the distraction than anything else. His fingers brush yours briefly. Steady. Sure.

Later, during a lull in the presentations, you find yourself pressed shoulder to shoulder with him by the tall windows overlooking the city. He doesn’t say much, just watches the traffic below. But his fingers curl around yours, his thumb tracing the back of your hand slowly, absentmindedly.

You lean into him a little.

“You know you’re going to make it hard for me to show my face around here again,” you murmur.

“Why?” he asks mildly, but there’s the ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“You just… announced me like I was the highlight of the year.”

“You are.”

You laugh, bury your face briefly against his arm, cheeks still warm. He says nothing else, just lets you stay close, thumb still moving in slow circles. The rest of the evening passes in the blur of names and speeches, but you hold on to that moment.

To the quiet certainty in his voice.

To being his wife—not just on paper, but here. Beside him. In his world.

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Notes

They're too cute for their own good 😩🫶🏻 I'll be back 👀 Here's the proposal and wedding fic, How it all happen, and here's the honeymoon fic, Honeymoon part 1 (Smut) and Honeymoon part 2 (Fluff) This is a bit of a jump but here's where they attempt at trying for baby lol 2 years into their marriage! Try For Baby (Fluff)

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: Parenthood AU Masterlist ✨

[manikas-whims]

hello i love your headcanons and was wondering if you could add sylus in some of your older ones? i was reading the "LADS men react to you dating a toxic partner" (it wasnt the title i forgot sorry) and was wondering how sylus would react. i would love it so much if you could add sylus headcanons to some of your previous ones. thankyou so much, your posts make my day🎀💓

i got you dear ♡ i’ll add Sylus to all my older HCs slowly in various posts I'll try to make throughout the coming week :)

thanks for reading my silly lil HCs ♡ hope you like this!

Sylus’s reaction to you dating someone who later on mistreats you

🐦‍⬛ He's actually quite surprised when he finds out you're dating because he genuinely believed whatever him and you had going on was far more than just being close associates. So the idea of you seeing someone else kinda shakes him off his game for a while. Luke and Keiran can see it in the way he acts— slightly distracted during serious business meetings and even when a gang war breaks out.

🐦‍⬛ He isn't the type to get jealous but he will openly express his dislike for this person. Now he may not be a saint but it feels insulting to him that you'd rather date someone else when he can give you the world if you so much as ask.

🐦‍⬛ And he will be displeased every time you come up to him for a favor with your work or anything else, saying things like, “Oh, so now you need me? I thought you'd completely cut ties with my kind.”

🐦‍⬛ If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then they better start counting their breaths cause they won't be spared many.

Sylus may not like this person you're dating but he's decent enough to respect your boundaries. And it would've stayed that way. He wouldn't have involved himself in your personal matters at all until Mephisto, (whom he had still left to watch over you) catches this person yelling at you one evening.

The sight is enough to make Sylus drop whatever work he's been swarmed with.

It doesn't take him long to arrive at the residential area you reside in. He stops his bike and teleports right over to your apartment. In an instant, he's standing between you and this person, the smoky red wisps of his evol holding this person by their neck.

“Is this your type?” Sylus asks, his crimson eyes glowering at this person. “I’m truly disappointed in your taste, Miss Hunter.”

You watch with dread as the fingers of his right hand curl into a fist, his arm poised to throw a punch. And though you appreciate the gesture, you can't let him proceed with this. You have seen him in action enough times to know how strong those fists are. You know that using said fists to hurt someone would only get him in more trouble. And you definitely wouldn't want that because even if you stubbornly refuse to say it out loud, you've grown quite attached to him.

“Sylus stop!” You yell.

As expected, he does not.

But right before his fist can collide with the person's face, Sylus blinks. He can feel the amount of strength you're exerting as you hold onto his arm to keep him in place. To keep him from hurting this person who broke not just your heart but also your trust.

He doesn't glance at you but scoffs. “Even now you defend them. Why?”

“I’m not defending them.” You say. “I just think it's beneath the leader of Onichynus to be wasting time on such people.”

He scoffs again. “You’re not wrong about that, Sweetheart.”

His evol lets go of this person's neck, and he gestures with his chin towards the door. “Get lost.”

They immediately run off.

Seeing that, your own fingers slowly loosen their grip on Sylus’s arm but he grabs hold of your hand before you can completely let go.

“Let’s go for a ride.” He suggests.

And you find yourself smiling for the first time in a while. “Where are we going?”

“Guess.”

XAVIER, RAFAYEL AND ZAYNE’s VERSIONS [HERE]

» MASTERLIST «

[clarkeyhill]

Butterfly Effect | Arthur Hill

Fluff | inspired by back to life by zayn

Butterfly effect: a significant event that happens that is considered life altering.

-------

"We are gathered here today, to share the special moment of y/n and Arthur's life, a day where we witness the purity and sincerity of their vows as they exchange them for marriage"

The celebrant introduces the ceremony as you and Arthur hold hands, he doesn't even attempt to hold back the tears as his eyes flow like a river. His best friends all in the crowd watching him as he gets ready to marry his best friend, your eyes glisten as you fight back the tears not wanting to ruin your makeup

You read out your vows, staring adoringly into Arthur's hazel eyes

"my dear Arthur, Thankyou for loving every part of me, even the parts that I couldn't love myself, Thankyou for showing me that life can be full of love and appreciation whilst also fun and exciting, I'm so excited to experience this next part of life with you by my side, I will choose you in every lifetime, this one and the next"

His eyes form even more tears at your words, wiping a few away as he chuckles as how soppy he was being.

Arthur pulls out his sheet of paper, preparing his vows.

"Y/n, I've been a lot of places, seen a lot of faces, but nobodies I've seen will every compare to the first time I saw yours, you're the only one that's been watching over me, I can't remember what it was like before you. You give me oxygen when it becomes hard to breathe, when I lose my composure you're there to pick me back up and guide me. Even if I'm wrong or on the odd occasion I'm right you're always by my side; in a world that keeps getting colder, you're the fire that keeps me warm and keeps me a float, Thankyou for picking me in this lifetime, I can't wait for the future"

You can't hold them back no more, tears flow down your face as his words wrap your heart, you can't believe this was your life. Blessed with a man so devoted to you in every way. You couldn't help but think, what if you hadn't met him, what if you never saw him?

"Arthur, you may now kiss the bride"

He doesn't hesitate as his lips lock onto yours, tears streaming down the pairs of your faces as you taste the salt, you pull away and place your heads onto eachothers as you smile

"Let's go Mrs Hill" he whispers as everyone cheers, you walk back down the aisle and take pictures with your friends and family. Awaiting the after party.

-

You top up your makeup, dabbing the tear marks away as you look down and smile at your ring, flashing back to how you and Arthur met. You'd never think you'd be here right now, you chuckle at the reminiscing of the memories as a slight knock etches itself onto your door

"Y/n?" It's Arthur, you place your sponge down as he walks in "hey baby" you reply as he shakes his hands round your waist "we did it" he chuckles "we did" you laugh back as he plants a kiss onto your lips "you ready to go down?" He asks placing a thumb on your cheek

"Never been more ready" you place your hand over his, as you grasp his outstretched hand you make your way to see your friends and family in the function room. Your dress trailing behind you as you beam with joy.

You walk in and everyone cheers as Arthur spins you around walking to your table, a glass of Prosecco already waiting for you as you take a sip, suddenly George adjusts his tie and stands up, clinking his glass

"Ehm, can I have everyone's attention please?" He starts as his eyes dart to Arthur who looks nervous at the words he's going to say

"Just wanted to say congratulations to two of my best friends, you truly fit into eachothers lives like two peas in a pod, your love for each-other is beautiful to see and I'm proud of the pair of you. Not to mention the fact that if I hadn't of accidentally spilt a drink on y/n in a club one night 2 years ago, we'd probably not be here right now" he chuckles as does everyone

"No but jokes aside, I'm glad my clumsiness made some good that night, although it was Arthur that offered you his sweatshirt and I just stood their in a panicky mess, so I guess 90% of the credit should go to Arthur for his smooth tactics, here's to the pair of you" he raises his glass as everyone else does

Chatter begins round the room as the music begins to play, you see your husband dancing with his friends as his arms fling around. A feeling of belonging washes over you as your face flushes, you couldn't help but play George's speech in your head because he was right, what if we never met and what if I never saw him?

-

🫶🏻

[adoreddestiny]

Hii I jusy saw your dialogue prompt post, can I please request the "what are we?" "A mess?" I think it's kinda funny, like, not 100% nsfw but def suggestive, maybe like after their first time? If you can please write for main trio, but if not only zayne is fine xD

Thankyou in advance!! (Love your writings btw!! I think you're doing amazing (*´∇｀)ﾉ)

ೃ⁀➷ POP UP EVENT !! — aurora’s writing corner

— “what are we?” “a mess” x zayne

cw. slightly suggestive, implied sex but no sex tehe

zayne’s lips feel like fire against yours. there’s something chilling from the way his lips seek yours out. his large, calloused hands search your body so intimately you fear you may cry if he continues.

you’re not sure when the two of you made it to the bed; when your shirt was tugged off and thrown to the side with the rest of the clothing on your body. you weren’t sure when zayne’s body was against yours, pleasurable waves of desire rippling through both your bodies with each thrust.

as zayne pulls away from you, his eyes linger on the way your chest rises and falls. the way your lips part, swollen from the amount of times he’s taken them to his.

you call out his name from the stillness and his eyes grow warmer. his arms wrap around you and he holds you tightly to his chest for a moment. “i’ll get you a towel,” he murmurs.

but your arms hold him tighter. “zayne, what are we?” your voice comes out soft and gentle in the macabre twilight. zayne says nothing.

then he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “well, right now, we’re a mess,” he says, “but after i clean you up and get you some liquids, i’ll answer your question.”

[twopoppies]

Hi love

Back at you with more questions and please forgive me if you have Tags on this..I just haven't seen them if you do. I'm newer to the Fandom and still diving deeper into the rabbit hole..and my goodness what a hole it it is. It's very hard as a new supporter to weed through it all and decipher what's real and what's just utter non sense. I appreciate you and others like you who are veterans and can lead us on the right path..so thankyou so much for that. I'm learning in this Fandom that it can get quite crazy and nasty..but also be so caring and supportive at the same time. Now to my questions. I have seen in the past and as in just a few days ago posts in regards to conversion therapy within the music industry..this includes 1 D members..specifically Louis and even Zayn (anxiety) mostly..but Louis for his sexuality. Is this something you can verify? That you have heard about and that could possibly contribute to why we saw such a change in Louis's personality over the years? I think it's well known management plays a huge role in this story but just wanted to know your thoughts and or knowledge on the conversion therapy "hypnosis" theory. Thankyou..and please keep giving us all the love in what you do😘

Hi darling. I don’t think we ever saw any proof of actual conversion therapy.

If you look in the comments/reblogs of this post you’ll see a conversation about this and how Paul McKenna, Simon’s “friend,” who claims to be a hypnotherapist has supposedly worked with Louis and Zayn.

I believe Anne-Marie Thompson was also involved in this creepiness and may have been the person the boys were told was a therapist, but was actually working for Simon. It was either Katie Waissel or Cher Lloyd who spoke about hypnosis being used on the 2010 X factor contestants.

I hope that helps.

[hlficlibrary]

i'm looking for fanfics where louis and harry are divorced from each other. So like 'getting back together fics' but for divorce instead of breakups

thankyou

Hi, anon! You're very welcome! Here are some fics that fit what you're looking for!

Someone to Fly Home To by @kingsofeverything

Louis. 55 year old pilot who wants someone to fly home to.

Harry swipes right. Or Louis and Harry’s marriage ended more than a decade ago, but fate keeps bringing them back together.

I Just Wanna Get Back to Us by @louiesunshine

“Harry! Hey bro, it’s Zayn.”

He’s confused. Zayn is normally not a morning person, often mad at the universe until eleven or so. It’s definitely odd, why is he so cheery? “Why are you in a good mood, it’s eight in the morning, Z.”

Only a laugh is heard through the phone. “I’ve had two Redbulls.”

That explains it. “What can I do for you? I’m trying to get some sleep before I head over to the studio and to my ultimate death.”

“Harry, I swear to God, you are the most dramatic person I know. It’s going to be alright, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just Lou.”

Just Lou? This is not just Lou. This is Louis fucking Tomlinson-Styles - err, just Tomlinson now - his soulmate and ex-husband. The only person that Harry is meant to be with for the rest of his life. The person he’s supposed to have children with and live an amazing life with. They’re supposed to grow old and grey together. This universe paired them together for a life long journey.

“This isn’t just Lou, Zayn and you know that.”

Or, where Harry and Louis are divorced soulmates who are seeing each other for the first time in two years.

pull me back together again (the way you cut me in half) by 28sunflowers / @vintageumbroshirt

When trying to figure out who the love of his life is, Harry’s brain brings back a specific name from his past.

That’s why, a decade after a messy divorce, Louis opens his door to find his ex-husband standing on the other side, asking for a second chance.

Or a This Is Us AU starring Harry as Kevin and Louis as Sophie, but I selectively choose to use only some parts of what's cannon on the show.

[screampied]

oh my goshhhh I’ve followed you for a while bc of your jjk works and just found out YOUVE WRITTEN FOR LADS???? 😭😭😭😭🙏💕

Best day of my life finding this out ily 🫶🏼

btw how we feeling about the new cards that come out soon … :3

HIIII WELCOME THANKYOU SOMUCH 💟💟💟. yesyes i have !!! i wanna write more at some point, ive been thinking about playing again bc ive just been burned ouuuut but we’ll see !!! my favs r sylus n zayne <3

and PHEWWWW. zayne’s had me screaming, i had to replay that constantly bc the stumbling ???? him throwing his glasses ???? oh they knew what they were doing. AAAAH might have to start grinding again 🤞

[kakusu-shipping]

For the OTP au ramble me and greed or me and sanji!!!!! (Or both even!!! Either would be exciting!!~ :3)

Logically I know Greed better because I've known of him longer and you've seen more of his show than Sanji.. but I'm doing Sanji anyway because he's my Blorbo-in-law and I love him

Ask from here (still open to Moots)

Coffee Shop AU - Cafe worker Sanji and regular Zayne makes the most sense to me, I imagine he's working under Zeff in this modern style relaxed AU. You drop by on your way to collage to get a baked good for breakfast, chat him up, and walk on. He is hopelessly pinning over your oblivious ass.

Highschool AU - Bad Boy Zayne, Straight A Sanji!!!! Nerd Sanji!!! Sanji with glasses!! Sanji who knows exactly what he wants to be when he graduates and won't let anything get in his way!! Until he's forced to tutor Punk Zayne in math.... Aah so cool <3

Rivals to Lovers AU - Less literal fist fight rivalry and more... Professional Chefs who are in constant competition, on interviews playfully bashing eachother, or duking it out on cooking shows. Or maybe even just rival restaurateurs. Your shops just happen to be across the street from eachother so you're constantly fighting for customers.

Enemies to Lovers AU - Nooo this one's haaaard it'd have to be a Friends to Enemies to Lovers or I couldn't handle it!! Zayne corruption arc post leaving Sanji when they were kids, he was captured by bad pirates or tricked or something and becomes a big main villain for one of the seasons so Sanji has to reach out to you and remind you of the good times to get you back!

Soulmate AU - Sanji seems the hopeless romantic type, daydreaming about a beautiful soulmate who'd come whisk him off his feet and carry them off into the sunset. This during Jaded Zayne arc of not being super into the idea of romance, marriage, sex, etc would be very funny to me. He just goes on and on with rants of his future love and you are NOT listening dskjfkdsjgf

Single Parent AU - SINGLE DAD SANJI!!!!! Divorced Sanji specifically his wife is alive and they get along fine it just didn't work out. I think he'd have the CUTEST baby girl to ever live. Bright blond hair big blue eyes. Maybe Kindergarten teacher Zayne... Aaaa that's so cute <3

Doctor AU - Scrappy Zayne, Doctor Sanji who's so fucking tired of this dude coming in with a broken nose and a twisted ankle and a busted jaw every few weeks. He's so jaded, he just assumes you're some bar fight guy, until he's walking home late and comes across you standing up for some girl who was getting harassed by a drunk and taking a hit for her. Take you home, patch you up <3

Bodyguard AU - Aaaah you both have such Princely energy it's hard to put one of you as the Guard for the other... But I put you in a lot of the fighter roles so far so it's your turn to be protected! Bodyguard Sanji, but more like... Black Butler style. He's also your chef and helps you dress in the morning and brings you your tea. He's the ultimate right hand man.

The last two are both canon to your S/I so we'll leave it at that

[uzmacchiato]

Hello dear! I have another request for dividers for love and deepspace, if you don't mind.

^^^ wanna use this divider as a reference

Name: Xavier: The arts on the side mirroring, could I request sleeping eye mask, planet, and shooting stars (or just stars would work too) (Hex code: #BDC2FF )

Zayne : macaroons, snowflake, jasmine flower (Hex code: #60b0c0)

Rafayel : pearl seashell, starfish, bubbles (Hex code: #8f3183)

Sylus : rock glass with alcohol, feathers, vinyl record (Hex code: #550816 )

Another one I would request is

Using another of your dividers as a reference, could you just change the colors to the hex codes I had above?

Thank you in advance, and please take as much time as you need.

Hey ! 💞

Just posted this 🫶🏻 Thankyou for the specific details 🥺 Those really helped me speed up my work🤭

Hope you like them ! Thank you so much for requesting 🥰

Love & Deepspace Dividers 💙

[the-tarot-witch22]

Hey

I missed your game sessions way too many times because of my heavy work schedules. I am glad I am able to take part this one. How re u?? My initials are cmps. I am she/her. My sun is in Gemini in tropical and Taurus in sideral. My favorite song Wrong by Zayn ft Kehlani. ⭐️

Thankyou for the opportunity.

Have a good day/night.✨

Hello , thank you for participating in the game, truly nice song btw, I am fine thank you for asking, and I am honored you were excited to particpate in my game, Thank you for waiting patiently for your turn.

Let's start with your reading!

So, how can you be the better version of yourself?

(The cards I got for you - 3 of cups, the hermit, the death)

Okay so the very first thing I feel is you might have trouble making decisions like even if you know you are right you will questioning yourself, and think way too much about your decision if you did the right , you are very prone to overthinking I also feel that, you can be the better version of yourself, if you stop being too hard on yourself, and take every small thing you have done as a win rather then tellling yourself that you could have done better, I am also hearing the situations you went through wasn't your fault, I also feel sometimes you might resist the change happening in you or around you, which makes it harder for you to value yourself, I also feel you could be the better version of yourself if you don't take people's word who are just rude for no reason to your heart, to be confident in your own skin no matter how hard it seems, I also feel you might need to go out more, to experience the world, not just the normal routine work home but something else too, even if its a small walk in nature, or just groceries, if you do it everyday you will feel your head being clear, I also feel that you don't have to belong anywhere just have to belong to yourself and that's enough for you. You are enough, and you need to accept it. I also feel, in your life there will be new beginning coming soon for you, I am also seeing old chapters ending in your life, so let them go, and keep an eye out on opportunities you will know when you need to grab them, just don't let it go and keep believing in yourself. You can be a better version of yourself by being you, and embracing your true self rather than molding yourself in cage of others.

Okay so that's all the messages I got hope you like your reading.

Please give feedback through ask, and I hope it resonates!

If you liked this reading feel free to have a personal session with me through dms!

My Paid Readings!

[annicaax]

2am can't sleep and dealing with unexplained mood shifts. And zayne's given me an idea to incorporate peace and quiet into my life. Gonna visit the cafe tomorrow. Treat myself to some pumpkin spice latte

Also I'm late for my clinic visit. Time to stock up on my anxiety/depression/migraine/insomnia meds

Wow my life's a wreck but thankyou zayneeee

... Um should I get your current wishpool memory?

[starrylavender19]

I cannot believe he is gone.

One direction was the ones that saved me in my worst time and one of them is already gone. He did not deserve anything that happened to him. Even tho he did some things that were wrong he was just human. He did not deserve such hate. Rn all I hope is that he is at peace and finally free of his troubles. Fly High payno. I love you. You will always be loved. The worst part is that he died thinking everyone hates him and the world is against him. We will never hear a new song from him. No more ig stories, no snaps. It's so lonely without him . It's like a part of me died with him. This has also created a fear of the other members dying. I cannot handle it. Given what they mean to me I cannot handle this and idk how I'll deal with it when it's everyone that's gone irrespective of my age. Rn I'm 16 and it's so hard to move on with life after Liam. I was not ready for this. I will never be ready for this. I love you Liam and I love you one direction I love you Niall I love you Zayn I love you Harry I love you Louis. Thankyou so much for all you all have done for me... Fly high payno. I love you, we love you,I will always love you.

[clarkeyhill]

Borders| George Clarke pt2

(Several parts)

Smut|Fluff

You'd started your makeup, working around the colours you were wearing, your eyes smoky and your lips coated in red. The wrap of your dress pulled you in like hourglass, your cherry hair draping down your back in loose curls. You were ready.

[outfit & hair for reference]

You pick out a plain black clutch and open your bedroom door, making your way out to the living room to find Chris and Arthur "boys?" You call out poking your head around the corner as they clamber around "you ready?" Chris replies "yeah how do I look?" You ask, taking a step into their gaze as they both smile "ah you look great" they both say in unison as you toss your hair over your shoulder "why thanks" you giggle.

"Did you text George the address" you ask Chris "yeah, he's on route he should get there just after us" he replies as you nod. You make your way out the flat to the bar, the London air sending a shiver up your spine from the breeze as you hurl a jacket over your back. You arrive at the bar after around a 10 minute walk, you head in to order the first drinks "4 Long Island ice teas please" you ask, ordering for the table as the boys find a space to sit. You grasp the four glasses as you shuffle over to the table, George was still yet to arrive.

You take a sip of your drink as you see George make his way through the crowd to you all "sorry I'm a little late" he says as he smiles at you all, just as he finishes his sentence his eyes match your gaze, the look behind his eyes filled with wonder "it's fine don't worry, we haven't been here long" you say sliding his glass over to him "first round was on me remember" you smile as he chuckles "thanks" he says taking a sip of his drink.

The night progresses and you decide to move to a club, you were eager to dance and properly let your hair down, the alcohol buzzing through you like an enabler for fun. You skip down the street in your heels "she's gonna break her neck" George says to Chris as he shakes his head "pretty sure she'd be more worried about the red bottomed heels than herself mate" he chuckles as they watch you turn into a drunken golden retriever in front of them. The city lights became a fog in your peripherals as you got to the club, you could hear the bass through the doors "one of you has to dance with me!" You say with a mischievous look "absolutely not" Chris shakes his head "pussy" you say as you throw him the middle finger, walking away in a huff inside.

Chris orders this round as you find a space on the dance floor to let your body feel the beat, the movements came naturally as your body moved with the tempo, feeling every beat in your bones. The boys stood and admired your confidence "she's really one of a kind" Arthur says chuckling "yeah she keeps me on my toes alright" Chris chuckles, George doesn't respond, instead his eyes are fixated on your moves, your effortless arches as your body sways, dancing to "boRdErSz" by Zayn, the music took over you. You hair a fuzzy mess in your face as you dance like nobody's watching, Chris catches George's gaze and nudges him "what did I say" he says with a stern look "sorry mate, she's just..amazing can't help but admire her confidence you know?" He plays it off as they head to a table near where you were dancing.

The part of the song approaches where the temp dies down, the slow trance washes over you as can sings the chorus (2:50 onwards so take it off, let's break down all of our walls) as your hands move around your body, feeling it heavily as they caress the sides of your figure, drawing attention to the curves and grace your body withheld. You feel eyes warming over you as the songs comes to an end, dancing with strangers wasn't all so bad at all, especially if your body felt that good after it. The soft pants came from your mouth as you giggle with a girl next to you "you're absolutely gorgeous" she says, as you send a soft smile "Thankyou, as are you" you say back as you shuffle over to the table, George's eyes locked on your physique as your strong walk becomes hypnotising to him "so where's my drink?" You say as you push the hair out of your face "you were busy, I'll go grab you one" Chris says going to get up "it's fine mate, I'll get this one" George says getting up, the whiff of his aftershave hit your nostrils as you take a seat next to them.

"Remember what I said about my friends are off limits" Chris advises "I know? I've not done nothing?" You say with a confused face "no, but George seems to be keen" he says cocking his head slightly "that's not my fault I'm hot" you say shrugging your shoulders as you look at George over at the bar, you decide to help him with the drinks.

"Hey" you say "uh,hey" he replies with a smile "thought I'd help you carry the drinks" you reply "ah thanks" he responds "no problem" you smile back, George pays as you wait for the drinks to be made "so, Chris says you look interested in me" you say with a raised brow "what a twat" he responds shaking his head "that means you are?" You reply with a smug look

"So what if I am? You're off limits we promised Chris we wouldn't" He replies with a curious grin

"Some rules are meant to be broken, especially if you're right on the border of them" you grin

-

🫶🏻

[goongiveusnothing]

How do you know "they literally hated each other"? (Zayn & Harry). Where do you get this info from? Thankyou.

from their own mouths.