#Will probably have to edit later with things I missed

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbors (matthew sturniolo)

pt 8

The SUV rumbled to a stop in the driveway, the hum of the engine fading as Matt cut the ignition. The air felt heavier in Los Angeles, like the weight of reality had returned to settle back on all of our shoulders.

Nick, Chris, and Matt jumped out first, each grabbing suitcases from the trunk. Charlie and I stepped out slowly, our legs stiff from the long drive. The laughter and lightness of the trip lingered faintly, but the tension of everything unresolved had crept back in with the familiar surroundings.

“Alright, ladies, welcome back to reality,” Nick joked, setting Charlie’s suitcase by the front door.

Charlie grinned, rolling her eyes. “Reality isn’t so bad.” She turned to Chris, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her in for a lingering hug. His forehead rested against hers for a moment before he kissed her softly.

Nick came over next, grinning as he hugged both of us. “Don’t miss me too much, okay? Group dinner soon.”

“You live next door, if I miss you I'll just come over,” Charlie said, nudging him playfully.

When it was Matt’s turn, everything slowed down. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching mine before he finally stepped forward. Without a word, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close in a hug that was almost crushing. His hands gripped the fabric of my shirt like he was afraid to let go, and my cheek pressed against his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart.

I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the embrace for just a second longer than I probably should have. My hands rested lightly on his back, and I could feel the tension in his body, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the space between us.

“Take care of yourself,” he murmured softly, kissing my forehead.

“You too,” I replied, my voice muffled against his chest.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes lingered on mine for a moment before he turned away, walking toward the car with Nick and Chris. I stayed rooted in place, watching as they drove into their driveway the weight of his embrace still lingering like a phantom touch.

Charlie nudged me gently. “You okay?”

I nodded, though my throat felt tight. “Yeah. Let’s go inside.”

As we carried the last of our things in and closed the door behind us, I couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted, but whether it was for the better or worse, I wasn’t sure.

The soft hum of my laptop filled the empty living room as I sat cross-legged on the couch, editing the vlog from our trip. The familiar sound of laughter and waves crashing in the footage felt distant now, almost like a different lifetime.

It had been a week since we got back, and the house felt quieter than ever. Charlie had been spending her nights at the triplets’ place with Chris, leaving me to fend off the creeping loneliness.

The knock on the door was sharp and sudden, making me jump. I froze for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“Y/N, it’s Leo. Open the fucking door!”

My breath hitched, my body instinctively stumbling back a step. My heart raced as I stared at the door, his muffled voice sending a chill down my spine.

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone from the couch, my hands shaking as I scrolled to Charlie’s contact. I hit the call button and pressed the phone to my ear, my gaze fixed on the door like it might burst open at any moment.

“Come on, Charlie, pick up,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat.

The phone rang once, then twice. Just as I was about to hang up and try someone else, Matt’s voice came through.

“Hello?”

The sound of him made the lump in my throat swell. “Matt,” I choked, my voice cracking. “Leo’s here. He’s at my door, yelling. I—I don’t know what to do.”

There was a beat of silence, then the call disconnected without a word.

I stood there frozen, staring at the screen. Did he hang up? My heart pounded as I peeked out the window.

Not even two minutes later, I saw them—Matt and Chris walking down the sidewalk, their faces set in a grim determination. Relief and fear tangled in my chest as I backed away from the window.

The pounding on the door intensified, and Leo’s voice grew louder. “Y/N, don’t make me do this! Open the fucking door!”

Before I could even think, the door swung open, and there was Matt, shoving Leo back with a firm hand. Chris followed close behind, his posture tense as he positioned himself slightly to the side, ready to intervene if needed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Matt growled, his voice low and threatening.

Leo took a step forward, his face twisted in anger. “This has nothing to do with you. I’m here to talk to Y/N.”

Matt’s laugh was humorless. “Yelling and banging on her door like a psycho? That’s how you ‘talk’ to her? You need to leave. Now.”

Leo’s gaze darted to me, standing frozen a few feet back. “She’s mine,” he spat, pointing in my direction. “She knows it, and you all need to stay the hell out of it.”

Tears stinging my eyes as I shook my head. “Leo, we’re done. You wanted a break—”

“A break isn’t a breakup!” Leo shouted, his voice shaking with rage.

Matt stepped forward, his jaw tightening as he blocked Leo’s line of sight to me. “She said it’s over. You don’t get to decide for her.”

Leo’s nostrils flared. “And what about you, huh? You think you can just swoop in and fix everything? You don’t even deserve to be in her life after what you did.”

Matt’s shoulders stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides. “Maybe I don’t. But I’d rather spend the rest of my life making up for my mistakes than treat her like some possession you can just control.”

The tension in the air snapped like a rubber band. Leo shoved Matt hard, and Matt stumbled back a step before retaliating with a hard shove of his own.

Chris stepped forward, his hands raised. “Alright, that’s enough—”

But it wasn’t. Leo swung first, his fist connecting with Matt’s jaw. The sound was sickening, and I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth.

Matt barely flinched. His eyes burned with fury as he swung back, his punch landing squarely against Leo’s cheek. The force sent Leo stumbling back into the porch railing, but he recovered quickly, lunging at Matt again.

The moment Leo lunged at Matt again, my instinct took over, and I stepped forward, desperate to stop it.

“Stop it!” I cried, placing myself between the two of them.

Before I could say more, Leo’s arm swung wide in his anger, and his fist connected squarely with my jaw. The impact sent me stumbling back, my vision flashing white as pain radiated through my jaw.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Chris yelled, rushing toward me.

Leo’s face paled instantly, his hands flying up as if to apologize. “Y/N, I didn’t—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish. Matt’s face contorted into pure rage, his entire body trembling with fury. “You hit her?” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous.

Matt lunged, grabbing Leo by the collar and throwing him to the ground. Before anyone could react, Matt started swinging. His fist collided with Leo’s face over and over again, the sickening thuds echoing through the night.

“Matt! Stop!” I screamed, clutching my throbbing face.

Chris jumped into action, grabbing Matt by the shoulders and trying to pull him back, but Matt was relentless. His fists continued to rain down on Leo, who laid defenseless on the porch, groaning in pain.

“Matt, that’s enough! You’re gonna kill him!” Chris yelled, finally yanking him back with all his strength.

Matt stumbled to his feet, his chest heaving and his hands trembling, bloodied from the fight. He turned to me, his eyes wide with a mixture of rage and concern. “Are you okay? Where does it hurt, sweetheart?”

I nodded shakily, my hand pressing against my aching jaw. Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the scene before me: Leo lying bruised and bleeding out on the ground, Matt trembling with fury, and Chris trying to keep the situation from spiraling further out of control.

Leo groaned, rolling onto his side, and tried to sit up. “Y/N, I—”

“Don’t,” Matt spat, stepping forward again. Chris quickly put a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“You’ve done enough,” Chris said firmly to Leo. “Get out of here before I call the cops.”

Leo’s gaze darted to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. He staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth, and limped away without another word.

The moment he was gone, Matt turned back to me, his hands hovering near my face but not quite touching. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

Chris ran over to his house, running inside to grab Charlie knowing that’s all Y/N wanted. Minutes later Charlie comes sprinting full force out of the front door and across the lawn to reach me, not even waiting for Chris as he runs after her.

Matt’s arms were steady as he scooped me up, cradling me against his chest, and I instinctively buried my face into his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin under the cool fabric. My heart was still racing, but his touch grounded me. He didn’t say anything, just carried me inside with a protective gentleness that made the tears begin to flow.

As he sat down on the couch, he adjusted me so that I was sitting on his lap, holding me close to him as if he would never let go. His hands rubbed up and down my arms, trying to calm me down. The sound of Charlie’s hurried footsteps were heard across the porch before she burst into the living room, eyes wide with concern.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” she gasped, rushing over to me. Without hesitation, she grabbed an ice pack from the fridge and sat beside me, gently pressing it to my swollen face. Her hand brushed the back of my head, and she pulled me closer to her, her voice shaky as she whispered, ��I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

I shook my head, my tears falling harder now, mixing with the ice cold on my face. “No, it’s not,” I sobbed, “It’s just… so embarrassing. I can’t believe this is happening.”

Matt’s hands tightened around me as he placed his head gently on my shoulder. “You don’t have to explain, Y/N. You don’t owe anyone anything,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “We’re here for you. I’m here for you.”

Charlie held me close, her fingers combing through my hair as I leaned against her. “It’s not embarrassing,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

But I couldn’t stop the tears. The weight of the situation felt too much to bear, the embarrassment of it all crushing me. The fight with Leo, Matt’s bloody fists, my bruised face—it felt like it was all too much. “Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t I just have one peaceful night?”

Matt kissed the top of my head, his voice full of regret. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You should’ve never had to go through that. None of it’s your fault. Please remember that.”

I clung to him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, the comfort of having him close. “My face fucking hurts.” I sobbed louder

“It will,” Charlie giggled, squeezing me tighter. “You’re just emotional and thinking your life is over cause you just got socked in the jaw. I promise you’ll be okay when you come back to your senses.” 

I giggle into Matt's chest through my sobs.

The sound of Charlie and Chris’s footsteps faded as they made their way upstairs, leaving Matt and I alone in the living room. I wiped my tears, the sobs starting to die down, but I still felt the weight of everything pressing on me. Matt gently lifted me off his lap, cradling me in his arms as if I was weightless, and carried me toward my bedroom.

I didn’t say anything as he laid me down on the bed, the soft sheets feeling oddly comforting against my skin. He pulled the covers up around me, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of pain or distress.

“I’m gonna go clean up, okay?” he said quietly, voice rough, but it was clear he was doing his best to keep it together.

Before he could leave, I grabbed his wrist, my grip weak but firm. “Matt, please,” I whispered, my voice small, fragile. “Stay.”

He hesitated, looking at me for a moment, the blood on his shirt and hands a reminder of what just happened. He took in a deep breath, the exhaustion in his eyes almost unbearable. “Y/N, I’m a mess,” he said, his voice quiet and unsure. “I’m covered in blood…”

“I don’t care,” I replied, my voice just as quiet. “Please, stay.”

Matt’s gaze softened, and after a moment of contemplation, he nodded. “Alright,” he murmured, stepping back to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back. Just… let me shower first.”

I lay back against the pillow, closing my eyes for a moment as I tried to gather my thoughts, the emotions swirling inside me. My face still hurt, but the sting was nothing compared to the emotional toll everything had taken.

When Matt returned, he was in nothing but his boxers, his hair damp from the shower. He looked different now, calmer, the blood and anger from earlier replaced by something more vulnerable. He crawled into bed beside me, pulling the covers back gently before settling down, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me close. I rested my head against his chest, letting the rise and fall of his breath steady my own.

I had changed into an oversized shirt, the comfort of the fabric a small relief, and I snuggled closer into Matt’s warmth, feeling the tension slowly leave my body.

“I’m here,” Matt whispered, his fingers brushing through my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

I closed my eyes, the warmth of his body beside mine, his steady heartbeat against my ear, lulling me into a sense of calm. I didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, or how everything would play out, but for now, I just needed him here.

In the quiet of the room, with Matt holding me close, I allowed myself to drift into a deep, much-needed sleep, knowing that I wasn’t alone anymore.

I woke up slowly the next morning, the soft hum of the morning light slipping through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. My body was warm, Matt’s arm still draped around me, and for a moment, I felt comforted by the weight of him beside me. Then, as I shifted slightly, I felt a sharp pang of pain in my jaw. I flinched, and the sharp sensation made my breath catch in my throat.

Matt immediately looked down at me, concern flooding his eyes as he noticed my discomfort. “Hey, what’s wrong? What do you need?” he asked softly, his voice filled with worry.

I winced but smiled up at him, despite the pain. “Just… stay with me today, okay?” I whispered, my voice low and fragile. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Matt nodded without hesitation, pulling me a little closer into his chest, his hand softly rubbing my back as if to soothe the unease within me. “Of course,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For the next few hours, we stayed wrapped in the warmth of the bed, doing nothing but lounging and talking in low tones. We flipped through the TV channels, finally landing on an old rom-com that neither of us really cared about but still laughed at together. I didn’t mind the lighthearted distractions; it kept my mind off everything that had happened. We even joked about how cheesy the movie was, poking fun at the overly dramatic dialogue, which lifted my spirits, even if only for a while.

Around noon, we ordered food—comfort food, naturally. Matt had a burger, fries, and a milkshake, while I opted for a simple grilled cheese and tomato soup. As the food arrived, we sat on the couch together, eating while we chatted about nothing in particular. The conversation meandered through random topics—everything from silly stories about the trip to the latest memes we’d seen on Instagram. I felt a small sense of normalcy return, the type of comfort that was hard to come by recently.

After lunch, Matt suggested we try editing the vlog we had filmed on the trip. We moved to the desk in my room, and I set up my laptop while Matt helped sort through the footage. As we watched through the clips, it was almost surreal to see ourselves laughing, joking, and having a good time, knowing everything that had happened since. Matt sat behind me, his hands brushing against mine as we navigated the editing software, his presence a steady anchor.

“You know,” Matt said casually, “this trip wasn’t all bad. There were good parts, too.”

I smiled, glancing at him over my shoulder. “Yeah, the good parts were definitely worth it. And we made some memories, even if things got… messy.”

He chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. “Messy is an understatement.”

Once we wrapped up the vlog, we moved to the living room, deciding it was time to relax with a movie marathon. We picked a series we both enjoyed—one of those mindless, action-packed movies that didn’t require much brainpower. I snuggled up next to him, and we spent the next couple of hours watching as the characters on screen got into wild situations, while we lazily munched on snacks.

By mid-afternoon, we were both a little bored, but content. I glanced over at Matt and suddenly had an idea. “Hey, we should make a TikTok together. Just for fun,” I suggested.

Matt raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What kind of TikTok?”

“Something simple,” I said, grinning. “Just us, having fun, showing people we’re okay.”

He agreed, and I moved closer to him putting on a song we both knew as we lip synced it. As soon as we finished, I put the caption - we uploaded the video, laughing at how cute we both looked in the process. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt good to share something lighthearted.

After the TikTok was posted, we sat back down, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

Later in the afternoon, the doorbell rang, and Matt went to answer it. Moments later, Nick, Chris, and Charlie came into the living room, their expressions a mix of concern and hesitation. Charlie immediately came over, sitting next to me on the couch, her eyes scanning my face as if to gauge how I was holding up.

"Hey," she said softly, her tone cautious. "How are you feeling?"

I sighed, already sensing where this was headed. "I’m fine," I said quickly, waving her off.

Nick and Chris exchanged glances before sitting down across from us. Nick leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You sure, Y/N? You don’t look... you know... great."

I rolled my eyes, shifting uncomfortably under their pitying gazes. "Seriously, guys, I’m fine. You don’t have to—"

"You don’t have to pretend," Chris interrupted gently. "We get it. Yesterday was... a lot."

Matt came back into the room, standing behind the couch with his arms crossed. He looked at me, his jaw tight as if he wanted to jump in and defend me but held back.

Charlie reached for my hand, her voice soft and understanding. "We’re just worried about you, that’s all."

Something about their careful, almost coddling behavior made me snap. I stood up abruptly, pulling my hand away from Charlie and taking a step back. "Can you guys stop treating me like a baby?" My voice was sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. "Yes, yesterday was awful, but I don’t need you walking on eggshells around me. I’m not going to break."

The room fell silent, everyone staring at me in surprise. I crossed my arms over my chest, determined to make my point clear. "Can we just drink or do something fun? Let’s forget yesterday happened, okay? I don’t want to sit here and dwell on it."

Nick was the first to break the tension, standing up with a slow clap. "Well, damn. There she is!" he said with a grin, his tone teasing. 

Chris smirked, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. If that’s what you want, we can do that."

Charlie hesitated for a moment, but then she smiled, standing up to hug me. "Okay, fine. But only if you promise to let us know if you’re not okay. Deal?"

"Deal," I said with a small smile, feeling a little lighter now that they’d backed off.

Matt disappeared into the kitchen and came back a moment later with a bottle of tequila and a mischievous grin. "Guess we’re doing this, then."

Charlie poured two shots, sliding one over to me with a sly grin. “Here’s to forgetting yesterday,” she said, raising her glass. I clinked mine against hers, the sharp sound echoing in the room before we both threw back the tequila. The burn was immediate, but the warmth that followed felt like freedom.

"Alright, our turn," Nick called out, grabbing the bottle. He poured shots for himself, Chris, and Matt. They raised their glasses in unison, Nick declaring, "To... whatever this night turns into!" before downing their shots together.

An hour in, the tequila bottle was half-empty, and I was at least seven shots deep, feeling a buzz that made everything a little brighter and a lot funnier. Charlie was giggling uncontrollably at one of Nick’s terrible jokes, and Chris was trying to teach Matt how to shuffle a deck of cards, which wasn’t going well.

I leaned back on the couch, letting the laughter wash over me before sitting up with a sudden idea. "Okay," I announced, clapping my hands together. "We’re all sufficiently drunk, so I think it’s time for food."

Nick groaned dramatically, as I argued with him to order me an uber to go to McDonalds. “Why can’t we just get it delivered like normal people? UberEats exists for a reason.”

I shook my head stubbornly, the tequila making me bold. “Nope. I want fresh fries, not ones that have been sitting in someone’s car for twenty minutes.”

Charlie clapped her hands in agreement, laughing. “She’s got a point, Nick. Nothing hits like fresh McDonald’s fries.”

Nick sighed, pulling out his phone. “Fine, I’ll order the Uber. But if I get a bad rating because of you, you owe me.”

“I’ll owe you fries!” I yelled at him.

Charlie jumped up from her seat, nearly tripping over the coffee table in her excitement. “I’m coming with you, Y/N!”

Before I could reply, Matt shot up from his spot on the couch, his drunk eyes narrowing. “Absolutely not.”

Charlie and I both turned to him in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘absolutely not?’” Charlie asked, crossing her arms.

Matt crossed the room, standing in front of us like a protective wall. “I don’t trust two drunk girls to go to McDonald’s in the middle of the night. I’m coming with you.”

Nick smirked, looking up from his phone. “Tough guy Matt activated.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, grabbing my purse. “As long as we get fries, I don’t care who comes.”

A few minutes later, the Uber arrived, and Matt made sure both Charlie and I were buckled. 

The Uber driver was a middle-aged man with a cocky grin plastered across his face. The moment we got into the car, he started with a casual comment. “So, what brings you guys out this late?” His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, locking on me with just a little too much interest.

I was too tipsy to care at first, so I laughed and answered, “The holy grail. Fries.”

He chuckled, a little too enthusiastically. “You’ve got good taste. A pretty girl like you deserves fresh fries, not cold ones.”

Matt stiffened beside me, his jaw tightening as he stared out the window, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. I could practically feel the tension radiating off of him, but he didn’t say a word.

The driver wasn’t done. “So, you’re from around here? If you ever need a ride again, maybe you can give me a call directly.”

Matt’s head snapped toward him, but he stayed silent, clearly trying to keep his cool. I knew he didn’t want Nick’s Uber rating to take a hit, but the frustration in his eyes was evident.

Feeling bold and a little spiteful, I decided to stir the pot. “Oh, actually—” I said sweetly, cutting myself off as I unbuckled and shifted in my seat climbing into Matt’s lap, straddling him. His hands instinctively gripped my hips, his eyes widening in surprise as I leaned in.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Matt started, his voice low and intrigued.

“Showing him who I belong too” I pressed my lips to his, kissing him. He deepened the kiss by grabbing the back of my head to pull my face in closer, while his other hand tightened on my hip. The kiss was hot and intense, fueled by tequila and adrenaline.

I could feel the driver’s gaze darting nervously to the rearview mirror, but I didn’t care. If he wanted to flirt, he could deal with the consequences.

Matt finally pulled back slightly, his breath hot against my lips. “I'm going to have a boner now.” he whispered, though his voice held more amusement than anger.

“Good,” I whispered back, a smug smile on my face.

He groaned softly, shaking his head but unable to hide the small grin tugging at his lips. The rest of the ride was silent except for Charlie’s giggles beside us. By the time we got to McDonald’s, the driver seemed thoroughly flustered, and Matt looked like he was ready to strangle me—but not in a bad way.

The Uber pulled up to the house, and as the driver put the car in park, I turned to him with an exaggeratedly sweet smile, still feeling the tequila running through my veins. "Thank you, mister!" I chirped, leaning forward to kiss his cheek dramatically.

Matt's grip on the bags tightened, and before I could pull back, I felt a sharp smack on my butt. "Let’s go," he growled lowly, his hand lingering on my hip as he gently guided me toward the door. His touch sent a jolt through me, but I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing as we walked up the driveway.

When we stepped inside, the smell of tequila still clung to us, and Charlie was already grinning, ready to spill. “Oh my god, you guys are NOT gonna believe what just happened!” she squealed, making a beeline for Chris and Nick, who were sprawled on the couch.

“What now?” Nick asked, raising an eyebrow as he handed Chris another beer.

Charlie threw herself onto the couch dramatically. “So, we’re in the Uber, and the driver’s this totally creepy older dude, right? He keeps flirting with Y/N—like full-on, ‘call me directly for rides’ flirting. Matt’s sitting there, probably about two seconds from exploding, but he’s holding it in for Nick’s Uber rating. Like, he’s fuming, jaw clenching, hands in fists—the whole thing.”

Chris chuckled, leaning forward. “Oh no, what did she do?”

“She climbs onto Matt’s lap,” Charlie continued, her eyes wide for effect, “like, full straddle. And then she starts making out with him—like, right there in the Uber. I swear the driver looked like he was about to cry.”

Nick nearly choked on his drink. “No way.”

“Oh, it gets better,” Charlie added, holding up a finger. “When we get to the house, she kisses the guy on the cheek—like a little ‘thank you’—and Matt smacks her ass and says, ‘Let’s go.’ It was like something out of a movie.”

Chris doubled over laughing, while Nick shook his head, his mouth open in disbelief. “I cannot leave you two alone for one second. You’re both absolute menaces.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, plopping onto the couch beside Matt, who rolled his eyes but pulled me into his side anyway. His arm draped protectively around my shoulders as the group erupted into more laughter, reliving the story like it was the most ridiculous thing they’d ever heard. 

The party kept going, the energy in the house reaching a chaotic peak. Chris and Charlie were in some kind of dramatic arm-wrestling competition, Nick was trying to convince everyone he could do a backflip off the couch, and I was doubled over laughing at… honestly, I wasn’t even sure what. Everything just felt hilarious.

Matt stood from the couch and stretched, his voice cutting through the noise. “Alright, it’s time for bed,” he said, looking directly at me with a pointed expression.

I grinned at him, feeling bold and bubbly from all the shots. “I’m going to bed with Matt!” I shouted, throwing my hands in the air for dramatic effect.

The room erupted into laughter, everyone yelling, “Goodnight, Y/N!” in unison like it was some inside joke we all shared.

Matt shook his head but grabbed my hand, leading me toward the stairs. I stumbled a little but let him guide me, giggling the whole way. Once we got to the bedroom, he pulled off his shirt and jeans being left in just boxers. I stood in the middle of the room, trying to yank my hoodie over my head without falling over. Eventually, I managed to kick off my shoes and flop onto the bed in just my oversized t-shirt.

Matt climbed into bed, leaning back against the headboard, looking like he was about to say something. But before he could, I crawled onto his lap, straddling his waist. My hands cupped his face, and I leaned down, pressing my lips to his in a messy, needy kiss.

His hands found my hips, steadying me as he kissed back harder “Y/N,” he murmured against my lips, his voice muffled but firm.

“Hmm?” I kissed him again, trailing my hands down his chest as I grinned against his mouth. “What is it?”

“Y/N,” he said again, pulling back slightly. His forehead pressed against mine, and I could feel his breath, warm and shaky. “We can’t… not like this.”

“Why not?” I pouted, tilting my head as I brushed my lips along his jaw. “I want you, Matt. Right now.”

He let out a deep sigh, his grip on my hips tightening slightly before he loosened it. “I don’t want to do this for the first time again while we’re drunk,” he said softly, his eyes locking with mine. “I want it to mean something. I want you to remember it—every part of it.”

I blinked at him, my drunken haze making his words sink in slower than usual. “That’s… sweet,” I mumbled, though I wasn’t fully ready to give up. I leaned in again, “Lets just… Kiss than” I smashed my lips back into his rougher than before.

“Just. Kiss. Than,” He said each word in between kissing,

I grinded my hips into his as I felt his erection grow under me, I moved my lips to his jaw, and finally to his neck where I sucked and bit it softly making sure to leave marks. I continued rolling my hips into him while he was a moaning mess.

“Fuck your making this really hard,” he said through a moan. 

“Good.” I said as my hands grabbed his neck connecting my lips back to his.

After a few more minutes of making out he lifted my hips off him and placed me on the bed next to him.

“Your done. My dick actually hurts” he said, laying down pulling me into him. I giggled as I snuggled into his chest.

“Goodnight sweetheart” He said as he kissed my forehead.

I closed my eyes, the weight of the night finally catching up to me, and fell asleep to the sound of his breathing, feeling more content than I cared to admit.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @sturnsvelocity @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

[theimaginatrix27]

Pinned Post At Last!

Finally making one of these!

Hi, I'm Trix! I write stuff! And sing stuff sometimes! And am looking into branching out into podfic territory!

I'm also totally blind, Ace and Australian! And a Christian who knows when to mind her business and is determined to not be a bigoted arsehole (I may not always know if I'm failing at this, but I was raised with the understanding we never stop learning and growing unless we're arrogant enough to believe we don't need to anymore). Vehemently anti-Capitalist, hate bigotry in all its forms, think progressives need to stop with the bullying because abuse and harassment have no correct target, and am working hard at being kind and open-minded.

List of important sideblogs:

Main writing sideblog, for discussions about writing, including fanfiction, though it's mostly full of reblogged writing advice as of now (this will change): @imaginatrixproductions

My sideblog specifically for my biggest ficverse, including reblogs I feel are relevant to it: @themaginitechronicles

My political blog, where I have somewhat sporadically been reblogging political posts I agree with: @politicallytrix

Tumblr changed how you select blogs to post to recently so I've had a bit of a tough time adjusting and haven't reblogged/posted to my sideblogs much lately, but I'll get back into it, promise!

The great big list of fandoms!

Dragon Ball

Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters, and its first two spinoffs

Pokémon

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (the 2003 version)

Winx Club

Avatar: The Last Airbender/LoK to a lesser degree

The Sevenwaters series, Blackthorn and Grim trilogy, and Warrior Bards trilogy, all by Juliet Marillier

The Deltora Quest and Rowan of Rin series by Emily Rodda

Steven Universe

Star Trek, though notably not Star Trek: Picard. I may give Discovery and Prodigy a go but I am of the opinion that ST:PIC was unnecessary nostalgia bait and they should've let those characters (and actors) rest. And not doing so led to some things being technically canon that I have firmly rejected.

To be more specific, though, my main Treks are TNG, Voyager, and most important of all, Deep Space Nine.

Fairy tales! (Yes, this counts as a fandom. And it has bled into a lot of things I write, even the fics that aren't specifically fairy tale retellings).

Aaaand I think that's everything that needs covering for now! Enjoy yourselves, and don't be mean or I shall block you.

[box-architecture]

I was rereading some of your stuff on Ao3, and went “huh. I know Sapnap kidnaps Dream out of a misguided idea of what’s happening at one point, but how does that all go? How did Dream react? What was Sapnap like?”

So now I’m asking you. At 12:20 am. I have class in 7.5 hours!

Okay so we're going to ignore how long this has been sitting in my drafts, half answered. Okay? Okay. Awesome

-

So at some point during the Discovery Of Many Kinks (because when you're having a weird poly relationship with your former Warden, you're going to try a bunch of different things. For Science) awesamdrunz attempt to do a sex tape. It gets left around and found within like three days. By Sapnap.

So of course because of burning curiosity he has to watch the mysterious tape to see whats on it.

Then the only reason he kept watching was shock and also trying to figure out who the hell the third person was, why they looked familiar but also what the hell happened to them. Fun ways to find out your former best friend wasn't lying when he said he was horrifically tortured by your kind-of finance: finding his sex tape.

And listen, originally it was a fun crack idea to have him see this relationship nonsense where awesamdrunz was basically fucking in sex dungeons (made by Sam) after kidnappings, and decided that this was actually a really good template to fix his own relationship. He ends up trapping Quackity and Karl in what might be a previously unused sex dungeon!

(Resounding success: both of his boyfriends did not murder each other (due to bars in between them) and even spoke to each other in order to escape. This is the most progress he's had in months.)

But then! Alternate Idea! Sapnap sees the sex tape and (honestly not unfairly given his prior knowledge) believes Punz & Sam are at minimum, pressuring Dream into this relationship, and somehow this is a worse crime than murder. No wonder Dream couldn't stay in the prison! (Which. Not inaccurate.) So Sapnap sets about needing to find and protect Dream.

Sapnap finds Dream, and tries to convince him that he'll protect him. Dream is confused about what Sapnap saw, and has a tough time refuting anything. He also does really miss his friend. So he,,, doesn't really fight when Sapnap takes him to a secondary location.

-

"The windows are nice. Not as defensible, but you'll know if the enemy approaches." Dream commented, staring at the cloud-covered sea.

Sapnap laughed nervously, pulling open kitchen cupboards. "Yeah, I don't know. There shouldn't be any way for someone to find us out here though; its not like I told anyone where we were going."

Dream pursed his lips, but said nothing, eyes following the way the waves crashed against the shitty boardwalk Sapnap cobbled together half asleep. He figured Dream wouldn't want to be cooped up in the cottage all the time, not after… everything, so they could go sit out on the beach and fish, maybe, or go look for seashells. They hadn't built a sandcastle since they were kids, either, so it would definitely be something fun to try. Just like old times.

The wheat was crumbling in his hands, so Sapnap quickly tossed it on the counter.

"Are you hungry?" He called out, trying for a bit more cheer. Dream's gaze pulled to his, and Sapnap began pulling more ingredients out on the granite. "I know I'm not usually the person who cooks, but I've been getting into it lately! I made rabbit stew for Karl the other day, and he didn't even make a face when he was chewing."

He didn't really think about the potatoes as he dumped them into the sink, but he did notice the way Dream flinched, drawing in on himself and towards the doorway.

"Dream?"

"Just…" Dream looked back out into the sea. His fingers, what remained of them, dug into the fabric of his pants. "Nothing with potatoes. Please."

Sapnap felt his anxiety roll like the tide.

"Yeah, dude, that's cool. Doesn't sound appealing right now anyway." He said uncertainly. Dream's shoulders relaxed marginally, but Sapnap still felt off. "Anything you're in the mood for, though? Beet soup? Cheese sandwich?"

"Whatever you cook is fine." Dream reassured him. A brittle, but teasing edge appeared in his smile. "Unless you somehow got worse at baking bread."

He had, but god forbid would he ever admit to that. He grinned, and sat up on the counter. "Oh, like you're so good at it. I tried your stupid 'Everything' bread, and it tasted like ash."

"You turned off the timer and it burned."

"Well maybe next time don't leave random timers on the oven and expect anyone to know what they're for."

"Maybe next time you should assume its there for a reason and not touch it." Dream said in exasperation. Sapnap stuck his tongue out, and Dream threw his hands up, exiting the kitchen. He was so dramatic, Sapnap thought fondly.

-

Its a lot of Sapnap attempting to reestablish their previous connection and realizing how much Dream has changed, and staring at the scars when he thinks Dream isn't looking. He gets Super Protective and promises he wont let anything else happen to him. Dream is instinctively upset (why now, why does it matter now, why do you care, I am Perfectly Fine) but its one of his People and he is So Tired.

Sapnap is sorta kinda keeping Dream with him. It's not exactly against Dream's will, but it's also like, if Dream could walk out the door and come back later without Sapnap freaking out he'd rather do that. But Sapnap is freaking out, and seems to believe that there is a credible threat against Dream if he leaves. Given Sapnap's previous relationship with Quackity, Dream is willing to believe he might know something and that alone makes him anxious enough that he wants to stay.

Sapnap gets more horrified the longer he's with Dream (Dream flinches under his touches, his fingers are gone, Dream makes a snide comment about Quackity when Sapnap asks about the scars,) and this only convinces him more that clearly he needs to be protecting Dream. Sapnap expresses a lot of fury towards Sam, and Dream doesn't have any good arguments against it. There's a lot of stuff that he just sorta, decided to ignore, and now that coming back up is messing with him.

They get into a brief yelling match when Dream gets tired of what he presumes is pity and fake behavior, and it ends with Sapnap holding Dream to keep him from leaving or collapsing.

(The irony(?) of Dream comforting Sapnap for most of his life only for them to switch places in this moment is not lost on him.)

He gets to snuggle with him under the covers and gets a kiss on the chin (Dream is half asleep, and thinking about how much he missed him.)

Meanwhile, Punz is going to Murder Sapnap.

Punz has no context for why Sapnap took Dream so he is assuming Sapnap is going to attempt to imprison Dream again (after failing to kill him) and while he is 100 percent confident in Dreams abilities he also is aware that Sapnap is one of Dreams People and therefore capable of hurting Dream emotionally. Hurting Dream is Not Allowed.

Sam is having a panic attack because Dream isn't within sight line and isn't with Punz and therefore everything is Wrong and Bad in his world.

When you finally get a confrontation between Sam and Sapnap (because at this point, they don't know that Sapnap knows about Punz, so Sam is going in first), Sapnap responds viciously, tearing into Sam both for the scars on Dream's body, but also stating he knew they were fucking, and there's no way that's even remotely acceptable given the position of power Sam had (he's not wrong. this is a true statement of fact for everything that occurred prior to the prison break. it's just that things got weird after that). Sam has no good rebuttal, and faced with violence from Sap, has to flee. He's left shaken from everything.

Dream: listen he may have enabled my torture and abuse, and starved and isolated me, and accepted sexual favors from me while being in a position of power over me But he's also a very sad wet cat of a man, and I'm a control freak

Punz tries to talk with Sapnap on slightly less,,, angry grounds? On his part. Knowing about the interaction with Sam, he feels better about the fact Dream is probably safe and Sapnap probably has good reason for what he's doing.

To be clear though, Sapnap is furious with Punz. Right out of the gate he reveals he knows Punz was involved. At first, he's assuming that Punz was paid off to help Sam, but Punz decides "fuck it" and reveals at least part of things. He explains he was working with Dream after the prison break, that he felt bad for betraying him, and that they had a relationship. Dream wanted to involve Sam post-prison, Punz was against it, but wanted Dream to be safe.

Sapnap: you're forcing him to do this! Punz: I DON'T EVEN WANT HIM TO BE DOING THIS Sam: >:(

Sapnap needs to take some time to processes that, but he then presses to clarify; Dream and Sam had a relationship while Dream was in prison? Yes.

Sam had a hand in the torture and Dream's condition? Also yes.

After he broke out, despite all of this, Dream still felt like he wanted to return to Sam? Yes.

Sapnap: And you LET him?!

Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, other than Dream is his own person, and Punz can't stop him from doing what he wants with his life. To which Sapnap responds, yes you can motherfucker

It's a very fundamentally rift in their two perspectives. Punz, particularly post-prison, couldn't morally justify restricting Dream or telling him how to life his life or cope. Sapnap, thinks that Dream was not in a position to make a choice like that.

Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, it's the exact thing he's been feeling guilty over. So he ends up leaving, Not for forever. Just to think.

Meanwhile, Dream overheard everything. He now understands what Sapnap is seeing as the "real issue" (or at least, the current threat at hand), and he knows that he's going to make his own choice here.

Dream: I understand that my decisions are problematic but have you ever considered that I've made my choices and will continue to make them, even if you don't agree Sapnap: NO

Dream tells Sapnap gently that he's leaving now. He wants to go back. Sapnap doesn't want him to, he makes fair arguments about how much Dream could be hurt here. Dream understands, but he's also an adult, and he's decided what he wants. He's forgiven his stupid creeper hybrid boyfriend. It might not make sense to, but he has. It's his choice in the end.

Sapnap doesn't like it, there's a long people where he's just holding Dream and in tears. He's apologized a lot. For leaving Dream there. He says it again for good measure. Dream gives him a soft kiss on the forehead and he doesn't say it's okay, but he does say that he loves him. That it will be okay.

Dream has to go now, but he promises to come back, they set a time and they get to just spend time together. Talking about things one at a time.

(Sapnap and Dream see each other a lot now, as he slowly enters Dream's life again. Occupying his space and checking up on him and fretting. They get more kisses, more cuddles in bed. Once a week they come back to their little cottage and grow something that isn't what they used to have, but its still good, and its full of love.)

Later, Dream will be reassuring Punz that he made the best choices he could make, sighing and pulling Sam out of his prison depression hole. Kidnapping once again proves to be a great way to solve problems.

[crystalpallette]

Hello, deranged doppelquestioner here once again at 01:02 to ask the question:

How does Carbuncle have merch, let alone bootleg merch, if The Arles(collective) also have Carbuncle.

BETTER QUESTION UNLOCKED: Is Satan rich and famous and turned Carbuncle into merch(possibly puyoesque video games?) which has since been rippes off, and did The Arles take him anyways. Are The Arles down to do crime. Are The Arles down to do gay? To others because I just realized how that sounds im not that sleepy yet. They have a good role model in Ally.

Have a good day btw :3

Hi this just occured to me id have put it in the last post if I could have. Rarle and Blarle, That is all. -Dopplepondererer at approximately 01:12

rarle and blarle is hysterical thank you so much. to (finally) answer your question: the short answer is that it's "carbuncle" merch in the way that all "simple white rabbit" merch is miffy merch, if that makes sense?

the long answer is. well. i drew it.

the longer answer, because that technically doesn't answer the question very clearly either, is that this is word-of-god retconning to justify giving them something that realistically would not exist. it's "totally generic yellow rabbit" that totally isn't carbuncle. no see look the yellow rabbit doesn't have a rubelcrack. but it is... carbuncle. i swear. for the rest of the ask; i have no idea where satan is? maybe he's the ~enigmatic masked headmaster~ again. maybe he's a teacher. maybe he's... the arles's weird family friend? i'm imagining the arles live apart from their parents for [INSERT REASON HERE] and maybe satan is the dude that checks in on them sometimes on behalf of their parents. i'll figure out where he goes someday. the arles are also infinitely down to be gay do crime, though arle would need a bit more convincing than doppel. they do have a good role model in ally, tbh all of us should follow her example. love everyone and be gay about it

[mintandcreme]

:)

[alagaisia]

I don’t want to be at work today I want to be home working on the cabinet I’m building

[pillowenvelopchair]

Hey guys!! this is just my insane ramble on Still Waters Run Deep that's made by the lovely @un-local. I've had so so sooooo many thoughts about this fic and I decided to try and put it all coherently in a post :)

Probably not a lot of new insights, just many, many rambles

Magdalene analysis and her view on Rogier + some other stuff

Magdalene, at the start of the story, is aimless and refuses to follow any line of Grace, putting off whatever it leads to and going in the opposite direction. Yet Grace is fickle, and it all eventually converges, so she gives in. (aaaand a life-changing partnership ensues)

She wants out of the competition of becoming Elden Lord, and she wants nothing to do with it. Someone else to take lordship is what she wants. Magdalene, in her eyes, is not worthy to take the throne. But Rogier on the other hand…

Rogier is, quite literally, built different. He thinks differently compared to Magdalene (a STR vs INT user difference lol). He’s able to pick out all the details that she would miss. Be able to extrapolate and examine it all and be able to learn from it. Magdalene can't do that.

It's basically:

Rogier: says some fun facts about the most random thing in the room, saying all the history behind it, and what the tiny details could mean Magdalene: yeah, that's a rock.

So instead, she becomes a tool for Rogier to be able to use, because that's the least she can do for him.

“She can already feel the faint grin forming on her lips at the thought. She never wanted to be Elden Lord. She’d finally picked up and followed grace to... to get away, with no idea what it called her to do. When Melina told her where it led her, she felt only dread. But Rogier... To save Those Who Live in Death... Two birds, one stone. She meets his eyes, and doesn’t look away. In them, she doesn’t see pride, or avarice. She doesn't see a man who wants to rule the world. Not at all. The path forward is clear now.” -Chapter 22

For once, she really sees a light from the dark future she sees. She's hopeful that she won't have to take the throne, that Rogier can burden it instead of her. He's worthy in her eyes and because of that, she devotes herself to him with all she can do. (Ah but… I believe Rogier wants her to be Elden Lord? Not sure but her not wanting to be Elden Lord doesn’t quite fit with what he has planned)

Magdalene really holds onto Rogier, and his guidance (a comfort wizard, if you will). And so the idea that he won’t make it… that she’ll be left alone with Grace again, forced to join back into the competition for lordship... It's sickening to her. So she really clings to him, desperate to not be left alone with a destiny that she despises.

Magdalene is always pulled into different directions. Grace pulls her to one but she pulls herself to the opposite one. Fia and D are both on extreme sides of the spectrum on Rogier's survival, and Magdalene is caught right in the middle of it.

But for her, Rogier will survive, he has to survive otherwise... that light, that small hope she has will all fade into obscurity.

Ghosts from the past (Lorens and Ida)

I absolutely love how something, or rather, someone haunts both of them.

Lorens had been the catalyst of all of what Rogier does now. Why he’s so desperate to save those who live in death. He's literally devoted his body and mind to Lorens just to see him alive (maybe Rogier's devoting all of himself to finding a solution to death because he wants it to come back to the old times when it was just him and Lorens in the Rise, or maybe not!! I'm just rambling lol).

Every thought of Lorens is painted with a sort of bittersweetness to it. From Rogier's perspective, at the very least (I'm super curious as to how Lorens would view Rogier but we'll probably never get it because... you know...). He's almost obsessed with him, and it's all pretty unhealthy lol.

Magdalene, who’s haunted by Ida who's probably a sort of lover that hadn't been fully brought to fruition. Different opinions on what they have had made Magdalene leave with (from what I have seen at least, we have scrapes of her, people! I can't wait to see more of Ida though)

Now with Ida... Magdalene absolutely shakes herself out of every thought she has about Ida. Spurning every single thought or imagination she has of that woman.

"Nausea comes in waves. Fever. She can feel delirium taking her—she’s convinced she’s submerged in the very waters of creation, for a while. She vividly feels herself sinking deeper and deeper into a current; cold and dark and inescapable. As it pulls her down, she’s overcome with the instinct to breathe it in— Against her temple she feels a hand, with gentle fingers dragging softly through her hair. Suddenly, every layer of the dream collapses in on itself, and she jolts awake with a gasp.  Here, in Liurnia, she hauls herself up, rubbing at her face. Even the memory is a shock of cold water to her. She’s a woman haunted." -Chapter 23

(I just really love this part- I can't help it)

I think it's also really interesting how Magdalene leaves Ida due to their differences in what they have (?) while Rogier just absolutely hangs onto Lorens no matter what, despite him being... er... him. Not so sure about his personality with the small flashbacks we get of him but he’s probably not good for Rogier.

In short, Rogier venerates Lorens, while Magdalene absolutely rejects Ida. (Opposites!)

Rogier’s overthinking

Also found it interesting that when Rogier thinks he really thinks. He's a professional overthinker, even in the past

"He thinks of the labyrinthian etiquette, the way he’d triple-check every sentence for a double meaning. The secrets, the ruthless political schemes. It all felt like a spider’s web to him. He’d learned the game, and he played it well, but it had been nothing but paranoia and misery for him. Just like it was for everyone else." -Chapter 17

It's what's kept him alive (Ch. 17), and what's been able to pave the way for his findings Yet, it’s also his curse. He tries to pick out every detail that he can and think of every possible reason or motivation. Every single outcome he just needs to know so that he won't get caught by surprise again. He needs to be in control of the situation, he needs to be the master of the chessboard.

Oh and once this guy spirals, he really spirals. He starts thinking and looking at details, rewinding every single thing, every interaction, and trying to label a reason for every little thing. Yet... something emotional seems to break the surface of the water.

I personally think that he was raised to overthink. He was a noble after all, and he dealt with politics. He truly needed to check, double check, triple check, every single sentence and word in case it would have a double meaning. "He’d learned the game, and he played it well" (Ch. 17) . Getting worse after Lorens' death, being fooled by "Only a cut." (Ch. 25) and seeing the aftermath of it.

He can't not do it because if he doesn't, and he gets surprised it would break him (or at the very least, freak him out).

ALSO!! Rogier hating on "saccharine conversations" (Ch. 17) good lord. This guy cannot be real with anyone. Rogier refuses to show vulnerability because:

1. He was raised like that (the whole attachment theory thing) 2. He will absolutely break if he does

Do you guys remember when Fia tells Magdalene that "dear Rogier began to weep as he spoke" (Ch.14)? Fia saw through Rogier's walls through the cracks and he just absolutely breaks down. (Get yourself a man who, after "embracing" tells you all about this thing he's obsessed about and then cries because of it)

It's a mortifying ordeal, that someone's able to see through the walls you've meticulously put up. It hits something deep within that he’s tried to bury.

Despite the walls he puts up people other than Fia see through them. Magdalene (Ch.7) was able to see through the small cracks that have broken, and Roderika... hoo she really hit a nerve didn’t she? (But it also hit one of her nerves too, Rogier vs Roderika am I right?)

Chapter 17 analysis

Also, while we’re on the topic of Roderika, let's talk about chapter 17! Seems I have a lot to talk about.

I absolutely love this chapter so much, it gives us so much insight into Rogier's backstory and the way he thinks. His noble background really shines through here, with how he acts with Roderika who is a fellow ex-noble too.

"His grin is wide and carefree, but it rather feels like he's baring his teeth.  There’s no room for your pity here." -Chapter 17

This guy cannot accept any sign of sympathy/compassion with anyone. It's all pity to him, and he absolutely hates pity. Once Roderika starts to console him too it sickens him and it makes him bare his teeth like an animal, his baser instinct showing just a little bit.

He’s probably bore his teeth to other nobles in the court, or whatever meetings they have with one another. Small threats that get the message across by a vicious smile, is something he is all too familiar with.

I also think that it's a little bit funny how he gives advice to Roderika but then is also a little bit of a hypocrite about it

“It’s hard, to leave it behind. But the old world will keep its claws in you, if you let it.” -Chapter 17

Rogier while it's not his past life that he's stuck but rather, he is stuck on Lorens. Even though Rogier is no longer Lorens' student, even though Lorens is dead, he still has his claws on Rogier. It's his entire motivation, why he's in a "pathetic" state now. He isn't letting those claws go, he lets them dig deeper within him, and they dig in deep.

“You already have it within you," he says. "They were only trying to bury it.” -Chapter 17

Rogier immediately buries his own emotions in this interaction when Roderika tries to console him lol. Just based off of him being an ex-noble and his whole family thing, it's well established that he is very much used to burying it all down his gullet. I mean, is it really Rogier without emotional suppression?

Also Rogier tends to close off all the matters that relate to what he feels in his dialogue both in game and in SWRD. This guy cannot let out just a slight moment of vulnerability

A Color Theory Thing on my read on Rogier's garb:

Rogier, with his background being grounded in nobility has suppressed his baser desires in exchange for meaningless political schemes that have only brought him misery. Yet after coming to these lands, he finds himself with Lorens.

He wears a Raya Lucarian Robe and it has red on it. It's a sign of baser instincts being shown for once. He has grown an infatuation with Lorens despite being his student.

Yet, Rogier is still mostly blue, and he still suppresses that baser desire that he’s developed, that infatuation for Lorens. He never once builds up the courage to be able to tell Lorens what he feels. He would always bury those feelings down, and as a result he can't let go of it. It's far too deep to be buried back up.

But once Lorens has died, Rogier changes too.

He exchanges those garbs for yellow and turquoise (I think?). He's a mix of colors and beliefs.

He still has the blue in the turquoise, which symbolizes calm, intelligence, and emotional control (you can’t spell Rogier without emotional control) But turquoise isn't just blue, it also has green.

Green represents growth, life, and new beginnings. This is a new beginning for Rogier, who's set out for a new goal, to be able to save those who live in death (and perhaps give them life? Not so sure on that but in SWRD that seems to be the case with Lorens).

It's balanced by yellow. Creativity and originality, he's almost the only person we meet who wants to save TWLID. Not only that but yellow also symbolizes illness, which could be a foreshadowing of what happens to him later in his life.

It's not just sickness though, yellow also symbolizes deception. Rogier lies, but I necessarily think he's someone who is always deceptive. He's more like the type of guy who would lie so that an encounter would go well or not hurt someone else's feelings. I think he's like that from that whole ex-nobility thing he's got going on. Political schemes and lying through a smile is something that he's familiar with. (It also doesn't help that he keeps being emotionally suppressed too lol)

Cowardice is another. Rogier is scared to tell anyone about his emotions, to take that risk of being honest with someone. His background in nobility and his family definitely doesn't help either.

Rogier had been too scared to be true to Lorens and tell him his feelings, and because of that, he would never be able to. I feel like he's avoided it even more afterward. He refuses to take that jump of being honest with someone, whether it's about his emotions or his ideals, he doesn't let them go.

But when he does? With D, it completely breaks off everything they've had. Everything that they could have been.

"Beguiled fool. A rotten, sick bastard. Fouled by them. A wicked, two-faced user. Heartless. Loathsome parasite. How could he? Were they not supposed to set this crooked world straight? Profane. A perversion of honor. A madman." -Chapter 5

“Get out of my sight.” “I’m sorry.” He’d said, and he was. But Darian’s lips curled back, and he jerked his head away and locked his eyes on the horizon. His jaw twitched, in the moment he took to reply.  “Don’t talk to me.” There was nothing he could do to fix this. To undo his mistakes, to spare Darian his intentions." -Chapter 5

It's all gone because he had been honest about his goals (presumably). This experience probably strengthened that emotional suppression so as to not be hurt/caught by surprise.

So when Magdalene, someone who wholeheartedly accepts his ideals and sees his side for once, he's cautious. He can't believe that someone can genuinely agree with him because all the times that he has been honest, he's been punished for it. (though, he reminds himself that she's not like that)

In short, this guy's a mixed bag. A mixed bag with problems

(basing this off of the Elden Ring color theory video, it was an absolute joy to watch)

[EDIT]: idk what to call this section but he seems to seek out some form of approval. Lets see how that ties in with his grief!

"He still doesn’t understand why. What did he do, specifically? Or was he just past his usefulness? Deemed unfit to rule? He never truly wanted to rule as Lord, but to be cast aside so indifferently—it had shaken him.  Every now and then he fumbles with this, again and again, but he knows. He does. He knows that grace has forsaken him for good reason. He’s a heretic. An apostate. He who does not obediently bow before a faltering, decrepit Order, so ill-equipped to handle the world as it is. " -Chapter 5

"All these years. Couldn’t change a thing. Rather pathetic, I’d say—what a fool, thinking that this crooked world could be made right by mortal hands. Sure, deathblight. Truly, a fitting end for a worthless, rotten bastard." -Chapter 12

Now, speaking from some personal experience, being raised in a family that's of nobility and expects so much out of you from a young age definitely breeds some kind of self-worth issues that really stick with you. Especially if you haven't had anyone to truly support you.

Because of that, I believe that Rogier, in a way, is trying to prove his worth. But not to the Order, I think that he's in some way trying to please Lorens. Even in death.

He puts everything into his studies of Death, searching and scouring for scraps of information just to give him a single lead on anything, and for what?

"Its fulfillment will be a selfish act of altruism. These crooked lands will set right, by his hands, for a reward of nothing at all. But make no mistake: he needs another day. And another after that, and another after that. He needs his questions answered with questions, he needs his notes corrected in an unreadable hand, he needs to hear one more “Well—” followed by the most opaque, convoluted tangle of sentences ever constructed. There’s no reward he seeks, but the warm smile of cold gray eyes and a scoff about just what he’s wearing nowadays. " -Chapter 19

Rogier devotes himself to saving TWLID (saving Lorens, in reality), but it's not because it's all for selfless reasons, he seems to want things to go back to the way things used to be. Back at the Rise, with just him and Lorens once more.

I don't think Rogier ever accepted Lorens' death. He's determined to bring back Lorens, desperately trying to find a solution to bring him back no matter what.

And it’s quite hypocritical isnt it? That Rogier wants to change the Order to be able to sort of… revive Lorens from Death. To go back to the old times that they both had had.

This guy refuses to grieve and is searching (desperately) for a solution for a dead man who's probably not even good for him. Get this man some therapy

This entire post's summary is just me going:

Anyway, that's all for my crazy rambles! I can't wait to see how SWRD will progress, and how everyone will intermingle and grow with one another (Rogier and Mags)!!!! :0)

Have some doodles + a WIP that I'll probably never finish as a treat for reading this! (Mag's torso was wayyy too long on the second one oops)

(bonus boggart because I love him)

[bmpmp3]

after six years of the game being out and after three and a half years of me actually playing the game i have finally beat botw. did u know finishing video games is. fun,,

[yououghtaknow]

they weren’t lying, that going outside, talking to people, going on a walk to get a little drink from the gas station really helps your mental health

[kisses4reid]

convenient | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - studying while working at a convenience store is easier that thought when a regular happens to be a genius.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

warnings - school work, that always scares me. they’re the same age!!! early 20s. mention of condoms.

edit - bc this is getting so much love, i’m opening a taglist for part 2!!! just comment or put in a req to join the ‘convenient’ taglist 🫶

the chime of the door didn’t phase you, the creaks and squeaks of the store slowly becoming one with you. flipping onto the next page of your biology textbook, something that was unnecessarily expensive, you shake your hand to get rid of the cramp you slowly became aware of.

it was only when a wave of man’s cologne and a plastic bag stood in front of you that you ripped your eyes off of your books.

he was tall, skinny, had long(ish) hair and looked amazing. there wasn’t really anything else to say, other than that the thin smile he displayed toward you made you smile back.

“just these for today?” you ask, fixing your posture and pushing some loose strands back to their place behind your ears.

“yes, thank you.” he says, voice as timid as his appearance. it was a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him as his long fingers slip through his wallet to find a debit card. “have a good night.”

your eyes return to your textbook as you go to erase an answer you had previous written, obviously wrong.

“the heads of the phospholipid bilayer are hydrophilic, not phobic.” he says. it surprised you, making you return to his gaze slowly before realising you should probably reply instead of staring at the man.

“oh- yeah, thanks. i caught that it’s just, i guess i’ve been staring at the same words for so long i can’t differentiate them.” you give a small fake laugh as he nods, giving you a long look before coughing and leaving promptly. he leaves with his bag, and his hands fiddling with each other.

you can barely focus after that. customers come and go, and although you’ve only been doing the late shift for a week, this encounter with the unknown man couldn’t leave your mind. the way he dressed, his smell, his voice and how he corrected you (which would totally annoy you usually). you hoped he would return.

and he did. three days later, this time even later than the last.

you were stuck in a dark purple sweater, the aircon in the store blasting cold air that you were too lazy to fix. and although the air flipped pages of notes and questions, you were still stuck in a trance.

the blasting aircon blew a wind of mens cologne this time, it smelt like wood. your eyes glanced up from your books and trailed the familiar man, noticing how he was reusing the plastic bag from days before.

he returned to the checkout with apples, a 3 minute cannelloni, and a bag of coffee. he was now the one trailing you, “where did Latrice go?” you look up, chuckling a bit,

“Latrice is getting paid by her daughter-in-law to babysit the twins,” you reply, surprised you were willing to tell him so much information. he could be a stalker for all you know. or just a regular, obviously that’s way more likely. “trust me, i miss her as much as you do. $14.98.”

he nodded with a small smile and sliced his card down the side of the card reader.

you searched for him now, only after two encounters you were already craving some sort of human interaction at work. usually you avoided it since the only other ‘regulars’ were old men and mean teenagers. you had switched to writing a biology report on your computer, the sound of the keyboard almost covering the sound of the door bell.

a bag of apples, a 2 minute lasagne, a bag of coffee, and a banana muffin.

“big night?”

“uh- what?”

“you got a banana muffin. i thought you were starting to become predictable.” you bagged his things as he chuckled, looking over you and your laptop. you noticed only because you were also looking at him, “biology report. wanna read it?” you joked, but he didn’t catch that part.

now he was behind the register, sat on your wheelie stool reading and editing your report while walking you through everything he was changing. you didn’t understand most, but you were just happy to stay around him. you weren’t even scared of Old Alan, the guy who only buys cucumbers and condoms. nobodies ever asked him, don’t think anyone wants to know.

“what’s your word limit?”

“3500.”

“only 3500?” he gave you a raised eyebrow, voice getting slightly higher. he coughed, “sorry, that’s nearly impossible.”

you sigh, “i know… i’m y/n by the way. thought you should know who your helping cheat.”

“i’m not helping you cheat, i’m just… editing,” he hit backspace a few times with a lowered bottom lip, “my names spencer.”

you smiled and crossed your arms as you leaned against the counter. spencer. yeah, that sounded nerdy enough.

pt. 2

[fictionalmenxyn]

•✧𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰✧•

Pairing: Drew x singer/actress!reader

(The parts that are Itallic are what you would see in the video rather than in person)

Warnings: language, slightly emotional reader (for good reason)

Face claim: Billie Eilish (what a cutie 😊)

•✧•✧•

Once again, your time has come. Your yearly interview.

This time, Drew was sat behind the camera. You sat in the directors chair. You smiled at the camera and spoke “Hi, I’m Y/n Y/l/n.. it’s currently October eighteenth, twenty-twenty-four” you smile.

Other versions of you repeat those words, only difference is the year… oh! And also your appearance, obviously.

Drew was sat on a chair opposite you and behind the camera. A big smile on his face. He loved these interviews of you.

First question ‘biggest thing that happened in your career?’ You smiled and scrunched your nose. You then lean forward in your chair and whispered the camera “I got two oscars.” You balled your fists in excitement and scrunched your face. “Two! Not one, but two… still feels like a dream”

You watch your year-younger self, “I got six Grammys! Ah!” You chuckle at your past self. You looked to the camera “two oscars and six Grammys… damn..” you and Drew laugh.

‘What’s the most important things to you right now?’ You smiled at the question. You tilt your head to look around the camera and to Drew. You answered “my love, my everything… Drew mother fucking Starkey…” he chuckled. You wave him over “c’mere, babe…” he got the green light from the director and walked over to you.

You opened your arms, he leaned down and hugged you as you sat in the chair. As he pulls away slightly, he kissed your forehead. You smiled “this is whats important to me… my Drew…” you both knew the fans were gonna make edits and comments about this. You were honestly excited to see the edits. You loved how cute your fans were when it came to you and Drew.

You and Drew watched your younger self “uh probably my boyfriend… he’s the best-” younger you looked to the camera “I love ya, Drew!” You both laughed.

Drew kissed your forehead once more, then went back behind the camera; sitting in his chair once again.

‘Craziest fan moment?’ You answered “it was at New York, my latest tour. I noticed a girl in the crowd. She looked like she had something in her hand. So when we did our usual ten minute break. I walked over to her, cause she didn’t leave her spot. She held a box, saying it was a gift for me and she couldn’t get vip tickets to meet backstage. So I opened it, and i literally broke down crying, happy tears of course. What was in the box, was a handmade painting of Drew and I. In a frame, it was our photo I said was my favourite of us. On the set of outer banks, still dressed in our characters clothes. On our characters dirt bikes, our heads against each others. She said it took her eighteen hours. It’s not a crazy moment, but definitely sentimental…”

You watched younger you, ‘dude, everyone kept throwing T-shirts with Drew’s face on stage!” You laughed. Still having them shirts. You never got rid of them. Never crossed you mind to get rid of them.

‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ You smiled and shook your head “no I don’t…” your grin grew bigger as you lifted your left hand up “I got a fiancé!!” Drew’s smile only grew bigger. God you were so cute in his mind. Always have, always will.

You look at last year’s clip “yes I do, Drew, my childhood bestie, and lover, love his soul… miss my baby, haven’t saw him in a few hours… gonna see him later though excited.” You laughed at your younger you.

‘Describe your style in three words’ you smiled and tilted your head “open to opportunity.”

Your 2023 self said “live laugh Drew” you bursted out laughing and replied “I said that?!” You laughed.

‘Favourite movie?’ You smiled “ooo probably Beetlejuice… the original, although the new one is really good.. you know I love a good Tim Burton movie…”

You answered “Batman The Dark Knight, Cillian and Heath are soooo good in that movie, so was Christian Bale… but Cillian and Heath…” you playfully roll your eyes at younger you. You remarked “god I was practically drooling over that movie” you laugh.

‘What are you working on currently?’ You smiled “well, as you recently found out, I’m working on an album… which is half done… and I’m starring in the newest Outer Banks season, once again…”

2023 you spoke “a movie and Outer Banks… oh! And a single…”

‘One thing you’d like to do with your career this year?’ You smiled “as usual, to star in a Tim Burton movie…” you wink at the camera.

Younger you answered “obviously star in a Tim Burton movie, pretty sure I said that since like the third year, right??” You chuckle.

You look to the camera, “thanks for checking in on me, Vanity Fair… once again a great yearly catch up! I love you guys!” You waved Drew to come back over. Which he did. He leaned down to get into frame. You both smile, you spoke “we love you all! See you soon!”

•✧•✧•

[lieutenantfloyd]

My Red Thread - Gambit x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: After being sent to the Void alongside your chaotic companions Deadpool and Logan, the very last thing on your mind is the rarity of a soulmate bond. That is, until yours snaps into place. (Soulmate! AU)

Warnings: Fluff, mutant! Reader (undefined powers), a bit of romantic tension, attempts at humor, Wade Wilson ruining The Moment™️

Authors Note: For some reason editing this took way longer than actually writing it did. I’m still getting a feel for the characters, so I apologize if anything is kinda ooc! :)

Read on AO3

Laying with your back against a mostly broken couch, you have a view of the full room, including a set of stairs that allow streams of sunlight to cascade in. Your eyes shift lazily between Logan—who's taking the opportunity to drink himself into oblivion— and Deadpool—who's closing out his second straight hour of snooping through drawers and cabinets.

When the three of you awoke in this new location hours ago, you almost instantly flew into a fit of arguing. First about how and why you were here, then about who would be the first to go up the stairs. After a much heated debate, the consensus became that an unknown person—agreed to be either the ghost of Johnny coming back to avenge himself or the vengeful, forgotten sister from earlier—brought you here for reasons that probably didn't end with any of you walking out of here alive.

Whoever it was most likely got the drop on you first, seeing as how you decided to try your luck at hitchhiking through the void instead of sitting around and watching your two companions tear each other, along with your only ride, to shreds. As for the situation with the stairs, a rare moment of agreement was shared when you decided to stand and fight whatever possible threat was lurking. Once that was decided you all assumed the positions you currently found yourselves in.

With each tick of the dusty clock on the wall, you were growing more and more impatient, You'd been fighting for your life, quite literally, from the moment Wade got you sent to the void. Now your adrenaline had all but crashed, leaving your body to scream in agony over being brought to the brink of death more times over the last twenty four hours than you’d ever care to count. It was at the point now that you honestly began to wish that whoever had brought you here would muster up the cajones and come finish you off for good.

As if on cue, you and Logan sat upright as you sensed movement outside. You rolled off the couch and joined Wade in the middle of the room, taking up fighting stances while Logan simply sat back in his chair and continued nursing the bottle of whiskey he found without a care in the world.

Prepping for yet another fight, you were left feeling as dumbfounded as Deadpool looked when Elektra descended into the room. Your hands stayed raised but your mind began to run with possibilities. Wade began a refreshed round of incessant rambling, not missing a beat as Blade followed Elektra into the room only seconds later.

Your eyes shoot over to Logan in an effort to ensure that someone a bit less prone to hallucinations than you and Deadpool were seeing this too. His eyes flash confirmingly to yours. You swallow hard, having a brief internal battle with the childhood version of you who apparently thinks that now is the best time to start fangirling.

Tuning out Wade's awkward banter, you try and piece together the situation unfolding in front of you together. You were well aware of how people got sent to the void, but you realized then that you never thought any deeper about who exactly you could run into during your stay.

With fatigue setting deeper into your bones, you lean your hip onto the dusty wood table beside you. You fall halfway out of your defensive stance and let Wade command the room as usual, tuning back into the conversation just in time to hear him make an oddly pointed quip about some man named Ben Affleck.

Picking up on more movement from above, your attention shifts across the room. Your eyes lock on the stairs as if glued there. You to watch on silently as a shimmery purple card floats into the room and a man follows closely behind. You barely have enough time to register the flashes of purple dancing away from his hands before a force you have never felt before—and have absolutely no interest in feeling again—slams so solidly into your chest that it sends you flying over the table you were leaning against.

"Fuck!" "Merde!"

You yell out in unison. Instinct has you pulling yourself up off the floor as soon as you hit it, albeit slowly, as you try to call the air back into your lungs. Using the table for support, you manage to raise up on shaking feet. The once busy room has now fallen deadly silent. Quiet in a way you hadn't experienced since joining up with Deadpool several months ago. You suck in a few intentional breaths before letting your head rise up from its hanging position.

"What the hell was tha-" you start, only to fall silent as you take notice of everyone's eyes flashing between you and a man who looks just as confused and winded as you do.

Time seems to slow as your eyes lock with his. A smaller blow hits you somewhere deep beneath your ribs, though this time you only stumble.

"Ho-ly shit!" Wade gasps, bringing his gloved hands up to his face and flicking his head back and forth dramatically between the both of you, no doubt starting to pick up on what's happening.

A second thrumming blooms in your chest then. It's equal parts similar and different from your own. Your mind nearly starts to panic, but it's silenced by something buried in your chemical makeup coming alive.

Wade drops his hands from his face, only to end up pointing at you like an old Spiderman meme.

"You two are-"

"Soulmates," you breathe out.

Absentmindedly, your hand rises to your chest. The feel of your soulmates' heart beating in time with yours is oddly comforting, in a way not unlike finally coming home after a long, difficult mission.

Soulmates were a rare but well documented phenomenon back in your reality. Most people would go their entire lives without meeting someone who was lucky enough to bond, let alone experience it themselves. You silently cursed all of those articles and accounts you read as a hopeful tween for failing to mention just how sudden and violently the bond snapped into place.

"Say something! Suck each other's faces off! Maybe even-"

"That's enough," Logan hisses, slapping a large hand down onto Deadpool's shoulder.

You laugh awkwardly at the absurdity of this entire situation. Unsure of what to say or how to go about any of this. Bonded or not, you and the upsettingly handsome man in front of you were still strangers.

"I've been lookin' for you a long time, mon amour." He drawls. And fuck if his sultry cajun drawl isn't something you'd be happy to hear for the rest of your lifetime.

'Well, It's good to finally meet you, um..." you stammer out, only to remember that you hadn't even learned his name yet.

"Remy!" Elektra whispers to you excitedly.

You repeat his name under your breath, somehow feeling like you miss it as the syllables roll off of your tongue.

"It's lovely to finally meet you, Remy," you try again.

Logan takes the opportunity to introduce you like Elektra did for Remy. He sends you a soft smile as he learns your name, though it shines so bright and warm that you can't decide if you want to fall back against the table or leap into his arms.

You step towards him, happy to feel both of your heartbeats pumping in your chest as you both move to close the distance between you. When you're only a mere inches away from each other, his hand rises into view, silently asking permission to caress your cheek. You wait with bated breath to feel his touch, only for it to fall short when a certain red and black clad anti-hero steps between you—acting as if your entire world wasn't just flipped on its axis.

"Sorry to interrupt this precious little love session you two have going on, but I feel that I must remind you of the very pressing matters still at hand," Wade says with a look that is anything but sorry.

You look to Remy, whose face says only that he's ready to explode Deadpool with his mind and reach around Wade to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. You smile up at Remy, and watch as an unmistakable look of complete adoration flashes across his eyes.

You use your powers to send the mercenary flying backward through the air, leaving him screaming as you finally close the gap between you and Remy.

He brings you into his arms without hesitation. A stray tear slips from your eye as you realize just how right his touch feels against your skin. His nimble fingers wipe away the tear that fell onto your cheek, already coming into tune with the thousands of different emotions flowing through you.

"Don't cry chéri, Gambit's gotcha."

His words bring a fresh new crop of tears to your eyes. You savor the contact for several long moments before reluctantly pulling away. You waste no time in reaching over to interlock your hands, pulling him back a few steps.

A chorus of stifled laughter sounds throughout the room as you spot Wade stumbling back onto his feet. You squeeze Remy's hand when you hear him mutter "couyon," disapprovingly, something that earns another round of poorly dampened laughter from the group.

"Wade,” You call over to him, "Are you done being an asshole for the time being?"

"Never!”

"Can you idiots focus for five seconds?" Logan asks from the corner while taking a swig of whiskey. The rebuttal you’d prepared for Wade does in your throat, but you still give him a disapproving eye roll. Deadpool, unable to have someone speak up before him, pushes his way past Logan.

"Yeah, like I know the writer needs to hit their word count and all, but we've still got a baldheaded bitch to kill."

Getting out of the void has always been your top priority, but with your newfound bond, it felt all the more pressing.

Stepping aside to let Wade through, he begins to command the room as always. Ideas intertwine with his usual self deprecating jokes. You and Remy stand next to each other on the sidelines, as tensions begin to lower.

As the night drug on, the conversation began to buzz with urgent anticipation. Everyone takes a shot at pitching an idea or strategy that plays to some of their strengths. Logan had retreated outside while Blade, Electra, and Wade stood and paced around the room, focused on the task at hand.

With guards lowered and tensions gone, you and Remy retreated to a nearby couch. You both gave out the occasional opinion or bit of intel, but your minds never strayed far from each other.

The conversation slows, and you felt Gambit's hand brush against yours. You reach out and intertwine your fingers with his before he can back away. His fingers tighten against yours gently before letting up. You mirror his squeeze instantly, a thousand words passing in the silence hanging between you. You lift your eyes and meet his gaze, giving him a soft, barely perceptible nod. You can the low kinetic current coursing through his touch. It serves as yet another reminder of how strong your bond already feels.

Your head drops onto his shoulder, earning a low hum. Just above a whisper, and with a smile playing on your lips, you both promise that no matter what lies ahead, you are ready to face it—simply because you now have each other.

[chubsonthemoon]

It is done! This is The Death of Translation, originally written in English by @landwriter, translated into Mandarin by @thirrith. Binding is dos-à-dos, with English version on one side and Mandarin on the other. Bookcloth was handwoven by me, on my rigid heddle loom :3

More under the cut!

Typeset: Fanbinders are Liars

Full stop, this typeset would not have been possible without Eth and all their patience, enthusiasm, and willingness to do even more translating! I reached out to them *checks watch* nearly a year ago in July 2023 (lololol), asking if I could use their translation of TDOT in a surprise bind I wanted to send along with Gloam's author copy of Flower King. They were kind enough to say yes, and even kinder to answer my questions when I reached out six months later in January, when I was finally able to start work on the typeset.

We talked about the many delicious things that are bound to come up when discussing translating not just from English to Mandarin, but also from digital space to meatspace. Some topics I had anticipated, like font questions, translating the colophon, etc. But even with the topics I thought I'd prepared for, there were still things that came up that both surprised and delighted: for example, while AO3's website allows for italics in Mandarin--

--my publishing program doesn't (or at least, it doesn't without needing to manually tilt every character by about 10 degrees). So as a workaround, Eth suggested changing these cases of italics to the font 华文楷体:

Through no one's fault but my own, this ended up being only slightly less work than manually tilting every instance of italics--I wanted to be sure that I got all of them, so I ended up doing a lot of double-checking manually anyway, instead of relying solely on the Search function. There was a lot of cross-referencing with the Word document that Eth was kind enough to provide, as well as squinting and general swearing. I also did the same for the uses of Latin script, manually styling each instance as Garamond to keep it consistent with the English edition:

The only other time I've had to do font surgery this intensive is probably for my typeset for Tell Me About the Big Bang, which I had to port over from a PDF. Folks, hell on earth. Do not recommend XD I remember squinting at my monitor as I had to visually confirm every instance of italics, thinking I will never do this again. Welp, four years later, here were are: fanbinders are liars, LMAO. At the very least, using Eth's Word document at least allowed me to search by styles, so it was a little easier on my eyes. 🙏

Is there a script that I might've been able to use if I was more code-savvy? Probably. But I figured going at it sledgehammer style would be the least hair-pulling way to get the job done, weirdly enough. Still, despite my best efforts, there are a few instances of PMingLiU to Garamond and PMingLiU to 华文楷体 that I know I missed, and I know I missed them because I caught them after I'd printed/cut/folded/sewn/glued (cue more swearing), so Gloam and Eth, my apologies >.< please consider them artifacts of a uniquely handmade object ajslkdjfs

In addition to the fonts, there were also some other fun things Eth and I discussed, like how to translate the notes I usually provide on the colophons! In addition to information on fonts, I also usually include some variation of:

This private, limited edition published by chubsthehamster (Moonham Press, imprint of Renegade Publishing) in 2024. This is chubsthehamster's personal copy. Out of three existing copies, this is the first.

The thing that came up with this, which still tickles my brain to this day, was how Eth chose how to translate "Moonham Press, imprint of Renegade Publishing." To get a better sense of what word to use for "imprint," they asked what the relationship was between Moonham Press and Renegade Publishing, which got me thinking about the relationship between my lil imprint and the wonderful @renegadeguild:

What's all very funny about all of this is that we are now, in fact, going by the name "Renegade Bookbinding Guild," per our most recently updated Code of Conduct. While this renders the wording I asked for out of date (and thus, the wording that made it into the book out of date :'D), I think it's also a testament to how cool the work @renegadeguild is doing--like any artform, fanbinding is alive, with its own evolving language, communities, and ideas about the craft. And I love it, I love it so much. (Was this also a plug for our new-ish website? Perhaps).

There's more I could say here, but this post is already going to be long enough, so I'll move on for now! If you get anything from this section, it's that @thirrith is amazing and very patient and kind, and I'm so grateful that we got to talk shop together. Thank you so much for all your invaluable help with this, Eth! I hope the typeset, though undoubtedly flawed, does your hard work justice!

Binding: Or, SO Much Math. Like, So Much, Guys. (It was worth it, though!)

Whoo, boy! So math was never my strong suit in school, but when I set out to do this bind last year, that wasn't an issue. At first. The dos-à-dos binding, if anything, just requires a little bit of finagling on the usual case-bound format--a bit more math if you want to do an all-cloth cover, like I planned on doing, but nothing I couldn't work out with some trial and error. (My prototype below!)

Then came February, when I took a weaving class with my friend, and then everything kinda exploded.

My original idea was to use some green Duo bookcloth I had on hand (this color, actually)--for those of you not initiated into the Duo cult, Duo is a Rayon bookcloth with a very devoted fan following in Renegade. It's very pretty; the Rayon weave is one color, and the paper backing is usually complementary color, so it has this cool two-toned effect. Duo is in high demand in Renegade circles because sadly, the company that manufactures it went out of business last year. (Although I've heard rumors recently that there's another company making something similar, but the cloth has a really high purchase requirement and is, like, for businesses only I think).

Anyway, I also wanted to have a gold line around the whole book as a kind of bellyband/obi to further connect the two versions of the story (another reason why I chose the dos-à-dos format to begin with heh), as you can see from my scribbled notes here--

But alas! I knew going in that adhering things to Duo is often Problematic, thanks to one very painful experience trying to get some iron-on foil on another bind (the textured surface of Duo just makes it kinda hard to stick or paint stuff on it). So if I wanted a clean, continuous line, the remaining options were to either paint it on a strip of paper that I'd somehow...adhere to the cloth? Or maybe cut different slices of bookcloth and glue them on. I wasn't satisfied with either of those options, though.

Then--the weaving class. I made a scarf, and I love it and I loved making it. But the whole time, I'll not lie, my thoughts were elsewhere.

In short, my decision to weave my own bookcloth kinda came from a few different factors:

The desire to attempt to recreate Duo, that elusive beauty, the one that got away, etc. (I have several yards in my stash, but still). Others have also attempted to recreate it, and I thought I'd throw my hat in the ring.

My current spiral into the deep hole that is fiber arts (it started with crochet, then knitting, then sewing, then weaving, then spinning, and now I'm eyeing quilting! Please help me).

The gold line. It kept bugging me. And when I found weaving, I just thought there was something very neat about the process of actually making the cloth for a dos-à-dos binding from scratch, and especially for this binding. I wanted to bind a story about translation (or rather, the death of it, and yet still the necessity of it--how we must try to communicate, despite of, or perhaps precisely because of, everything that gets lost in the spaces between people, and the tragedy of that loss, and the beauty of what makes it through, and the love always present in the effort regardless), and also, the translation of that story. Weaving is a very meditative process, and with every pass of the shuttle, back and forth, building slowly but surely the fabric that would hold the story that Gloam had written and that Eth had translated, I thought a lot about translation, and the gaps between people, and how we choose our words not just when translating, but when we speak at all. From a design perspective, I used the same colors I would've used had I chosen the Duo bookcloth--green and gold--so the design wasn't too altered in terms of color scheme. But I think the choice to weave the bookcloth--the thing that bound it all together--made the project take on a completely new meaning for me, both in process and in scope, one that hadn't been there when I started. I saw the warp, perhaps, as the original story, laying the groundwork for the weft, the translation; or maybe it was the other way around, with the translation providing the scaffolding for its own, new meaning, choices that Eth had to make with this word or phrase or another building something new, something translated, and the original a live, moving thing that wove over and under each word turned phrase turned story; or maybe it was both. Maybe it didn't matter which was which, in the end. And as I wove, the thing that connected them, that gold line that had started all of this, slowly formed.

All that to say: Good God, was there a lot of math. So much math. That prototype pictured above was actually made specifically so I could calculate exactly how much I needed to weave, lol, because while I certainly had enough thread, I didn't want to have to warp more than once. I'd learned the basics in my class, but the training wheels came off here. I wanted to make my own custom fabric, which meant calculating things like ends per inch, picks per inch, loom waste, shrinkage after washing, the width of that damn gold line, how much I'd need for the hinge, the turn-ins, the boards--the whole nine yards (I didn't actually weave nine yards tho heh). It was all absolutely worth it in the end--so challenging and so, so rewarding!

(And my final reason for weaving the bookcloth? Not gonna lie, It was because I just wanted to see if I could do it LOL. I love trying at least one new thing with each of my binds, and this was it for this project. While I've been bookbinding for a few years now, I'm still very much a beginner weaver, and I'm so excited to continue to learn and experiment! Also, here's a video of me unwinding the cloth from the loom, heh. I used 10/2 Perle cotton in gold and green colors :3)

Also, turns out, you can back handmade cloth the same way you can any other cloth! I backed it using my usual heat-n-bond method, and with some Unryu Tissue in the color Forest. Since the cloth itself is a bit transparent, there are a bunch of really fun fibers you can see when it's held up to the light, but which aren't visible when the cloth is glued down to the boards. Still, knowing they're there still makes me happy :D

Finally, capping all this off, is one final, small detail I really liked: ginkgo leaf endpapers :3 this one's for me and Eth and Gloam specifically <3

Aaaand that's all from me for today, folks! Thus ends (several months late XD) my last Binderary project for the year. This was probably my most ambitious bind to date, and gosh it was so, so much fun.

And, of course, thank you so much to Gloam for sharing your story, and Eth for translating it. I can't wait for y'all to receive your copies soon!

All my love! <3

[captainreecejames]

fired by a thirst trap || my ex is a footballer LH44 Edition

summary you date footballer kylian mbappe, that is until a lewis hamilton thirst trap hits the timeline

pairing ex!kylian mbappe x reader, lewis hamilton x reader

faceclaim bruna marquezine

warnings mbappe slander

notes first, please pretend that mbappe to real madrid was announced in april of this year, second please pretend that the golden doodle on the yacht is actually roscoe. thank you for the suspension of disbelief (or however the phrase goes).

part 2

twitter ----------

ynusername posted--------

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and others

ynusername before, during, and after the miami gp

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yourmanager that's right she's hot and she knows it ↳ ynusername 😘😘

mercedesamgf1 loved having you yn, come again soon ↳ ynusername thank you so much for having me!!

yourstylist from Miami to the met gala! ↳ ynusername light work 💪🏼

username12 she's so pretty it makes me want to die og

username13 that post break up glowup really is hitting

username1 how childish to break up with someone over what they wore to a date, yn your a bitch ↳ ynusername *you're 😉 ↳ username2 LOL SUCKS TO SUCK username1

lewishamilton you're gonna kill it on the carpet later ↳ ynusername you + me = slaying the met gala carpet ↳ lewishamilton you 🤝me = killing it on the dancefloor

username14 yn what have you done with my weird ass uncle?? you're making him cool

username15 I'm crying yn is really making lewis enter his active era again ↳ username16 if a woman as beautiful as yn was talking to me you bet your ass I'm refreshing my phone to see if she said something ↳ username15 you 🤝 lewis simping after yn

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ynusername posted ----------

liked by lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco and others

ynusername but it's the monaco grand prix

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lewishamilton is it? Who's playing? ↳ ynusername no one's playing. its the grand prix, I never miss the Monaco grand prix ↳ lewishamilton 😂😉

roscoelovescoco we loves yous ❤️❤️ ↳ ynusername Roscoe 🫶🏼😭 ↳ username26 not Roscoe using a red heart ↳ username6 next thing we know roscoe's account is locked by merc 😭

username27 forget the red heart yn's got lewis participating in memes. merc admin is screaming crying throwing up rn ↳ username28 mercedes social media team has been begging lewis to do content, meanwhile he's over here giggling kicking his feet with yn

username29 fuck all y'all, who got yn the roses ↳ username30 idk probably the man who's yacht she's on ↳ ynusername 🤐🤐

username35 when her and lewis treat the paddock as their own personal fashion show, you won't catch me complaining ↳ username36 I know the French man is crying right now, she upgraded so fucking hard ↳ username37 she's just a gold digging whore, glad he left her ↳ username36 idk, maybe if he made an effort SHE wouldn't have left him

charles_leclerc was lovely meeting you yn! ↳ ynusername HEY get off your phone and go enjoy your win!!! 😠 ↳ charles_leclerc okay mom ↳ username31 someone update the f1 family tree, yn is now Charles mom via her relationship with lewis ↳ ynusername I'm too young to be a mom, let alone a grandma. 😂😂

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post note: also, in my head this was going all the way past the canadian grand prix and going to feature some of the mercedes social media admin debacles, but it got too long and i really don't want to pile on to them when I think they got fired.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

extra: she’s really empathetic, she’d make a great wife.

➴ chapter warnings: rumors, mentions of cheating.

➴ word count: 2.9k

💌 from me to you: and today i reached 600 followers. may or may not have cried. thank you so much. i hope you enjoy this one, and thank you anon for giving me this idea, i hope i met your expectations!

𖧷

𖧷

JACK BLINKED slowly, as if he wasn’t really sure if what he was seeing was actually real.

He sat up straight, resting his naked back against the wooden headboard, staring at the girl in front of him.

Sophia was resting against the glass door, wearing nothing but one of Jack’s old t-shirts that he doesn’t even recall putting inside his luggage, which can only mean she did it herself, something the singer’s often doing, wearing his clothes around, like she’s seeking for some kind of closeness that only he can provide.

She’s breathtaking, Jack remembers thinking. Even with no makeup on, even with puffy, tired eyes, and even with her hair slightly tangled from sleep, she’s breathtaking.

She’s not even doing anything important; she’s not singing, she’s not dancing, she’s not smiling for the thousands of cameras which are frequently shoved up her face. She’s simply existing, simply breathing, and that is enough to make Jack Hughes believe she’s the one for him.

He knows he is lucky. He knows she’s too good for him, and he knows that, one day, she’ll probably realize it, if she hasn’t already.

But, he also knows that as long as she lives, and maybe some time after that, he won’t ever love someone like he loves her. His heart won’t ever beat this fast for someone else, even if he wanted to.

Her laugh is enough to get him through his hardest days, her voice enough to bring him out of his dark thoughts. When he watches her on stage, dancing, singing, smiling and doing what she loves most, he’s certain that she’s enough to make him the happiest man alive.

So, that’s why they are where they are today. Because he can’t lose her. Not again, not ever.

He remembers feeling his heart dropping inside his chest when he read the article. "NHL Star Caught in Cheating Scandal: Sophia Montenegro and Jack Hughes Relationship in Turmoil".

Gladly, he had been one of the first to read the excruciating story. After that one incident where Sophia thought he was fucking his ex, Ava he thinks, his Google Alerts notifications for himself and Sophia are always on, and he doesn’t miss a single thing anymore.

That’s why he almost crushes his phone inside his hands when he reads the article, over and over again, memorizing the nasty, evil words plastered for everyone to see.

There’s a picture, too. A blurry, probably edited one, showing his face beside a random girl’s he doesn’t even know. His name is beside the word “cheater”, “unfaithful” and he’s being compared with that one asshole named Harris Dickinson.

He wants to kill someone.

It’s late at night, and he is away. Sophia is back in Newark at their shared apartment, and he knows she’s probably asleep by now. He won’t get home until later that night, and he’s seriously considering murdering whoever thought that coming up with this lie, now out of all times, would be a great idea.

She’s not answering her phone, as expected, and Jack Hughes wants to scream. He just had a shitty game, they lost 4-1, even after he shot the puck at the net twenty-three times alone— not even one earned him the glorious “goal honk”.

He spends the entire ride silent, because he knows his teammates have already seen the article. He can feel their eyes on him, and he can sense their pity too. Even Luke, who always chooses to stay quiet and watch from afar, is looking at him with worried, hooded eyes.

“I didn’t do it.” Jack mumbles, looking through the window and watching the dark sky above them.

“I know,” Luke hums, sounding upset. “That’s why I am worried.”

“They can’t fucking leave us alone,” Jack hisses, his frustrated tone echoing through the silent bus. “Do they have any idea what this does to Soph? Do they have any idea how fucking messed up this is?”

“She’s a tough girl,” Luke tries. “She’ll get over this.”

“What if,” Jack stops himself. No. Sophia will hear him out, she won’t shut him out like she did last time. This isn’t the first dating scandal they have to deal with, and it certainly will not be the last. “Fuck.”

“I know nothing I say will help but,” Luke sighs, then turns his head around until he’s facing his brother. “I’m here, we’re here. I love you.”

Jack blinks, nodding once. “I know. It helps.”

He arrives at their home at three forty-nine that night. He opens the door and closes it in record time, and he doesn’t even think twice before running to their bedroom, desperate to see if Sophia had run away and desperate to see if he’d find their bed empty.

He doesn’t, though. Sophia’s there, just not like he expected her to be, asleep. No. She’s sitting on top of the covers, resting her back against the headboard, eyes glued to the TV in front of her, some random show Jack didn’t even bother acknowledging playing in the back, muted.

“Baby.”

Her eyes are tired when she looks at him, and he hates it. Hates it because he knows she isn’t tired because she spent the night doing what she loves— she’s tired because she’s thinking nonstop, and she’s not well.

“Jack.”

“You’re not asleep.” He stated, standing in front of her, looking for something he wasn’t really sure of in her face. He didn’t find it.

She smiles, tiredly, tilting her head to the side. “Had this bad feeling on my chest, like something I didn’t even know what was about to blow up in my face.”

“I didn’t do it,” he blurts out. He’s panting and he knows he probably looks awful, but he doesn’t care. “Soph, listen to me. I didn’t d—”

“I know,” she softened her tone, patting the seat beside her, on Jack’s side of the bed. He immediately complies, sitting beside the woman he’d buy the moon for if she asked to. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know your heart, Jack.”

“Soph…”

“I know you,” she gulps, looking at something on his face, as she raises her hand and rests it against his chest. “I know you’re not him.”

“I fucking love you, Soph,” he says, and he can’t believe he’s on the verge of tears. Jack Hughes, the sassy, though player, is on the verge of crying because he can’t stomach the thought of losing his girlfriend. “I’d give you my life if you asked me to. You know that.”

“I don’t want you to,” she smiles, softly, her eyes filled with tears too. “Where’s the fun in that? I want you by my side, every day. I want people to write your name on my biography when I die, and I want people to know that you’re it for me.”

“I’m going to kill whoever wrote that,” he promises. “I know I can find them, and I know I can make them pay for what they did, I just know that,” he’s seeing red, and he’s ready to punch someone in the face when Sophia kisses him, sweet, honeyed lips touching each other.

“Let’s make the most out of this,” she whispers. “This time, let’s just see the glass half full.”

Making the most out of that awful situation turned out to be spending a week at Calilo, a private, five star hotel in Ios, a Greek island.

The room they chose had a private pool, and a private entrance to the beach, which they were in love with. Sophia cried when they opened the hotel’s room door because of course she did, and Jack took a picture of her there to send to the family group chat, before turning his wifi off, something he promised he’d do once they arrived at their destination.

For seven days, one hundred and sixty-eight hours, ten thousand and eight minutes, six hundred four thousand, eight hundred seconds, they weren’t going to be the famous singer and Hockey player, Sophia Montenegro and Jack Hughes.

No. They’d be Sophia and Jack, a normal couple living a normal life.

“We could be royalty, king and queen of nowhere,” Sophia sings, voice smooth and quiet, yet enough to make Jack want to jump out of bed and kiss her senseless. “Lose it all, everything. As long as we got you and I, you and me, they can tear this whole house down. All we have is love.”

“Did I die and go to Heaven?” Jack mumbles, and smiles as Sophia turns around and faces him. He barely tries to hide the way he scans her body with hungry eyes, lingering over the outline of her boobs for longer than he probably should.

“Some people do say I’m an angel,” she blinks innocently, and walks towards the bed, sitting on Jack’s lap, gracefully putting her legs on each side of Jack’s body. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a girl who just got knocked up.” He smirks, and Sophia laughs, throwing her head back as Jack holds her in place with his hands on her waist, carefully arranging her on top of him.

“We’ll have to work on this newly developed kink of yours…” she winks.

“Like it isn’t your fault,” he rolls his eyes, playfully, staring at the outline of her panties sitting right on top of his own boxers. “Making a song about wanting to get knocked up. Singing said song in front of thousands of people. Asking me to fuck you in unthinkable positions just so you could do them on stage.”

“I mean…” she smirks. “I gotta keep my fans interested, right? And what are boyfriends for if not for helping their girlfriends out?”

“You’re unreal, Sophia Montenegro,” Jack says, leaning forward and kissing the singer fervently. She tastes sweet, she tastes like his favorite person in the world.

But maybe that’s just because that’s what she is.

𖧷

SOPHIA HAD already forgotten how good it was to live a normal life.

She loves her fans, she really does. She also loves to sing, and she loves to be this huge pop star people say she is, but also loves to be human. She loves to walk around without thousands of people taking pictures of her and analyzing everything she does. She loves to eat a silent dinner by herself or with her friends and family and not have several cameras in her face.

When Jack suggested, after that terrible article, that they should travel somewhere quiet and safe, she thought he was just kidding. It was June, he was technically off his NHL player duties, and she did have some time before she had to headline festivals and make appearances in TV shows so it made sense for them to take some time for themselves, but they had never done that before— why, she doesn’t know, but now she realizes how dumb they had both been.

Ios was a small island, and the few people who were there didn’t know who they were. They walked around with their hands together without anyone batting an eye at them, and even when they asked for people to take pictures of them together, no one hit them with the usual “oh my God, are you that one singer and that one player?”

People treated them normally, and she couldn’t be happier. The past few weeks had been like hell, living on the edge and worrying that something would break them apart, but now?

Now, they were walking together after eating Chicken Gyros and Bubble Waffles with chocolate ice cream (“That’s too sweet, baby, it’s disgusting.”, “You’re disgusting, Rowdy.”), making their way to the private beach in front of their bedroom, which Sophia promptly said it belonged to them from now on.

She spent the entire walk singing, because Jack had asked her to. The lyrics of I Have A Dream slipped out of her mouth like syrup, each sentence sweeter than the previous one. Jack, who has been holding her hand and watching her the entire time, smiled and felt his hands getting sweaty.

“I have a dream, a song to sing. To help me cope with anything, if you see the wonder of a fairy tale, you can take the future even if you fail. I believe in angels.”

She loved this song, it had been one of the many who inspired her to be a singer. And to get to sing it in Greece, while holding hands with the person she’s sure to be the love of her life?

She won.

Her white sundress contrasted perfectly with the sunset in the background, and when she and Jack decided that they wanted to sit by the sea, the sun was already saying its last words.

“It’s beautiful.” She sighs, content.

“It is, yeah,” Jack answers, but when she turns around, he’s not looking at the view, he’s looking at her.

She laughs, smacking his chest. “Did you just call me ‘it’?”

“I don’t know, man, I heard the word beautiful and thought we were talking about you.” He cheesily answers, and she rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re actually so annoying,” Sophia chuckles, moving the sand around with her feet. “I don’t know how I’ve been handling your ass for almost five years.”

Jack stays silent for a while, something that isn’t like him at all, but Sophia doesn’t ask anything. He’s been like that since that one article, and even though she can tell it still bothers him, she promised him she wouldn’t ask any more questions.

It was upsetting, to say the least, to know that people were constantly praying for their downfall. At least once every two months they would come up with a new genius idea of how they weren’t together anymore, and how they hated each other, and how Jack was a freaking cheater and how Sophia was a homewrecker.

She understands that they may not look like the perfect match— who would’ve thought? The bratty, Mr. I-hate-media-attention dating the singer whose name is practically in every headline and whose face is in almost every magazine cover, not to mention her songs always doing numbers in the charts.

But they are happy.

So, so happy.

“I don’t think I want to leave,” Sophia whispers, listening to the sounds of the waves in front of them. Her head is resting on Jack’s shoulder, and he has his left hand wrapped around her thigh. “Like, ever.”

Jack hums. “Not even to make concerts?”

“Well. Maybe,” she sounds childish and Jack smiles. “I wish I could have all of that with all of this. You know what I mean? This peace, their love. Is it weird?”

“Not really, baby. A bit confusing, though.” He kisses her temple, and she chuckles.

“I’ve been in the spotlight for half of my life. Ever since I’ve decided that I wanted to be famous, I’ve been watched like some kind of wild animal,” she whispers, voice filled with emotion. “I love what I do. But… I also love who I am when I’m not performing. When I’m not Sophia Montenegro. I like it when I’m just… yours, for example.”

“Soph—”

“I’m sorry if it sounds confusing…” she pouts, and Jack smirks.

“Do you like being mine?” He asks, and she rolls her eyes at him, annoyed by the obvious question.

“You already know the answer to that,” she says. “Of course I do.”

“Would you like to be mine for the rest of our lives?” He lowers his voice, and Sophia furrows her eyebrows, lifting her head up and staring at the man sitting beside her.

“I mean I would but…” she watches his face. He looks beautiful, she thinks. His eyes match the sea. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I want to know if you’d say yes.” He simply says. Sophia notices he’s shaking, though.

“If I’d say yes to what?” She answers, but she can feel her heart racing inside her chest already.

“To be my wife,” he finally says, pulling a black, velvet box out of his jeans pocket, and opening at the same time her first tears start to roll down her cheeks. “I also love who you are when you’re not performing, but I love it even more when you’re just mine. So, please, Soph, tell me—”

“Jack—” she gasps, putting her hand in front of her mouth.

“Will you marry me? Will you make me the happiest man alive and let me make you my wife?” He asks, blue eyes full of expectations and hope.

Sophia laughs wetly before throwing herself in front of her boyfriend— fiancé—, kissing him messily, just because she can. And because she wants him to feel the turmoil going on inside her, and what he did to her.

How he found her, a garden with no flowers— and then he bought the seeds, planted and watered them, and how he’s now watching them grow and bloom. How he delicately took care of each one of them, and how he’d kiss them gently before going away.

“This could go very wrong,” she says, voice trembling as Jack puts the ring, a very fancy one she notices, on her finger. “You could get tired of me. And you could realize I’m not that cool—”

“Soph, forget it,” Jack laughs. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon. So either you start getting used to being called Sophia Montenegro Hughes now or you’ll have a very hard time.”

“I fucking love you.” She sobs, rolling her wet eyes at him.

“Always so romantic, my postar,” he kisses her cheeks, wiping her tears with his lips. “I happen to fucking love you too.”

𖧷

sophiamontenegro

Ios, Greece

liked by morgan.grace, tyla, elblue6 and 3,902,012 others

sophiamontenegro that feeling when you’re sooo empathetic he had no other option but to make you his wife 💌 that’s that me engaged i guess

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user1 SOPHIA I FUCKING LOVE YOU

user2 HARD LAUNCHING YOUR ENGAGEMENT WHEN PEOPLE SPEND THE ENTIRE MONTH TALKING ABOUT YOUR “BREAK UP” WHAT A QUEEN

trevorzegras That feeling when you have knee surgery tomorrow :/

sophiamontenegro trevorzegras 👍🏻

morgan.grace YOU BETTER CALL ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW SOPHIA WHAT THE HELL

sophiamontenegro morgan.grace on it baby 🫡

user3 THE CAPTION

user4 ngl i thought they wouldn’t last a week but look at them 4 years later getting married

user5 soph you better live stream your wedding pls

jackhughes 😈

user6 we survived another “jack and sophia broke up” moment let’s GOOOOO

user7 album when

𖧷

jackhughes

liked by lhughes_06, njdevils, curtislazar95 and 293,928 others

jackhughes

View all 2,892 comments

lhughes_06 👍🏻

user0 lhughes_06 average hughes brothers reaction

user1 It’s okay Jack we know how overwhelming choosing a caption talking about your engagement with the world’s most famous pop singer can be…

user2 THE SCREENSHOT LMFAO HE DID SOPH DIRTY

sophiamontenegro delete that or i’m asking for a divorce

jackhughes sophiamontenegro we’re not even married yet ?

nicohischier Congrats Jack and Soph ❤️

_quinnhughes congrats!! love ya

elblue6 🥹

subbanator HELL YEAAAAH

trevorzegras Can’t wait until the priest says speak now or forever hold your peace and I get up 😌

jackhughes trevorzegras you’re not even invited

trevorzegras jackhughes 🙁

user3 didn’t know yall were locked in like that

user4 my sister just started screaming and crying 😂

user5 Mama and Papa 💜

user6 THE CONTACT NAME NOOOO

[itstheghostofmypast]

Big Spoon

Non-Idol Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: Who knew he'd wake up bleary-eyed to find her a mess, one that was out of her control and his - or so he thought.

Genre: Fluffish

Warnings: None (just mentions of sad puppies)

Word Count: 1.3 k

Est.Read Time: 10 min

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Banner: @cafekitsune

"What are you doing?" He sat up, squinting at his lover who was sitting with her headphones on, blasting God knows what at 2 am. Good lord, no wonder the bed seemed so lonely and-

"Why are you awake?" She snapped at him, causing him to flinch, his little pout and amusing bed hair had her mentally scolding herself for the outburst, he was sitting there half asleep, half awake, though completely ready to get to the bottom of this mystery. She took a deep breath before biting her lip and mumbling, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to sound mean, client called and Hongjoong needed more photos so I uh...got up to do it now so I won't have to do it later- just because that lady's rich. " Turning the chair to face him she winced slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice it, though how would it be Choi San if he didn't?

"What's wrong?" He asked pushing the covers off as he sat at the edge of the bed, feet planted on the cold floor. The moment of clarity allowed him to notice the small hot water bottle on her lap, and the cup of green tea in front of her beside a giant flask and a tissue box- "Were you crying?" He cooed, getting up to go closer only for her to whine and roll her chair back, keeping her distance.

"Hey, come on." He pouted before jumping at her causing her to gasp, only to realise he had held onto the armrests of her chair, locking her in place, "What happened?"

"I-it...nothing." She mumbled, averting her gaze, in no real mood for anything at the moment, she just wanted to finish editing these photos and- "Does it hurt here?" He asked, gently placing his palm against her belly, causing her to whine and try to push it away, only for him to shake his head  and remove his hand, instead using it to cup her cheek, "Let me guess, you got the call, they asked you for something that makes no sense, and shark week hit mid brooding session?"

Her eyes widened by the end of his little monologue, as she nodded, staring at him in awe like a little girl who had just met a fairy, well, he was a fairy, a rather feline-looking fairy she could call her own. Elegant, yet endearing, soft and warm yet as solid as a rock, smart yet, just a little dumb- either way, he was her pretty, cute, little fairy- though if he heard this analogy he'd probably be throwing a fit for days, claiming he was anything BUT A FAIRY- he was, as he'd like to call himself and his bros (minus Wooyoung because frankly she had realised he was the only sensible one in the lot)  A KING!

"How did you know?" Her lips quirked upwards when he leaned closer to place a soft kiss atop her head, a gesture that would oddly make her all putty in his hands.

"Because I'm the world's best boyfriend." His voice boomed across the quiet room causing her to cover her ears due to heightened sensitivity, before frowning up at him

"The world's best boyfriend missed one thing though."

His shoulders deflated at the statement, and he flopped backwards on the bed dramatically, his back landing with a loud huff, "And what is that?"

"I was crying cause- " her breath hitched as the memories resurfaced,  "Some dogs go through depression and this puppy did too- I was watching the video and it was so sad...Sannie" she whined, calling him out for God knows but the flashing images of the puppy and the stupid client's appeal just bothered her even more, the cherry on top was the excruciating pain that was a constant reminder of how the world is too cruel to women.

Not a moment later she was gently pulled out of her chair, engulfed in a warm embrace as his familiar scent enveloped her senses, work left behind, as she felt the soft, warm pillow- nope that was his arm, "My head's heavy," with a small mumble she tried to move, but he clicked his tongue and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head, "And my heart is heavy....my poor baby is in so much physical and emotional pain and I can't do anything about it-"

"We're never getting a puppy."

"I- um...okay?" He mused, giving her a gentle squeeze, of course, that one video of the sad puppies would make her come up with this verdict, possibly fuelled by her hormones. Making her laugh right now probably wasn't the easiest task, which is why he resorted to asking her the real question, though gentle toned and carefully curated, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on her back as he approached the topic, "I thought you sent the client all they asked for, did they want something out of the contract?"

With a loud huff she began, only to pause for a moment when another cramp hit, her fingers gripping his shirt as she took a deep breath before speaking (venting), "Apparently some of the guests, who refused to take solos then, now want their solo pics because the others who did get their solos taken got good results- like flattery will get you nowhere, I can't pull out your solo pics from my as-ah shit, " she hissed, trying to move, "I need my heating pad." He was quicker than her, jumping over her, letting out a hearty laugh when he heard her squeak and let out a few vulgar words. As quick and agile as a cat he hopped back on the bed, turning her on her back as he placed it on her lower belly, "There, all better?"

Nodding she placed her hands on the pad, pressing it against her skin before sighing, continuing, "Anyway, someone was like oh can you like crop us out and put us somewhere to turn it into our logo- you mean cut you out and paste the image, spend time blending, shading, fixing the highlights- no, because its not in the contract and I'm not being paid more for this."

"I...wow..." he mumbled, running his fingers through her hair soothingly as he sat beside her, looking down at her only to notice her trembling power lip and glossy eyes, "What's...wrong...baby, you don't have to do anything that wasn't under your contract." He hummed, tracing his fingertips over the slightly warmer skin of her forehead absentmindedly, "You want me to talk to -"

"That puppy was so sad, he looked like he wanted to cry and..." Turning to her side, as she closed her eyes, the rush of emotions getting a bit to strong, the tears leaking through her clenched eyes, hugging herself. This was stupid, she had ruined his sleep, woke him up in the middle of the night, snapped at him, told him stories that were irrelevant and then ended up crying about a video on puppies.

"I like being the big spoon."

Oh- that's why she felt so warm, and-

"How is laying on top of me the bigger spoon, you're crushing me."

"I'm protecting you from the bad vibes. Told you Hongjoong as a boss sucks, man's a capitalist monster."

With a sigh she relaxed in his hold, the added weight actually helping with the pain, both, physical and psychological.

"To sleep, you should stop thinking, leave your worries, for tomorrow's you." He sighed, giving her another squeeze, though he didn't recieve any response to his wise words, he could get them printed, "You asleep?" He whispered peeking over her shoulder only to smile,  two hours, they'd been awake for two hours, listening to God knows what she was going through, biological and induced. Either way, he was glad that she had the world's best boyfriend, he'd probably boast about this tomorrow to her, when she's in a better mood, when she's well rested and probably complaining once again, about how Hongjoong finding the dumbest, but richest clients. Need not worry, she'd always have someone loyal, sincere and the best big spoon out there- all her's.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky