#but genuinely how does one figure this out

[alexvolleyball]

♂BREAKING DISHES!♂

They're filming the tiktok trend with you.

characters: Sylus; Xavier; Zayne; Rafayel.

warnings: Rafayel! I'm not trying to impose complexes on you! Every girl is beautiful!

a/n: English is not my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. Requests are open.

Sylus:

• Initially, he was reluctant, insisting he didn't want to waste his time on "nonsense."

• Eventually, though, you managed to persuade him. You showed him several videos demonstrating the trend, and he nodded in understanding. “Why should I put you on my shoulder when you could just sit on my face?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

• You playfully slapped his forearm and shot him a disapproving look. “Sylus! I plan to post this on TikTok!” you exclaimed, half-amused and half-annoyed.

• “Well, if we film something else, then you can post that on—Ouch!” He barely finished his thought before you poked him in the side, pretending to be offended. You turned as if to leave, but he quickly grasped your wrist and pulled you back towards him. “Alright, kitten, don’t sulk, okay?” His voice was gentle as he pressed a soft kiss to your nose, only to follow it up with a playful bite, chuckling at the way you scrunched up your adorable nose in response. “I’ll do it for you.”

• What can I say? He nailed the trend effortlessly. You didn’t even need to jump, as Sylus effortlessly tossed you onto his strong shoulder. A man says it, a man does it. A man of his word indeed. 10/10!

Xavier:

• He was sleeping sweetly until you jolted him awake. You should have seen the look of confusion on his face! Xavier genuinely struggled to comprehend what you wanted from him, his brain still in a fog.

• After a few attempts, he finally nodded and got out of bed, tousling his hair. The man stretched, revealing a hint of his stomach and showcasing his delicious abs. You swallowed hard, pulling yourself together, and placed your phone on the nightstand, turning on the camera.

• To say you nailed it would be an understatement. Xavier still didn’t quite grasp what he was supposed to do. A couple of times, you fell, but his quick reflexes kept you from kissing the floor.

• By the tenth attempt, Xavier somewhat figured things out.

• Well, "figured out" might be a stretch. He just hoisted you up by your arms and legs, tossing you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes! “Xavier! Not like that!”

• And what was the end result? After a couple of hours, you finally captured that trend! But he’s such a sweetheart. “Did I do everything right? Am I a good boy?” The hunter looked at you with puppy dog eyes, flashing a charming smile. How could you stay mad? But for dropping you a few times, you rated him a solid 7/10.

Zayne:

• The cream of the crop.

• He was deeply engrossed in his work at the computer, but the moment you walked in and shared your idea, Zayne immediately set everything aside just to give you his undivided attention.

• It only took him one video to grasp exactly what needed to be done.

• The doctor unfastened the buttons on his sleeves to roll them up, revealing his veined arms.

• No jumping was necessary. The man effortlessly lifted you by the waist and hoisted you onto his shoulder. With one hand securely holding you, he casually slipped the other into his pocket. Zayne caught sight of your beaming smile and couldn’t help but grin back. Tilting his neck towards you, he gently kissed your leg and rubbed his cheek against it. “You're so light, my princess.”

• Too hot and too sweet all at once! ♾️/10!!!

Rafayel:

• After your request, he rolled his eyes. You were already losing interest in filming with him. “Fine, I'll just shoot with your assistant; he looks strong.”

• “What?! Don't you dare!” the artist shouted, feeling a pang of jealousy. “Alright, I'll do that silly trend with you!”

• Well, you knew just where to push his buttons.

• He had come across that type of video a few times, so he knew what to do. But Rafayel wouldn’t be Rafayel if he didn’t start teasing you. He pretended he couldn’t lift you at all. “Damn! You're so heavy!”

• He had you in tears. Rafayel literally knelt before you, begging for your forgiveness. “My little fish, I was just kidding! You’re the lightest girl in the world!”

• In the end, you nailed the trend. The artist effortlessly sat you on his shoulder. For the teasing and reducing you to tears, he gets a 1/10.

© 2024 do reblog, but don’t copy or publish my work on other platforms, or translate (without my permission) into other languages. Any coincidences are coincidental! The dividers belong to me! If you want use them, just tag me: @alexvolleyball

[starfieldcanvas]

When people say "industrial sewing machine" it does not mean "robot that can sew", it means "normal sewing machine that is made to be used constantly." They look exactly like the kind you buy to use at home except much sturdier, sometimes with extra features, but still fundamentally recognizable as a sewing machine that one person sits at to use.

There are Silicon Valley tech startups trying to figure out how to genuinely automate clothing production and last I checked they haven't even figured out T-shirts. The one clothing thing I know of that IS actually mass produced by machines is tights/nylons. There are probably simple types of knitted socks or caps that can be fully machine made. But if there's a single stitch of sewing involved, a human was sitting there using a sewing machine to sew it.

I'm so pissed right now. I know that fabric has been declining in quality for a while but I just bought new pajamas from kmart and they are literally see through. Not just through one layer of fabric either; I can see through the leg, that is, through 2 layers of fabric. These aren't clothes. I am not exaggerating when I say that I have strained soup through cheesecloth thicker than these pants. These are men's flannel pajamas, the kind people wear in winter, and they are made if shittier thinner fabric than even the most bargain bin bullshit halloween costumes. This "flannel" feels like plastic and is thinner than a chux wipe. Why is this even for sale.

[loveesiren]

𝖤𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝖢𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍 (𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖳𝗐𝗈)

Rafe Cameron x Reader | Part One

a/n: Here's part two! Thank you for all the love on this mini series. I'll be posting part three on Monday!

synopsis: Y/N has always been close to the Cameron family, practically a part of it after years of friendship. Beneath the surface, unspoken feelings simmer between her and Rafe, but neither of them can muster the courage to admit it. When Y/N finally decides to move on, setting her sights on a new man, he’s forced to confront the truth: losing her might cost him more than he ever realized.

warnings: language, slight angst

wc: 2.4k+

Your date with JJ was going surprisingly well. Dinner at the club had been set up by Sarah—she knew JJ wouldn’t exactly be the “wine and dine” type on his own but figured he’d appreciate the effort. To his credit, he carried the conversation effortlessly, keeping you laughing and genuinely interested.

“Sarah was nice to set this up,” JJ said, his trademark grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, dinner was great!” you replied, your bubbly tone matching the sparkle in your eyes.

JJ leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What do you say we finish the night a little more Pogue style?” he asked, his smirk dripping with mischief.

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, curious. “And what does that entail?”

“A kegger at the Boneyard,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “We’ll take my bike. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

You couldn’t help but smile. The club was elegant, sure, but it felt lifeless—hardly what you’d call a Saturday night. A bonfire and a few drinks sounded like the perfect way to round out the evening. “Okay, I’m in!”

JJ’s grin widened as he stood, offering you his hand. He led you out of the club and to his bike, pulling the helmet off the handlebars. “Safety first,” he said with a wink, holding it out to you.

Butterflies danced in your stomach as you bit your lip, taking the helmet from him. You slipped it on and climbed onto the bike, your sundress brushing against his jeans as you wrapped your arms snugly around his waist.

“Ready?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Definitely,” you replied, your voice filled with excitement.

JJ revved the engine, and the bike roared to life beneath you. The wind whipped through your hair, and you let out a delighted squeal as the adrenaline rushed through your veins. The sunset painted the world in warm hues of orange and pink as the scenery blurred past. For those few moments, you felt completely free.

The ride ended too soon, and before you knew it, you were pulling up to the Boneyard. JJ helped you off the bike, his hands brushing yours as you removed the helmet and shook out your beachy waves. The soft breeze teased the hem of your dress as you adjusted it, your cheeks flushed from the ride.

Rafe saw you the moment you arrived. He’d heard the rumble of JJ’s bike and had turned just in time to see you hop off, your arms still lingering around JJ’s waist. His heart skipped a beat—first from concern at seeing you on a motorcycle, then from something much darker.

He watched you in silence, his grip tightening around the drink in his hand. You moved effortlessly, like something out of a dream, your smile lighting up the beach as you waved hello to everyone. JJ had an arm draped casually around your shoulders, and the proud, almost smug look on his face made Rafe’s blood boil.

He sipped his drink, trying to ignore the sharp twist in his chest as you ran off to Sarah, no doubt eager to gush about the date. He turned back to the bonfire, pretending not to notice you spotting him from across the flames. But then you waved, your excitement palpable. Rafe mustered a smile and waved back, the motion feeling heavier than it should have.

“Hey, Rafey!” you called, bounding toward him.

“Hey,” he replied, forcing a grin as you wrapped your arms around him in a quick hug. The scent of your perfume lingered in the air, softening him for just a moment.

“How was your date?” he asked, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

“It actually went really well!” you beamed, your enthusiasm making his heart sink. “JJ’s really funny,” you added, glancing back at the boy in question. JJ was deep in conversation with Pope and Kiara, gesturing animatedly.

Rafe swallowed hard, his chest tightening as he fought to keep his tone light. “Good. I’m glad,” he said, though the words tasted bitter. Glad? He wasn’t glad. He wasn’t anywhere close to glad. He was furious, jealous, and heartbroken all at once.

You didn’t seem to notice his strained smile, too focused on the drinks table. “I just came to grab some drinks,” you explained, filling two cups with beer from the keg. “But don’t worry—tomorrow, I’m all yours! I’ll bring lunch, and we can finish unpacking your place.”

Rafe forced a smile. “Sounds perfect,” he said, even though the idea of unpacking felt hollow compared to the sight of you glowing after your date.

You flashed him one last dazzling smile before hurrying back to JJ, the two drinks in hand. Rafe’s eyes followed you helplessly as you leaned into JJ, handing him a cup and laughing in a way Rafe had never seen before. It was a carefree, uninhibited laugh—like JJ had unlocked a piece of you that Rafe hadn’t been able to reach.

And then he saw it.

JJ tilted your chin up with his hand, his lips brushing softly against yours in a way that felt both casual and intimate. The sight hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, his chest tightening as a sharp sting pricked his eyes. He blinked hard, willing the tears away.

“You good, dude?” Topper’s voice broke through the haze. He clapped a hand on Rafe’s shoulder, offering him another beer.

Rafe’s gaze didn’t waver from the two of you down the beach. “Yeah,” he muttered, though his voice was hollow.

Topper followed his line of sight and let out a low whistle. “Damn,” he said simply, patting Rafe on the back. “Come on, dude. Let’s get shitfaced.”

Rafe tore his eyes away from you, taking the beer from Topper. He didn’t trust himself to look at you again. Instead, he drained the cup in one long gulp, the alcohol doing little to dull the ache in his chest.

Because for the first time, Rafe Cameron knew exactly what jealousy felt like. And it wasn’t just jealousy—it was fear. Fear that he might have already lost you to someone else. Fear that he’d never be able to tell you just how much you meant to him.

You weren’t just a fleeting crush, or some girl who came and went. You were Y/N. His best friend. His ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark world.

And now, you might never be his.

Despite your pounding headache and a stomach still queasy from the night before, you kept your promise to Rafe. You had fallen asleep peacefully in JJ’s arms on the beach, lulled by the soft crash of waves and the warmth of his embrace. But the morning was far less forgiving. The bright sunrise pierced through your closed eyelids, the wind stung your skin, and the sand clung stubbornly to every surface.

JJ had been sweet, though, giving you a ride back to your car, still parked at the club. He kissed you goodbye, his lips soft but brief, and you couldn’t help but smile as you drove to Rafe’s house.

“Hey!” you greeted, your usual cheerful tone intact, though your face gave away the telltale signs of a hangover.

Rafe opened the door, his expression soft but guarded. “Hey,” he replied with a half-smile, stepping aside to let you in.

The moment you flopped onto his couch, Rafe went into caretaker mode. He handed you a liquid IV packet and a greasy breakfast sandwich, his silent way of nursing you back to life.

“You’re the fucking best,” you said through a mouthful of bacon, smiling as the salty, greasy goodness worked its magic. “Thank you!”

Rafe smiled back, but his eyes told a different story. Beneath the surface, there was something heavy, something unspoken.

“Are you okay?” you asked, narrowing your eyes as you studied his face.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, brushing off your concern. “Just had a bit too much to drink last night, too.” He averted his gaze, avoiding the real reason for his melancholy.

Before you could press him further, a knock at the door interrupted. Sarah burst in, John B trailing behind her.

“Ugh, kill me now!” Sarah groaned dramatically, throwing herself into your arms. “Why did we drink so much?!”

You chuckled, smoothing down her knotted hair. “Because we’re dumbasses,” you teased, and she whined in agreement.

“What are you guys doing here?” Rafe asked, his voice tinged with mild annoyance. “We already moved all the furniture.”

“Needed to get away from the house,” John B said, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Figured we’d help unpack.”

You glanced at Rafe, offering a soft, understanding smile. You had been looking forward to spending the day alone with him. There was something simmering beneath the surface, something he wasn’t saying, and you wanted to help him let it out. But with Sarah and John B here, that wasn’t going to happen.

Rafe’s smile in return was faint and sad. There it was again—the longing in his eyes, the weight of words left unsaid. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it tugged at your heart.

The day dragged on for Rafe. While he and John B worked in tense silence, he could hear your laughter from the other room as Sarah bombarded you with questions about JJ.

“So, do you like him?” Sarah asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Yeah, the date was great,” you admitted, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks. “I’d love to see him again.”

The words were like shards of glass in Rafe’s ears, cutting deep. His stomach churned with every mention of JJ’s name, and it only got worse as the conversation continued.

“Can you guys talk about anything else?” John B finally said, shooting a pointed look at Sarah.

Sarah rolled her eyes but giggled, turning the conversation toward the TV show you’d been binging together.

Rafe visibly relaxed at the shift in topic, though the tension in his shoulders remained.

“You like her, don’t you?” John B asked quietly, his voice low enough that you and Sarah couldn’t hear.

“Is it that obvious?” Rafe replied, placing books on the shelf in front of him, his movements deliberate and slow.

“Why don’t you just tell her?”

Rafe hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “She doesn’t feel the same,” he said finally. “We’re just friends.”

“How do you know?”

“Don’t you hear the way she talks about him?” Rafe gestured toward the living room where your laughter rang out like music. “She’s happy. That’s all I want for her.”

John B studied him for a moment, then sighed. “Look, man. JJ’s my best friend, and he’s a great guy. But…”

“But what?” Rafe asked, his voice sharp with urgency.

“But JJ will move on,” John B said, his tone calm and measured. “If it doesn’t work out, he’ll be fine. He’s got options—Kiara’s had a thing for him forever anyway.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened as he absorbed John B’s words. He wanted to believe them, wanted to think there was still a chance for him. But after a long moment, he shook his head.

“It’s not my choice,” Rafe said quietly. “It’s hers. If JJ makes her happy, then that’s what matters. I’d never forgive myself if I ruined it for her.”

John B nodded, his respect for Rafe growing. “That’s big of you,” he said.

Rafe didn’t respond, his focus fixed on a box of photo frames.

He knew what it would mean to keep quiet—to watch from the sidelines as you fell deeper into someone else’s arms. But no matter how much it hurt, he wasn’t going to risk your happiness. If things didn’t work out with JJ, Rafe would be there to pick up the pieces. And if they did, he’d swallow his pain and smile for you—even if it killed him inside.

Because to Rafe, your happiness was worth more than his own.

-

John B and Sarah called it a day around 6 p.m., leaving just you and Rafe on the balcony. The sun was still hanging low in the summer sky, casting everything in a warm, golden light. The air was soft and salty, carrying the gentle crash of waves from the shore below. You and Rafe cracked jokes and laughed, sipping cold beers as the hours melted into one another.

Rafe’s smile seemed effortless, and you relished seeing him that way. What you didn’t notice was the way his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking—admiring the way your sun-kissed skin glowed and the way your beachy waves fell perfectly over your shoulders. It felt peaceful, like nothing could disturb the calm of the moment.

Until your phone buzzed.

You glanced at the screen, and a wide smile stretched across your face. Rafe noticed instantly, his heart sinking as he already knew who it was.

“Hey, uh, JJ wants to pick me up,” you said, your tone light. “Is it okay if I leave my car here for now?”

Rafe’s smile faltered, replaced by a frown he couldn’t hide.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your brow furrowing with concern.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” he muttered, his voice clipped and cold as he took another swig of beer.

“Rafe… is something wrong?” you pressed, sensing the shift in his mood.

“Nope,” he said flatly, standing abruptly and heading inside.

You scoffed, setting your beer down as you followed after him. “Something is obviously wrong, Rafe,” you said, your voice firm but confused. “I’ve seen it in your eyes these past few days. Just tell me what’s going on!”

Rafe stopped, his jaw tight as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “Just go, Y/N. Get out,” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the air between you.

You froze, stunned. Rafe had never spoken to you like this before. Tears pricked your eyes as you processed his words. For a moment, you wanted to yell back, to demand an explanation, but the lump in your throat made it impossible.

“I’ll get out,” you whispered, grabbing your bag with trembling hands. You texted JJ to meet at his house instead, desperate to get far away from Rafe.

Rafe watched from the window as your car disappeared down the road. The weight of regret settled over him. He clenched his fists, hating himself for lashing out at you. You didn’t deserve that. Not even close.

In an attempt to dull the pain, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and locked himself in his room, determined to drink away the ache in his chest.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list! :)

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001 @seojunandsoju @niktwazny303 @jjmaybankmylovee @simp4f1 @faephoria @toftomgmf @bunnykoo901 @adarkskinarchives @millietozier @babybreadamericano @hwaaholic @dilfluvr4evr @wtfdudesblog @harrys-housewife @sereneera @lizziesangel

[whitegownsandflowercrowns]

I’m reading the lawsuit now. I’m not sure. How can I tell if it’s legit vs lies?

Genuine thanks for this question and not just immediately assuming that she's lying.

Look, at the end of the day, none of us were there. The only people that know what truly went down are the people that were on that set (which is true of any lawsuit), but here's what's really convincing me.

First things first, Baldoni hired Melissa Nathan back in August to run his public relations (and this article even mentions the allegations that he made Lively uncomfortable). Nathan worked for Johnny Depp during his defamation trial against Amber Heard, and it has been found that a technique called "astroturfing" was used against Heard on social media during this trial. Astroturfing is defined as "the deceptive practice of presenting an orchestrated marketing or public relations campaign in the guise of unsolicited comments from members of the public." Basically, artificially creating hate or hype for a public figure but making it seem organic. If you remember the Depp/Heard trial, you remember how much social media seemed to turn against her. If you remember this summer, you remember how much social media seemed to turn against Blake Lively. The fact that the same public relations team was on the other side of both alleged smear campaigns is a red flag.

Second, the text messages that have been released between Baldoni and the PR team are, in my opinion, incredibly damning. One member of the team, Jennifer Abel, texted Nathan "I think you guys need to be tough and show the strength of what you guys can do in these scenarios. He wants to feel like she can be buried." Nathan responded "Of course - but you know when we send over documents we can't send over the work we will or could do because that could get us in a lot of trouble. We can't write we will destroy her. Imagine if a document saying all the things that he wants ends up in the wrong hands. You know we can bury anyone." Right below are some screenshots from the New York Times article:

Later texts also involve praise for this article

Now, is it possible that all of these texts have been faked? Of course. But they are also lengthy (I did not include all of them here) and considering what I mentioned above, unlikely.

Thirdly, I'm just considering who has more to gain from this. I will admit my own bias here - I've never bought the idea that women by and large make allegations to become rich or famous or to gain sympathy. Amber Heard is probably still one of the most hated women on the planet. Name five of Bill Cosby's accusers off of the top of your head.

But what does each party have to gain? If Baldoni loses this case and is found in the public eye to have sexually harassed the women on the set of It Ends With Us, that's probably the end of his career. As far as I know, he doesn't have the industry goodwill that Roman Polanski or Woody Allen or even Johnny Depp do, and he will most likely start losing acting and directing roles. If he wins, and the public decides that Lively is lying, his career won't be destroyed. It will almost certainly have been set back, and there will always be people who'll look at him differently, but overall he should be fine. He may even gain a new fanbase.

If Lively loses this case and is found to have been lying, her career is tarnished forever. She will undoubtedly be known as the "next Amber Heard," and she will lose out on acting roles. The taint may even carry over to her husband. If she wins, and the public decides that Baldoni did in fact sexually harass women on set, she will probably be fine. Like Baldoni, there will always be people who'll believe that she was lying, but she'll be overall fine. However, it's important to note that she had a third option: to not pursue this at all. If she chooses not to pursue legal action against Baldoni, both of their careers remain unimpacted. While there would still have been a negative public perception of her, it probably would have blown over eventually. A lawsuit and possible trial is much more permanent in people's memories. So to me, the fact that she's choosing to pursue this knowing what the outcome of her losing would be speaks volumes.

Finally, the fact that her lawsuit states that other women on set were harassed and felt uncomfortable. Again, could be a lie, but that is a lie that is very easy to disprove. And if the women who worked on this set testify that they never felt uncomfortable, that will permanently damage her case. It just feels like too much of a risk to play with if you're lying.

Of course, don't just take my word for it - do your own research, seek out differing opinions, etc. but those are my views. I hope they helped in some way!

[junixscribble]

SCREAMS ur responses are so good ty for feeding us I'm so excited for your writing omggg

ANYWHO. SO. You mentioned Jayce giving Viktor a raspberry and also the tags on the s2 art so~ let's humor that~

Raspberries are arguably one of the most childish and intimate forms of tickling because well duh. I feel like Viktor probably never had a raspberry before Jayce (at least not one he remembers). He probably saw parents blow raspberries onto their giggling kids and thought to himself "I guess it's funny, or feels weird". Never considered just how bad it could tickle.

Jayce on the other hand is FULL OF LOVE and definitely has fuzzy memories of his mom pressing her lips to his belly when he was younger. Even just tickly kisses would take him down! He's a tummy guy.

Anyway, I feel like Jayce would suddenly remember that he can Do That to Viktor one day, and he just HAS to try it out. Poor Viktor probably looks in absolute horror as Jayce pushes his shirt up and takes a big breath in Like???? What are you DOING Jayce?!?!? Then when he touches down, Viktor SCREAMS. Like full on EEEEEEEEEEs because holy shit it tickles so so so bad. Probably knocks his head against the floor as he shrieks. Jayce has big ol powerful cheeks and a scratchy face (before the beard) so it's unbearable 💔

Poor Jayce probably gets a metal leg brace to the head as Viktor jerks his legs involuntarily. And oh boy does Vik blush because ??? WHAT WAS THAT????

You know how I said I was taking so long cause I had Ideas? Well. Here you go!

Fruit

Title: Fruit

WC: 1376w

Summary: Tensions are high in the lab with tight deadlines. Arguments are had, resolved, and when under inordinate amounts of pressure one must make time for stupidity.

——————

Viktor rested his head against the blackboard, sighing. Work had been trying lately. The council was expecting something big, and fast, so he and Jayce often found themselves burning the midnight oil more often than not. Their late nights and stressed disposition had led to a decent few arguments, mainly about stupid things such as who left the dishes all over the kitchen. Most recently it had been about an equation that had ended up half rubbed out - neither of them could decide who had done it, and both were saddled with figuring out what had been written down and rewriting it. 

They had been ignoring each other for most of the day, and to be honest Viktor was tired of it. These hours only passed quickly when there was chatter and ideas being thrown about like darts at a board. With nothing but chalk scratching breaking the silence, the seconds were painful. Usually Jayce was the one to break such silences, but he had been steadfastly soldering one of his gauntlets for the past hour and a half. 

For once in his life, Viktor put his stubborn nature aside and relented. He set his chalk down and wiped his hand on the side of his pants before walking over to Jayce, leaning on his crutch. Jayce didn’t look up on his approach, and Viktor stood awkwardly by him for a full minute until he put down the soldering iron.

“If you have something to say, say it.” Jayce said through gritted teeth. Viktor shifted his weight awkwardly. 

“I… am sorry. About the equation. Truthfully, the last few days have been melding into each other, and I can’t remember who wiped the board. It very well could have been me.” 

Jayce sat up straighter, genuine surprise in his eyes. “You’re not here to berate me some more?”

Viktor flushed, looking aside. It was hard to keep composure when Jayce was looking at him like a kicked puppy. “No. I should not have done so in the first place.” 

There was a moment of silence where Viktor was convinced Jayce was going to turn his back on him, but before the idea could make a home in his head Jayce was up and his arms were wrapped around him. 

“It’s okay. We’ve been working hard, and I’ve said some things I regret too. Still partners?” Jayce asked, pulling back slightly. 

Viktor allowed himself a smile and put a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. “Of course. Now, I’m sure I have some alcohol in here from last time…” 

…

The next few days were a complete turn around from the stress. Now that they weren’t on edge around each other the ideas were flowing and problems that seemed impossible suddenly had clear solutions. 

“Ha! If I reverse the polarity on this, it will stop the hex crystal from spinning out of control!” Viktor exclaimed, nearly throwing his screwdriver. Jayce pushed away from his workbench and cheered. 

“Man, we are on a roll.” He sat contended for a bit before furrowing his brow. “Vik, I’ve just realised I’ve never asked you about your family.” 

Viktor turned to face him, amused. “And what started this train of thought?”

Jayce shrugged. “I was just thinking.” 

“Dangerous, coming from you. Anyway, there was never much to speak of. Never had siblings, my father was absent before I was born, and my mother passed when I was quite young. As was the way of most in Zaun.” Viktor said.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Don’t be. The life I lead now… it makes up for it.” 

Jayce tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Aw, I’m glad to hear I’m like your family.”

Viktor sputtered. “I- what…well-”

Jayce laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Ooooh, we should do family things! Have a big awkward dinner with aunts you’ve never met, create unnecessary drama,...”

“Jayce, it sounds like you are describing the council.” Viktor commented, half a laugh on his breath. 

Jayce mimed vomiting and pouted before lighting up like a candle. “No, of course not. I couldn’t do this with any members of the council.” 

Viktor assumed he was talking about their banter, so he smiled and turned back to his work. However, the minute he picked up his pen he was grabbed from behind and wrapped up in a hug. He squeaked in surprise and swore in his native tongue before going limp in his embrace - he’d learned there was no escaping Jayce when he got lovey-dovey. 

“You know something else families do?” Jayce sing-songed, being a dick about it.

“What, Jayce?” Viktor sighed, playing along. 

It turned out there was no verbal response to that question - that being because Jayce had taken the opportunity to worm his fingers under Viktor’s arms and start wiggling on his ribs. Viktor immediately curled in on himself and made a strangled noise, pushing at Jayce’s hands. 

“No! Jahayce, you bastard-” He yelled, squirming. Jayce just laughed, pulling him away from the bench and over to the couch they had set up. Viktor knew what that meant, and he knew it could lead to him not getting back to his work for at least an hour. When one of his moods struck Jayce was hard to escape - not that Viktor minded too much. He could admit he needed the break, and he could put up with Jayce. 

Nevertheless, he protested. “Jaaaayce JayceJayceJayce we can talk about this, no? You don’t have to- haha! You don’t have to do this!” 

“Oh, but I do.” 

Viktor half-fought Jayce trying to shove him down on the couch, swearing the whole time. The minute he was down, Jayce would go ham and he wouldn’t know peace. Despite the half-assed attempts at escape Jayce successfully pinned an already laughing Viktor to the couch, and Viktor braced himself. What came, however, was hands deftly pulling up his shirt in one quick movement. 

“What the fu-” was all Viktor managed before Jayce took a deep breath and blew a raspberry on his stomach. Now, Viktor had seen this done before - often parents with small children - but always assumed the resulting laughter was because of the general silliness of the action. Never in a million years had he expected it to tickle so fucking badly. 

Viktor let out what could only be described as a screech at the contact, immediately kicking out and bashing his head on the back of the couch. Jayce nuzzled his face into his tummy, grinning, and Viktor broke into a chorus of cackles. 

“JAHAYCE! Whahaha- whahat are you dohohoing??” 

“What do you think?” He replied, still speaking into Viktor’s stomach and by god he was going to dissolve because his stubble made it so much worse. Viktor shrieked again when Jayce blew yet another raspberry, squirming within an inch of his life. 

“Yohou fucking asshole!” He yelled out for nothing, getting rewarded with Jayce’s fingers joining in the fun by kneading into his lower ribs. He made a series of high pitched sustained yelps at this, caught between the sensations of rough hands on sensitive skin and lips over spots he was discovering were really ticklish. After one particularly potent raspberry, Viktor accidentally sent his knee straight into the back of Jayce’s head, finally halting the onslaught.   

“Ow!” Jayce cradled his head while Viktor caught his breath, quickly covering his stomach. 

“You deserve that!” Viktor admonished, sitting up. His eyes were wide, staring at Jayce.

“Have you… have you never had someone blow a raspberry on you before?”

Viktor shook his head. “That affront to dignity is named after a fruit?” 

Jayce laughed. “Yes.”

“I was not expecting it to… have such an effect.” 

“No? If it’s too much, I won’t do it again-”

“No!” Viktor said before he could stop himself. “I mean, ah, I can handle your bullshit if I must, Jayce.” 

Jayce raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to do it again?”

Viktor turned red. “Of course not.” 

Despite this, he sank further into the couch and his shirt rode up slightly. He didn’t pull it back down. Jayce grinned. 

“Well regardless, I’m not done with you.” 

It took very little time for Viktor to start cackling. Again.

[flwrkid14]

Jason Todd: Dad Mode Activated

There’s a new dynamic in the Batfamily, and nobody saw it coming. Jason Todd—Red Hood, former Robin, perennial black sheep of the Wayne family—has apparently decided that Tim Drake is his son. And no one, least of all Tim, knows what to do about it.

It starts subtly, if you can call Jason “subtle.” He starts showing up when Tim’s been too busy to eat, tossing him a burger or some takeout with a gruff, “Eat, Replacement.” He’s there when Tim’s working himself to the bone, slamming the laptop shut and growling about how his kid isn’t going to die of exhaustion on his watch. When Tim’s in over his head, Jason’s suddenly there, guns blazing, a protective shadow with a deadly smirk.

Tim’s confused. Very confused. Jason has always been... antagonistic, at best. But now he’s... scolding him? Encouraging him? Telling him he’s proud when Tim does something impressive? The man even started calling him “kid” instead of “Replacement,” which is somehow worse because it makes Tim feel all warm and fuzzy inside. What is happening?

Eventually, Tim asks. And Jason, in true Jason fashion, gives an explanation that doesn’t explain much at all.

“Look, Dick’s already treating Damian like his own kid, Bruce is busy helping Duke figure out his place in the family, Cass and Babs are practically attached at the hip—like sisters or something. And you?” Jason shrugs. “You’re my kid.”

Tim stares. “I’m your what?”

“My kid,” Jason repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re smart, you’re resourceful, you’ve got my stubbornness—which, yeah, is annoying—and someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed. Congrats, kid. You’ve been adopted.”

It doesn’t really explain anything, but Tim decides not to argue. After all, Jason’s kind of a good dad? He feeds Tim, checks in on him, teaches him things like how to hotwire a car (Tim already knows, but Jason’s so enthusiastic about it that Tim doesn’t have the heart to tell him). And Jason has his back in a way that feels steady, solid. Like he’s not going anywhere.

The thing is, Jason doesn’t stop there. He starts talking about Tim in ways that make Tim want to crawl under a rock. To Roy, to Kory, to anyone who’ll listen. “My kid’s a genius,” Jason brags, his voice filled with so much pride it makes Tim’s chest ache. “Runs a whole company and saves Gotham on the side. Kid’s got a brain the size of the Batcomputer.”

And it’s not just talk. Jason drags Tim along to meet-ups with other vigilantes or allies, casually introducing him like a proud dad at a PTA meeting. “This is Tim,” Jason says, grinning ear to ear. “My kid. Smartest of the bunch, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Tim flushes, stammering out an awkward, “Uh, hi,” while Jason beams like he’s just presented a Nobel Prize winner.

The height of Tim’s mortification comes when Jason introduces him to Talia—not as a fellow vigilante or even a respected ally, but as his son. Talia, who had become something of a mother figure to Jason after the Pit, is apparently now being roped into her new role as a grandmother. Jason insists it’s only right that she meet her “grandkid” and treat Tim accordingly. Tim, meanwhile, wants to disappear into the floor while Jason beams with unrestrained pride.

“Yeah, this is my boy,” Jason says, arms crossed, radiating smug pride. “Smart, resourceful, better than Bruce—don’t even try to deny it.”

Tim wants the floor to open up and swallow him. But he also can’t help feeling... warm. Embarrassed, yes, but also kind of happy. Jason’s over-the-top pride is ridiculous, but it’s genuine. It’s not something Tim’s used to—someone being proud of him just for being himself.

And of course, Jason’s newfound dad energy throws the rest of the family into chaos.

Bruce tries to scold Tim about something minor—maybe staying out too late on patrol—and Tim just raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna tell my dad,” he says, completely deadpan. And then he does. Jason shows up at the Batcave later, tearing into Bruce about how his kid doesn’t need this kind of negativity in his life, and Bruce is left speechless.

Damian tries to insult Tim, calling him a weak link or some other scathing remark, and Tim smirks. “Careful, Damian. I’m your nephew now. Better watch your mouth, or Uncle Jason might have something to say about it.”

Even Dick’s thrown off by it. “Jay,” he says one day, watching Jason shove a plate of food at Tim with all the grace of a brick. “You do realize Tim isn’t actually your son, right?”

Jason glares at him. “He’s mine. I’m the dad here. You’ve got Demon Spawn, I’ve got Tim. Deal with it.”

Tim doesn’t understand how or why this happened, but honestly? He’s not complaining. Jason might not be the most conventional parent, but he’s a damn good one. And for Tim, who’s always felt a little lost in the shuffle of the chaotic Wayne family, having someone claim him so fiercely, so completely, feels... nice.

So yeah. Jason Todd: Red Hood, vigilante, crime lord, accidental dad. Who would’ve thought?

[waffleboyy]

Rambles under the cut

i like to think Dale was actually a fairly happy kid, especially when he got discovered by Doug, but as he matured and thought back on his situation he grew more hateful and resentful because no one cared to find or look for him for SEVEN YEARS, so why should he care about anyone else? I'm sure doug gave him a good home, and Dale, (much like dev) really admires his father but dale cares more so about how people perceive him rather than actually being cared for, because he doesn't know the difference.

Dale also grew really materialistic to make sure he never had to fear going back to that lemonade sweat shop ever again, which is why he's so attached to his boots rather than his son, because people have failed him before but money and goods have never left him. also I know...basic, sorry, but out of any of the characters, he. HE! He has autism. Dale is not very good at masking and he doesn't make an effort to hide it, but it's kind of hard to notice since he's always alone, and everyone just chalks it up as "capitalist guy who has no sense of the common man" , which is true but let me have fun. Like he never wants to see people despite being a millionaire and like public figure? He says random weird phrases that are just kind of out of touch, and he most likely has an aversion to physical touch as well because I KNOW dev has never gotten a hug. also he's very blunt and doesn't sugar coat anything he says, and while that may be because "he's a millionaire he doesn't have to care about what he says" I like to think it's because he genuinely has no social awareness. At all. He just does whatever the fuck he wants and good for him, kind of. ( Not really) ... Also the statue and the boots thing is simply because he does love his boots more than dev, like it's just a fact. He doesn't hate his son or he didn't do that just to rub it in , it's just a genuine fact for him that he values his boots, material things, things that never hurt him, over his son. I could talk about different examples all day but this is getting too long lol.

Also random head canon, But Dale has asthma and valley fever from all of the untouched dust and dirt filling his lungs from the lemonade stuff, but he's also been able to hold a resistance from needing an inhaler or breathing machine because of it, so he rarely needs it maybe once in a blue moon. Dev also has asthma, but he's literally like. A baby. While his dad is more immune to needing it, dev is just always cooped inside so he's never built any resistance so he needs it frequently.

hehe sorry ok I'm done... probably.... probably not...

[scimagic]

Any tips for artist tryna improve their art? Love ur art and would love to some tips and tricks of yours! ^^

BOOHOO;; THANK YOU!! THAT'S SUCH A NICE COMPLIMENT TO ME;; Like what do you mean you like what I do enough that you want to hear some tips from me!! DON'T MAKE ME CRY FHDJKSA

I really really tried to make things short for you but I don't think I was very successful dkhkdh but I hope you find them useful!! <3

Tracing (not the stealing kind):

Tracing is not bad when it's used to study, some of my college assignments were copying renaissance artists' sketches! Hell, when I was a kid I used to trace Undertale fanart I liked and look where I'm at fhjkads

When you study other people's styles, you can actually gather a lot of information like line weight or proportions, colors, even stylization. So get your favorite artists' pieces and really look at them for a long time, draw them, then apply what you learn into your own art. Just be careful to not steal or claim something as your own!

Focus on one area at a time:

Now you have to chose one area to practice on. You could tackle on many at a time but I find it easier to pinpoint what I would like to do first and then move on to the next thing.

There's a lot of subjects you can go into like anatomy, rendering, backgrounds, but you just have to find one area in them and get a lot of references.

For anatomy you can go into: muscle movement, figure drawing, body parts in different angles.

Rendering: Shading, lighting, color theory.

Backgrounds: Point perspective, different camera angles, landscapes or detailed room scenes.

Don't overwhelm yourself either! Take one thing at a time!

Dear god get a reference board:

Pinterest really helped me find styles I wanted to study and anatomy tips to incorporate in my art. It really relates to my first point but having an actual compilation of how things look next to you really helps. It also helps keeping them organized like so:

Do The Thing™️ anyway:

I know it's repetitive but it genuinely works you have to trust me, practice does make progress. Stop letting fear hold you back on compositions you think are great or believe you don't have "enough skills yet" to work on them. You will never get enough skills if you don't try.

My college classes forced me to pick up watercolors and paint backgrounds and I learned a lot just from trying it out. Make mistakes!! Have fun! That's how you truly improve on your skills!

Be patient and loving with yourself (and your art!):

I cannot stress enough how important it is to love your art in order to grow. You NEED to learn how to be patient with your art AND your journey because it will never compare to anyone's!! Art is not a competition nor a race, it's a medium to express yourself through a process you like. That's why there's millions of art styles and why each of them cater to a different audience!

Once you do, you can actually ask important questions like "Did I like the process? What can I improve on next time? What's something I liked I want to continue incorporating into my art?", and it helps with self esteem too.

And last but not least:

Have fun!!

Art is a journey of self-discovery, it's not meant to be something that weighs you down or makes you feel bad when you're not working on it. Take constant breaks! No matter how short or how long! If you get tired or incredibly frustrated at it, then it's probably best you take a break from it!

Thank you for listening and supporting me!! I love you!!

[letteredlettered]

Hello!! Firstly, I'd just like to say I've recently discovered your drarry work, and I have been reading your entire catalogue of it for the last week. Pulled all nighters can't stop reading it, reading it. I devoured The Boy Who Lived Twice in one sitting and I couldn't believe how well crafted it was. Blew my mind.

Now, all of this is to say, your prose has this elegant straightforwardness that is so succinct, so clear and so evocative. Your dialogue is absolute *perfection*. What are your influences? Books or authors you feel made an impression on you? I'd love to know what you read, because god I love what you write.

Thank you! I'm so glad you like my fics.

Jane Austen is a huge influence. Whenever my prose feels indistinct and overburdened, I return to her. She says things extremely sharply and cleanly.

Sarah Rees Brennan was a huge influence on me in terms of POV. I tend to write a very tight third person, so tight that the reader can generally see things the viewpoint character cannot. Check out the first book of The Demon's Lexicon series for one of the best examples of this I've read.

I spent a lot of time with Robin McKinley as a kid. I don't think that our styles match very well; she can do an ethereal, fairytale tone that I've kind of given up on. But what I loved best about her was that she could do that tone but then write something incredibly down to earth. I would check out Beauty or Deerskin for my favorite examples of this.

I actually also came into the style I write now writing for Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) fandom. While most of the stories I wrote in that fandom didn't have very sharp dialogue, I remember writing a story (a WIP still languishing on livejournal, sadly) where I realized I had "found" my voice and style. It was extremely dialogue-heavy. BtVS was famous at the time for its extremely fast-paced, idiosyncratic, snappy dialogue. The dialogue is now considered dated, and the creator is a douche, but imo it's still great writing, especially the early shows. I still go back to it sometimes to figure out a conversation with multiple people, or to work on my humor.

As for authors that have made an impression on me, I'd check out George Eliot. My favorite book is Daniel Deronda. It has wonderful dialogue, especially for an older book. Dickens, Dostoevsky, and Hugo all made pretty big impressions on me as well; I think these big, hefty books with really big ideas really influenced my language, even though I would by no means call my style 19th c.

I'd also check out Rainbow Rowell. I wouldn't say she influenced the style I write with now, because I had it before I read anything by her, but she's one of the few contemporary authors I read and think, "Yeah, I'd write it like that." I think anything by her is a great read that can give you a lot to think about in terms of style.

In my mind, Sally Rooney is a little like Rowell in terms of a cleans style that packs a sharp analysis. I'd call Rowell more comfortable, funny, and genuine, while Rooney is a bit aloof and literary. I actually don't like the stories in her books very much, but I found Conversations with Friends particularly refreshing in terms of writing style.

C.S. Pacat's Captive Prince series also left an impression on me. It has a clean, simple style, with a narrator who doesn't see everything the reader does. And I also did learn a lot from the use of the word "said," in those books--it was something I already knew! and yet.

I think some fanfic that made a big impression on me is The Paradox Series, by wordstrings (Sherlock/John, Sherlock BBC), Spice, by eimeo (Kirk/Spock, Star Trek TOS), Children, Wake Up by hollycomb (Kylo Ren/Hux, Star Wars: The Force Awakens) and Tarnished Gold, by prim_the_amazing (Shen Yuan/Luo Binghe, Scum Villain's Self-Saving System). The styles in these fics vary, but each bowled me over at different points with how beautifully something was articulated or how spectacularly a scene was crafted. I think about Spice all the time in particular.

I'd also say that if you're thinking about dialogue in particular, I also love both Oscar Wilde's and Tom Stoppard's plays.

If you are a writer, I did write a series on writing dialogue. Check out the tag "lettered writes dialogue". The first post is here.

[lightningant]

There's a lot of fluff about how Harry shows no sign of trauma from his upbringing but maybe it's because I was neglected and often spoken of as extremely well-adjusted, but to me Harry seems to be a pretty natural response to a combination of neglect and a stable upbringing? He's not like. Traumatized. But a lot of people just develop maladaptive habits from these circumstances. Like:

Dissociative tendencies. I know this one is not intentional, but he shows constant lack of focus which interferes with his schooling and will often just space out and stare at things. This is used as a device to point the reader towards plot relevant items and turn them from irrelevant details, but it is something he does.

Harry does not actually distrust adults outright at first! He goes to teachers for help! But he tends to disrespect them, and struggles to think of adults as figures of authority the moment they slip up. Hagrid's bumbling chaos, Quirrell's nerves, Snape beefing with an 11-year-old, McGonagall not taking his Very Real Concerns seriously, Vernon's bluster, these are moments Harry discards their authority - that child thought McGonagall was going to burn him at the stake at first, but was barely shaken by her later. And it makes sense! You are a powerless child, you are looked down on, but the "consequences" you face are things you got used to and feel are normal, so you take strength from being unafraid of punishment.

A lot of fluff is made about abuse victims and independence because yeah, obviously, but I do think a lot of his savior/martyr complex is egged on by his servile role; he lived his entire life apart from the Dursleys, but they relied on him. To be crude, when someone shits the bed he puts it in the washer. And I do think he takes satisfaction in being the best man for the job, and I do think that can breed a whole host of mental problems that will lead you to a fated suicide duel with a Dark Lord

The books are mean-spirited in general, but he learned a lot of the fundamentals on engaging with the world from the Dursleys. He's pretty consistently petty and vindictive! And I genuinely believe Harry is, personally, as a character, fatphobic (in addition to the doylist text being fatphobic), because it was something Dudley gets criticized for and thus something that proves Dudley isn't infallible, and he would have definitely fixated on it and felt comfortable doing so, because that's just how the Dursleys talk about people.

For that matter, he is in general stifled by the inner lives of others - he's somehow the most socially stunted person in a trio with Hermoine in it. He is at all times deeply uncomfortable by the thought that other people have feelings and motivations, and reifies people with strong, clear roles in his life, and a lot of his development is realizing there are people behind those roles. I stand by the fact that Harry naming a child after Snape is a symptom of unaddressed mental illness.

This boy is so unbelievably susceptible to mania. I'll acknowledge a lot of his behaviour is teenage bull-headedness but the way the extremes of "I need to be doing something Now" and catastrophizing only gets worse...You know when he's 30 he's going to get prescribed mood stabilizers

And these are all things that can spiral into really toxic and self-destructive behaviour, which we know because that's what happens in the books. I think part of pushing his trauma in fanfiction is accepting that sometimes when someone is traumatized they develop an awful personality instead of PTSD.

(You may now reread this entire post and think about Tom Riddle.)

[deonn-jaelle]

Under the lights

word count : 2,914

warning ‼️ : smut

pairing : aurelien x black fem reader

summary : an evening out by yourself turns into a romantic, steamy night with your…..good friend.

Paris was alive with its usual magic—glittering lights, cobblestone streets kissed by the faint glow of streetlamps, and the hum of evening conversations spilling out from the cafés. You stepped out of your favorite bistro in the Marais, the evening air cool against your skin. You adjusted your scarf, glancing up at the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. The sight always managed to steal your breath, even after living in the city for two years.

“Y/n” a deep voice called behind you.

You turned, your pulse quickening as you recognized the tall, striking figure approaching you.

Aurélien Tchouameni.

The star midfielder for the French national team and an international sensation. His face—sharp jawline, piercing brown eyes, and an effortless charm—was a regular on billboards and magazine covers. But here, in the intimate glow of the Parisian night, he was just Aurelien. No flashing cameras, no roaring stadium crowds.

“ Aurélien,” you said, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. “What brings you here?”

“I was hoping to see you.”

His words were simple, but the intensity in his gaze made your cheeks warm. You met him months ago at a gala you’d been covering as a journalist. Since then, he had found ways to linger in your life—chance encounters that never felt entirely accidental.

“You were hoping to see me?” you repeated, an eyebrow arching.

He smiled, that slow, devastating grin that had charmed millions but seemed crafted just for you in this moment. “Does that surprise you?”

“A little,” you admitted, folding your arms as you leaned against the lamppost. “Big-time football stars don’t usually frequent neighborhood cafés.”

“Maybe I wanted to try something new,” he replied, stepping closer. The space between you shrank, and the cool air suddenly felt warmer. Your heart raced, but you masked it with a smirk. “And you thought you’d find excitement here?”

“I’m finding it now,” he said, his voice lower, softer. His gaze dipped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Let me take you out tonight.”

You hesitated. You weren’t immune to Aurélien’s charm, but you weren’t the type to swoon over fame or flashy gestures. Still, there was something about him—something genuine behind the confidence.

“Where?” you asked, tilting your head.

“You’ll see,” he said, offering his hand.

You stared at his outstretched palm, the smooth tone of his skin contrasting against the dark fabric of his coat. Finally, you took it, letting his warmth spread through you.

An hour later, You found yourself seated at a small, candlelit bistro tucked away in one of Paris’s quieter streets. The restaurant was intimate, with soft jazz playing in the background and couples scattered at tables, lost in their own worlds.

“How did you find this place?” you asked as you sipped your wine.

“A teammate told me about it,” Aurélien said, leaning back in his chair. “Said it was perfect for nights when you want to disappear.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Disappearing isn’t something I’d imagine you’d be good at.”

He chuckled, a sound that seemed to vibrate through you. “You’d be surprised. I’m not always looking for the spotlight.”

“And what are you looking for now?” you challenged, meeting his gaze head-on.

“You,” he said simply.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced herself to play it cool. “That’s a bold answer.”

“I’m a bold man,” he replied, his lips curving into a grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”

“With you, yes.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. For a moment, you forgot where you were, lost in the way his eyes seemed to see right through your carefully constructed walls.

“Tell me about you,” he said, leaning forward. “The real Y/n. Not the journalist with the sharp wit or the woman who keeps dodging my calls.”

You smirked. “Dodging your calls? I prefer to think of it as… being selective.”

“Selective, huh?” He chuckled, his hand brushing yours on the table. The touch was brief but electric. “Then I feel even more honored to be here.”

“You should,” you teased, though your voice softened.

You talked for hours, the conversation flowing as effortlessly as the wine. You found herself opening up in ways you hadn’t expected—about your upbringing in New York, your move to Paris to pursue journalism, and the struggles of balancing ambition with vulnerability. Aurelien listened intently, his gaze never wavering.

“And you?” you asked, curiosity finally getting the better of you. “What’s it like being… you?”

He shrugged, a hint of vulnerability flashing across his face. “It’s not as glamorous as people think. The pressure, the scrutiny—it can get overwhelming.”

“But you love it,” you said, studying him.

“I do,” he admitted. “But it’s nights like this that remind me why it’s worth it. Meeting people who see me for more than just the headlines.”

Your chest tightened at his words. You’d spent so much of your career dissecting public figures, analyzing their every move. Yet here, sitting across from Aurélien, he felt disarmingly real.

By the time you left the bistro, the city had quieted. You strolled down the cobblestone streets, your footsteps echoing in the stillness.

“Thank you for tonight,” You said, glancing up at him.

“I should be thanking you,” he replied, his hand brushing yours as you walked.

The silence between you was comfortable, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. When you reached a small park near his apartment, Aurélien stopped, turning to face you fully.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, his voice low.

“Depends on the question,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile.

He stepped closer, the space between them evaporating. “Do you want to come inside?”

Your breath hitched. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—made it impossible to say no.

“Yes,” you said softly.

The smile that spread across his face was radiant, his eyes lighting up with a boyish charm that made her chest ache.

Without another word, he cupped your face in his hands, his touch warm against your chilled skin. His lips met yours, gentle at first, as if testing the waters. But when you responded, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his intensity grew.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath his coat. He pulled you closer, one hand tangling in your curls, the other resting on your lower back.

When you finally broke apart, both breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.

As you took his hand, your lips still tingling from his kiss, you couldn’t help but smile. For once, you felt like the walls you built around yourself didn’t need to stay so high. Maybe, just maybe, you were ready to see where this could lead.

The soft hum of jazz filled the air as you stepped into Aurélien’s apartment.

You weren’t sure what you had expected when you agreed to come inside, but the cozy, understated elegance of his home surprised you. Warm lighting, minimalist decor, and a wall of bookshelves gave it a personality you hadn't anticipated.

"You live here?" you teased, setting your coat on the arm of the sofa.

"Disappointed?" he asked, stepping into the open kitchen.

"No," you admitted, walking toward him.

"I guess I expected something flashier. This is... nice."

He smiled as he poured two glasses of wine.

"I don't need flash at home. It's the one place where I can just be me."

As he handed you a glass, your fingers brushed, and that familiar spark ignited. You tried to focus on anything but the way his presence seemed to fill the room. You talked and laughed as easily as they had at the bistro, right now felt different. More intimate. By the time you moved to the couch, your nerves were buzzing. Aurélien sat close, your knees brushing, his scent— earthy and clean-pulling you in.

"You know," he said softly, "I've been thinking about you all week." Your heart skipped.

"Oh I’m sure you have" you say slightly joking

He leaned closer, his voice dropping." And now that you're here, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to let you leave."

You laughed, but the sound was shaky. "You’re a bold man."

"I am bold man." he murmured, in agreement, brushing a curl from your face,

The air thickened, charged with unspoken desire. His hand slid to your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin as he leaned in. When your lips met, the world seemed to tilt. His kiss was slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second. You melted against him, your hands finding his shoulders as he deepened the kiss. The soft hum of music faded, replaced by the sound of your breathing, the gentle rustle of fabric as his arms circled your waist. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours once more, his eyes searching yours for permission to go further.

"Y/n," he whispered, your name a question and a promise all at once.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as you nodded, your breath hitching. "Yes."

He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you toward the bedroom. The space was just as warm and inviting as the rest of his apartment, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting shadows on the walls. Aurélien set you down gently, his hands never leaving you as he kissed you again, slower this time. His lips traced a path down your neck, his touch reverent as he explored your skin. Your head tilted back, your fingers tangling in his hair as you let herself surrender to the moment.

Aurelien's strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. He whispered your name "Y/n” his French accent making it sound like a secret. You unbuttoned his shirt, revealing chiseled abs and broad shoulders.

Your fingers traced the defined muscles, feeling the power that made him a force on the soccer field. Aurélien’s hands explored your curves, marveling at the beautiful mix of your bronze skin tones. He unzipped your dress, letting it pool at your feet, leaving you in black lace.

The dim light caressed your curves, making you look like a dark goddess. He stepped back to admire you. His breath caught in his throat. You moved closer, pressing your body against his. His lips found yours- hungry, possessive.

His hands moved to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around him as he stumbled forward onto a plush love seat near an open window. The night air was cool on your bare skin, contrasting with the heat generated between you.

Aurélien broke the kiss to trail kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone. Your head fell back, exposing more of your throat to his hungry mouth. He gripped your hips tightly, grinding his hardness against your core. You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"I need you," Aurélien growled, his voice rough with desire. Your response was to squeeze your legs tighter around him, trying to get closer. He reached between your bodies, fumbling with his belt before tearing open a condom with his teeth.

As he kicked off his pants, you wriggled out of your underwear, leaving you bare before him. Aurelien paused, taking in your form - the swell of your breasts, the flare of your hips, the softness of your thighs.

“Si beau" he murmured. He slowly lowered you down onto him - easily sliding into you due to how you’ve secretly wanted him badly all night- his hands splayed possessively on your hips. He kissed you softly, his thumb stroking your cheek as he guided himself inside you.

You inhaled sharply as he filled you, your back arching to take him deeper. He wrapped your legs around his waist, his large hands supporting your ass as he began to move. The chair creaked under your movements, the room filled with your heavy breaths and soft moans.

Aurelien's strong arms lifted you up and down on him, his hands roaming over your curves possessively. He broke the kiss to look down at where you joined, his eyes darkening as he watched himself enter you.

"Tellement parfait" he growled, his voice strained with desire. He pulled out almost completely before slamming back into you , the force of his hips making you bounce on his lap. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you clung to him, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Look at me chérie” he commanded, his voice deep and demanding. You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. He slowed his pace, moving deliberately now, making each thrust count. His thumb found your clit, circling it gently in rhythm with his hips.

Your eyes rolled back as pleasure overwhelmed you. "Aurélien" you whimpered, your voice barely audible. He smiled, his heart swelling with love and desire. He picked up the pace again, his thumb pressing harder against your sensitive clit as he fucked you mercilessly on the lounge chair.

He wrapped his arms around you , pulling you flush against his chest. "Wrap your legs around me," he ordered, his voice strained. You locked your ankles at his back, allowing him to go even deeper. He grunted, his face a mask of concentration.

Aurélien stood up, still buried inside you, and carried you to the bed. He sat down, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist, and leaned back against the headboard. Your back arched as he sank deeper into you, the change in position hitting your g-spot perfectly.

"You like that?" Aurelien asked, smirking as you whimpered and clung to him. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, opening you up even wider as he pounded into you. The bed creaked loudly, keeping rhythm with your bodies slapping together.

Your nails dug into Aurelien's shoulders once again as you tried to pull him closer, needing more of him inside you. He hissed at the sharp pain, but it only seemed to fuel his desire.

"More?" he growled, thrusting harder. You nodded, unable to form words as pleasure coursed through you. He reached between the two of you, finding your sensitive clit and rubbing in time with his thrusts.

"Tell me you want it," he whispered harshly against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Tell me you want me to make you cum all over my dick." His fingers continued their maddening dance on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

"I want it," you choked out, your voice desperate. "I want you to make me cum so bad." Aurelien grinned, his eyes dark with lust. "That's what I like to hear" he said, his thrusts becoming even more brutal as he drove into your gushing pussy.

"Your pussy feels so good around me," he groaned, adjusting his angle to hit just the right spot, triggering waves of pleasure through you. You could feel your orgasm building, intense and inevitable. "Not yet," he commanded, slowing his pace slightly despite her desperate whimpers.

"I'm going to count to three," he said, his voice low and commanding. "And when I reach three, I want you to cum for me. Hard." He started moving again, his thrusts long and deep, each one pushing you closer to the edge. "One,"

... "Two..." His pace picked up, becoming more urgent as he felt your muscles clutching him tighter. "Three..." A surge of pleasure rushed through you as he hit that perfect spot, and with his command, you shattered completely, your body convulsing around him in a powerful orgasm.

grunts "That's it... cum all over this dick" he growled, his own pleasure building as he felt you pulsating around him. "Don't stop... ride through it" he commanded, continuing his punishing rhythm.

As you rode through your release, he wrapped his hand around your neck. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice rough with barely contained passion. He wanted to see your face as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your pleasure.

Your eyes locked, he picked up his pace, slamming into you as he gazed into your dilated pupils. "You're going to cum again, and again, and again..." He punctuated each word with a hard thrust, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

Needless to say, it was a long night. Time seemed to blur as you came together, your movements tender yet passionate. Your touch was a mixture of strength and care, his attention to your every reaction making you feel seen in a way you never had before. When you both finally lay tangled in the sheets, your breaths mingling in the quiet, you traced lazy circles on his chest.

"I wasn't expecting this," you admitted, your voice soft.

"Neither was I," he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But I'm glad it happened."

You smiled, closing your eyes as you rested against him. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace-wrapped in the warmth of something that felt like it could be real.

“Goodnight, Y/n” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple before closing his eyes.

“Goodnight, Aurélien” you whispered, slowly drifting off to sleep.

note: lets just act like his house isn’t designed badly and it looks like how it’s described :) anyway, i hope you all enjoyed and tell me what you think!!!

[emsprovisions]

❄️ Day 21 - You Can Call Me Babe for the Weekend ❄️

🎁 Today's fic is dedicated to @ironheartwriter! It’s Lana's birthday!!! Go and shower her in birthday wishes and love!

Summary: Carlos agrees to be TK's date to Enzo's family Christmas gathering in New York.

Word count: 1122

24 Days of Tarlos Masterpost

“Uchh,” TK groans, slumping into an empty chair beside Nancy with a bowl of Paul’s chili.

”What’s wrong with you?” She asks, eyeballing her best friend with apprehension.

”I need a date for this Christmas dinner thing my stepdad is hosting,” TK explains.

”Why do you need a date?” Marjan quirks a brow from where she’s seated across the table.

”Because,” TK starts, already beginning to wave his sass hand in the air. “My family will pester me about why I’m still single after Alex dumped me over a year ago. Or they’ll keep bringing him up and rehashing exactly what I did wrong to make my boyfriend be unfaithful to me. It’ll be a whole thing and I’d really rather avoid it. It’s just, how the hell can I find a date less than a week before I need one? And he has to be willing to go to New York with me and my mom.”

”I’ll go with you.”

All eyes around the table snap forward to the cop sitting at the end beside Paul.

Carlos is staring at TK with genuine interest in solving his problem and TK is practically melting inside at the thought of Carlos being his fake date to his dysfunctional family Christmas. He and Carlos have become close friends in the year that TK’s moved to Austin. In fact, he’s the one who invited the patrol officer over for lunch on his shift because he knows Carlos loves Paul’s chili. 

TK also has an embarrassingly huge crush on Carlos, one he knows Nancy is aware of, and she is making eyeballs at him right now and jabbing his calf with her foot to accept Carlos’s offer.

”Oh, that’s so sweet, Carlos, but you don’t have to,” TK shakes his head.

”I’d like to,” Carlos offers TK a small smile. His big, brown eyes get all soft, and TK is nothing but putty in this man’s hands because how could he refuse cow eyes?

He can’t. Which is how he has found himself days later wedged between his mother, bouncing a baby Jonah on her knee, and Carlos, on a plane bound for New York. 

His mom is in on the ruse, Gwyn also aware that her son has feelings for the officer, and she has agreed to play along for the sake of this weekend going smoothly.

Carlos is accepted into the de la Costa family like he’s their own son. He flirts with Tía Carmen, complimenting her and winking like they have years of inside jokes between them. He’s great with the small gaggle of children that are somehow related to Enzo. He even charms Enzo himself, who more often than not never seemed too impressed with the guys TK introduced him to.

It’s at the big family dinner though that Carlos is really put to the test as TK’s boyfriend. They had predetermined many details of their forged relationship, especially after Nancy intervened and brought up her extensive movie and book knowledge on the very subject of fake dating. But of course, the one aspect they somehow hadn’t considered to figure out is asked.

”So, Carlos, how did you and TK meet?” Enzo’s sister asks, as she passes Carlos a bowl of salad.

Carlos grins, looking over at TK beside him before back at Catalina. 

“We were on a call, actually,” Carlos begins. “It was raining, and I’d heard the 126 had a new fire captain, but I hadn’t met him or his son yet. We had to save this baby stuck in a tree and the moment TK laid eyes on me, I Was completely done for. All I could see were these bright green eyes, shining in the headlights. TK probably doesn’t remember this, but he stood beside me and grabbed my shoulder while his dad climbed the ladder himself to save the baby.”

Carlos is wrong. TK does remember all that. What surprises him most though is that Carlos also remembers it.

”I saw him again later that night after work at this honky tonk in Austin and I asked him to dance,” Carlos continues, looking back towards TK and reaching for his hand with a smile. “It was the best decision of my life.”

TK also remembers the line dancing at the bar. He stepped on Carlos’s feet and they laughed and he swore he’d never met anyone more beautiful. But TK was a wrecking ball back then. A hot mess fresh off a relapse and a breakup and he had no business getting involved with anyone else so soon, sexual or otherwise. He still felt too raw, too on edge, and even before he knew Carlos’s name, he knew Carlos deserved better than that. So they became friends. And now TK’s wondering if maybe he ruined their chance to ever be more all the way back then, on that first night they’d met. 

Only Carlos is looking at him like he hung the moon and practically everyone around the table is swooning over Carlos’s story. 

“God, that’s romantic. Dammit, Javier, why can’t you be more like Carlos!” Catalina turns to her own husband to swat at his arm, and the table dissolves into laughter and chatter, and TK can’t stop staring at Carlos.

He catches Carlos’s eye, and Carlos just smiles softly back at him. 

“Aren’t you two the cutest lovebirds,” Abuelita just melts from across the table as she catches them staring at each other. “Reminds me of me and my husband when we were young.”

TK just laughs and squeezes Carlos’s hand. “Hear that, babe? Sounds like Abuelita’s already planning our wedding.”

“I’m just saying,” Abuelita laughs. “I know that look when I see it.”

Later, when they’re alone for the night and trying to solve the issue of only one bed, TK just sinks onto the edge of the mattress, his head still spinning from earlier. “I didn’t know you remembered when we met that well.”

Carlos freezes where he’d been gathering pillows to make a makeshift divider on the bed. “I remember everything about you, TK.”

“What does that mean?” TK furrows his brows at his fake boyfriend. 

“It means I meant every word,” Carlos explains slowly with a small, hopeful smile. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, TK, and I know you weren’t ready for anything back then, but I’ve waited, hoping that one day, you might be.”

TK’s brows shoot to his forehead as he stares at Carlos. 

That night, the pillow divider is abandoned as their clothes end up on the floor, and TK does what he should’ve done all those months ago, and Carlos is even happier to become TK’s real boyfriend than to be his fake one.

[losticaruss]

not sure if people have already posted about this but i think it's important to share. i know they've posted follow-ups on tiktok (and maybe ig), including the statement that it is OFFICIALLY happening CHRISTMAS EVE AND CHRISTMAS DAY. DECEMBER 24 AND 25. there's also an official list that includes, but isn't limited to, spotify, tiktok, ig, ANY meta products, hulu, netflix, and the like. genuinely this is SOSOSO important

[ID: a tiktok from @/skyfisherforskyfish.

audio begins:

"i've moved on from feeling spiteful. im officially feeling... diabolical. the next big thing we can do to harm big business- after you've cancelled your amazon subscription, after you've cancelled your audible, after you've moved your money out of big banks and into local credit union, after you've figured out a way to buy local- the next big thing, ladies and gentlemen, is the data strike of Christmas 2024. why would a data strike be effective? because data is the most valuable asset on earth, right after human suffering from denying people who need healthcare, healthcare. that is actually the reason behind the tiktok ban. it's not about national security, it's about the data war that's happening between the united states and china. Christmas is a very pivotal moment, because all of the gifts are purchased, and now companies get to observe what you do with the money and gifts you've been given. your data is critically important right now for training their models and training their campaigns going forward on how consumer behavior is influenced by the holidays. that's not the only thing. following the shooting of the united healthcare ceo, the surveillance state has absolutely exploded in popularity- as you can see, many cities particularly los angeles (where i live) expanding their budgets for next year to use video surveillance on its populations. it's horrifying! it's dystopian! it's entirely preventable. the data strike is one to two days where we simply get off social media. you do not give them a second of your time for advertising dollars, for data mining, for any of it. this would not only kneecap the marketing budgets of big businesses, which have already been spent, they've already been expended, you will only ruin their r.o.i.. you will also prevent them from furthering the expansion of the surveillance state. you could directly say fuck you to zuckerberg and musk easily, with no pain. further, it's a great opportunity because during the holidays, we're pretty busy anyways, and you're there with family. and i know you're like 'oh, i don't want to hang out with my family, i just want to tap out!' challenge yourself. even if you're not having a good time, just have a time, rather than being completely numbed out by your screen, don't you think? one day won't kill you. two days would be a superhuman feat and i would be so impressed, i'd be so proud of you. you could also save on carbon emissions, because it requires a lot of energy to run this app (tiktok) and all of its servers, and every other social media. i have already seen such an enormous amount of collective action taken- people cancelling their amazon subscriptions, people taking their money out of big banks, going to local credit unions, decentralizing their purchases, starting small, local community gardens, going back to their libraries- people are taking action, and just because you don't see it online does not mean it's not happening. in fact, i want you to be absolutely aware that the reason you're not seeing it online is because it is happening. together, we can do the data strike of Christmas 2024. please share this video, please encourage your friends and family to take this shit seriously because the effect and the impact we could have on the market, on the surveillance state, and on the environment is legitimately enormous, and i believe in us. thank you for watching, i know this video is long, i know you've got shit to do. have fun scrolling. talk to later, bye."

/end ID]

[changingplumbob]

CW: Low level sim spice, language - Guide to content warnings

Glenn: I missed you, but I get why you didn't come last weekend

Silver: And be a chew toy for the twins in their own house? There was no way. Thanks for not asking me to

Glenn: I mean... I think they improve on closer acquaintance. Henri was right, a lot of their venom is just figuring out when I'll snap

Silver: You're far too generous

Glenn: You like me generous

Silver: Sometimes. I do enjoy...

Glenn: Go on

The pair laid on the lawn behind Howard's house but within the barrier spells. The night was clear and it gave them a perfect view of the stars.

Silver: Fine. I do like when you're insolent

Glenn: What does insolent mean

Silver: Audaciously rude and disrespectful

Glenn: What does disrespectful mean

Silver: It means- *sighs* You knew what insolent meant didn't you

Glenn: *chuckles* Pretty sure they just use the term brat now. You wouldn't know because you're ancient. A whole 743

Silver: Definitely not that old, but keep trying. I love you by the way

Glenn: You do?

Silver: Is it such a shock?

Glenn: Well no, I love you to. I just figured that was me being quick to feel stuff

Silver: Not that quick, we met five months ago

Glenn: What? It has not been that long

Silver: It has. Or are you being a- brat?

Glenn: No I genuinely just did not notice it had been that long. I mean it doesn't feel that long. But then it also feels like I've known you forever

Silver: That's not very flattering

Glenn: You misunderstand. I just- I feel so comfortable when you're here. It feels natural you know

Silver: Yeah. To me you feel safe

Glenn: Safe? I- really?

Silver: Yes. You're confused?

Glenn: I just... I don't think of myself as very good at protecting. Like me feeling safe makes sense because you could tear the arms off anything that tried to hurt me-

Silver: Obviously

Glenn: But what would I do? Throw flowers?

Silver: Some of those planter pots you have are really heavy

Glenn: True. I just think of my abs more as decorative instead of functional

Silver: I mean you make my soul feel safe

Glenn: Me to. I'm really glad it's dark so you can't see how I'm blushing

Silver: Ah, I'm a werewolf. I can feel the heat from here

Glenn: Cheater

Silver: I'm just using my natural born gifts

Glenn: You do have a lot of them. Oh there, do you see the bunny

Silver: In the stars?

Glenn: No on my chest, YES in the stars

Silver: *sighs* Something tells me werewolves and spellcasters use different constellations

Glenn: That... that is probably true. Why is it like this Silver

Silver: What do you mean

Glenn: Why is there all this separation and hate and division in the world

Silver: I wish I had a good answer, but I don't understand it either

Glenn: Why can't people just get along? Why can't the humans just accept occults? Why can't occults accept other occults?

Silver: Maybe one day they will

Glenn: Do you think that or are you just trying to make me feel better

Silver: I mean, one thing you notice when time passes is that things change. Not just the treelines or the flow of rivers but attitudes can change to

Glenn: I hope so. Except your attitude to me, I hope that doesn't change

Silver: It won't. Now show me where I'm meant to be seeing this bunny in the stars

Glenn smiled and began explaining using stars they both knew. He enjoyed the passionate moments he and Silver shared. The ones where he had trouble thinking and keeping quiet. But moments like these- where there was calm and companionship, they were just as special to him.

Previous ... Next

[allison3k0]

MR S UPDATE - Friday (BIG DAY OML) (Last day of school before the winter break)

I F*CKING HUGGED HIM TODAY.

Alright, so, today was chill cuz it was the last day of school before the winter break, and since I was done my animation project tomorrow, during animation (3rd period) I asked my anim teacher if I could go see Mr S cuz I had something to give him, and he let me go so I started going. My anim period is also Mr S' prep so it works out well to give him stuff without him being in a rush to leave or anything.

So I peaked my head into his room cuz he left the door open, and it was dark so I was wondered if he was there, and he was in fact there, so I saw him and said "Hey!" and he said "Hey!" and then I walked in with the mug with the candy canes and said "So, I have something for you" and set the mug down on the desk in front of him and he said "Thank you!" and then I set down the two packets of hot choco I brought him too, and he said "Thank you" again. He picked up the mug and looked at it and said "Oh my gosh, did you draw this?" and I said "Yeah, I drew it myself" and he said "Oh my gosh this is adorable" and I said "Thank you!" and then I said "I also have this" and put a crochet little duck made with grey yarn for the body and green yarn for the accents like the bill and feet and a little tuft of hair on top of its head (it reminded me of him for some reason), and he said "Oh my gosh, (as if he was surprised by the number of things) I didn't know you crochet, I'll have to make sure my dog doesn't get this" and I said "Yeah be careful your dog doesn't get it. Yeah, I don't crochet often, but I learned from my mom" and he said "Wow, thank you so much!" and I said "No problem" and then I was thinking about asking him for a hug but I kept hesitating and then I chickened out, and then he was saying stuff to end the convo like "Well, I hope you have a good break, a good holiday, and I'll see you in the new year." and I interrupted him saying "Wait, I'm coming in after school" and he said "Oh, you're coming in after school?" and I said "Yeah" and then he said "Oh okay" and then I said "I'll see you later then!" and he said "See you later!" and then I left to go back to class.

So then fourth period I was just daydreaming about how to get a hug from him, and what would happen after school, going through every possible scenario and how to word it when I ask for a hug cuz I'd much rather ask than assume he's okay with it and embarrass myself. That period dragged on foreverrrr and then I was finally able to go to my locker and then go see Mr S.

I went to his classroom after school as usual but he was talking with his EA so I was waiting til they were done to say hi, and I did, and they both said hi back. And Mr S said "Hi, how was the rest of your day?" and I said "Great, actually" and he said "Great actually?" and I said "Yeah, psych was really chill, we had a lesson but it was a chill lesson and we had a big class discussion in between too" and he seemed genuinely interested. And then his EA left and we said happy holidays and whatnot. Me and Mr S talked about his plans for the break, and he said "WE'RE going to (town name) to (continues)" like I'm sorry, who tf is WE? He was talking about his fam before that, so maybe he was referring to his fam? But maybe he was referring to a partner? Then he asked me about my plans and I mentioned how I'm going to see a movie tomorrow (still not sure if that's actually happening) but he asked who I'm going to see it with, so I told him "My friend E (Insert first name here, we'll call her Bestie E or E), the one that took me to her cousin's wedding" and he was like "Oh" but like... Why does it matter to him who I go with? Is he trying to figure out if I'm single? Cuz I am 😏.

But anyways, we continued talking a while until he started packing up and I started packing up so I wouldn't miss my chance to hug him while I had it, but holy sh he gets ready fast and he was at the door ready to lock it while it was open, and he was saying "Well, have a great break, don't work too much on school stuff" and I missed the rest cuz I was panicking inside cuz he was about to leave and I wasn't about to let that opportunity go, so I put down my backpack and purse and said "Wait, can I hug you?" in the most frail, barely audible, tiny, lowercase voice ever 😭 and he said "Sure, of course!" AND GAVE ME THE CUTEST MOST GENUINE SMILE I'VE EVER SEEN HIM HAVE. IT WAS LIKE A FACE OF ADMIRATION OR ADORATION. And omg the hug was so short it's so sad but when I first hugged him, I PUT MY ARMS AROUND HIM UNDER HIS ARMS AND HE PUT HIS ARMS AROUND MY SHOULDERS KIND OF- I JUST REALIZED I HUGGED HIS BODY LIKE I TOUCHED HIS BODY OMFG SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP FOAMING AT THE MOUTH- Anyways, he was so nice and warm, AND FOR A SECOND I LAID MY HEAD ON HIS SHOULDER WHILE WE HUGGED, and then I felt the hug was gonna get awkward if it went any longer, but he didn't exactly pull away, I just kinda felt like it was time to let go so I did and the hug was over 😭 it was so short.

When it was over I said "I haven't had a hug in a while" and he said "Oh really?" and I said "Yeah, thank you" and he said "No problem!" with the cutest ahh smile I've ever seen on him before. And we were getting ready to part ways so I said "Alright, thank you so much" and he said "Of course!" and then I said "Bye! See you after the break!" and he said "Bye! Have a great break!" and then I left.

After I left, my hands were shaking so much and so were my knees and I could barely walk so I had to stand outside for a minute before leaving to go home.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Baddie and The Beast | Jacob Fatu x Black!Fem OC | 18+!

Description: Jacob attempts to make things right with Myra

Chapter: 2/6

Face Claim: Flo Milli

Warnings: Mention of drinking, strong language, mention of one night stand.

This is the Jacob x Myra sequel to Swipe Right, Rivals With Benefits and Kiss It Better. As always my stories are NOT about real people and does not reflect their character. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. If kink content isn't for you, specifically Primal Kink (google if need be) for this one, please scroll. You have been warned.

Word count: 1,206

My masterlist can be found here

Taglist: @lov3rla03 @adoreesun @Isabella-2025 @skyesthebomb @acute-crashout-jeyuso @raya-hunter01

Jacob was lifting weights in the gym, trying to distract himself from his failed attempt to ask Myra out the previous day. He had been thinking about her all night, wondering what he had done wrong.

As he was finishing his set, Zilla approached him. "Hey, we need to talk," Zilla said, a serious expression on his face.

Jacob set down the weights and wiped the sweat from his brow. "What's up, Uce?" he asked, sensing that Zilla had something important to say.

Zilla leaned against the weight rack, his arms crossed. "It's about Myra." he said, his voice low.

Jacob's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Myra's name. "What about her?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Zilla shook his head, seeing right through Jacob's act. "You know damn well what I'm talking about," he said. "Last summer, you hooked up with her, and then you ghosted her."

Jacob furrowed his brow, confusion written all over his face. "I did what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. "Nah, I ain't meet her til you and LeLe moved into y'all new spot yesterday."

Zilla raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Jacob's response. "Man, Uce, you really don't remember hooking up with her last summer?" he asked incredulously.

Jacob shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. "No, I swear I don't. Are you sure it was me?" he asked, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Zilla sighed, "That's why she rejected you. She was still hurt from you ghosting her."

Jacob groaned, "Damn it, I can't believe I did that to her," he muttered. "I didn't even remember." He pauses and thinks for a moment, "Shit! She was the girl from the hotel bar."

Zilla nodded, "Yup, that's the one." He watched as realization dawned on Jacob's face.

"I'm such an idiot," Jacob muttered, burying his face in his hands. "How could I have forgotten something like that?"

"You guys kept drinking after you hooked up, you were fucking blitzed, uce." Zilla said.

Jacob groaned again, "Great, just great. No wonder she hates me."

Zilla patted him on the back, "Yeah, well, now you know. How you gonna fix it?" he asked inwardly chuckling at himself at the fact that just last year Roman, Jey and Jimmy were saying roughly the same thing to him in regards to his relationship with Kiley.

Jacob looked up at Zilla, determination in his eyes. "I don't know, but I'm gonna try," he said firmly. "I can't let her hate me. I have to make things right."

Jacob continued, "The next morning, I was in such a rush to check out of the hotel that I didn't even realize I left my phone behind, which had her number in it. After that I just..Forgot."

Zilla shook his head, "Damn, That's a messed up situation."

Jacob nodded, "I know, I know. I should have been more careful. But I swear, I didn't mean to ghost her."

"I'ma figure this shit out." Jacob said, a mix of hope and anxiety in his voice.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴

A few hours later, Kiley and Myra were in Kiley and Zilla's living room, planning the fundraiser for the free clinic they volunteered at. Myra was looking over the guest list, making sure everything was in order, when Kiley pulled out a stack of autographed photos.

Myra raised an eyebrow, "What's that?" she asked, looking at the photos in Kiley's hand.

Kiley grinned, "Autographs from Roman and Jey. I managed to get them to sign some for the fundraiser." She said, but pauses for a moment her brows furrowed in confusion. "What..?"

"I think this stack is for you.." Kiley said handing a few of the photos over to Myra who instantly realized they weren't autographed by Roman or Jey, they were autographed by Jacob with a little sticky note attached. 'I'm sorry i ghosted you. I'll make it up to you however I can. Much love, Samoan Werewolf Jacob Fatu.' Along with his phone number.

Myra's eyes widened as she read the note and saw the photos. Her heart started racing as she looked up at Kiley. "oh.."

Kiley couldn't help but chuckle at the look on Myra's face. "Looks like he wants to make amends," she said, gesturing to the autographs.

Myra was speechless, her mind racing as she stared at the autographs in her hand. She couldn't believe Jacob had actually done something like this.

Kiley could sense her friend's conflicted emotions. "What are you gonna do?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

Myra sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know," she admitted. "Part of me wants to just forget about him, but another part of me is intrigued by this."

She looked down at the autographs again, reading the note once more. "I don't know if I can forgive him that easily."

Kiley placed a comforting hand on Myra's shoulder. "I get it, you've been hurt before. But don't let that stop you from giving him a chance to explain himself."

She paused for a moment before adding, "And who knows, maybe he really is sorry."

Myra took a deep breath, contemplating Kiley's words. "I suppose I could at least.. hold onto the phone number."

Kiley nodded, "That's a start. Take some time to think about it, don't rush into anything. But just know, sometimes forgiveness is worth it."

Myra smiled weakly at Kiley. "Thanks, I'll think about it." She said, tucking the note into her bag.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴

The clinic was in desperate need of supplies and funds, and while a generous and substantial donation from Roman and Iris had went a long way towards helping them out, they still needed more.

The event was held in a large hall, decorated with banners and balloons. There were tables set up with food and drinks, as well as a silent auction where guests could bid on items donated by local businesses as well as the autographs provided by the bloodline.

Roman and Iris arrived at the fundraiser together, both dressed impeccably of course, along with Jey and Jax. Kiley hugged her sisters and thanked them.

Sometimes Myra envied all of her best friend's familial support. Myra had her mom of course but she had went off the deep end since her dad had passed and they had gone no contact in recent years.

Roman looked around the room, taking in the scene. "This place looks great," he said, impressed by the decorations and effort put into the event.

"I'm about to go hit up the snack table." Jey announced.

Myra was helping to oversee the event when her eyes drifted across the room and landed on Jacob. He was standing off to the side, sipping a drink and talking to someone. He looked good, as usual, in a black suit. Dayum he cleans up well..

Myra quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to be caught staring. She tried to focus on her tasks at hand, but her mind kept wandering back to Jacob. The memory of their night together flashed through her mind, and she felt a mix of emotions welling up inside her.

Y'know what? maybe she will call him after this.

Previous Chapter ●◉◎◈◎◉● Next Chapter