#centeralized exchange script

[hivelance]

Can I Make a Crypto Exchange in 1 Week?

Creating a cryptocurrency exchange and trading platform within a week is an ambitious goal, but it's possible with the right tools and resources. Using a ready-made cryptocurrency exchange script, like the one offered by Hivelance, can significantly accelerate the process. Hivelance's cryptocurrency exchange script is ready-made software solutions that provide the core functionality needed to run a crypto exchange, including user registration, wallet management, transaction processing, and security features.

Steps to Create a Crypto Exchange in 1 Week: Day 1: Planning and Requirements Define the Scope: Choose what functionalities your exchange should have. Determine which cryptocurrencies to support, whether to integrate fiat currencies, and whether to include any unique features. Legal Compliance: Look into the legal requirements for running a cryptocurrency exchange in your target regions. This could include gaining licenses and implementing KYC/AML procedures. Day 2-3: Choosing and Acquiring the Script Evaluate Ready-Made Solutions: Explore Hivelance's cryptocurrency exchange script features, customizability, security, and support. Buy and Get: After you're satisfied, buy the script. Make sure you can get technical help for the configuration and customization technique. Day 4-5: Customization and Setup customize the Framework: Change the script to meet your needs. This can involve changing the UI/UX, including features that are added or removed, and incorporating third-party providers. Configure the Server: Establish the environment for your server. Select a dependable hosting provider with strong security features and the capacity to manage heavy traffic. Day 6: Testing Test thoroughly: Make sure every feature is properly tested. This covers the processes for initiating deposits and withdrawals, carrying out transactions, and setting up security measures. To make sure the platform can handle large amounts of traffic and transactions, make sure to test it under load. Day 7: Launch and Marketing Soft Launch: To get early feedback and find any ongoing problems, think about doing a soft launch with a small user base.

Marketing: Begin your marketing efforts. To draw users to your platform, make use of social media, cryptocurrency forums, and other platforms. Using content marketing and SEO to promote your exchange can also be successful tactics. Security: Your first concern should be security. Verify that the script's security features have been enabled, and take into account extra measures like encryption of sensitive data and two-factor authentication (2FA). Support and Maintenance: Be ready to provide continuous support and maintenance. This includes responding to user support inquiries, implementing new features, and updating the program. Scalability: Make sure the system can accommodate an increase in users as it grows. Increasing server capacity or performance-enhancing codebase optimization may be necessary for this. Using a Hivelance's ready-made cryptocurrency exchange script can drastically reduce the development time and cost associated with launching a cryptocurrency exchange in the market. However, the success of your crypto exchange will depend on thorough planning, diligent testing, and effective marketing, as well as maintaining a secure and user-friendly platform. Want to create a fully functional and secure crypto exchange within a week with unlimited features? Hivelance, a cryptocurrency exchange development company, offers effective and market-ready cryptocurrency exchange script for enhanced ROI. Get our 100% customizable and bug-free cryptocurrency exchange script, like cryptocurrency trading script, ready within a week to kickstart your cryptocurrency exchange and trading business in 1 week.

[midnightfict]

A Star in the Making.

— 𓆩𓆪 —

𓆩 Lee Byung-Hun x F!reader 𓆪

Summary — Co-stars were caught in a whirlwind of off-screen chemistry.

A/N — this is a request that i rewrote the draft multiple times. the story request itself is sooo good but i feel this didn't live up to my expectations. hopefully, it's an enjoyable read though.

anon's request post

— 𓆩𓆪 —

Lee Byung-hun sat at the long, polished table across from Kim Tae-ri and the production team, a script resting unopened in front of him. The meeting room buzzed with quiet anticipation as the director leaned forward, clearing his throat.

“So,” the director began, looking between Byung-hun and Tae-ri, “we’re finalizing casting for Our Fading Days. Ji-ho and Min-ji are set, but we’re still struggling with Ha-yoon.”

Kim Tae-ri, who got cast as Min-ji tilted her head. “Isn’t the screen test next week? I thought you had a shortlist already.”

The director sighed. “We do, but none of them quite fit. Ha-yoon is vital to the story. We need someone who embodies her hopeful, cheerful energy, but also has depth. Someone who can hold her own against Ji-ho’s quieter nature and make the audience feel that emotional connection.”

Byung-hun listened quietly, his fingers lightly drumming the table. “What’s the issue with the shortlist?” he asked.

“Either they have great chemistry with you but lack the character,” the director explained, “or have the character but can’t create the platonic bond Ji-ho and Ha-yoon need. We’re considering holding another round of auditions, but…”

The producer chimed in. “We’re running out of time. If either of you has recommendations, please send them our way.”

Kim Tae-ri raised a brow at Byung-hun. “Any ideas?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

That evening, Byung-hun walked home under the dim city lights. The meeting lingered in his mind. Casting Ha-yoon was proving difficult, and he wasn’t sure they’d find someone who could balance the character’s charm and vulnerability.

As he passed a local theater, he noticed the soft glow of lights through the windows. Something pulled at him—curiosity, maybe. Without thinking, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The auditorium was nearly empty, save for a handful of people rehearsing on stage. Byung-hun’s gaze locked on a young woman, her. She stood at the center, pouring raw emotion into a heartfelt scene. Her voice carried across the room, weaving between desperation and hope. The intensity in her eyes made the dialogue feel alive like she wasn’t just acting but being.

He didn’t know the play or her name, but he felt a pang of admiration. The way she transitioned from lighthearted to deeply emotional reminded him of Ha-yoon’s complexity.

When the scene ended, her laughter rang out as she joked with the cast. The shift was so effortless that it startled him. This wasn’t just an actress—this was Ha-yoon.

Before he could gather his thoughts, a stage crew member approached him. “Sorry, sir, rehearsals aren’t open to the public.”

Byung-hun nodded apologetically. “My mistake.”

As he walked out, he pulled out his phone and called the director. “I think I found the perfect Ha-yoon. Contact the Arko Arts Theater. You’ll know her when you see her.”

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

Months passed, and filming for Our Fading Days was in full swing. You, cast as Ha-yoon, had been a bundle of nerves during your first few days on set. Transitioning from theater to television was daunting, but Byung-hun made it easier.

From the start, he was supportive, sharing tips, running lines, and reassuring you when you doubted yourself. “You’re doing great,” he said one evening after a long day of filming. “Better than great. Ha-yoon feels real because of you.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, still unsure. “It just feels… unnatural sometimes. Like I’m out of place.”

He smiled softly. “If that’s unnatural, I can’t imagine what you’re like when you’re in your element.”

The two of you quickly became inseparable. Lunch breaks were spent sharing snacks, late-night text exchanges were filled with inside jokes, and off-set outings turned into a regular thing. Kim Tae-ri often teased the both of you, trying to nudge the relationship further, but you and Byung-hun were oblivious to her hints.

As filming wrapped up, you found yourself bittersweet about the end. “I’m going to miss all of this,” you admitted one day.

He glanced at you. “You mean the show or…”

“Everything,” you replied vaguely.

The promotional interviews were in full swing, and the three of you, Lee Byung-hun, Kim Tae-ri, and you, sat on a couch, microphones in hand, under the bright studio lights.

The interviewer smiled as they turned to the group. “The story of Our Fading Days is so compelling—a childhood friendship between Ji-ho and Ha-yoon drifting apart as Ji-ho falls in love with Min-ji. It’s relatable and bittersweet. But,” they continued, their tone shifting to something more playful, “fans have picked up on something surprising. Despite Ji-ho and Ha-yoon not being a romantic pair, viewers are shipping you two. What do you think about that?”

You blinked, caught off guard for a moment, and then laughed lightly. “Oh, well, I guess it’s pretty common to root for the childhood best friend to end up with the main guy, even though Ji-ho and Ha-yoon see each other as strictly platonic. But yeah, I understand them, Ha-yoon's reaction towards their deteriorating friendship might seem more than platonic to the viewers.”

Before you could say more, Kim Tae-ri let out an amused laugh, shaking her head. “I think you misunderstood. The question wasn’t about Ji-ho and Ha-yoon. They’re asking about you and Byung-hun.”

Your eyes widened as the realization hit, and heat crept up your neck. “Oh.” You let out a nervous laugh, glancing at Byung-hun for support.

Byung-hun grinned, clearly amused by your reaction. “Really?” he said, leaning into the playful tone, “Shipping us? Wow, that’s a first—I didn’t think I had the qualifications to keep up with her. She’s the real star here!”

You laughed along with him, brushing it off. “He's too nice but yeah, Let's keep the shipping between our fictional lives.”

Kim Tae-ri smiled knowingly, her tone light but deliberate. “I don't know, you guys...” She paused, then added slyly, “Min-ji might just be the third wheel around here.”

The interviewer raised their eyebrows, the audience chuckled, and you felt your face grow warmer as you exchanged a quick, sheepish glance with Byung-hun. He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head in mock defeat, and the moment moved on—though the subtle tension lingered in the air.

⋆｡𖦹° ⏾ ˚｡⋆

Even after promotions ended, Byung-hun remained a constant in your life. He came to your theater performances, always waiting backstage with flowers in hand.

“You’re spoiling me,” you joked one night after a show, hugging him tightly.

“You deserve it,” he replied.

That evening, as you both strolled under the city lights, he suddenly stopped.

“You know,” he said, his tone a little nervous.

“Hmm?” you asked, looking up at him.

“I was thinking...” He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Ji-ho and Ha-yoon might make a great couple. Their relationship is certainly more than some friendship, don't you think? ”

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, you were speechless. Then you laughed, the sound warm and genuine.

“Is Ji-ho trying to confess, here?” you teased.

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Well… Ha-yoon definitely can sense the adoration Ji-ho has for her. I can say that she feels the same way.”

He chuckled, his hand brushing yours. “I'm glad she feels the same. She's a star in the making and he will continue walking her way.”

As the two of you walked on, hand in hand, the city seemed brighter than ever.

[theunsinkableship1]

Friends : The one with the first take

⚠️ This a Lukola content, skip if you don't believe.

Yesterday was Polin Day, and to celebrate, Luke shared a brief blooper from the filming of Penelope and Colin’s wedding scene, shot back in 2023. In the clip, as the characters exchange vows, Luke as Colin accidentally says, “I, Colin Bridgerton, take thee, Penelope Featherington, to be my wedding wife.” Realizing the slip, he turns to the audience and asks, “Is that right?” visibly flustered. Looking down, laughing, he adds, “First take,” then tries again, hesitating: “To be my… What was it?” His voice falters slightly as he looks to the crowd for help.

Throughout the moment, Luke appears genuinely nervous, barely making eye contact with Nicola, who watches him with a wide, delighted smile. She eventually turns to the audience and laughs along with them, as they all enjoy the lighthearted mishap together.

Luke posting this particular blooper on Polin Day feels intentional. Of all the possible behind-the-scenes moments he could have shared, he chose this: a vulnerable, slightly flustered, very real clip of him stumbling over his lines. That is an interesting moment, especially when you slow it down and really observe the layers beneath the blooper. On the surface, it’s a cute wedding fluff moment between co-stars, but emotionally, it registers differently, particularly when you know them well, as many Lukola shippers do. a symbolic vow that, in its imperfection, becomes more intimate, more endearing. They were filming their characters’ wedding vows, a moment that for actors can already feel emotionally charged, but for these two, who’ve been surrounded by speculation, silence, and what many fans sense is a deeper connection, it’s doubly loaded. The slip-up “wedding wife” and the way it throws him off completely although understandable is... poetic. It’s clumsy and raw and real. The exact opposite of PR-polished or staged.

From a shipping perspective, it’s hard to see this and not feel something stir. The moment is chaotic, sincere, and vulnerable. Luke's little error becomes a metaphor: when things are real, the stakes feel higher. It’s no longer just acting. It’s a physical glitch triggered by emotion, not just memory.

What stands out is how genuine Luke appears in this moment. He looks nervous, almost as though the line carries more weight than just a scripted phrase. His laughter isn’t just comedic, it’s revealing. He breaks the fourth wall, not only asking the audience for help, but almost looking for reassurance. Luke is typically confident and composed during bloopers, playful even, but here, he looks genuinely flustered. He’s not just laughing at a forgotten line, he’s visibly rattled, almost shy, and avoids looking at Nicola, even though she’s right next to him. That’s telling. It’s as if the weight of the words «take thee Penelope to be my...", hit too close to something real. The voice crack and his embarrassment feel emotionally charged even. Not stage nerves, something deeper And yet Nicola, calm, centered, glowing, beams at him with so much joy and affection. She doesn’t correct him, tease him, or interrupt him. She just watches him, smiles grandly, and shares the moment with the audience. It’s as if she’s already in the vow, already his wife in that moment, amused and tender. Nicola, who’s usually so quick to jump in and help him recover in bloopers or interviews, doesn’t rush to save him here. She just looks at him, grinning in this grand, knowing way, then turns to the audience like, “Y’all see this too?” It’s like she’s letting him feel the moment fully, not interrupting whatever’s surfacing in him, almost reverent in her stillness. That can read as playful, but also profoundly intimate.

The fact that he posted this clip when he could’ve gone with a cleaner, more romantic or comedic blooper could be read in multiple ways. Maybe he just thought it was funny. Or maybe, unconsciously or not, he knew the emotional thread it carried. The "wedding wife" blooper could be seen as a Freudian slip, like his heart jumped ahead of his line.

A Freudian slip often reveals something in the subconscious, a hidden thought, desire, or association slipping out when we least expect it. Calling Nicola his “wedding wife «rather than the character’s scripted “wedded wife” may unconsciously signal how blurred the lines have become between performance and reality. The act of marrying her character might’ve momentarily felt real or symbolic to him on some deeper level. The flustered reaction and avoiding her gaze could be a tell. A person who's just made an emotionally revealing slip might instinctively avoid eye contact with the person it is involved with. It’s very possible Luke was aware of the emotional weight of this scene   for fans, for Nicola, and maybe for himself too. The tension, the attention, and perhaps the private meaning he assigns to the scene could have all collided, throwing him off slightly. His voice cracking and sheepishness suggests more than just an actor messing up a line it feels personal. “Wedding wife” is not a phrase and that’s what’s intriguing. It implies not just a wife, but the wife you marry in a wedding, the imagery itself emphasized. It’s almost as though the weight of the moment of wedding her overtook the formal language of the script. There’s also something poetic in it, as if his mind jumped a step ahead, not just to “wedded wife” but to the symbolic act of having her as a wife.

Why didn’t he look at her? He was possibly: Embarrassed by the slip, knowing others would read into it. Or Unwilling or unready to look her in the eye because it made the moment feel too real. Or maybe overwhelmed by how much emotion was packed into such a light-hearted moment.

And Nicola just smiles? Interesting…she let the moment breathe. That kind of smile, the one she gave him, is sometimes the look you give someone who just gave away more than they intended. She may have recognized the slip for what it was. But instead of reacting, she stayed open, warm, and amused.

So, is it just a blooper?

Sure. But for those who’ve been attuned to Lukola’s unique dynamic, this tiny moment feels like one of those truths disguised as a mistake. A glimpse behind the veil or the “first take,” as he put it.

[meadowfics]

suddenly, you're my valentine

se-mi x f!reader

your bestfriend turned lover gives you a good valentine's day

warnings: friends to lovers. reader has issues with love.

valentine’s day has always been bittersweet for you.

no matter how much you try to ignore it, the ache of loneliness never fails to creep in. everywhere you turn, there are couples holding hands, exchanging gifts, sharing soft kisses.

reminders of the love you’ve always wanted but never truly had.

you’ve never had good luck in love.

every time you let someone in, they leave.

maybe it’s you. maybe you’re just not meant to be loved the way you hope for.

so, when you wake up to a bouquet of deep red roses sitting on your nightstand, your heart stutters. confusion swirls in your chest because no one has ever done something like this for you.

did someone get into your house? there is only one person who has a key to your apartment besides you.

attached to the bouquet is a small envelope, your name written neatly in handwriting you recognize instantly..

semi’s.

your best friend,

the other person who has a key to your apartment.

your lips twitch into a small smile as you open the card.

nside, there’s a note written in semi’s familiar, neat script:

happy valentine’s day, y/n. get ready, i’m picking you up at 7. wear something nice.

your heart races.

semi’s always been sweet to you, but this feels… different. still, you push down the lingering hope that bubbles in your chest, telling yourself that she’s just being the best friend she’s always been.

at exactly seven, semi arrives, a small grin on her lips as she stands at your door with a single red rose in hand.

she looks stunning, dressed in a dark red blouse that complements her effortlessly, her dark hair styled just right.

your breath catches for a second.

“wow,” you murmur, before you can stop yourself.

“you clean up nice.”

semi chuckles, handing you the rose.

“you look beautiful, y/n.”

your face heats up at the compliment, but you shake it off. this is just semi being semi.

nothing more.

she takes you to one of the nicest restaurants in the city, one you’ve always wanted to go to but never had the chance. the candlelit ambiance, the soft music, the way semi’s eyes never leave you.

it all feels so intimate, so much like a date, and yet you don’t let yourself believe it.

“so,” you say, swirling your drink, trying to ignore the way your heart is betraying you.

“what’s all this for? i mean, i know it’s valentine’s day, but this seems like… a lot.”

semi leans forward slightly, her fingers playing with the stem of her wine glass.

“you deserve it.”

you scoff, shaking your head.

“i don’t know about that.”

se-mi's brows furrow, lips pressing into a thin line.

“why do you do that?”

“do what?”

“act like you’re not worthy of good things. of love.”

your stomach twists.

“because I do not feel like I am worthy, semi.”

semi's expression softens, but there’s a certain intensity in her gaze that makes it hard to hold.

“that’s not true.”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you focus on your food, pretending like your heart isn’t hammering in your chest.

the night continues with semi making sure you feel special, treating you with so much tenderness it nearly makes you want to cry.

she pays the bill before you can argue, and when you step outside, the cool night air kissing your skin, she turns to you with a small smile.

“one more surprise,” she says, taking your hand in hers.

you don’t question it.

you never do when it comes to semi.

she drives you to a secluded hilltop, where a blanket is already set up with fairy lights twinkling softly around it. there’s a small box sitting at the center of the blanket.

“semi…” your voice is barely above a whisper, overwhelmed by everything she’s done for you tonight.

she gestures for you to sit, and when you do, she hands you the box. with hesitant hands, you open it, only to find a delicate silver bracelet inside, a small charm hanging from it..

your initial intertwined with hers.

your breath hitches.

“semi… this is… this is beautiful.”

you smile up at her.

"you're such a good best friend, semi."

she watches you carefully, lips parting slightly like she’s holding something back. then, she finally speaks.

“i didn’t do this as your best friend, y/n.”

your fingers tighten around the bracelet. your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

“what… what do you mean?”

semi exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair.

“i did this because i’m in love with you.”

everything stills.

your eyes snap to hers, searching, needing to know if she’s serious.

there’s no hesitation, no doubt in her gaze.

“you’re lying.” the words leave your lips before you can stop them.

“you… you don’t love me like that. i’m not even your type, semi.”

she shakes her head, frustration flickering across her face.

“what does that even mean, y/n? you’ve always been my type. I just...i didn’t know how to tell you without scaring you away.”

your breath shudders as you take in her words, your emotions a tangled mess inside of you.

all this time, you’ve convinced yourself that you weren’t enough. that love wasn’t meant for you.

however, here she is. semi, your best friend, the only person who has ever truly seen you...telling you that she loves you.

before you can think, before doubt can creep in, you surge forward, crashing your lips against hers.

semi freezes for a split second before responding with just as much urgency, her hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer.

the kiss is desperate, filled with all the emotions you’ve buried for so long.

your hands tangle in her hair, and she groans softly into your mouth, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. your plump lips attaching to hers..

it’s intoxicating, the way she tastes, the way she feels against you.

when you finally pull away, breathless, foreheads pressed together, you whisper,

“i love you too, semi. happy valentine’s day.”

she lets out a shaky laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

“best valentine’s day ever.”

masterlist

[flawseer]

Jade Mountain Academy students

#7 - Rainwing chapter

Ah yes, the Rainwings, a.k.a. "the ones where my friends will disown me if I get them wrong". I ended up making some changes here; particularly with Coconut, who is depicted as green in the graphic novels but described as lavender in the books. I tried to do something with elements from both. This had a bit of a knock-on effect on Siamang, because having two purples in the set seemed a bit lame for a group that's supposed to be really vibrant and colorful, so I went a bit off-script there. This is the result; I hope it is palatable.

Also, that makes 36. 36 dragons.

Kinkajou

Tribe - Rainwing

Winglet - Jade

Color - Saffron yellow and pink (resting color)

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Moonwatcher (Nightwing), Carnelian (Skywing)

Favorite subject - "All of them"

Least fav. subject - did not disclose

Physical characteristics - kinked horns; triangular patterns along neck, torso, and tail; venom scars on right wing membrane; small size, slight build

Other characteristics - very energetic; good work ethic; has signed up for every extracurricular activity available (commendable, but maybe monitor, encourage proper rest); currently displays no immediate signs of post-traumatic stress, but continue monitoring on suggestion of Queen Glory (make aware of counseling options)

Tamarin

Tribe - Rainwing

Winglet - Gold

Color - Cobalt blue and yellow (resting color)

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Onyx (Sandwing)

Favorite subject - Anatomy

Least fav. subject - Literacy

Physical characteristics - light, oval-shaped patterns along neck, torso, tail, and limbs; medium to heavy scarring along ventral neck and torso; hatched blind, eyes are a milky blue; smallish size, plump

Other characteristics - good work ethic; inclined towards care of plants; appears capable of navigating premises by herself, has requested not to be offered aid unsolicited; has suggested a class/seminar about medicinal plants

Boto

Tribe - Rainwing

Winglet - Silver

Color - Lime green and light gray (resting color)

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Changbai (Icewing), Thrush (Skywing)

Favorite subject - Homeroom

Least fav. subject - Anatomy

Physical characteristics - splotchy patterns along neck, torso, tail, and limbs; freckles; average size, average build

Other characteristics - appears to have integrated well; average work ethic; no particular issues to report

Coconut

Tribe - Rainwing

Winglet - Copper

Color - Lavender and green (resting color)

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Marsh (Mudwing)

Favorite subject - Cultural Exchange

Least fav. subject - Exercise

Physical characteristics - circular patterns along neck, torso, tail, and limbs; smallish size, plump

Other characteristics - tends to forget about assignments often; falls asleep in class and hallway; appears to have trouble acclimatizing to academy life and school rules (currently in counseling, consider pulling from student body if behavior cannot be improved)

Siamang

Tribe - Rainwing

Winglet - Quartz

Color - Autumn leaves (resting color)

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Arid (Sandwing), Garnet (Skywing)

Favorite subject - Cultural Exchange

Least fav. subject - Science

Physical characteristics - long, bent horns; dark patch on ventral side of neck; semi-circular patterns along neck, torso, tail, and limbs; small horn-like thorns protruding from center of forehead; tall size, slight frame

Other characteristics - mellow, seems to get along with most dragons; interested in locally available fruit; appears to enjoy experimenting with fruit juice to create drinks (encourage, make space available, but also monitor)

[andy-15-07]

Hi! I love your work. Could you maybe do a paul mescal x actress!reader, she is his love interest in gladiator and in the red carpet the announce their engament ( like zendaya in the Golden Globes)?

Golden Promises on the Red Carpet

PAIRING:Paul Mescal x reader

WORD COUNT: 3283 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Paul Mescal Masterlist

You step onto the set of Gladiator 2 with a flutter of anticipation dancing in your stomach. The early morning light filters through the ancient stone walls of the meticulously recreated Roman arena, and despite the chaos of bustling crew and costumed extras, your eyes are immediately drawn to him. Paul stands near the center of the set, his gaze warm and inviting as he practices his lines with a focus that seems to light up the very air around him. Every time your eyes meet, his smile deepens, and the energy between you crackles with something both cinematic and profoundly real.

“Hey,” he calls softly, a teasing lilt in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. You walk over, your costume—a sleek yet battle-ready outfit that hints at your character’s strength and vulnerability—rustling quietly with each step. “Morning, gorgeous,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh at how his tone makes even the simplest greeting feel like a cherished secret.

“Morning, Paul,” you reply, a playful spark in your eyes. “I hope you’ve been rehearsing those epic monologues all night. I can’t wait to see you in action.”

Paul’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “You know me—I wouldn’t dare steal the spotlight from our leading lady.” His remark is both a compliment and a challenge, and you raise an eyebrow in amusement.

The day unfolds in a blur of rehearsals and shared moments. Between takes, you find yourselves lingering in quiet corners of the set, talking in whispers that only the ancient walls can keep secret. In one such moment, while you’re both huddled in a shadowed alcove, he leans in and says, “I was thinking… beyond the script and the scenes, there’s a story that’s even more important than any we could ever perform.”

You smile, your voice soft and curious. “And what story is that?”

His gaze holds yours with an intensity that makes the world around you fade into a comforting blur. “The story of us,” he murmurs. “Of every laugh, every line, every moment that brought us here. I never imagined that when I signed on for this film, I’d end up finding someone who could make my heart feel like it’s starring in its own epic saga.”

The sincerity in his words sends a thrill through you. “I feel the same way, Paul,” you reply, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. “Every day on this set, every shared glance between takes… it’s like we’re living in a story written just for us.”

There’s a pause as he searches your eyes, as if trying to read the truth hidden there. “You know,” he begins, a shy smile tugging at his lips, “when we’re not in front of the cameras, I dream about a day when the world gets to see us together—not just as co-stars but as something more.”

Your heart races at the implication, and you lean in, your tone playful yet earnest. “And when would that be? After we’ve vanquished our foes in the arena?”

He chuckles, and the sound is as warm as the morning sun. “Maybe sooner than that. I want everyone to know that behind these costumes and scripted lines is a love story that’s as real as it gets.”

In the midst of the creative chaos that is film production, your burgeoning relationship with Paul feels like a secret world built just for the two of you. The camaraderie among the cast and crew is palpable, and while everyone talks excitedly about dramatic battles and stirring soliloquies, you and Paul have your own whispered dialogues—exchanges of glances and half-sentences that hint at promises for the future.

One afternoon, while the director calls for a break and the set quiets to a gentle hum, you find yourself alone with Paul in a quiet corner of the studio. The space is dimly lit by the soft glow of overhead lights, and the air carries the mingled scents of aged stone and fresh paint. Paul turns to you with a look that’s both vulnerable and hopeful.

“Do you ever think about what happens when the cameras stop rolling?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You consider his question, your fingers idly playing with the hem of your costume. “I think about a lot of things—quiet mornings, long conversations, late-night laughter. I imagine a life where every moment isn’t dictated by a script, but by our own hearts.”

His eyes soften, and he steps closer, closing the distance between you. “I’ve been imagining that too,” he confesses. “I can’t help but wonder what it would be like… to share everything with you. To write our own story, not just on set, but in every moment we’re given.”

The intensity of his gaze makes you feel as if time itself has paused, letting you savor every word. “I want that too, Paul,” you reply, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions. “I want our story to be as bold and beautiful as the characters we play, but even more real.”

Days melt into nights as filming continues, and with every passing moment, your bond grows stronger. Between scenes, you steal away for private conversations in hidden corners of the studio, sharing secrets, dreams, and gentle laughter. There’s a particular magic in those moments—the way your fingers occasionally brush, the glances that linger too long to be mere coincidence, and the promise of something extraordinary building quietly beneath the surface.

Then, as the production nears its climax, whispers of a major upcoming event begin to circulate. A red carpet gala is planned to honor the film’s debut—a glamorous night where stars shine not just for the cameras, but for the world to see. The air buzzes with anticipation, and soon you find yourself swept up in the excitement of preparations and interviews, all while your heart keeps a secret close: the thought of what the night might bring.

The gala is set at an opulent venue, draped in gold and velvet, with the echo of music and laughter spilling out onto the bustling red carpet. As you step outside, your hand finds Paul’s, and for a moment, everything feels surreal—the flashes of cameras, the murmur of excited voices, and the glittering lights of paparazzi lenses capturing every detail.

Dressed in an elegant gown that sparkles like starlight and paired with a confidence that belies the nerves fluttering in your chest, you walk alongside Paul. He looks effortlessly handsome in a tailored suit that complements the fire in his eyes, and as you approach the entrance, the world seems to slow, focusing solely on the two of you.

A reporter, microphone in hand, catches sight of your radiant smiles and asks, “You two look absolutely stunning tonight. Is there anything special you’d like to share with your fans?” His tone is curious, and you can feel the weight of the moment settling in, as if this question were more than a casual inquiry.

Paul squeezes your hand reassuringly, his gaze meeting yours with a secret understanding. “Actually, there is something we’d love to announce,” he says, his voice clear and confident amid the hum of the crowd.

The reporter’s eyes widen in anticipation. “Oh? Do tell!”

Before you can speak, Paul turns to face the cameras, his voice carrying across the red carpet. “Tonight,” he begins, a proud smile brightening his face, “I’m thrilled to share that I’m not just here to celebrate Gladiator 2, but to celebrate love—our love. And it’s with the deepest joy that I announce our engagement.”

A hush falls over the gathered press, the buzz of excitement palpable as the statement hangs in the air like a promise. The cameras flash, capturing every emotion, every glimmer of happiness on both your faces. For a heartbeat, it feels as though the world has paused, united in the magic of the moment.

You step forward, your voice steady and filled with emotion as you add, “We’ve spent the last months not only bringing history to life on screen but also discovering a love that feels timeless and extraordinary. Tonight, on this red carpet, we share with you not just a moment of glamour, but a promise for a future filled with endless possibilities.”

The applause from the gathered crowd is thunderous, and amidst the flashes of cameras and the excited murmurs of the press, Paul’s eyes never leave yours. “This is just the beginning,” he says softly, almost as if you’re the only one in the world who can hear him. “Our love story is our greatest adventure, and I can’t wait to write every chapter with you.”

The remaining hours of the evening blur into a whirlwind of congratulations, interviews, and candid moments shared with friends and fellow stars. Throughout it all, you and Paul remain side by side, a beacon of unity and genuine affection amid the glamour and spectacle of Hollywood’s most dazzling night.

Later, as the gala winds down and the red carpet lights dim, you find yourselves alone on a quiet balcony overlooking the city. The distant hum of traffic and the soft murmur of celebration provide the perfect backdrop for a conversation that feels both intimate and infinite.

Paul turns to you, his expression reflective in the gentle glow of the city lights. “Do you remember that day on set when we talked about living a life that isn’t dictated by a script?” he asks softly. “I still can’t believe how far we’ve come—from whispered promises in the shadows to declaring our love in front of the world.”

You lean into him, your voice tender. “I remember every word, every moment. It feels like we were always meant to find each other, even in a world filled with chaos and noise.”

He laughs lightly, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “It’s like we were writing our own epic, one scene at a time. And tonight, we took one of the most important scenes—a scene that marks the beginning of our forever.”

The night air is cool and comforting, and you both stand in silence for a moment, savoring the gravity of the journey that has led you here. “Do you ever wonder,” you say after a pause, “what our future holds beyond the glitz and glamour? What kind of story we’ll continue to write together?”

Paul’s eyes search yours, and for a moment, the world outside seems to fade. “Every day,” he confesses. “I imagine mornings filled with lazy laughter, afternoons where we create memories out of the simplest moments, and nights where every whispered ‘I love you’ feels as profound as it did on that very first day we met on set. I see a future where every day is an adventure—a blend of passion, creativity, and love.”

Your heart swells with the promise of his words, and you press closer to him. “I want that future, Paul. I want a life where every moment is as genuine and beautiful as what we felt tonight.”

He smiles, a mixture of joy and relief lighting up his features. “Then let’s never let go of this feeling, of this commitment. Let’s promise to write every chapter together, no matter how unpredictable the script of life may be.”

The intimacy of the moment makes the sprawling city below feel like a secret world meant just for you. As you both stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, it’s as if the very stars have aligned to celebrate the love you’ve nurtured on set and beyond.

In the days that follow, the news of your engagement creates ripples of joy and admiration in every interview, every headline. On set, the cast and crew share knowing smiles, and even the director, who once saw your relationship as a quiet undercurrent, now boasts about it as the heart of the film’s off-screen story. During a break between filming intense battle scenes, Paul whispers to you, “I’ve never seen anyone light up the set the way you do. You’re my muse—in every sense of the word.”

You laugh softly, the sound mingling with the distant clang of swords and the rustling of period costumes. “And you,” you reply, “make every line, every scene, feel like a promise of something extraordinary.”

Even amidst the demanding schedule of shooting elaborate fight sequences and stirring dialogues, you find moments of pure, unfiltered connection. Over late-night dinners in the quiet of the studio’s makeshift dining room, you talk about everything from your favorite childhood memories to your wildest dreams for the future. One night, as the stars peek through the studio’s skylight, Paul says, “I know we’re in the middle of creating history on screen, but the history I want to create is the one we share off screen—one filled with love, laughter, and endless adventures.”

Your eyes meet his, and you feel an overwhelming surge of gratitude. “Every day with you feels like an adventure,” you admit, your voice hushed in the intimacy of the moment. “I never imagined that stepping onto a film set would lead me to the love of my life.”

Paul’s smile is both gentle and resolute. “And I never imagined that behind every powerful monologue and every stirring scene, there’d be a quiet love story unfolding—a story that’s real, raw, and more beautiful than any script could ever capture.”

As filming wraps up and the last of the scenes are shot, you both take a quiet moment to reflect on the journey. Walking hand in hand along the now-empty set, you recall the early days of whispered promises and shared glances. “It all feels like a dream,” you say softly. “A dream that I never want to wake from.”

Paul stops and turns to you, his expression earnest. “Then let’s promise to keep dreaming together,” he says, his voice filled with the conviction of someone who knows exactly what they want. “Let’s promise to never let go of the magic we found on that set, on that red carpet, in every single moment we’ve shared.”

The weight of his words settles around you like a warm embrace, and you know that the love you’ve nurtured is something that transcends the fleeting nature of fame or the glitter of the red carpet. It’s a love rooted in shared experiences, in every laugh and every quiet tear shed in the glow of early mornings and late nights.

In the weeks that follow, as the media buzzes with stories of your engagement and the film garners accolades, you and Paul continue to find solace in each other’s arms. There’s a quiet joy in the way you both navigate the whirlwind of public attention while holding on to the intimate moments that define your relationship. During an interview on a popular late-night show, the host remarks, “You two seem to have a love that could rival any epic tale. What’s your secret?”

Paul looks at you, his eyes filled with tender amusement, and replies, “Our secret is simple. It’s that we never let go of what matters most—our hearts, our dreams, and each other.” The audience erupts in applause, and you share a knowing smile that speaks volumes about the truth behind those words.

Even in the midst of glamorous premieres and dazzling public appearances, you carve out moments just for the two of you. One particularly memorable afternoon, while the world outside buzzes with excitement over your next public appearance, you and Paul retreat to a quiet corner of a charming café. Over cups of rich, aromatic coffee, you talk about everything from the mundane to the monumental.

“I keep thinking about that night on the red carpet,” you say, stirring your coffee thoughtfully. “The way the world paused as we announced our engagement—it was like the universe was giving us its blessing.”

Paul’s eyes shine with recollection as he nods. “It was surreal. I’ve always believed that the most important moments in our lives are the ones that happen when we least expect them—when we’re just being ourselves, and the world sees that raw, unfiltered truth.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you like a soft blanket. “I never imagined that behind the dazzling lights and the flashing cameras, there could be something so genuine, so heartfelt. It makes all of this—every glamorous moment—feel even more special.”

Paul reaches across the table and takes your hand, his touch gentle yet firm. “Because what we have isn’t just about fame or success. It’s about a love that’s real, a connection that goes deeper than any script or red carpet announcement. It’s our story, and it’s ours alone.”

The conversation drifts into comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft clink of cups and the distant hum of the city. In that quiet moment, you realize that every dialogue, every whispered promise, and every shared laugh has been a stepping stone toward this very instant—a moment when the world outside might be chaotic and unpredictable, but within your little universe, everything is exactly as it should be.

Later that evening, as the glow of twilight gives way to the shimmering night, you and Paul return to your private sanctuary—a cozy apartment tucked away from the relentless buzz of Hollywood. The day’s excitement still lingers in the air, but here, in the quiet intimacy of your home, you’re free to be exactly who you are. You curl up on the couch together, the soft hum of a favorite song playing in the background, and for a few precious moments, the world outside ceases to exist.

“Do you ever think about how lucky we are?” you ask, your voice soft and reflective as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Paul’s smile is slow and thoughtful. “Every single day. I think about the moments we’ve shared—the nervous excitement on set, the rush of that red carpet announcement—and I realize that none of it would mean anything without you by my side.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling the steady warmth of his love. “I never thought that stepping into a film set would lead me to a life like this. You’ve changed everything for me, Paul.”

He leans in and kisses you gently, a kiss that speaks of promises kept and dreams yet to come. “And you, my love, have given me a story that’s more epic than any film we could ever make. Tonight, and every night, I’m grateful for you.”

In that quiet embrace, the truth of your journey unfolds—a journey of passion, creativity, and an unwavering commitment to a love that transcends the ordinary. The red carpet moment, the whispered dialogues on set, the stolen glances between takes—all of it has been building toward a future where every day is a celebration of the extraordinary bond you share.

As the night deepens and you both drift into a peaceful sleep, you know that the story you’re writing together is only just beginning. It’s a story of adventure, of risk and reward, of laughter and quiet moments of reflection. It’s a story that will continue to unfold long after the cameras stop rolling and the red carpet lights fade away—a story that is as timeless as the love you’ve discovered, as brilliant as the promises made on that unforgettable night.

And so, with the soft whispers of dreams mingling with the echo of your heartbeat, you rest, knowing that every new day will bring with it the promise of another beautiful chapter in the epic tale of you and Paul—a tale that the world may one day call legendary, yet for you, is simply the honest, unfiltered truth of a love that was meant to be.

[jackethockey]

No shame

Summary: You are a sports reporter for the NHL when one day you have to report for the New Jersey Devils. You get told you would be interviewing the star of the show, Jack Hughes. You decide to go to a bar after the game where Jack and some of the team also go. While there, you notice Jack came up to you to ask your opinions on the game. You can't help but find the two of you wrapped up in a conversation about hockey. He offers one day to go out for dinner to talk more about hockey. When the night grows on, he invites you back to his place to keep it going. Once there he can't help but just stare at you with lust in his eyes. This leads to a night you will never forget.

Warnings: smut, sex, cursing, begging

Word count: 3241

“Got no shame, I love the way you're screaming my name.”

The atmosphere in the Prudential Center buzzed with excitement as the New Jersey Devils took the ice for their warm-ups, the smooth strokes of their skates carving circles on the gleaming surface. As a dedicated sports reporter for the NHL, you had been handed the enviable task of conducting an interview with the young superstar, Jack Hughes. Your heart raced as you put on your headset and took your position rink side. The lights grew brighter, and the music grew louder, setting the stage for your encounter.

Jack glided over effortlessly, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours as he leaned in for the microphone. The electricity between you both was palpable, even through the protective barrier of his helmet. You exchanged pleasantries before diving into the meat of the interview, discussing strategy, team dynamics, and his personal aspirations for the season. His voice was confident, yet had a hint of charm that was impossible to ignore.

As you wrapped up, Jack gave you a smile that seemed to light up the entire arena. And then, with a playful wink, he pushed off and returned to his teammates. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. The interview had gone better than expected, but it was his casual, yet knowing, gesture that lingered in your mind.

After the exhilarating game ended in a victory for the Devils, you decided to unwind at a nearby sports bar. The place was packed with fans, still basking in the glow of the win. To your surprise, Jack Hughes and some of his teammates sailed through the door, the sound of their laughter and camaraderie piercing the din. You kept your distance, not wanting to intrude on their celebrations. But fate had other plans.

Jack spotted you from across the room, and with a beer in hand, he navigated through the throng of bodies. He approached with the same confidence he had on the ice, and suddenly, he was standing right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours.

"Hey," he said, his voice a warm contrast to the chilly evening outside. "Great game tonight. What'd you think?"

The question caught you off guard. Here was this NHL phenom, asking for your opinion on the very game he had just dominated. You took a sip of your drink, trying to compose yourself, and shared your thoughts on the team's performance. His genuine interest in your analysis was disarming. You talked for what felt like hours, the conversation flowing as naturally as a perfectly executed breakaway. It was clear that Jack Hughes was not just a star on the ice; he had a charm that extended far beyond the boards.

The evening grew late, and the bar began to empty. As you said your goodbyes, Jack handed you his phone number with a wink, hinting at the possibility of a future off-the-ice rendezvous. With a racing pulse and a grin that wouldn't quit, you walked home through the quiet Newark streets, the echoes of the game and Jack's inviting smile playing on repeat in your mind. Little did you know, this chance encounter was about to rewrite the script of your life.

Days turned into weeks, and the memory of that night at the bar grew stronger with each passing day. You couldn't shake the feeling that Jack's wink and the way he had looked at you during the interview meant something more than just a friendly gesture. As you continued to cover the Devils' games, you found yourself eagerly waiting for any glimpse of him, hoping for a repeat of that electric connection. And then, one evening, as you sat in the press box, you received a text message that made your heart skip a beat:

"Hey, it's Jack. How about that dinner we talked about?"

The anticipation grew as you picked out the perfect outfit and rehearsed conversation topics in your mind. The night of the date finally arrived, and you met him at a cozy Italian restaurant, his eyes lighting up when he saw you walk in. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and the conversation flowed as freely as the wine. He talked about his love for the game, his family back in Michigan, and his hopes for the future. You shared stories from your life as a sports reporter, the thrill of live events, and the people you've met along the way.

As the evening progressed, you realized that Jack was not only a phenomenal athlete but also a thoughtful and kind-hearted person, with a maturity that belied his years. The air was thick with the scent of garlic bread and the promise of something more. With each laugh and shared glance, the walls between interviewer and interviewee began to crumble, revealing the possibility of a relationship that could be as thrilling and unpredictable as a sudden-death overtime.

As you were talking, Jack offered you to go back to his apartment to keep the conversation going. You kindly accept and head off. Jack's apartment was modern and spacious, a reflection of his successful career. You followed him in, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. He led you to a comfortable living room, where a large, plush couch beckoned. As you settled in, removing your coat, the conversation between you flowed as naturally as it had at the bar. However, as the fabric of your coat slipped away, revealing the dress you had meticulously chosen for the evening, Jack's gaze lingered. He swallowed hard, and his eyes remained fixed on you, a silent appreciation of your beauty that made you blush.

You looked up, catching him mid-stare, and asked, "Is everything okay?"

Jack took a deep breath, breaking his trance. "You look... amazing," he said, his voice thick with genuine admiration. "I mean, you know, on the ice, you're all professional and focused, but here, off the clock, you're just... wow."

You couldn't help but laugh at his candidness. "Thank you," you said, feeling the warmth of his compliment. "But, what about the game? Did you think the team played well tonight?"

Jack nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, they played great," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The energy in the room shifted, the tension could be cut with a knife. He took a step closer, and you realized that the conversation had evolved into something much more personal.

Without another word, Jack offered his hand, and you took it, allowing him to lead you to the couch. As you sat down, the proximity between you was undeniable. You could feel the heat of his hand in yours, and the thump of his heart seemed to match the rhythm of your own. The air was charged with potential, and you found yourself leaning in, eager to hear more about his life outside the rink.

As the conversation grew deeper, you felt the weight of the evening's events pressing down on you. The attraction was undeniable, and it was clear that Jack felt it too. With every shared smile and every brush of your fingers against his, the pull grew stronger. Yet, you remained professional, keeping the conversation focused on the game and the season ahead.

As the conversation grew more intimate, you found yourselves sitting closer than ever before. Jack's hand reached over and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek for a moment too long. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a jolt through your entire body. His eyes searched yours, looking for permission, and you realized that the line between professional and personal had grown blurrier than ever before. You leaned in, and Jack met you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a moment that seemed to defy the very fabric of time, leaving you both breathless. When you pulled back, the world around you had changed. You knew that the dynamics of your relationship had shifted, and there was no turning back. 

The attraction you had both felt from the start had just been given the green light, and the excitement was intoxicating. But with great power comes great responsibility, and you both understood the delicate balance you'd have to maintain between your budding romance and the demands of your respective careers. You sat back, a little dizzy from the rush of emotions, and took a deep breath. "Jack," you whispered, your voice trembling with excitement, "This...this isn't going to affect our work, is it?"

Jack's eyes searched yours, a mix of passion and understanding swirling within. "No," he promised, "it won't. But it's going to make every game a little more interesting, don't you think?" His smile was infectious, and you couldn't help but return it. This was the start of something special, something you had never seen coming. But as you sat there, hand in hand, watching the flickering shadows from the street lamps play across the walls of his apartment, you knew that you were ready to face whatever challenges might come your way, both on and off the ice.

Jack's eyes searched yours with a fierce intensity, his thumb still gently caressing your cheek. He took a deep breath before speaking. "You know, I've always been taught to treat women with the utmost respect," he began, his voice low and earnest. "But right now, all I can think about is how badly I want to rip that dress off you and take you right here." His words were raw and unfiltered, a stark contrast to the respectful demeanor he had maintained throughout the evening. The hunger in his voice was unmistakable, and it sent a thrill through you.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as his hand slid down to grip your waist. His grip was firm but gentle, a silent promise of the passion he was holding back. You knew that this moment was pivotal, that the line between professional and personal had been crossed, and there was no going back. But as you looked into his eyes, all you saw was honesty and desire. You wanted him just as badly.

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you whispered, "Jack, I feel the same way." Your heart was racing, but your voice was steady. You knew the risks of mixing business with pleasure, but the pull was too strong to resist. With a nod of understanding, Jack leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that was as overwhelming as it was exhilarating.

The air grew thick with lust as you both succumbed to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. Clothes began to fall away, revealing the athletic physiques that had been hidden beneath layers of fabric. The sound of zippers and fabric hitting the floor was a symphony to your ears, each note bringing you closer to the moment you had both been craving.

Jack's hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. You gasped into his mouth as he lifted you onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist. The feel of his bare skin against yours was electrifying, sending sparks through every nerve ending. His kisses grew more urgent, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he was trying to claim you as his own.

You broke away for a moment, panting and breathless. "Jack," you murmured, your eyes locked on his, "I want this. But we need to be careful."

Jack's eyes searched yours, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. He nodded, his voice a gruff whisper. "I know," he said, "but right now, I just can't get enough of you."

And with that, you gave in to the passion that had been building between you, allowing Jack to guide you to a place of unbridled pleasure, where the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his body against yours. The world outside the apartment ceased to exist as you both became lost in the heat of the moment, the line between reporter and player, fan and athlete, forever blurred by the intensity of your shared desire.

With a fiery need that had taken over both of you, Jack positioned you so that you were straddling his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist. You could feel the unmistakable pressure of his hard, throbbing cock through the fabric of his pants, and it only served to heighten your own arousal. The wetness between your legs was a testament to the desire that had been simmering since the moment you had first met. The anticipation was exquisite torture, and all you wanted was to feel him inside you, to claim him as much as he was claiming you. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you closer, as if he could somehow absorb the heat of your want through the barrier of your clothes. Your breathing grew ragged, and you found yourself rocking slightly against him, desperate to relieve the ache that had taken up residence in your core. 

The feeling of his length pressed against you was maddening, and you knew that you wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. The connection between you was more than just physical; it was a magnetic force that neither of you could resist. With a low growl of need, Jack stood up, lifting you with him, and carried you to the bedroom, where you both knew the night was about to reach a crescendo that would change everything.

The bedroom was dimly lit by the glow of the city outside, casting a soft light across the room. Jack laid you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he peeled away the layers of your clothing. The anticipation was almost too much to bear as he revealed your naked body to him, his gaze filled with awe and hunger. You felt exposed, but also incredibly powerful, knowing that this man, this hockey god, wanted you just as much as you wanted him. His own clothes followed, revealing his muscular chest and the V-cut abs that had made your knees weak during your first interview.

As he climbed over you, the heat of his body enveloped you like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. His cock, now free from the constraints of his pants, stood tall and proud, a testament to his arousal. You reached down to stroke him, feeling the velvety skin and the pulsing vein beneath. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, and he let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine. 

Jack's eyes burned with desire as he positioned himself at your entrance. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the moment before he pushed himself into you, his thick, hard cock filling you up inch by inch. You couldn't help but moan out in pleasure, the feeling of him inside you was more than you could handle. He took his time, savoring every moment, his movements deliberate and precise. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your moans echoing through the room. He began to move with more urgency, his hips thrusting into you with a steady rhythm that had you gripping the bedsheets.

Jack was vocal, his grunts and groans of pleasure fueling the fire between you. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he murmured against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His words only served to make you wetter, and you found yourself screaming his name, the sound of it leaving your lips over and over again. The more you screamed, the more he loved it, his thrusts growing harder and faster, each one aimed at pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Just as you felt the first tremors of an orgasm building within you, Jack abruptly stopped, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Not yet," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. He loved the sound of your desperation, the way you begged for him to keep going. It was a power play, one that had you squirming beneath him, your body begging for release. "Beg for it," he ordered, his eyes dark with lust. And so you did, whispering pleas into his ear, begging him to give you what you needed. The anticipation was unbearable, the ache in your core demanding relief.

Finally, Jack relented, his hips moving once more with a renewed fervor. His thrusts were now punishing, each one pushing you closer to the brink. "Jack, please," you begged, your voice hoarse from the screams of pleasure. And with that, he gave in, his movements becoming more intense, his grip on your hips tightening. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, a testament to the passion that had taken over.

You felt yourself teetering on the edge, the pressure building until it was almost too much to handle. And just as you were about to shatter, Jack's eyes locked onto yours, his own climax approaching. "Cum for me," he growled, and with those words, you let go, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. The sight of your release was all it took for him to follow, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he reached his peak, groaning your name in victory.

As the intensity of the moment began to subside, you both lay there, panting and sweaty, the aftershocks of your passion still rippling through your bodies. You couldn't believe what had just happened, but as you looked into Jack's eyes, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in both of your lives. The connection between you had been undeniable from the start, and now it had taken on a whole new dimension, one that was as raw and real as it was unprofessional.

But in that moment, you didn't care about the consequences; all that mattered was the feeling of Jack's arms around you, the sound of his heart beating in sync with yours, and the promise of a future filled with passion and excitement that could only come from mixing love with the fast-paced world of professional hockey.

[definitelynotshouting]

For the WIP game, would love to know what’s up with the angst for Calo <3

HELLO KAYA MY BELOVED FRIEND!!!!! i will GLADLY tell u abt the angst i cooked up for Calo >:]

Okay in reality this is a bit more hurt/comfort than just straight up angst, i just think its way funnier to call it that. Anyway, Calo gave me a little preview of this beautiful artwork before it got posted, and it gave me instant brainrot bc secret life perpetually does insane cocomelon shit to my head whenever i think abt it. I think i have 2 fics centered around it already and by gods with this one im gunning for a third.

The basic idea is just playing off of the dialogue already in the art, BUT!!! One of my favorite things in the world is when characters in disguise reveal things about themselves that they never would if they werent wearing some sort of mask. When Calo told me that Scar knew who Grian was but was pretending not to, i saw the world's best opportunity to do a little character prodding❤️🥰

85% of this fic is in script format, since i didnt want to lose the dialogue as it came to me-- but i do plan to write things out properly and post it, once i get the brain blast for it (so if youve been wondering why i havent reblogged it yet..... YEAH THATS WHY SKDNWKDJSK)

I dont wanna give too much away, but heres one of my favorite exchanges ive written in the dialogue:

[Silence as they pick their way over to TRADER SCAR’S] GRIAN: [abruptly] Do you like it here? SCAR: Sor— repeat that? GRIAN: Do you like it here. [Looking steadily at TRADER SCAR’S] You seem… happy. SCAR: … Well, there’s a word for it. [Slowly, testing the waters] I like building. I like the canvas, I suppose. [Carefully] What about you? GRIAN: [startled] Me? SCAR: Yes, you! I mean, surely you’ve got better things to do than hang about here, right? [A playful nudge] Any canvases of your own? GRIAN: … No. Nothing like that. SCAR: [blink blonk] You aren’t a winner? GRIAN: A what? SCAR: Why, a winner, of course! That’s what this place is for, isn’t it? For— [faltering] for winners? GRIAN: You call this a win? SCAR: It’s certainly not a loss.

Theres lots of little implications that arent explicitly on-script rn that i want to write in properly later, but the atmosphere around this conversation makes me WILD whenever i think abt it💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 pov the guy you love openly admits he does not see what happened in 3rd life as a win despite literally being here with the other winners. Pov the guy you love holds a grief so tight heay as well be pressurizing it into a diamond around his heart. IDK IT JUST DOES CRAZY SHIT TO ME WHEN GRIAN ROUNDABOUT ADMITS TO HIS GUILT AND HOW 3RD LIFE BROKE HIM!!!! GET FOREVER CHANGED BOY!!!! I AM GOING TO PEEL YOU LIKE A FREEKING LEMON!!!!!!!💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

[yassbishimvintage]

Center Stage

Shoutout to @fairylighttale for the idea

The dim glow of the marquee outside the Old Vic Theatre cast long shadows on the rain-slicked streets of London. Inside, the warm hum of conversation mixed with the rustle of programs as patrons settled into their seats. Among them sat Ariel, her heart pounding with excitement. She wasn’t here just for the love of theatre—though that was her world as a secondary school drama teacher—but for the man headlining tonight’s play: Othello, starring Aaron Pierre.

Ariel had been following Aaron’s career for years, drawn not just to his magnetic performances but to the quiet strength he radiated off-screen. Tonight was different, though. Tonight, she’d treated herself to front-row seats, a decision fueled by a recent surge of courage inspired by her own dreams—to write for film one day. She figured if she was going to chase bold aspirations, she might as well start by sitting boldly, too.

The lights dimmed, and as Aaron stepped onto the stage, Ariel felt the world narrow to just his voice—a rich, resonant baritone that seemed to echo in her chest. His presence was undeniable, commanding yet vulnerable, a masterclass in layered emotion. She found herself leaning forward, utterly captivated.

When the curtain fell to thunderous applause, Ariel remained seated for a moment, letting the performance linger. Gathering her things, she made her way outside, the crisp night air greeting her like an old friend. She didn’t expect to see him—not really—but fate had other plans.

Aaron emerged from the stage door, dressed casually in a dark coat, his beanie pulled low. He was mid-conversation with someone from the crew when his gaze flicked to Ariel. Something about her—perhaps the way she stood, clutching her program like it was a treasure, or the spark of admiration in her eyes—made him pause.

“Did you enjoy the show?” he asked, his voice even more disarming up close.

Ariel blinked, caught off guard but determined not to squander the moment. “It was brilliant. The way you navigated Othello’s descent… it was like watching someone drown in plain sight.”

Aaron chuckled softly, clearly appreciating the insight. “That’s exactly what it felt like to play him.” He shifted slightly, as if making space for her in his orbit. “I’m Aaron.”

“Ariel,” she replied, her name sounding different somehow, wrapped in his accent.

They talked for a while, the conversation flowing effortlessly from Shakespeare to storytelling. When Ariel mentioned she was a drama teacher with dreams of writing for film, Aaron’s interest piqued.

“That’s not a small dream,” he said. “But the best ones rarely are.”

Before they parted, he handed her a slip of paper with an email scribbled on it. “If you ever want to talk scripts—or theatre—I’d love to hear more.”

-

Weeks turned into months. Their emails evolved from polite exchanges to deep discussions about character arcs, narrative structure, and the emotional truths hidden within stories. Aaron found Ariel’s perspective refreshing—raw and unapologetically honest. She didn’t speak from a place of industry jargon but from the heart, and it showed in the script she eventually sent him.

It was called Center Stage, a poignant tale about an overlooked theatre teacher finding her voice through writing. The story was layered, much like Ariel herself, filled with humor, heartbreak, and hope. Aaron was captivated—not just by the words but by the woman behind them.

When they finally met again, it was in a small café tucked away from the bustle of London. Ariel felt a familiar flutter as Aaron greeted her with that warm smile. He’d read her script. Twice.

“It’s beautiful,” he said simply, sliding it back across the table, now filled with his notes and suggestions. But more than that, his eyes held something unspoken—a quiet admiration that went beyond the pages.

They spent the afternoon dissecting scenes, laughing over plot twists, and sharing stories from their lives. Ariel found herself opening up about her insecurities, about feeling like she didn’t fit the mold of what people expected from aspiring screenwriters. She’d always been “too much”—too loud, too big, too passionate.

Aaron listened, his expression softening. “The world doesn’t need you to fit into a mold, Ariel. It needs your voice, exactly as it is.”

Those words stayed with her, echoing louder than her doubts.

-

As their friendship deepened, so did the undercurrent of something more. It wasn’t just creative chemistry; it was late-night calls, spontaneous coffee runs, and stolen glances that lingered a beat too long. Aaron admired Ariel’s wit, the way she lit up when talking about her students, and the unapologetic way she claimed space in any room.

One evening, after a particularly emotional rehearsal for a new play, Aaron found himself outside her flat, a bottle of wine in hand and no real plan beyond wanting to see her.

They sat on her tiny balcony, the city sprawling below, sharing stories under the stars. When their hands brushed, neither pulled away.

“You make me feel seen,” Ariel whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of traffic.

Aaron turned to her, his gaze steady. “That’s because you are.”

The kiss was inevitable—soft, hesitant at first, then deepening with the certainty of two people who’d been dancing around the truth for far too long.

-

Center Stage eventually found its way to production, with Aaron as an executive producer. The film wasn’t just a story on screen; it was a testament to their journey—two people from different worlds brought together by a shared love for storytelling.

Ariel often joked that her life had turned into the very script she’d written, except the ending was still unfolding, with every page better than the last.

And Aaron? He’d found more than just a great story. He’d found his muse.

-

The city of London hummed softly below, its lights flickering like distant stars as Ariel stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of Aaron’s apartment. The warmth from the evening’s success still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of aged whiskey and cedarwood that seemed to live in his space. They’d just left the after-party for Center Stage, where her film had been met with enthusiastic applause and heartfelt praise. But the noise, the clinking glasses, the congratulatory smiles—all of it felt distant now.

Here, it was just the two of them.

Aaron moved effortlessly around the open-plan kitchen, his sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms as he poured them both a drink. The soft lighting traced the lines of his face, casting shadows that made him look even more like a portrait—real yet unreal.

Ariel shifted, suddenly hyper-aware of the way her dress hugged her curves, the silky fabric brushing against her skin with every breath. She’d always carried herself with confidence, even on days when doubt whispered in her ear. But with Aaron, it wasn’t just about how she looked; it was about how she felt—seen, desired, not despite who she was but because of it.

“Whiskey okay?” he asked, his voice low, almost intimate in the quiet.

“Perfect,” she replied, her voice steady though her heart raced.

He handed her the glass, their fingers grazing—a brief, electric touch. For a moment, they simply stood there, the city sprawling beneath them, the tension between them thick enough to taste.

Aaron broke the silence first. “You were brilliant tonight.”

Ariel let out a soft laugh, sipping her drink to steady herself. “You’ve said that already.”

“And I’ll keep saying it until it sinks in.”

She turned to face him fully, the warmth in his gaze pulling her in like gravity. “It’s still surreal, you know? Hearing people talk about my work like it matters.”

Aaron stepped closer, his glass forgotten on the countertop. “It does matter. Because you matter.”

The words settled over her like a soft blanket, comforting yet thrilling. She could feel the shift—the unspoken acknowledgment of what had been simmering between them for months.

Without thinking, or maybe thinking too much, she closed the space between them. Their lips met with a tentative softness, like the first line of a poem spoken aloud. But the hesitation quickly dissolved, replaced by something deeper, hungrier. His hands found her waist, anchoring her, while hers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

The kiss was slow, deliberate—a conversation in itself, filled with all the words they hadn’t dared to say. When they finally parted, both breathless, Aaron rested his forehead against hers.

“I’ve been waiting to do that,” he confessed, his voice a husky whisper.

Ariel smiled, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Me too.”

They found their way to the couch, the city lights casting soft patterns across their intertwined bodies. There was no rush, no need to fill the silence with words. They simply existed together, exploring the quiet intimacy that comes from being truly seen.

Later, as she lay with her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, Ariel realized something. This wasn’t the end of their story—it was just another chapter. And for once, she didn’t feel like she needed to write the ending.

She was living it.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @pocketsizedpanther @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout @melaninpov @todorokishoe24 @chaoticcoffeequeen @gopaperless @jenlovey

[gloomlet]

Gloomlet’s TS4 Script, Gameplay & Replacement Mods

So I decided to compile a list of all the script/gameplay mods that i use or have used in my game. This was mainly made for my personal use, but i am sure it could be helpful to other people too!

Fully Updated - 1/22/2025

Basic & Recommended!

TS4 Mod Manager ui cheats extension mc command center Carl's Sims 4 Gameplay Overhaul Relationship & Pregnancy Overhaul Wonderful Whims The Mood Pack Mod First Impressions Contextual Social Interactions Simulation Lag Fix Teleport Any Sim Better Exceptions

CAS Mods

Stand still in CAS More Traits in CAS Tidy details in CAS More CAS columns Lifetime Aspirations Child Aspirations Set Housewife - Aspiration Unlimited Likes + Dislikes Preferences Plus Homebody - Preferences 100+ CAS Traits Resized Facial Piercings More Teeth!

Replacements & Retextures

Fan Art Maps Map Replacements Overhaul Clean UI Sims 1 & 2 Font LIS Fonts Fluffy Clouds (Ghibli Clouds) Feet replacement Hand replacement Bra + Panty Replacement better babies Baby bottle replacement Default Cutlery! Cute Kitchenware Replacement Boxing Gloves Aquarium Fish Recolor paint it up mod A brighter mop Selfie Override Phone call animations Extended Phone Calls

Objects Phone Replacement Another phone replacement Phone wallpaper & icons Smaller dollhouses Switch Controller + console Game controller PS1 console pc game override Remote control sponge & spray override Another Sponge & Spray override

Electric Toothbrush Razor Bassinet override infant rug +  infant tub child drawing replacement more drawing replacements weather controller Cats & Dogs Fireplace Headphone/earbud override Old-fashioned Suitcase The slightly nicer Tree House Fireplace Lil Campers Light

Replaced + more Interactions Bed Cuddles Better Woohoo Reactions Realistic Reactions Brush Teeth From Toothbrush Holders Wake-up animation Greetings Offer Rose override

Visuals & effects No overhead effects No zzz No object highlight no plumbob please Smaller Mosaic Minimalist CC Icon More Holiday icons

Gameplay!

Playable Pets Slower infant needs Expanded Mermaids Who's Knocking More Visitors No Bad Microwave Buffs Memory Panel Smarter Pie Menu: Searchable Smart Sim Randomizer Play Chess on any computer Strangerville Story toggle

Careers & Jobs Career Overhaul New Careers Simdeed Recruitment Services Flex Part-Time Recruitment Agency Game Developer Career Ultimate Nursing Career Modeling Career Tumbling Tots Daycare Career Shear Brilliance - Cosmetology Seasonal Odd Jobs - Autumn Odd Job Overhaul Modeling and Makeup Odd Jobs Babysitting Gigs Freelance Chef

Education Uni Tweaks Education Overhaul Uni Application Overhaul University costs more Choose Your Roommate Long Distance Learning No Uni Housing Restrictions Uni Aspirations School Lunch Override Longer or Shorter Degree Requirements

Cooking + Food Food Retexture Pack 1, Pack 2, Pack 3 Breakfast Retextures Dinner Food Retextures Pizza Retexture Grannies Cookbook Oni’s Recipe Pack + more recipes Chef Buffet S’more Options Srsly's Complete Cooking Overhaul Dine Out Reloaded Delivery Services Sims Eat and Drink Faster Porto Luminoso Market Cutouts Buyable Cakes Functional Mixer HCH Mixer & Cookbook Functional Air fryer Functional Blender Functional Cookie jar Another Cookie Jar Functional Toaster Functional Cake Stand Functional Rice cooker Functional Pressure Cooker Boba Tea Add-ons Functional Beer Functional Frozen Ice Cart

Pregnancy Realistic Pregnancy Cherished Moments - Pregnancy Science Baby Tweak

Services & Apps Sim National Bank “SimDa” Dating App Exchange Store

Interactions Meaningful Stories Cute Romance Drama Mod Autonomous Go Steady and Propose Autonomous Break Up and Divorce Dynamic Teen Life Parent-Child Relationships Let's Get Fit Modpack Sumba Fitness

Functional Items Playful Toddler Pack Toddler Play Telephone Little Chef’s Toy Kitchen Void Critter Tablet Functional Pool Slide

Functional Toy Bin Functional Hopscotch Functional Broom Functional Paper Sketchpad Functional Drumkit Functional Spiral Staircases In Your Safe Piggy Banks Film Reaper Movie Theater Left End Counter Dishwaser

Random Small mods

Loading and CAS screens

Free Sims 4, Free Loading Screen Bonehilda Loading Screen Custom Color loading screens Lights Out Loading Screen The Blues Collection Loading Screen Lin Sims Loading Screens San Sequoia Loading Screens Abstract Art + Landscape Loading Screens H-O-B & Sulani Loading Screens Autumn Loading Screens Pink Kitten Animated Loading Screen Life is Strange Loading Screens Cloudy TS2 CAS Background Ocean Waves CAS Room Old School - CAS Room Modern Minimalism CAS Room Plumbob replacements Crystal Loading Screens

lighting mods

sunblind lighting + installation Milk Thistle Better in-game lighting Gentle CAS lighting

[sometimeslwish]

Skyfall: All things End

@leighsartworks216 @comatosebunny09 seeing you guys being angsty rubbed off on me, so I'll thank you for inspiring this mess of an idea. So, I was listening to Skyfall on loop cause it reminded me of the spoilers I've seen about Sylus' myth, and because I've been reading angst lately:

Mc has been reborn, but her memories went to someone else, that someone else is... well, you.

You've always been creative as a child, great at telling stories and even better at singing thanks to your family. You've dreamt about those moments since you were 12, always thinking those were just dreams, leftover from your wild imagination, even if they crushed your soul in the process with how vivid and realistic they were.

You grow up to become an actor, singer and songwriter. The songs are filled with themes of mystery, violence, fantasy, obsession and references to a forbidden love that ends much too soon after the death of a lover. The details change, but the story is always the same.

A woman, reborn time and time again, sometimes powerful and feared, others afraid but determined, many variations that lead to the same outcome: she encounters a man. He's the opposite of what she is or stands for, born as each others enemy. Sometimes it starts rough, both at each other's necks, sometimes it's just one of them who wants to kill while the other is simply entertained by the attempts. There's times when she'll be afraid of him, but will still stand her ground, others where he's her subject, even if under a leash.

On each one, they learn and become stronger, reaching the same level of power and growing comfortable with each other, only for it to be all ripped away.

Sometimes he dies, sometimes it's her.

You've started to gain traction after your last album. The songs are a little bit more hopeful and empowering, but they still carry the hints to the pain. You're in the middle of an interview, talking about your inspiration when you talk about your dreams. You mention considering the idea of making an album for a movie centered on the dreams, how you've gone back on your dream journals to organize everything and the fact that you're halfway through.

The interview ends with you talking about who you would like to cast for the male lead, if the choice was on your hands, and that's when you mention the man. You give chopped up features, mentioning how you've never fully remembered his face, only his voice and height. You end up describing the up and coming actor named Sylus without being aware of it.

The internet goes crazy with it.

They keep mentioning it even after your tour and next thing you know, it's no longer an idea, but a full sized project. Of course, Sylus said yes– or his manager did, who knows– and when you meet him, your world shifts on its axis. It's him, the man you've been dreaming of, the voice in your dreams you started using in your head to encourage yourself. He's real and alive.

You have no time to recollect and center yourself as he approaches along with his manager. You recognize her too, she's the woman you've seeing in your dreams. Great to finally meet the lovers, you think bitterly.

You're tense and jumpy, but you manage– through internal screams and tears, but you manage. He offers nothing to you as both of you read the script and exchange comments on scenes, and the concoction of emotions inside of you leave a sour taste in your mouth.

Does he remember? Doesn't he suspect you? Their past lives are detailed in that script, and somehow you know every detail without being her. Does he know you're the one who wrote the script? He has to, that part of the interview was the most popular, it made rounds on the internet for a while.

Why won't he say anything?

You feel more conflicted each time you see them interact, and it's even worse after you and Sylus start getting closer and comfortable with each other. Bitterness, happiness, sadness, hope, dread. Those are the emotions that you stew in. You use them to write on restless nights, songs filled with despair and yearning alike. It's harder to keep the facade the longer you go.

You don't explode, that would be a lie, you simply break during a particular scene. You can still tell between reality and fiction, but your heart doesn't. When you're acting the scene in which you loose him, holding him in your arms as you wail, you bring everyone to tears with you.

Everyone congratulates you after the scene.

"Your acting was great," says a background actor.

"That scene will surely get you an award," whispers your manager.

"It gave me full body chills!"

You smile and say your thanks, try to be humble even through the numbness of it all. There's a difference in Sylus' behavior after that, you can't pinpoint what it is, but you can guess what the reason is.

The curtain is about to close, so you pay no mind to it, you've accepted your fate, even if it hurts like hell.

Read more here

[kitsuga]

Accidents Happen. {Mammon x Reader/MC}

Description: 

A fic in which Mammon sucks MC into another attempt to make money and have to run from Lucifer; accidental confessions are involved

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tags: fluff, accidental confessions, mammon and his money making schemes again..., reader is mc in this one!, wrote this based on base game mammon not nightbringer, not beta'd, not edited, gender neutral reader, mammon x reader/mc, obey me! x reader/mc, obey me!/obm/om, mammon

Word Count: 1,212

A/N: Written on: June 26, 2021 

Hes so CUTE I had to write this, there was no stopping my hand 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Calm down, calm down—we have enough photos for everybody!”  

“Mammon, we’ve got another one asking if we have any of ‘Lucifer sneezing’. Why are they so specific?” 

“It’s funny, and he’s vulnerable; the perfect photo!” 

“Do you... have one?” 

“Nope! Tell ‘em to think bigger!” 

Mammon lost MC in the crowd again as succubus and demon both surrounded him, looking to get their hands on exclusive photos of his brothers. He was all smiles, laying his charm on thick to get as much money as he could out of all the suckers—30,000 grimm for a photo of Satan asleep on a garden bench? 500,000 grimm for a photo of Asmo in a face mask? These people were fools and he was ready for the bountiful gold harvest. 

Luckily, MC agreed to help him. They said they were only in it so long as they got a cut of the profits, but Mammon knew better; they were always the person he turned to for shenanigans because they were the only one willing to jump head-first into anything with him. He scanned the crowd for them again, his smile growing even wider when he caught sight of them smiling with another demon, a devilish glint in their eyes as they exchanged a photo for cash.  

All was going well—they were almost out of photos and they had made an absolute killing; Mammon even had a card reader for his D.D.D. where that direct deposit tasted so sweet. Even better—not a brother of his in sight! No Lucifer, not even a Diavolo! He looked over at MC who gave him a knowing smirk and a thumbs up. Mammon felt as though he were surrounded by the sun, the comfort of finally winning wrapping around him like a blanket—it didn’t last long. 

With a crowd this big, it was sure to draw attention sometime; despite its size and the large amount of people pushing and shoving to get to the center, Mammon could still pick out the ever-authoritative Lucifer among them all. His fever dream snapped and started crumbling within seconds; he called out to MC. 

“Shops closed! Thanks fer comin’! Time to book it, MC!” 

Hopping off of his makeshift pedestal, MC met up with him; he grabbed their wrist and started to hightail it out of the crowd, pushing, shoving, squeezing through people as he told them off when they complained. He could hear people behind the two of them complain more about being shoved and others squealing over the appearance of Lucifer. For a split second, Mammon considered staying within the confines of the crowd, just running in circles between people to keep the distance between the two of them and the ball of fury that was on his way—it was a short-lived plan as he realized Lucifer was starting to disperse the crowd; what was he supposed to do? What was he going to do? He nervously called out to MC. 

“Hey uh, got any ideas?” 

They clicked their tongue and flipped the script, grabbing onto his wrist and pulling him along instead. 

“Follow me and keep your head down!”  

They lead him in a zig-zag motion through the people before bursting out of the crowd straight into an alleyway where they ran as fast as they could. They made their way through various streets, alleys, anywhere they thought they could get away from Lucifer; whenever they thought they were far enough, they ducked into one last alleyway and hid behind some stray boxes and trash cans. They both collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily and lounging as though they were about to fall over completely and pass out at any moment. Once they both caught most of their breath, they finally looked at one another and started in a fit of giggles, steadily growing to a stomach-aching laughter. MC started to settle down first, wiping away a few stray tears while Mammon worked on slowing down back to giggles. 

“You know,” MC started, pausing to take a few breaths, “Lucifer’s going to make us give all that money back.” 

“Yeah,” Mammon could hardly get out through his laughter. 

“We’ll probably be punished severely.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’ll just blame it on you.” 

“Hey!” Mammon pointed an accusatory finger in their direction. “You were in on it too! Don’t leave me hangin’ like that!” 

“Every person for themselves,” they stuck their tongue out and bit it, a smirk on their lips. 

Mammon glared at them, though it wouldn’t be for long since their smile turned to a shit-eating grin and he couldn’t help but reciprocate. They moved closer to him, tapping his chest with a fire in their eyes. 

“Besides, he won’t know about the money on Goldie if we don’t tell him!” 

Mammon’s smile grew from ear to ear, a warmth growing in his chest like a ripple with each tap of their finger. He didn’t realize they had moved so close, but he felt so warm and comfortable, he couldn’t help but look at them with a soft, loving look in his eyes. He spoke before he could think. 

“See? This is why I fell in love with ya, MC.” 

Their widened eyes staring back at him snapped him out of his love drunk gaze. He could feel his face heat up along with his chest this time, his eyebrows drawing together in false anger in an attempt to backtrack what he had said. His eyes darted around, looking everywhere except into MC’s, biting his tongue a lot as he tried to stammer through a few words, a few excuses, none of which were successful. He kept trying to turn his face away from them, but they simply followed his gaze, an evil smirk following his eyes around. 

“Quit it, will ya?” He closed his eyes and turned his face away again, “Forget it.” 

“Oh, come on Mammon, tell me what you said.” 

“I said nothin’!” 

“Something about falling in love with me?” 

“No!”  

Mammon stopped his back and forth arguing with them after they put a hand over his, leaning in dangerously close to his face. MC pushed his sunglasses up, taking a good look at him; he swallowed hard and found it almost impossible to look into their eyes, but pushed himself to do so anyways, even when they leaned all the way in and gave his lips a gentle kiss. 

Starstruck, lovestruck, whatever kind of struck he was, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t close his eyes, he couldn’t kiss back, he just sat there with wide eyes and his face as dark as it could go. MC didn’t stay long, pulling away with an innocent smile this time, reaching up to grab his chin gently and shake his face back and forth. 

“Well, you’ll have to love me later. Right now, I think we gotta get going.” 

They stood quickly and pulled him to his feet, taking off without him, laughing at him whenever he called out for them to wait. He sighed, both exasperated and in longing, and watched them as they went; maybe he’d take this money of his and take them out to a nice dinner for once. 

“Mammon...” A booming voice came from right behind him. 

Or... maybe not. 

[fushizhuo]

Happier Than Ever

Y/N, the youngest member of NewJeans, doesn’t seem to fit in. Her groupmates think she’s distant and always trying to outshine them. But during one performance, she steps forward with an unplanned solo, revealing a side of her that no one saw coming. As the truth comes out, everything changes, and Y/N is forced to take a choice she never chose.

Pairing — NewJeans x F! Reader (platonic)

Genre — Angst and a bit of fluff if u squint

Warnings — Mentions of trauma and abuse

WC — 8.6k words

Y/N had always been the outlier in NewJeans. The maknae, the sassy one, the one who never seemed to care. At least, that’s what the others thought. From the moment she joined the group, she was distant, never quite fitting into their easy camaraderie. The way she threw herself into practice, trying to outdo everyone, the sharp remarks, the cold demeanor—it was enough to make them think she was just trying to steal the spotlight.

“She’s so full of herself,” Hyein had muttered one day, rubbing her sore shoulders after another long practice session. “Yeah, I don’t get why she tries so hard,” Danielle added, her tone frustrated.

“It’s like she thinks she has to be perfect all the time.” Haerin hummed. “She probably just wants to be the center of attention,” Minji sighed. “I don’t know. She’s always got this attitude. It’s like she doesn’t care about us.”

What they didn’t know was that Y/N was fighting a battle none of them could see. Her father, a man who had never supported her dream of becoming an idol, was the force behind her relentless drive.

To him, anything less than perfection was a failure. And failure wasn’t an option. “If you don’t stay at the top, you’re done,” he had told her, his voice harsh. “I’ll pull you out of that group and make sure you do something worthwhile. Doctor. Lawyer. Something respectable.”

She had no choice but to push herself harder than anyone else, even if it meant alienating her members. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

That night, the arena was packed. Thousands of fans waved their lightsticks, cheering as the stage lights dimmed for the next performance. Backstage, NewJeans were preparing for their set, but Y/N felt a knot in her stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Tonight, she had to break free.

Before the others could ask what was wrong, Y/N stepped forward, holding her microphone tightly. Her heart raced as she looked at Minji, her voice trembling. “I need to sing a solo.”

“What?” Minji frowned, confused. “We don’t have time for that, Y/N. It’s not part of the plan.”

“I'm sorry, but please.” Y/N said quietly, her eyes avoiding theirs. “I have to do this.”

The others exchanged glances, their frustration evident. What was she thinking? They had worked so hard to prepare for tonight’s show, and now Y/N was going off-script? But in the end they agreed. She never begs, nor apologizes. This must be important.

“Fine,” Minji finally said, exasperated. “But this better be quick.”

Y/N nodded and walked toward the stage, her steps heavy. As she stepped into the spotlight, she caught sight of her father sitting in the front row. His face was blank, emotionless, but Y/N knew better. She could feel his judgment, the pressure that had been suffocating her for years.

She grabs her guitar with her, playing the chords softly, and Y/N took a deep breath. This was it.

She was going to let everything out.

"When I’m away from you, I’m happier than ever…"

Her voice was soft at first, almost fragile, but the weight of the words echoed through the arena. The fans quieted, sensing something was different. Backstage, the other members stared in confusion, unsure of what was happening.

"Wish I could explain it better, I wish it wasn’t true…"

Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, but she kept going. The memories of her father’s cruel words, his impossible demands, played over and over in her mind. This wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was her story.

"You called me again, drunk in your benz, driving home under the influence…"

As the next verse flowed out, Minji’s eyes widened in realization. This wasn’t just some random song choice. Y/N was singing about something real. Something painful.

"You scared me to death, but I’m wasting my breath, ‘cause you only listen to your fucking friends…"

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she sang. She could feel her father’s cold gaze on her from the audience, and it made her chest tighten. She had spent so long trying to please him, trying to be perfect, but it was never enough.

"I don’t relate to you, I don’t relate to you, no, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty, you made me hate this city…"

Haerin gasped softly, finally understanding. Y/N wasn’t some brat trying to outshine them. She was fighting for her life, for her dream. And she had been doing it all alone.

"And I don’t talk shit about you on the internet, never told anyone anything bad, ‘cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad…"

The pain in Y/N’s voice was raw, unfiltered. Every word cut deeper, every note a release of all the emotions she had buried for years. The fans were in shock, many of them wiping away tears, while backstage, the members watched, hearts breaking.

"So don’t waste the time I don’t have, don’t try to make me feel bad..."

Y/N’s voice grew louder, more intense. The anger she had kept hidden for so long was finally spilling out. She wasn’t just singing for herself—she was fighting for her freedom, for her right to choose her own life.

"I could talk about every time that you showed up on time, but I’d have an empty line, ‘cause you never did…"

Her hands trembled as she gripped the microphone, her voice carrying the weight of years of disappointment. Her father had never been there when she needed him, never supported her when she struggled, and now she was finally telling the world.

"Never paid any mind to my mother or friends, so I shut ‘em all out for you ‘cause I was a kid…"

The lights on stage seemed to dim around her as the final words fell from her lips. The room was silent, the audience stunned, unsure of how to react to the raw honesty they had just witnessed.

Backstage, the other members could only stand in shock, tears streaming down their faces. Y/N had been fighting a battle none of them had seen, a battle they had misunderstood. She wasn’t trying to be better than them. She was trying to survive.

"You ruined everything good, always said you were misunderstood, made all my moments your own..

just fucking leave me alone!"

By the end of the song, Y/N’s voice was shaking, her body trembling from the emotional toll. She stood there, tears rolling down her cheeks, staring out into the darkened crowd, knowing her father was there, watching.

Then, as the final note faded, the silence was broken by slow, hesitant applause. It started with one person, then another, until the entire stadium erupted into cheers. The fans understood. They had felt her pain, and they were with her.

Y/N didn’t move. Her eyes were locked on the figure of her father sitting in the front row. His face was cold, unfeeling, as if her words hadn’t touched him at all. And in that moment, she knew—he would never change. He would never let her be free.

As the rest of NewJeans rushed onto the stage to comfort her, Y/N felt her father’s presence like a dark cloud looming over her. Her members hugged her tightly, whispering apologies, telling her they were there for her now. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

“I’m so sorry,” Minji whispered, holding Y/N’s shaking form. “We didn’t know… We didn’t understand.”

“We should’ve seen it,” Hanni added, her voice thick with guilt. “You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

Y/N’s tears fell faster, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Her father’s eyes bored into her from across the stage, and she knew this wasn’t over. It wasn’t up to her anymore.

Suddenly, a figure began moving toward the stage. It was her father, pushing his way through the crowd, his face stone-cold with fury. The members of NewJeans noticed him at the same time, their protectiveness flaring up as they closed in around Y/N.

“What does he want?” Danielle asked, her voice trembling with anger.

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She just stood there, frozen in place, as her father reached the edge of the stage and motioned for her to come down. His hand gestured sharply, a silent command.

“Y/N…” Minji started, her voice full of concern.

But Y/N knew she had no choice. She wiped her tears and stepped back from her groupmates, avoiding their eyes as she walked toward the stairs. The crowd’s cheers faded as confusion spread through the arena.

“Where is she going?” Hyein whispered, panic creeping into her voice.

Her father grabbed her arm as soon as she reached him, pulling her away from the stage. The grip was tight, unforgiving. Y/N winced but didn’t fight back. She was too drained, too scared. Her dream was slipping away before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do.

“No,” Minji said firmly, stepping forward. “She doesn’t have to go with you.”

But Y/N’s father shot them a cold glare. “This is none of your business. She’s my daughter. And she’s done with this ridiculous idol nonsense.”

Danielle’s fists clenched in anger. “You can’t do that to her. She’s not your puppet.”

Y/N shook her head slightly, signaling to her members that it was no use. This was her reality. Her father’s control over her life was too strong, and no matter how much they cared for her now, it wasn’t enough to change that.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry…”

Minji, Hanni, Danielle, Hyein and Haerin stood helplessly as Y/N was led away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. The fans, confused and heartbroken, watched as the youngest member of NewJeans was taken from the stage, her future with the group slipping away with every step.

As the doors to the backstage area closed behind her, Y/N felt her father’s control settling over her once again. The dream she had worked so hard for, the friendships she had finally started to build—it was all slipping through her fingers.

She had sung her truth. She had shown the world who she really was.

But it wasn’t enough.

Her father’s voice was low and cold as they left the venue. “That’s it. You’re done with this idol nonsense. Tomorrow, we’ll start making plans for your future. A real future.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She had nothing left to say.

As the car drove away from the arena, leaving the lights and cheers behind, Y/N stared out the window, her heart heavy with the realization that her dream was over.

She was no longer a part of NewJeans.

And in that cold night, she knew she would never be happier than ever again.

[hrrtshape]

what kinds of extracurriculars does st lazarus have ? 🩰

hi lovie !! so sorry that if took so long to get back to you </3 copying everything from my script because my intro isnt done yet !!

- *EXTRACURRACULAR.*

- *intelligence* **⋆** *clubs*

---

**✶** *debate*

**✶** *coding*

**✶** *model united nations*

(Got so lazy that i’m not even erasing the spaces notion forced upon me)

**✶** *public speaking*

**✶** *robotics*

**✶** *science olympiad*

---

- *creative* **⋆** *clubs*

**✶** *ceramics*

**✶** *creative writing*

**✶** *cooking*

**✶** *drama*

**✶** *fashion design*

**✶** *film production*

**✶** *photography*

---

- *athletic* ⋆ *clubs*

**✶** *archery*

**✶** *ballet*

**✶** *basketball*

**✶** *cross-country*

**✶** *dance*

**✶** *equestrian*

**✶** *fencing*

**✶** *football*

**✶** *gymnastics*

**✶** *ice hockey*

**✶** *ice skating*

**✶** *martial arts*

**✶** *rock climbing*

**✶** *rowing*

**✶** *sailing*

**✶** *skiing*

**✶** *soccer*

**✶** *surfing*

**✶** *swimming*

---

- *music* ⋆ *clubs*

**✶** *choir*

**✶** *glee*

**✶** *jazz band*

BITS AND BOPS (because this is the kewlest school ever)

**✶ *starbucks**: an in-house starbucks for a caffeine fix between classes, with a cozy lounge area.*

**✶ *annual gala**: the school hosts an extravagant charity gala every year, attended by celebrities, alumni, and high-profile guests, raising millions for various causes.*

**✶ *secret garden**: hidden within the campus is a beautiful, secluded garden where students can relax and study amidst nature.*

**✶ *cultural exchange program**: offers students opportunities to study abroad in prestigious partner schools around the world.*

**✶ *mentorship program**: every student is paired with an alumni mentor who is a leader in their field, providing guidance and networking opportunities.*

**✶ *exclusive internships**: partnerships with top corporations and institutions offer students coveted internship positions.*

**✶ *technology integration**: each student is provided with the latest technology, including a personal laptop and access to cutting-edge software.*

**✶ *luxury transport**: the school offers chauffeured car services for students who need transportation to and from the campus.*

**✶ *uniforms**: designed by a renowned fashion designer, blending classic elegance with modern chic, featuring tailored blazers, silk ties, and custom embroidery.*

**✶ *celebrity speakers**: regular guest lectures from celebrities, political figures, and industry leaders inspire and educate the student body.*

**✶ *student concierge**: a dedicated team available to assist students with personal requests, from booking travel arrangements to organising study sessions.*

**✶ *lavish fountain**: at the center of the school's main courtyard stands an intricately designed marble fountain, complete with statues of mythological figures, which serves as a popular meeting spot for students.*

**✶ *secret passages**: rumour has it that the school is crisscrossed with hidden passageways and secret rooms, remnants of its history as a historic mansion.

**✶ *interactive science museum**: an interactive science museum on campus offers hands-on exhibits and experiments, sparking curiosity and innovation among students.* Yes !

**✶ *zen garden**: a serene zen garden provides a tranquil escape for meditation and contemplation, with beautifully raked sand patterns and bonsai trees.

**✶ *student lounge**: a plush student lounge equipped with gaming consoles, pool tables, and cozy seating areas for relaxation and socialising

**✶ *historical library wing**: a special wing of the library dedicated to rare and historical books, manuscripts, and documents, with a temperature-controlled environment for preservation.*

**✶ *athlete training centre**: a high-tech training center for student-athletes, complete with personal trainers, sports medicine, and recovery facilities.*

**✶ *green roofs**: several buildings feature green roofs with gardens that students can tend to, part of the school's urban agriculture program.*

**✶ *outdoor amphitheater**: an outdoor amphitheater for performances, lectures, and movie nights under the stars.

**✶ *aquarium**: a small on-campus aquarium featuring marine life as part of the biology curriculum and for general student enjoyment.*

**✶ *planetarium shows**: regular shows and educational programs in the planetarium, covering astronomy, space exploration, and the latest scientific discoveries.*

**✶ *gardening club greenhouse**: a greenhouse specifically for the gardening club, where students can grow and study a variety of plants year-round.*

**✶ *tech help desk**: a tech help desk staffed by students and IT professionals, assisting with any technical issues and providing training workshops.*

**✶ *boutique school store**: a boutique store selling exclusive school merchandise, from luxury branded uniforms to artisanal school supplies.* yes !!!

**✶ *speakeasy-style study room**: a hidden, speakeasy-style study room accessed through a bookcase in the library, offering a quiet and unique study space.*

**✶ *personal trainers**: available for students who are athletes or simply fitness enthusiasts, offering personalized fitness plans and coaching.*

**✶ *gourmet vending machines**: vending machines stocked with gourmet snacks and meals, including sushi, salads, and organic treats

[inky-writing]

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Inky-writing masterlist Mirage masterlist

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,754

Chapter 7: What a Night

May 13, 2005

The morning dawned with rays of bright sunlight filtering through the blinds of her bedroom window. Y/N stretched in bed, feeling so many emotions that she couldn’t describe her exact state. Today was her 18th birthday. It should have felt amazing, a day of celebration, but it also carried a bittersweet weight. This was her first birthday without her parents.

Charlie, ever the quiet but loving uncle that he was, had hinted at plans for the afternoon. Y/N wasn’t sure what to expect, but she was touched by his efforts. By late morning, he called her downstairs, wearing a rare smile that hinted at his excitement.

“Come on, kid” he said, putting on his jacket, “We’re heading to the diner for lunch. Got something special planned”.

Y/N smiled and grabbed her leather jacket, “You didn’t have to do anything, you know”, she said softly.

Charlie shrugged, “You only turn eighteen once. Besides, I had some help making it happen”.

The Forks diner was more lively than usual when they arrived. Bella was already seated at their usual booth, her leg still in a cast propped up on a chair. She grinned when she saw Y/N and waved them over.

“Happy birthday!” Bella said as Y/N slid into the booth.

“Thanks, Bella”, Y/N said, her heart warming with enthusiasm.

The waitress brought over their orders, along with a large chocolate cake that Charlie had clearly put some thought into. It was decorated with pastel green frosting and had “Happy 18th, Y/N!” written in careful script. Y/N couldn’t help but smile.

As they started cutting into the cake, the bell over the diner door jingled, and Y/N glanced up to see none other than the Cullens entering. They moved with their usual grace, a collective presence that seemed to draw every eye in the room. Carlisle was at the forefront, his expression kind, while Esme followed closely, radiant. Behind them were Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett, each striking in their own way.

“Chief Swan”, Carlisle greeted, nodding toward Charlie, “I hope we’re not interrupting”.

Charlie smiled, “Not at all. We’re celebrating Y/N’s birthday, but it is nice to see the whole family”.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush as Carlisle’s eyes lingered on her for a moment. His gaze was unreadable, and it sent a shivers through her. The Cullens exchanged a quick look, then moved toward the table.

“Happy birthday, Y/N”, Carlisle said, his voice warm and low as he extended a hand.

“Thank you, Dr. Cullen” she replied, shaking his hand and feeling a strange jolt at the contact. His touch was cool but gentle, and she found herself momentarily captivated.

The rest of the Cullens chimed in with their birthday wishes, Alice’s enthusiasm standing out as she beamed at Y/N, “Eighteen! That’s such a special birthday. I hope it’s been wonderfu… OMG, I didn’t get you a present!!!” she added, panicking.

“It has been… and don’t worry, you don’t need to get me anything” Y/N said, glancing at Charlie and Bella with gratitude.

The Cullens didn’t stay long. Once they left, Charlie revealed his gift: a sleek silver laptop. Y/N’s jaw dropped as she opened the box.

“Charlie, this is too much” she said, her voice emotional.

“You need something for school” he answered gruffly, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “And maybe to write all those stories you’re always dreaming up”.

Y/N hugged him tightly, “Thank you. This means so much”.

Bella’s gift was equally thoughtful. She handed Y/N a small box, and inside was a delicate silver heart necklace with a deep red stone at its center.

“It’s beautiful” Y/N said, fastening it around her neck, “Thank you, Bella”.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and conversation, but Y/N couldn’t help but replay the moment she’d locked eyes with Carlisle. There had been something in his expression, something like curiosity. She shook the thought away, telling herself it was nothing.

As the clock approached 6 pm, they left the diner and returned home. Y/N spent the rest of the evening tinkering with her new laptop, her heart full but her mind restless. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, this birthday felt like the start of something new.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, smoothing the fabric of her dress and trying to calm her nerves. The theme of the prom, red carpet glamour with a slight James Bond twist, was extravagant for Forks, and it only made her more anxious. Angela had helped her pick out the dress weeks ago: a sleek, forest-green gown that hugged her frame and flowed elegantly to the floor. Her hair was styled in loose waves, and a hint of makeup brought out the soft features she rarely noticed. She added the final touches to her outfit: some deep brown-red lipstick, and the necklace Bella gifted her earlier that day. 

Charlie complimented her when he saw her come down the stairs, “You look great, kiddo”, he said. He didn’t even complain when she insisted on snapping a quick photo before she left.

Angela and Jessica picked her up in Jessica's car. Both were dressed to the nines, Angela in a flowy lavender dress and Jessica in a daring pink number that turned heads as soon as they arrived to the venue. The place was unrecognizable, transformed into a glittering homage to Hollywood with black and gold decorations, a red carpet leading to the entrance, and even a fake casino area tucked in the corner.

Y/N spotted Bella and Edward almost immediately. Bella was still wearing a cast on her leg but managed to look radiant in a deep blue dress. Edward, as usual, looked like he’d walked off the cover of a magazine in his tuxedo. They stood by the entrance, talking quietly. Y/N had grown used to the way Edward seemed to focus entirely on Bella, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. She waved to them as Angela led her toward the punch table.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, music, and dancing. Y/N felt lighter than she had in months, even as a dull headache pulsed in the back of her mind. She linked it up to stress or exhaustion: it had been a long day after all. For now, she was determined to enjoy herself.

At one point, she caught sight of Carlisle and Esme standing near the back of the room, clearly chaperoning but blending in with their impeccable style. Carlisle was dressed in a sharp dark blue suit, his hair neatly combed back, while Esme wore a simple but elegant silver dress that complemented her smile. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of admiration for the couple. They looked like they belonged on the red carpet themselves.

Edward danced with Bella, his movements graceful and measured to accommodate her injury.  

Y/N watched from a distance, smiling at how happy Bella looked despite everything she’d been through. But there was something about Edward’s gaze that unsettled her. He looked… guarded, almost tense. It was a contrast to the lightheartedness of the night.

The dance wound down around midnight, and students began trickling out of the venue. Y/N found herself stepping outside for some fresh air, grateful for a moment away from the noise and crowd. The cool night air was refreshing against her skin as she sank onto a bench near the entrance.

To her surprise, Carlisle appeared moments later. He glanced around as if making sure no one else was nearby before sitting down beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them.

“Enjoyed yourself?” he asked, his tone gentle.

Y/N smiled faintly, “Yeah, it’s been nice. A little overwhelming, but nice”.

Carlisle nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m glad. It’s important to have moments like these, especially when life feels… heavy”.

She looked down at her hands, picking at her dress, “It still feels strange, celebrating anything without my parents. But Charlie’s been great. And Bella, too”.

“You’ve been handling everything remarkably well”, Carlisle said.

Y/N shrugged, “Some days are better than others. The bad days still sneak up on me, though”. She hesitated, then added, “I guess I just… don’t know what to do with myself sometimes”.

Carlisle’s expression softened, “That’s perfectly normal. Grief is unpredictable, and it doesn’t follow a timeline. The important thing is to give yourself grace and to keep reaching out for support when you need it”.

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening, “Thanks, Dr. Cullen. I’m glad I… I’m glad I have someone to talk to”.

He smiled gently, “Please, Y/N, call me Carlisle when we're not at the clinic”.

They sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of the dance faintly drifting through the open door. Y/N glanced at Carlisle out of the corner of her eye. He seemed lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the night sky.

“You’re always so calm”, she said quietly, “I don’t know how you do it”.

Carlisle chuckled softly, “Years of practice, I suppose. But even I have my moments of doubt. It’s part of being human”.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. There was something almost otherworldly about him, his composure, his presence. Yet, he seemed so genuine, so grounded. It was comforting in a way she couldn’t explain.

Inside, Esme watched them through the window, her eyes narrowing slightly. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… different about Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, her powers had no effect on the girl. It was as if Y/N existed in a bubble that Esme couldn’t penetrate. She made a mental note to report it to the Masters during her next call.

Outside, Carlisle stood, brushing invisible lint from his jacket. “I should get back inside”, he said, “It was good talking with you, Y/N. I’ll see you at our next appointment”.

“Yeah”, Y/N said, standing as well. “Thanks, Dr. Cu... Carlisle. For everything”.

As he walked back toward the venue, Y/N lingered for a moment, staring up at the stars. Her headache had faded, replaced by a strange calmness. She didn’t know why, but talking to Carlisle always made her feel lighter. 

With a deep breath, she headed to the parking lot to go home.

Chapter 8 >>>

Tag list: @inky-bonnie

[sidsinning]

In terms of equivalent exchange Gabe used his life to heal Nathalie and his wife who were both TECHNICALLY not dead so it works out

Unless despite the scripts and storyboards, this ends up being Amelie after all

In that case he just healed Nathalie with his leftover time before his inevitable death succumbing to the cataclysm

(Side note: another case against this being Amelie besides the script and storyboards- why would Amelie be at the center of this scene when she's just Felix's mom, instead of Nathalie who just got revived from the brink of death and is way more significant to the show?? artistically it doesn't really add up but if this is Amelie I guess its just poor staging wsdjswsed; "it was to hoodwink the viewers" what is the purpose of this we just gonna find out next season anyways LOL)