#i wanted to write something a bit different

[book-lore]

Hello again friends. Library goblin here to ruin something else for you! It's apparently what I do but this one might be worth your time.

I've said it before and I continue to rail against AI because it is a blight. It's theft of other people's work. It's ruining the environment to run it. It's filling the internet with questionable and outright incorrect information based on its hallucinations. All of these things you've heard before likely and while I would argue that all these things are important, let me help you hit it home.

For one, you'll note this poor gent has made a point to include that he's still failing. There's a reason for that. ChatGPT doesn't form opinions. It has no concern for what it's doing and you'll note that a lot of what it produces isn't particularly engaging, even though it can technically create (steal) things. It's at its most interesting when it's failing to produce something. But that's also because those things are usually incoherent horse shit. It's amusing (if we ignore the amount of water waste that goes into creating it), but if you were hoping for a better grade with it, or even the ability to graduate, you're likely to be sorely disappointed. Writing is a skill and when someone works at it and gets better at it, they can produce things that make the reader more excited than just a bunch of technical sentences strung together can.

But maybe you don't care about any of that. Maybe you just want to get out of the class with something resembling a decent mark. The thing is, that class was likely once designed with the idea that it was going to give you the skill to write something later if you need to. And trust me, whether you think you will or not, you may need to. Communicating well is something people take for granted because those who do it regularly making it seem like it's easy. I've literally seen CEOs fuck this up because they didn't regard this as anything worth their time and stunningly, they ended up getting in trouble for it. Maybe you don't care about it now, but what about when you need to write a cover letter that doesn't suck? Your ability there is going to be the difference between you getting a job or not. Or maybe you want to get a little more personal.

Right now, you probably aren't thinking about something that hasn't happened yet, but are you prepared to write your wedding vows? A eulogy? These are difficult things to do and very personal pieces that you will want to be able to express yourself with. How about writing a love letter? It might be old fashioned but if you wanted to, shouldn't that be something you can do? Isn't having that skill worth trying a little bit to impress someone you like?

The point of this is that there is a lot to the world of expression that you miss out on by pretending the computer can just do it for you. It can be fun. It can be rewarding. It can be the difference between you getting a chance to interview for a job or not. And for the record, a lot of teachers can tell that the bullshit paper you turned in from ChatGPT was written by AI. If you're going to turn in something poorly written in the first place, at least if you wrote it, you can probably make something better that will garner you a better mark. Contrary to what you might think, your teachers have a sense of humour. ChatGPT does not.

Be creative. Be expressive. Be able to write your own life down. No matter how much you don't think you'll need it, it's better to be more skilled in this world than it is to be unprepared.

[lvnleah]

the ears tour | our little love.

could be the last roo fic for a bit because im struggling writing her so so much. If anyone has any ideas please send them in <33

You had been to Wembley before. You had sat in the stands, wearing your tiny England shirt with Mead on the back, watching Beth play on one of the biggest stages. You cheered when Beth scored, jumped up and down when Viv made the perfect pass while playing for the Netherlands, and clapped along as the whole stadium sang Sweet Caroline after the match. 

But this was different.

Tonight, Wembley wasn’t a football stadium. It was something else entirely. The air buzzed with excitement, people shimmered in glitter and sequins, and everywhere she looked, arms were stacked with friendship bracelets. You gripped Viv’s hand tightly as they stepped out of the car, eyes wide.

Viv squeezed her hand. “Excited?”

You nodded excitedly. “Yeah! We’re seeing Taylor Swift, Mamma! Look at my cowboy boots too!”

Viv looked down at your boots—pink, covered in tiny white stars, the ones Monkey had given you for your birthday. You had insisted on wearing them, even though Beth warned you they might make your feet sore after a while.

Viv grinned. “Monkey made a good choice, huh?” she said, reaching down to adjust them just slightly. “They look perfect.”

Beth chuckled, taking your free hand. “They’re gonna be great for dancing. You ready to sing your heart out?”

You nodded so hard your braids bounced. “Yes!”

The closer you got to the stadium, the louder everything became. People were singing already, trading friendship bracelets, and you felt like your heart might pop out of your chest from excitement.

Inside, the stadium felt even bigger than when it was set up for football. The last time you were here, the grass was green, and the seats were filled with fans in football kits. Now, the stage stretched out in front of you, screens glowing, lights flashing in different colours.

You tugged on Viv’s sleeve. “Mamma, where’s the pitch?”

Beth scooped you up onto her hip as you admired the stage from the box you were in, “It’s under the stage, munchkin.”

“Oh…” you mumbled, “So it’s not disappeared then? ‘Cus we need it for you and Mamma to play on!”

Viv laughed, “No Roo, it’s not disappeared, don’t worry. It’ll be back the next time we’re here for football.”

“That’s good then!” You smiled. “I don't want the pitch to leave.”

With a little help from Beth, you spent the time before the concert swapping bracelets with other people around you. Every time you got a new one, you held it up proudly to Beth and Viv.

“Look! This one says Enchanted, Mummy you like that song!”

Beth ruffled your hair. “I do, it’s a good one isn’t it?”

Viv laughed. “You’re gonna have more bracelets than arms at this rate, Roo.”

A little while later, the lights dimmed and the entire stadium erupted into cheers. Your heart leapt into your throat as the music started, and suddenly, it was real—Taylor Swift was right there, and the whole crowd was singing along.

You screamed the lyrics, dancing in your boots, twirling when Viv spun you around. It felt like magic.

At one point, your legs got tired, and Viv lifted you onto her shoulders. Up there, you felt like you could see everything way better. The stage, the crowd, the way Beth laughed up at you, shaking her head as you waved your hands in the air.

Beth pulled out her phone, recording you. “You’re gonna love watching this back, Roo.”

But you didn’t care about videos right now. Right now, all you cared about was this.

The music, the lights, the way Viv held onto your legs so you wouldn’t fall. The way Beth grinned at you.

It was the best night ever.

But even the best nights had to slow down eventually.

Your voice was hoarse, your feet were sore, and no matter how hard you tried to fight it, your eyelids started to feel heavy.

Then, the soft notes of Never Grow Up filled the stadium, and suddenly, everything felt warm.

Viv felt it before you did.

Before you could even wobble, she lifted you down, settling you in her lap.

“I think she’s done for the night,” Viv murmured, rubbing slow circles on your back.

“I’m not…sleepy,” you mumbled, but even as you spoke, your head was already drooping onto Viv’s shoulder.

Beth smiled, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. “Of course not, Roo.”

Viv pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay, kleine. Go to sleep.”

You curled into Viv’s chest, letting your eyes slip closed.

Warm, safe, and happy, lulled by Taylor’s voice and the hum of the crowd, you drifted off.

You didn’t see the rest of the concert, but you didn’t need to.

You would definitely remember this forever.

[heartsbyani]

𐔌 현진 .ᐟ ꒱ ── "the art of loving you."ㅤ❀

HWANG HYUNJIN! ⓘ when your artistic boyfriend wants to use you as his muse for the first time . . (,,>ヮ<,,)!

⌣ ﹒ ✿ ﹕ 𝑏f!hyunjin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , pure love ! 33OOwc. ⎯⎯ Yᗩᑎi's ᒪIᗷᖇᗩᖇY ⟢ cw. nicknames , kisses , intimacy , jokes. ┆ 🐇 ⋮ an original drabble .ᐟ ֹ ₊

𝑦𝑎𝑛𝑖'𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𓈒 𓈒 ⭑ huhuhuhu i wrote this in the span of an hour. minus the formatting. i love love so much :( i love hyunjin so much :( i cried writing this sorry. mostly written for my hun, ishi. i know life isn't the best right now, but here's a lil' something that might help you be a bit more at ease! apologies if it isn't very effective though. love you! happy reading <3

the apartment smelled like faint lavender and the lingering sweetness of the vanilla candle she had burned earlier. a warm, golden haze from the late afternoon sun spilled in through the sheer curtains, pooling on the wooden floors, stretching shadows long and lazy.

the world outside hummed softly—distant car horns, the occasional laughter of neighbors, the rhythmic tapping of a tree branch against the window. inside, everything was still.

cozy.

wrapped in the kind of silence that only felt peaceful, never empty.

hyunjin had been staring at her for a while now, perched on the couch with his sketchbook in his lap, his pencil resting against his bottom lip. he wasn’t even pretending to be subtle. every few seconds, his fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for her but thought better of it.

she was curled up at the other end of the couch, distracted by the book in her hands, knees tucked to her chest, one sock slipping off her foot.

he liked her like this.

relaxed.

unfiltered.

beautiful in the way that people are when they don’t know they’re being watched.

he swallowed. his heart was already tumbling over itself.

he had been thinking about it for days now. weeks, even. the idea had planted itself in his mind like a stubborn seed, refusing to be ignored. i want to capture her.

it wasn’t just a want. it was an ache. a pull.

he had sketched her before—messy, thoughtless doodles in the corners of napkins and on the backs of receipts, quick little impressions of the way her hair fell, the way her lips curved when she was deep in thought. but this—this would be different.

this time, he wanted her to be his muse.

he exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly. she finally looked up, blinking at him, and he panicked—like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

"what?" she asked, voice soft with amusement.

hyunjin hesitated. his fingers drummed against his sketchbook. "nothing," he mumbled, glancing away.

a pause.

then she nudged his thigh with her foot. "liar."

he huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. she always saw right through him.

for a moment, he debated brushing it off, pretending like it wasn’t clawing at his insides. but he knew he couldn’t. not with her.

so he bit his lip, gathering his thoughts, before finally exhaling.

"i want to paint you."

the words hung between them, stretching the air thin.

she blinked again, tilting her head. "what?"

hyunjin sat up straighter, shifting so he was fully facing her now, sketchbook balanced on his knee. his fingers curled over the edges of it, gripping it like a lifeline.

"i—i've been thinking about it for a while," he confessed, voice quieter now, like he was scared of startling the moment. "i want to paint you. properly. like… really take my time with it."

she didn’t respond immediately, just studying him. he could see the gears turning in her head.

"you want to paint.. me?" she repeated, as if testing the weight of it on her tongue.

hyunjin nodded. "yeah."

he couldn’t quite read her expression. he wasn’t sure if she liked the idea or not, and the uncertainty sent something anxious skittering through his chest.

"you don’t have to say yes," he added quickly, fingers tightening around his sketchbook.

"i just—i think you’re beautiful. and i want to capture you. not just your face but… you. the way you exist. the way you are."

there it was again—that ache. that pull.

she was silent for another beat, then a small smile played at her lips. "that’s very romantic of you."

hyunjin exhaled a breathy laugh, relieved by her teasing tone. "i am very romantic, actually."

she hummed, pretending to consider. "i don’t know… what if you make me look ugly?"

he scoffed immediately, reaching out to flick her knee. "impossible."

she giggled, pulling her legs away.

hyunjin watched her for a second, then, quieter, more vulnerable—"you’ll do it?"

she held his gaze. and then she nodded.

"yeah," she murmured. "of course. i'll be yours in whatever way you need."

hyunjin's entire body melted. his shoulders dropped, his fingers loosened, his breath left him in one long, relieved exhale. a slow, glowing grin stretched across his face, dimples appearing, eyes crescented with something soft and adoring.

"you really will?"

she rolled her eyes, but her smile was fond. "yes, baby."

baby.

his heart stumbled over itself again.

before she could react, he was already leaning forward, hands finding her waist, pulling her into him. she laughed as she tumbled into his lap, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

"hyunjin—"

"thank you," he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, voice muffled against her skin. "you have no idea how much i wanted this."

she softened, fingers threading through his hair. "i think i do."

hyunjin smiled against her skin. his hands rested against the small of her back, warm and secure, holding her like something precious. because she was.

and now, he could finally capture her the way he saw her.

the apartment smelled different today.

not drastically—just subtly altered, the way a shift in seasons feels. the usual traces of lavender and vanilla were still there, clinging to the air like a familiar embrace, but now they mingled with the crisp scent of stretched canvas, the faint musk of oil pastels, and the distinct earthiness of paint—thick, rich, waiting.

hyunjin had been preparing for this all morning.

sunlight pooled through the wide windows, gilding the hardwood floors in a lazy sprawl. the apartment was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of fabric as he adjusted the sheets draped over their couch to protect it from accidental paint smudges.

his art corner—his sanctuary—was usually a little more chaotic, but today, everything was placed with care. he wanted the space to feel right. to feel like it could hold something sacred.

at the center of it all, his easel stood tall, an untouched canvas waiting, patient and expectant.

his brushes were lined up beside it, freshly cleaned, their wooden handles smooth beneath his fingertips as he traced over them absentmindedly. next to them sat his palette, dappled with early mixes of color—soft beiges, warm caramels, a whisper of rose.

he had mixed those shades by memory alone. he knew the way she looked under sunlight, the way her skin carried warmth like a secret.

now, all he needed was her.

the guy straightened, glancing toward the hallway just as she appeared, wrapped in one of his oversized sweaters.

his breath caught.

she always stole his clothes, and he always let her. he liked the way she looked in them—how the sleeves hung past her wrists, how the fabric swallowed her just enough to make her look small, but never lost. she looked comfortable. at home. and something about that made his chest ache in the best way.

"you done?" she asked, voice still laced with sleep, soft and warm at the edges.

he smiled.

"almost," he murmured, crossing the room. his hands found her waist instinctively, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his sweater, tracing over her skin. "but first, let’s make you comfortable."

she raised an eyebrow, "is that an excuse to undress me?"

"partly."

she rolled her eyes, but there was no real protest as he gently peeled the sweater off her, leaving her in just a simple tank top and shorts.

hyunjin hummed in approval, fingers trailing over her shoulders, brushing against her collarbone.

"perfect," he murmured.

she let out a soft laugh, tilting her head. "you haven’t even posed me yet."

he smiled, but he didn’t answer right away. instead, he took her hand, guiding her toward the chair he had placed near the window—where the sunlight would catch her just right.

"i want you to be natural," he said softly. "just be comfortable. let me see you the way i always do."

she settled into the chair, shifting slightly, and he stepped back, studying her.

he had painted people before. strangers, muses, faces he barely knew but found interesting enough to capture. but this—this was different. this wasn’t just painting a face. this was capturing a feeling. a presence.

his fingers twitched, itching to start.

she watched him, tilting her head slightly. "how do you want me?"

he swallowed. his gaze softened.

"just like that," he murmured.

she held still, trusting him, and something in his chest tightened.

slowly, he stepped closer, fingertips grazing her cheek, tilting her head just slightly. his thumb traced the curve of her jaw, lingering at the hinge where her pulse thrummed beneath his touch. then, his hands drifted down, adjusting the way her shoulders rested, the way her hands settled in her lap. every movement was careful, reverent.

"there," he breathed. "stay like that."

she held his gaze, steady and sure. "okay."

he let out a slow exhale, stepping back. his hands found his brushes, and then, finally, he began.

the first strokes were light, tentative. the foundation of something much bigger. his focus narrowed, the world outside of this moment falling away. it was just her and the canvas, and the quiet, steady rhythm of his breathing.

he traced the shape of her first—soft lines, delicate curves. her shoulders, the slope of her neck, the gentle angles of her collarbones. then, slowly, he worked his way up—capturing the arch of her brow, the fullness of her lips, the way the light kissed her skin.

hyunjin didn’t just see her—he felt her.

every touch of paint was a memory, every brushstroke an echo of the way he adored her. the way she looked when she laughed, when she was lost in thought, when she reached for him in the middle of the night, half-asleep but seeking.

she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

and now, she would live on his canvas, exactly as he saw her.

...minutes melted into hours.

the apartment existed in a bubble of stillness, broken only by the soft drag of bristles against canvas and the occasional shift of fabric as she adjusted her posture. hyunjin barely noticed time slipping through his fingers; he was lost in the rhythm of creation, in the steady pull of something deep and unspoken.

she remained patient, quiet but present, watching him work.

at some point, she broke the silence. "you’re really taking your time with this."

he didn’t look away from the canvas, but a small smile played at his lips. "of course. you deserve to be painted slowly."

her lips parted slightly, caught off guard. then she exhaled a soft laugh. "that might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said."

his gaze flickered to her then, his brush hovering midair. "i say romantic things all the time."

she hummed. "you do. but that one made my heart flutter a little."

hyunjin grinned. "good."

he went back to painting, his eyes flickering between her and the canvas. the room had dimmed slightly, the sun lower now, casting long golden streaks across the floor. the light touched her cheekbones in a way that made him pause, his fingers tightening around the brush.

"hold still," he murmured, stepping closer.

she obeyed, but her brows lifted slightly in curiosity.

hyunjin reached out, fingertips barely brushing the corner of her mouth. he tilted her chin, his touch featherlight, tracing the outline of her lips with nothing but air between them.

"you have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" he murmured.

her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. "w—"

"you don’t," he cut in gently, thumb ghosting over her bottom lip before he stepped back. "you’re always so effortlessly perfect, and you don’t even realize it. that’s why i want to paint you. so you can see yourself the way i do."

a moment passed.

she swallowed, something unreadable flickering across her face. then, softly, "i don’t think anyone has ever looked at me the way you do."

hyunjin’s throat tightened.

he knew he was staring too much, that his emotions were slipping into the air between them, heavy and unguarded. but he couldn’t help it.

"i love you," he said simply.

her lips parted again, but this time, she didn’t try to deflect. she just let the words settle, her eyes softening as a slow, glowing smile spread across her face.

"i love you too."

he inhaled deeply, letting it fill his chest. then, shaking off the moment before he could get too distracted, he gestured toward the canvas. "now stay still, my muse. i have work to do."

she giggled, settling back into position.

hyunjin returned to his easel, but his mind was still full of her.

brushstroke after brushstroke, he captured the softness of her gaze, the delicate slope of her nose, the warmth in her expression. he mixed colors carefully, making sure her skin glowed the way it did under sunlight, the way it did when she laughed, the way it did when she looked at him like he was the only thing in the world.

hours passed like this—soft conversations, lazy teasing, moments of silence that weren’t empty but full of something warm and steady.

eventually, she sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "hyun, my legs are falling asleep."

he blinked, coming back to reality. "oh—wait, don’t move yet."

she groaned playfully. "i’m dying."

"you’re not dying."

"i might be."

hyunjin laughed, but he set his brush down, stepping closer again. he crouched in front of her, hands gliding up her legs, massaging gently. "here," he murmured. "better?"

she melted instantly. "mmm. yeah."

his thumbs pressed into her calves, slow and firm. "you were so patient for me," he murmured. "thank you."

she peeked down at him, her fingers threading through his hair. "always."

he exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes briefly at her touch. then, without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her knee. just because he wanted to.

she stilled slightly, then her fingers curled against his scalp.

"hyunjin."

he looked up, his hands still resting on her legs. "yeah?"

her gaze softened. "can i see it?"

his heart did something funny in his chest.

he stood, suddenly nervous, rubbing the back of his neck. "it’s not finished yet."

she reached for his hand, squeezing gently. "that’s okay."

he hesitated, then nodded. slowly, he stepped aside, letting her stand and move toward the easel.

her eyes widened slightly.

for a long moment, she said nothing, just taking it in.

he chewed on his lip, waiting. "do you like it?"

she turned to him then, and he almost staggered back at the look on her face.

she wasn’t just smiling. she wasn’t just admiring.

she was looking at him the way he looked at her.

like he was something to be treasured.

like she had never felt so loved in her entire life.

"hyunjin," she breathed. "it’s… it’s beautiful."

hyunjin let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

then, before he could say anything, she was in his arms, burying herself into his chest, wrapping around him like she belonged there.

he closed his eyes, arms curling around her, holding her impossibly close.

"it’s you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "exactly the way i see you."

and that was all he had ever wanted to do.

...she didn’t let go.

even when the painting stood in front of her like a quiet confession, even when her eyes were still drinking in every delicate brushstroke, she couldn’t bring herself to step away from her lover.

instead, she pressed her face into his chest, arms tightening around his waist.

hyunjin chuckled, his palm smoothing over her back. "baby," he murmured. "aren’t you gonna keep looking?"

"i’ve seen enough," she mumbled, voice muffled against his sweater. "it’s too much."

his brows furrowed slightly. "too much?"

she nodded, inhaling deeply—his scent, the warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "hyunjin, my boyfriend, the love of my life, the most dramatic artist to ever exist—"

he snorted. "oh, here we go."

"—has painted me with so much love that i might actually pass out. and it's-"

hyunjin grinned, resting his chin atop her head. "please don’t pass out. i’d have to catch you, and we’d both go down, and then you’d blame me."

"i would. because it would be your fault."

he hummed. "i love how you admit it so easily."

she lifted her head slightly, just enough to peek up at him. her eyes were still shimmering, lined with something fragile. but her lips curled, soft and fond.

"hyunjin, you love me so much," she whispered.

his breath hitched.

he wasn’t sure what it was—maybe the way she said it, like a realization, like an overwhelming truth she was only just coming to terms with. maybe the way she was looking at him, wide-eyed and almost awed, as if she couldn’t believe how much love she was receiving.

but something inside him ached.

he lifted a hand to cup her cheek, brushing his thumb over her skin. "of course i do," he murmured. "you didn’t know?"

she swallowed, her lashes fluttering. "i did— but i didn't think it'd be this.. much!"

"then why do you look like you’re about to cry?"

her lip wobbled. "because—because i love you so much too, and you just—you love me so much, hyunjin, it’s ridiculous."

his heart squeezed.

and then she was rambling, as if the words couldn’t come out fast enough, as if they’d been sitting in her chest, waiting for this moment.

"my boyfriend loves me so much that he paints me like i’m the most precious thing in the world," she whispered, blinking rapidly. "my boyfriend loves me so much that he stares at me like i’m art before i even become art."

the guy bit his lip, trying to fight the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"my boyfriend loves me so much that he took hours to mix the perfect shade for my skin, because he wanted me to glow exactly the way i do in his eyes. my boyfriend loves me so much that he barely blinked the entire time, like he was memorizing me all over again."

she sniffled, voice wobbling. "my boyfriend loves me so much—"

hyunjin burst into laughter.

she gasped, offended. "hyunjin!"

"i’m sorry," he wheezed, pressing his forehead against hers, shoulders shaking. "you’re just—" another laugh bubbled out of him. "you’re so cute, baby. you’re literally giving a whole monologue right now."

her cheeks burned. "it’s not my fault! i’m emotional!"

he softened instantly, his laughter fading into something gentler. "i know," he murmured, tilting her chin up. "i love that you are."

she huffed, her lips pursing, but her eyes were still damp. "well, you did this. this is your fault."

"yeah?" his thumb brushed over her cheek, catching the faintest trace of moisture. "then let me take responsibility."

and before she could say anything else, he kissed her.

soft. slow. full of everything he couldn’t put into words.

her hands curled into his sweater, and he felt her melt, felt her sigh against his lips, felt the warmth of her love spilling into the space between them.

when he pulled back, she blinked up at him, dazed.

"you’re not real," she whispered.

he laughed again, quieter this time. "neither are you."

she exhaled, leaning in to press her face into the crook of his neck.

for a long moment, they just stood there, wrapped up in each other, the painting forgotten in the background.

then, in a whisper—"thank you."

he smiled, his arms tightening around her. "you don’t have to thank me."

"yes, i do." she pulled back just enough to look at him. "for painting me. for looking at me like that. for loving me like this."

his heart swelled.

he kissed her forehead. "always."

she sighed dreamily, resting against his chest again.

and just like that, time slowed.

there was no rush, no urgency—just them, bathed in the golden remnants of daylight, wrapped in love, in laughter, in warmth.

just them, in their little world, where hyunjin’s brush had captured her beauty, but his love had captured her heart.

⤿ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝘵𝑒𝑟𝘵𝑎𝑔. @its-stayville-forever @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @shotngun @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan @ashtxrie @minlixyaoi @shuuporanglinos — fill out this form to be added !! ✶

comments, likes, asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! req. are officially closed till the month of june. thank you for reading, hope you liked it <3

[pisceanfilm]

⋆ ｡  𐀔  ° ‧     what type of celebrity would you be?

PICK A GIF AND DISCOVER... why do your fans admire you? what makes your energy so captivating? would there be any scandals? 🤭 a fun reading to see what type of celebrity you'd be!

                      ꕤ * ．   pile one.           →           ꕤ * ． pile two.

                      ꕤ * ． pile three.           →           ꕤ * ． pile four.

relax your body, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. ask yourself: "which pile has a message for me today?" when you open your eyes, what image did your eyes fall on? what image do you feel most drawn to energetically? that's your pile!

this reading is timeless! it will cross your path whenever it's meant to find you 🍀 this reading was made with the purpose of giving you a confidence boost! perhaps this energy will inspire you to channel your inner star 💫 you deserve to be seen and admired, that's for sure!

PILE # 01 : JENNIE

you walk into a room and people just sense your stardom. you command respect, but not in an imposing way. no, you do so quietly (from a place of utter self-love and self-respect) and people admire you even more for this! you're quite smart, you play the game well. i see that you can be very strategic and easily sense people's intentions with you. this is your gift! your intuition will always lead you down the road of success. you'd have an unshakeable sense of self, yet are always ready to evolve and be ahead of the curve. no one would do it like you, that's for sure! (i'm hearing that you don't even play the game, you make the rules. definitely it-girl/a-lister vibes!!)

you have the energy of someone who'd be a great influencer! you're a trendsetter, you'd wear/promote something and the following week 50 micro-influencers are wearing the exact same outfit. people would have pinterest boards filled with your pictures!! i'm hearing that you could sell scraps of paper and people would still fight for it just because your name is associate with it... your fans would be very passionate about you, writing essays in the comments defending you 😭 but i also see that you'd be the type of celebrity that people just know. if you were a singer, for example, even if people didn't know your songs they would still recognise your beautiful face<3

it's very lonely at the top, though. i'm sensing this pile might be a little bit more sensitive, and it makes me feel very protective over you 😭 it's funny because i see this pile being disillusioned by fame very quickly. you'd hate the backstabbing, the hit pieces, the superficialness of those around you (despite loving your craft). there could be fears of being misunderstood, the pressure of perfectionism weighing heavy on you... you're born to be a star, but the way everyone wants a piece of you doesn't feel quite right...

channeled message based off of this energy:

spirit wants you to know that you can be your authentic self. your voice and words will resonate with so many people!! if you want to be a content creator of any type (or if you want to create/become an artist), i see that your path to fame won't be paved by anyone else before you. no, your path is unique. you should follow your own intuition when it comes to your career and do what feels most aligned, because no class or mentor will provide you with any meaningful answers 😭 while this path might appear isolating and frustrating, make sure not to drown yourself in loneliness. don't compare yourself to others when you're meant to be on a whole different level! just focus on your own projects and development, and things will align the way they're meant to be!

PILE # 02 : SABRINA

oh, you're so incredibly charming<33 you smile and people just fall at your feet! they can't help but feel giddy and swoon at even a fraction of your attention... the power you hold, pile 2! you're a force to be reckoned with, i heard this very clearly... as a celebrity i see you being very determined to succeed. you have your eyes set on the prize and you refuse to back down. you're the type who built themselves from the ground up, and this is something to be proud of! your hard work paid off and everything you earned would be rightfully deserved.

people might have the tendency to underestimate you, though. they look at you and think you're harmless... but then you go and prove them wrong by blowing them away with your talent... you made them look like a damn fool for ever doubting you, that's for sure 😔</3 i love the energy of an underdog here, it makes people want to root for you!! when people first look at you, they might not expect you to be as talented as you are. so when you finally show them what you're made of, they're just absolutely dumbfounded that they didn't notice you earlier. i see you playing into this misconception and using it to your advantage, though! i just heard elle woods say: "what, like it's hard?" loveeee this

your fans would absolutely adore you, fanservice would be something that's very natural to you! i don't see you hating this either, you really enjoy casual interactions with people who support you. you'd be a very grounded celebrity, too!! you don't let the fame or the money get to your head, because you know where you started and how long it took you to get to the top. you don't lose yourself in the chaos or the hate or any fears... quite the opposite, actually!! you use it as an opportunity to get even stronger and wiser! love this attitude<3

channeled message based off of this energy:

this pile is very lucky because i'm seeing many (unexpected) blessings heading your way! your next era in life? sitting back comfortably while you watch your heart's desires unfold in front of you. i see a big manifestation coming in, your hard work finally paying off!! very abundant energy, i'm very excited for you<3 spirit wants you to know that you've earned these blessings, that you've come a long way from where you were before. this period of your life is really about thriving rather than surviving. very beautiful energy!! (i also heard that, if you're facing any issues, that they will resolve themselves. just trust your guides and watch how your problems disappear into thin air!)

PILE # 03 : LILY-ROSE

ohhh, you'd definitely be an enigma! people will love this about you, but it will also frustrate them. you have strong boundaries about what the public is allowed to know about you. (i'm sensing vibes of not having any big social media presence, being annoyed at interviewers when they ask intrusive questions about your personal life rather than the project you worked so hard on, no one knowing who you're dating, etc...) yet you're always invited (having front row seats, mind you) to all the big events. (your fans might receive scraps from you but... if they do get something, they absolutely devour it!! even in 2025 they wouldn't be able to shut up about that beautiful haute couture dress you wore in 2021 😭)

there's a sense of intrigue and mystery surrounding you, because no one knows a thing about you yet everyone is always captivated by you. i'm sensing siren/dark feminine type of energy. very seductive! you teasingly play things off with a shrug and a million dollar smile like "wouldn't you like to know?" you'll never reveal yourself to them because 1.) you loooove being seen as a mystery 2.) you find it absolutely hilarious to keep people guessing and 3.) they don't deserve this type of access to you.

people never know your next move and this is your power. i see people really admiring your talent (and knowledge)! you're the authentic celebrity where you're in it for the love of the art rather than the fame and the fortune (even if it's a nice bonus!). you're the type of celebrity that studies the history of whatever field you're in and are well versed in different genres, admiring and respecting many great figures who came before you. you don't care about what people think of you as long as you are satisfied with the outcome of your project. this is very mature and attractive energy!

channeled message based off of this energy:

you're hard to read, i won't lie to you 😭 if you've been working on setting boundaries i really see that this is something incredibly beneficial. you're comfortable in your own energy, and this is very seductive! if you have the tendency to be overly critical of yourself, i'm hearing spirit say that you might need to be less demanding and kinder towards your body. you have a tough outer shell, i don't think you're the type to easily open up to people. this is a good thing! just make sure that you aren't pushing people out who mean well. you can be vulnerable with the right people and have it be a safe experience!! you deserve to be taken care of (i'm feeling like i just want to pamper you) and experience the softness of life!!

PILE # 04 : SHAY

you'd definitely be your celebrity's favourite celebrity! you move in silence, but once you make a sound... boy, people are ready to drop everything in order to pay attention and listen! your fame isn't bombastic or over-the-top. it doesn't need to be, because people respect you. you command respect through your raw authenticity. you're not a manufactured doll who needs to put on a whole spiel in order to appear interesting. you don't need to do this because your talent speaks for itself. this is very potent energy!

what i'm picturing is a musician standing on stage with only a microphone and a guitar. you don't need a big show or any grand gestures to capture people's attention, they're willing to give it to you just because you're you. you might have striking features, i'm sensing there's a beauty about you that's just sooooo mesmerising. (i'm feeling like i want to get lost in your eyes... feeling a bit shy...)

people would absolutely root for you (i'm sensing the vibe of people being absolutely outraged if you happen to lose a grammy or an oscar or whatever prestigious award 😭 and it's not just your fandom, several different fandoms would be banding together to express their anger). this is simply because they know you're the best of the best. you worked hard for everything you achieved, you don't need scandals to keep your name relevant, and you always show up! this is what people love most about you, the fact that you always show up at the top of your game without any complaints<33 you paved the way for everyone behind you, too!

channeled message based off of this energy:

god, i wouldn't be surprised if this pile went through hell and back. i really see you coming back stronger every time something (or someone) tries to bring you down. nothing fazes you anymore, you just take it on the chin and move on. spirit is telling me that difficult times are about to end soon!! you will find peace and you will find comfort within yourself (and your environment). i'm hearing so clearly that you always got your own back, but spirit wants you to know that they got your back as well! you're born to succeed simply because of who you are. once you truly embody what you know you deserve, i see so many opportunities bringing you great abundance!! know that you don't have to fight so hard to get what you want, practice being in a state of receiving rather than chasing<33

[ashwhowrites]

Can you do angst # 26 a bit of a longer fic where Eddie and reader have been married for a couple years and as the years go on the reader starts to feel neglected in their relationship because of him prioritizing his band (or any job you write in). She comes to a breaking point after he overhears a convo on the phone that she has with a coworker and gets jealous, and they get into a fight where she says he's not the person she married or how she feels alone in their relationship. You can decide the end ( if eddie redeems himself or this could be the end of them)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️

A new you

“You’re not the same person I married, don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

The dream was for Eddie's career to take off after they got married. Y/N wanted to get married and try for kids before he had to pack up and travel around the world. Everything was going perfectly in the beginning, they were happy and constantly trying for a baby.

But once the band got their name in the stars, Y/N realized her and their marriage got set on the back burner. Eddie spent all his hours in the studio, or at home in his music room as the door was closed. And when the door was closed, that meant Y/N couldn't disturb him.

At first, she didn't want to do anything about it. It was new and exciting and she understood it took a lot of Eddie's time and energy. But months turned into years and now they sat in a marriage that felt like roommates. She missed her husband, she missed his time, his touch and him.

She was hurt she got pushed aside and it hurt even more that they hadn't tried for a baby in months. He has been so caught up with the band that he barely was home, and when he was, it was to drop in bed and be gone by morning. She missed the way their relationship used to be. Back when he looked at her with love and wanted to be with her. Now it seemed he could care less about her.

She tried to talk to him about it but it was nearly impossible. She was at the break of giving up. The thought of leaving him behind and moving on. It was clear he didn't have any mind to save the marriage. Hell, he probably didn't notice it was drowning to begin with. The longer it went on, the more lonely she felt.

"Hey, Eddie?" She whispered, his body next to hers as they lay separately in the bed.

"Hm?" He mumbled, half asleep as his head was buried in the pillows.

"Can you take some time off from the band? Maybe a weekend and we can go off somewhere together?" She asked, rolling over to face him. His eyes weren't open, but the lack of snores told her he was still awake.

"Sure, honey. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

She wasn't shocked that the conversation never happened. It was like he lived a whole different world on his side of the bed. She was close enough to touch him, yet she almost felt like it wasn't her place. She hated that she felt conflicted about wanting to kiss or touch her husband. But anytime she tried, it ended with him pushing her off and her feeling stupid for trying.

She was stuck in a one-sided relationship and she had no idea what to do.

~~~

"I'm going to grab dinner tonight with a co-worker so I might not be home when you are," she explained as she dressed herself. Eddie hummed from the bathroom, spitting out his toothpaste as he half-listened.

"Would you like me to bring you back something?" She asked, walking into the bathroom. She admired how he looked as he brushed his teeth. His messy hair and shirtless chest. She bit her lip as she slowly walked closer to him, the desire to be touched by him was increasing.

"No, I'll send someone to grab something," he shrugged, barely noticing her body as he walked past her and out of the bathroom.

"Or I could bring something to you before I go? We aren't going until like seven," she offered, following behind him. "Maybe give us a chance to talk?"

Eddie threw on his jeans as he looked at her, confused. "Why would you do that?"

She sighed as she tried to remain calm. "Because I'm your wife, Eddie. I'd like to have time with you."

"Look I don't have time for this conversation again. If you stop by, cool. If you don't, that's cool too. But I have to go. Have fun at dinner."

Without a kiss, he went right out the door.

~

Y/N held her stomach as she tried not to fall out of her chair laughing. Her insides were all clenched as she gasped for air.

"I truly didn't think I was that funny," Logan laughed as he watched her dry her tears.

She calmed herself down, wiping the tears that leaked as she took a big sigh. As the laughter died, she realized how good it felt. She hadn't laughed in what felt like forever. Eddie was the funniest person she'd ever met, but she couldn't remember the last time he cared to make her crack a smile. The thought changed her mood slightly, Logan fast to pick up on it.

"You okay?" He asked, sipping on his glass of wine as she prepared to lie. But she wanted to say it, she needed to clear her brain and maybe she'll sleep better at night.

Within seconds she was spiraling. Telling Logan all about her marriage. How it started so beautifully and how she wished she could do anything to get it back.

Even when he treated her like she was nothing, she wished it was him sitting across from her.

~

She sighed as she walked into the quiet house. Eddie's car was nowhere in the driveway. She was tempted to drive herself to the studio but she knew that would do nothing in her favor. She climbed into the empty bed, trying to blink away the tears as she fell asleep.

~~~

After dinner with Logan, he asked her to go a few more times. They exchanged their numbers and she spent most of her time talking to him as she waited all night for Eddie to come home. She appreciated having a friend.

~

"Friday? I mean I should be free. What did you want to do?" Y/N asked, phone against her ear as she scrubbed the dishes.

Eddie slipped into the house, checking his watch as he set down his guitar case. Another late night, he planned to go straight to bed but he heard talking and movement from the kitchen. He was surprised Y/N was still awake.

"I mean, that restaurant is beautiful, and I've always wanted to go. But isn't it a bit romantic?" She asked

Eddie's ears perked up, close enough to hear a man speaking on the other line.

"So? I think you deserve a little romance in your life."

Before Y/N had the chance to say something, or acknowledge Eddie's presence, Eddie was grabbing the phone and hanging it up.

"Edward!" Y/N scolded, reaching for her phone but Eddie shoved it in his back pocket.

"Who the fuck was that?" He asked, clearly fuming.

"Logan, from work," Y/N answered

"Why is Logan wanting to take you out? Uh? Doesn't he know you're married?"

Y/N couldn't help but scuff. "He does, do you?"

"What does that mean?" Eddie asked

"Maybe if you made time to talk to me, you'd understand," she said as she brushed past him. But he was right about her tail. Crazy how he suddenly was wide awake and interested in her.

"Talking right now aren't we?"

Y/N began to angrily make the bed. "No, now it's an argument. You have been ignoring me, abandoning me for that stupid band. I made a friend, it's not my fault he happens to be interested in hanging out with me. Why would I say no? So I can enjoy another lonely night on the couch wondering why my husband hates me?" She took a deep breath as she tried to remain calm.

"Oh don't be dramatic, hate you? Of course, I don't hate you!" Eddie fought, "and you have other friends! Don't you think it's inappropriate for him to ask you somewhere romantic?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, smacking the pillows down. "So yeah, it might be a little inappropriate. Would I let it go somewhere inappropriate? Absolutely not. But maybe this is the wake-up call you need. Because Eddie, the way we are going, I don't want that for my future."

"You don't want me in your future?" Eddie asked, slightly hurt as she sat on the bed.

"I do! But the old Eddie. You’re not the same person I married, and don’t tell me I’m wrong. You are completely different and I'm unhappy," Y/N explained. She looked down at the ring on her finger, "We were supposed to make a family, Eddie."

Eddie felt his anger melting away as she held herself. "We can still have a family, baby." He said softly as he walked over.

"Don't bother lying to me because I'm so close to being done," Y/N bitterly laughed. She ignored his body as he sat across from her, placing a hand on her knees.

"I'm not lying! But you knew this was the dream when we got married."

"FUCK THE DREAM, EDDIE!" She yelled as she stood up. "You have been living the dream for years. What about mine? What about the kids and the big house? You knew my dream when we got married! But mine is not as important? You're different and I hate it."

"Oh, so you hate who I am?" Eddie scoffed, standing up. "I didn't purposely ignore your dream; it's just mine. I was on the tracks and already going. I'm sorry I got caught up in it. I'm guilty of that."

"Yes I do, Eddie!" She spat, staring into his darkening eyes, "I hate this version of you. I want my husband back. The guy who loved me and couldn't breathe without me. You used to love me like crazy, we were never apart. You used to take care of me, hold my hand, and open every door. I used to feel so fixed in your arms, Eddie," she cried, "now? This is the longest we've seen each other in months. Are you seeing someone? Or did you just wake up one day and decide you hated your life with me?"

"Someone else? You really think I'm seeing someone else?" Eddie scoffed, "I'd never do that and I can't believe you think I would. And especially after your new friend asked you on a fucking date!"

"What am I supposed to think? We haven't had sex in months! What happened? We used to have no issues with intimacy. And now we have nothing. Are you not attracted to me anymore? Is that the problem?"

"You're supposed to think I'm loyal and that I'm exactly where I said I would be. I've been at the studio working my ass off. So I'm tired when I come home. I still think you are the most gorgeous woman I've seen, but I'm exhausted when I come home, and I don't want sex."

"What's the point of a marriage if you only care to be at the studio? Hell, move out and live in the damn fucking place." She spat, "I'm done being pushed aside. I'm not going to put effort into a relationship with you when you don't even care to be in it." She cried.

Eddie tried to blink away his own tears as he watched her cry. "So do you want a divorce? Because I don't. It's clear I've fucked up, and I need to work on many things, but in no way do I want to let you go," He asked, his voice cracking as the reality of the question made his insides clench. He hated himself for getting to this point. All he had to do was love her the way she deserved.

"I don't want to leave, and I don't want you to leave. But I need you to be that way again. Please just love me like you used to," she sobbed. Eddie couldn't stop the silent tears that fell down his face as he stood and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cried, "I don't want either of us to leave, baby. I love you, so fucking much," he kissed her head. "I'm going to fix this. I'm going to put you and this marriage first. The exact way it should be."

"Can we talk about it in the morning? I just want to sleep next to you," she cried. Eddie softly moved them to the bed, wrapping his arms around her.

She melted into his arms, enjoying the feeling that she hadn't felt in so long. She wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring. If he'd wake up a changed man or wake up the same. She wasn't sure if her marriage was being saved or going under. But right now she felt at home in his arms and that's what she needed for the night.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[cherryyluvs]

Little Notes, Big Feelings

Notes in your locker, simple, and anonymous. A little bit sweet. You never expected Mark Grayson confessing that he likes you. ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

It started with a note, neatly folded and tucked in between the vents of your locker. Just barely sticking out and impossible to miss.

You were half asleep still rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes. grabbing the little slip of paper “Pop quiz in Johnson's class today. Hope you studied. (I didn't, Whoops.)"

You blinked at it, turning it over just to see no name, no clue on who wrote it. Just a simple, neat handwriting, and a tiny smiling doodle of Seance dog in the corner. You glanced around the busy hallway, scanning faces. But no one seemed to be watching you. Just students going to their class, laughing with their friends, and stuffing books into their bags.

Weird. But sweet.

After that notes kept coming, little messages that made you smile. “Did you see the new episode of Seance Dog? Crazy right?” Other times they would be personal. “You looked really happy today.” You kept every single one, tucking them into your notebook like they were little treasures. You found yourself looking forward to them, and you wanted to know them too. So one afternoon you decided to write back, slipping a note into your own locker. Leaving it right where the mysterious writer had been placing theirs. “Okay, secret admirer, your turn. Who are you?”

The next morning a reply was waiting. “If i tell you. It ruins the fun doesn't it?” You let out a huff, fine.

If they wanted to play, you’d play. The back and forth went on for weeks! You had asked what their favorite color was (Yellow but sometimes blue) . Some were rants about a new superhero sighting or how the cafeteria’s chicken nuggets are a danger to society. “The cafeteria nuggets are definitely a health hazard. Stay safe out there”

There's a response the next morning, “RIGHT?? I'm glad someone gets it. Also I can neither confirm or deny that I saw one of those nuggets move.” The messages became part of your daily routine, a little secret, something that made the school day a little brighter.

And one day you found a note that made your heart drop.

“Would it be weird if i said i kinda like you?” Your fingers trembled slightly as you held the small piece of paper. This wasn't just playful anymore, this is real. At this point you needed to know who it was.

You waited, keeping an eye out at your locker, hoping to catch them in the act. Whoever they were, they were good at being sneaky. So you tried a different approach.

You left a note in return, simple and direct. “Not weird. Kind of sweet, but I think i'd like it more if I knew who you were.”

The next day there was no note, and after that, nothing. Your heart sank, had you scared them off? Had they changed their mind? It gnawed at you, making you realize just how much these silly little notes meant to you.

And then it finally happened. You were at your locker, gathering books for your next class, when a voice behind you cleared their throat. “Uh… hey.” You turned around to face the stranger and there he was. Mark Grayson, moving nervously on his feet, his easygoing confidence nowhere to be found. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes but you could see the pink creeping on his cheeks.

It clicked instantly. The handwriting on the notes, the way he always looked in your direction in class when you weren't paying attention. Mark, who was sweet and awkward, always rambling about comics and superhero movies.

“You're-”

He exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for days. “Yeah it's me.” Your heart fluttered, warmth flooding into your chest.

Mark Grayson, you'd noticed him, you never thought if he had noticed you but he had. And for a long time apparently, “So.. was that too weird? He asked hesitantly. “I can stop if-” You shook your head, a small smile creeping onto your face.

Pulling out a pen from your purse and grabbing his wrist, before he could question it, you scribbled onto his palm.

“No, not weird at all.” When he read it, his entire face lit up.

[alexrosa13]

Today's Catch

Xavier; Zayne; Rafayel; Sylus; Caleb x female!reader

Genre: fluff/angsty?

Warnings: 650-1000 words, mc!reader, Tomorrow's Catch-22 universe! characters behavior differs/may differ from their canon game one!, reader having hair mentioned (Sylus;Caleb)

Note: I had to write something for it finally since I managed to get all 5 cards on this banner 💜

for masterlist and request info head to the navigation →

Do you think we are together in every universe..?

"How could you hide it all from me?" you asked with hurt in your voice, staring straight into his innocent looking blue orbs "Everything I know about you is a lie? Everything that happened between us wasn't real for even a second?!" you took a step forward, standing face to face with him, his usual emotionless expression turned into something sad for a split second.

"No. Everything that happened between us was real to me." he said, still composed despite the situation he was in, but he couldn't lie: the sight of your hurt made him feel guilty.

"You helped me all this time, gained my trust, my..." love... you bit your tongue unable to say those words out loud "Just to vanish without a trace one day, leaving me behind. Am I nothing to you?!" you spit out words full of rage and disappointment.

You needed answers. Either you get them today or you will be the one leaving him behind.

"You're everything to me." he said, still with that innocent, clueless voice. Was he really that oblivious to the situation he found himself in?

You stared into his eyes, looking for answers, for the slightest hint of lies, unable to find any as always.

"You wanted to leave, then go. Go and don't come back if that's what you wish for. Don't play with me Xavier." you moved past him, ready to simply take your bag and leave the safehouse, if he didn't want to give you answers then he's not worth your time.

Suddenly he reached for your elbow, pulling you back towards him, forceful but mindful of his strength.

"I don't want to leave. Not now, not ever. I want to stay with you." he said while holding you to his chest, your bodies planted flat together, your face tilted upwards to look up at him.

"I don't know if I can trust you anymore. I don't even know you." your eyes watered from frustration.

"But you do, I'm just Xavier." he said calmly still not letting you leave his embrace despite you not reciprocating it.

"You're also Hermit - an SSS class preadator, and Philo's heir." you spit out quietly, refusing to lift your head again to look at him.

"But to you I'm just Xavier." you scoffed under your breath.

"Well then Xavier, please, enlighten me - why are you trying so hard to keep me here. Why do you care so much about whether I'll disappear from your life or not." it didn't sound like a question, maybe because you didn't want to hear the answers? Or maybe because you didn't want to hear another short and dismissive ones, or maybe you already knew them?

"Because I can't bear to be apart from you. Please don't leave me." finally you looked up at him, those cute, puppy eyes stared right back at you, his gaze felt like a manipulation try, too innocent, too pure for someone as dangerous as him.

"You're the one who wanted to leave me." you said, still hurt from the truth you discovered.

"But I don't want to leave you anymore, please don't do this to me."

"What do you want from me Xavier?!" you finally exploded, pushing at his chest to let you go.

Standing now at an arm length distance you continued to stare into his eyes, fuming inside.

"You." he simply said, unfazed by your outburst.

"What?" your expression turned from anger to confusion.

"I want you." how could he say that while looking like it didn't mean anything? Like it was obvious?

"Xavier you can't be serio-" your voice got stuck in your throat seeing him take a step towards you.

"I am." he looked straight into your eyes. His hand pulled you towards him once again, while his head tilted down, your faces at almost the same level, lips almost touching.

"Xavier-" your voice shook.

"Please. I'll let you know me, whatever you want, just please don't leave me." he begged, sounding like a kicked puppy.

"You-" you said through your teeth, arm coming up to hang around his neck, free hand catching his arm "Please don't make me regret it." your lips touched his harshly.

Not wasting another moment he reciprocated, hands pulling you even closer, clinging to your body, deepening the kiss that both of you craved for so long.

You were gone. Too deep in your feelings to let go of him, even if it'll get you hurt in the end, you want to enjoy his affection while it lasts.

You sat down on the cold cement before the clinic, Zayne following you soon after. Both of you thinking and simply enjoying the other's presence; the presence you'll come to miss soon enough.

Despite the confidence you had in your goals and ideas you had to admit that leaving him is probably the hardest part of taking the next step in life.

Who will you go to if your turtle becomes sick? Who will you go to when you'll become sick?

Who will you go to just to simply talk with another human being who listens.

"Do you think I'm naive?" you asked while continuing staring at the barely working street lamp.

"And stubborn." he deadpanned. You turned to look at him and scoffed.

"Thanks. That's totally giving me motivation to fight for what I believe in." you said sarcastically, allowing yourself to feel a tiny bit of accomplishment noticing a small grin appearing on his face.

"Add ambitious and reckless and you're going to get a perfect candidate for an enforcer." he turned to look at you, sending him a smile you returned to observing your surroundings.

"You know, I'll miss this place, despite what a shithole it is." you chuckled, feeling a sense of nostalgia over wrapping you while looking at the familiar sights before you.

Not hearing any words from the man sitting next to you, you turned to look at him once again, your eyes met the profile of his face basked in the soft light coming from the street lamps.

"And more than anything I'll miss you..." you mumbled under your nose, your voice not loud enough to cut through the sounds of the night life. His head slowly turned your way, his expression not giving you any hint of his thoughts and feelings as usual.

"What was that?"

"Hm? Nothing." you said quickly, not even bothering to try and appear as if you really didn't say anything.

You heard a quiet chuckle escaping him, instantly your face softened up at the sound you didn't hear often.

You didn't even notice the moment you began staring at him, soft smile appearing on your lips, face free from any worries.

Nor did you notice when his eyes focused on you, watching the way you observed him, stuck in your own world, peaceful.

'I'll miss you too.' he thought, but saying it out loud would make your parting harder than it already is.

"It's about time I go." you said, trying to keep up your unbothered attitude, but couldn't manage to hide your sadness from him.

"Take care of yourself." he stood up, reaching out a hand to help you up as well.

You didn't want to admit the way you trembled the moment your palm touched his, praying to whoever listened he didn't notice.

"I'll try my best." you giggled softly, knowing that the moment you'll lose the sight of him will be a painful goodbye.

Not taking your eyes off him you took a step back, but you miscalculated the distance between the sidewalk and road, your foot stumbling down the short inches of difference, sending your body down fast, your hands reached out in hopes of finding something to hold onto, but you only managed to catch thin air.

Letting out a gasp of panic you mentally prepared yourself to hit the hard asphalt, but the pain never came, instead you found yourself in a tight embrace of Zayne's. It was the first time you found yourself so close to him.

Your hands grasp onto his bicep, breath trying to calm down, your heart beating in your ears.

Your eyes close, head resting against his torso, while he stays in place with his arms embracing you, giving you the time you need to pull yourself together.

He felt your body shaking slightly, worried you began crying he moved his head to look down at your face, but instead of tears he saw a smile - you were laughing.

He only shook his head in disbelief, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Damn, nice reflexed you got there Doc." your laughter grew louder while you continued holding onto him.

He waited a bit, enjoying having you in his arms even if just for a moment.

Slowly you moved away, leaving the safety of his warm hug.

Your eyes met, you send him a gentle smile, noticing the way his eyes soften while looking at you, unlike his cold gaze from a couple of months ago.

"Well, I really should get going already. C'ya Zayne" you brought two fingers to your forehead in a salute motion, taking careful steps back this time.

You managed to turn around before you froze. Your lips pressing into a thin line while you thought whether or not to risk it all and...

Fuck it.

You turned back to see him still in the same place you left him in, observing you.

"You know what" you tilted your head, watching the way his brows furrowed in confusion. You took a couple steps his way, stopping right in front of him "I cannot leave without one more thing."

Before he could've asked or before you could have back down from your plan you went though with it.

And crashed your lips into his.

His body tensed up for a moment, not knowing what to do.

But you didn't back away.

Slowly he reciprocated your kiss. Not trying to fight it even a little bit.

You stood under the dim light, accompanied by the loud sirens of alarms and screams from a couple streets over.

Not regretting a thing you moved your face away from his.

"I'll miss you Zayne." you chuckled for the last time, child-like happiness overwhelming you.

Giving his hand one last squeeze you turned around to run away in the direction of your now former home.

Leaving him standing there with a grin tugging at his lips.

'You minx.'

After yet another stressful day you came back to your apartment, heading to the kitchen for something to drink you saw Rafayel playing MasterChef preparing God knows what.

"What you cooking there handsome?" he didn't turn your way, but you saw the way his ears changed into a pretty shade of pink, almost hidden away behind the mess of his thick hair.

"Trying to make your favorite." you hummed to let him know you heard him, opening up the fridge.

"What's the occasion?" you took out your favorite drink and turned his way while opening it up.

"Just felt like it." you giggled at his answer taking a sip.

Taking a couple steps towards him you paused right behind his body, putting your chin on his shoulder and looking over at his work.

"How nice of you, spoiling your supervisor." you grinned at the way his face heat up. How could a tough SSS preadator be so cute?

"Stop teasing me."

"Oh? But I'm only letting you know how much I appreciate your efforts!" your grin didn't falter.

"Maybe I put a poison in there to get rid of you." you laughed at his bratty tone. Oh he wouldn't.

Even without him saying it out loud you knew how much he cared for you, the memory remaining lost but feelings not disappearing, simply waiting under a lock to be freed.

"Okay then, I hope you're ready to explain the cause of my death to the LCBI." you whispered playfully into his ear before tapping his waist twice and moving away from him "We're short on your yogurt, I'll take care of that tomorrow." you said while walking away, on your way to your bedroom to change clothes into more comfortable ones.

But you started taking off your shirt before leaving the kitchen, leaving him stunned watching your half naked back adored only by your bra, totally doing that not on purpose, making his face appear even redder.

You changed your clothes as fast as you could and came back to him.

"How's the food, pretty boy?" you asked while fixing up your shirt, unknowingly distracting him from stirring the dish, unfortunately ending in him touching the hot surface and hissing instantly "Rafayel!" in a second you were next to him, holding his burnt hand in yours.

Reaching out you turned the stove off before pulling him towards the sink, turning on the tap you moved his hand to stay under the cool water.

"How did it happen?" you send him a questioning look, he wasn't someone who often managed to get himself hurt (somehow).

"You distracted me." he simply said while observing how the water ran around his pinkish skin.

"I distracted you?" your brows arched, maybe you did that on purpose a couple minutes ago, but not now!

He only looked your way with that expressionless, perfect face of his.

"Well then I apologize for being such a hugeee distraction that you managed to get hurt because of it." you said with sarcasm "Can I do something to redeem myself for being at fault for your pain?" you tilted your head, watching him intensively.

"I can come up with a couple things." he stated, not backing away from the staring war.

You only snorted and reached out to pull his hand away from the stream, bringing it closer to your face for examination.

"It doesn't look that bad, only a little red-ish, you'll live." you said, not caring about the fact his eyes dug a hole in your head.

That was; until you turned back around to face him, suddenly standing way closer to him than a moment ago.

"Rafayel..?" you whispered questionably. Slowly backing away from him, to no avail, since with every small step you took back, he took one forward.

Until your ass met the countertop behind you.

"Rafayel, what are you doing?" you laughed nervously, his eyes staring through you into the depths of your soul.

"Am I just a plaything to you?"

"No, of course not, what are you talking about-" you rushed your answer.

"Then why do you keep playing the game, torturing me everyday with your touch and backing away before I can do something about it? Acting like it doesn't matter." you swallowed hard, feeling your throat closing up with nerves.

"I don't know what you mean-" you shook your head.

You knew exactly what he meant.

"Stop playing." he put his hands on the counter next to your hips, caging your body in between them.

"I'm not." you lost your smile, expression turning into understanding.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, patiently waiting for you to answer, to give him a sign.

Instead of words you gave him something more.

You palms gently held his face while you straighten up your body, your lips catching his in a gesture worth a thousand words.

His body tensed up before slowly relaxing, hands moving from the counter to your hips, holding you close while your lips devoured each other.

Something about it feeling familiar and comforting, like he lived through this moment before, like he already knew the way you taste and how your body feels next to his, fitting perfectly together.

He tried to stop you from pulling back, his lips chasing after yours but failing to remained connected.

"Is that enough of an answer for you?"

"You leave - disappear from the Earth's eye for years! Leaving me by myself, without a single thought about contacting me, about how I'm doing, if I'm still alive! And then you come back like nothing happened after I was worried sick for you, thinking that you followed Wolfe to the afterlife!" you screamed at the white-haired man, pacing around in your small apartment.

You didn't know whether you wanted to jump at him and hug him or jump at him and choke him.

You could do both.

"Where the hell have you been Sylus?! Why didn't you come back for me?!" you finally stopped your movements facing him from the opposite side of the room, staring straight into his blood-colored eyes.

"It was safer for you not to follow into my footsteps." he answered simply, untouched by your angry questioning.

"It wasn't your choice to make!" you screamed, letting out all the emotions.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I had to make sure you were safe." he said softly, allowing you to take the time to calm down and let out your anger at him.

"I-" you started, but your voice cracked before you could continue your monologue.

Your hand went up to brush your hair to the back of your head, heart beating fast, trying to steady your breathing. All this time you wondered how he was doing, if he's still alive, still breathing - if he still thought about you?

And now he was standing right there - alive.

Your feet moved before you could register it, taking you closer to him.

Standing inches away from him you looked straight into his eyes, the softness of the red irises glancing back at you felt so familiar.

"I missed you so much." you sobbed out while laughing, overwhelmed with the things you wanted to say.

Without waiting for a response you clung to his body, arms embracing him in the tightest hug ever.

You felt him gently hugging you back, one hand on your head petting you like a kitten, the other caressing your back, your face stayed squashed to his chest, breathing in his scent.

His always fast beating heart didn't slow down, just as you remembered.

You hated showing your weaknesses, born in a world where only the strongest survives.

But with him it was different - despite you always putting out a brave face for everyone to see, he always saw through it, knowing you like no one else.

"Will you leave again?" Will you leave me again? your muffled by his shirt voice met his ears.

"Not planning on it, sweetie." empty promises? Maybe, but even if only for a moment, they brought you a sense of peace.

You looked up, arms loosening up but still staying wrapped around his middle.

"I hate you for leaving me." you said weakly, mad at him, mad at the world, tired of playing the game of survival.

"I deserve it." he said, stating a fact. You had a reason to be angry.

Your hands traveled up his body, finding their place on his face, holding it while your eyes stayed focused on each other.

You had so much left to say.

"Am I that irrelevant to you? Do you think of me as a good-for-nothing lapdog?" you knew the answers.

"Never. I wouldn't think that way about you." his hand clutched your wrist gently, not moving it away from his face.

"Then what do you think about me?" you asked, desperate for his response.

"I believe you know the answer to that question, sweetie." he stated, and in this moment you decided to risk it all.

Standing on your toes you leaned forward, catching his lips in a quick kiss, moving away before he could react.

You didn't have the time to think about what you have done before his arm pulled you closer by the waist, not letting you run away.

His eyes search for answers in yours, before his head tilted forward, his lips touching yours without hesitation.

There's ain't no way you'll let him go after this.

It was middle of the night, you sat there on a poor excuse of a blanket, arm to arm, looking up onto the northern district.

"Caleb?" your voice broke the silence between you two.

"Yes?" he said, sounding as gentle as always, only for you.

"Do you think it'll get better?" looking to the side at him you watched as his gaze stayed focused on the view ahead.

"Of course, I'll make sure to take care of you. Soon enough I'll build you a home on the northern side and keep you safe and comfy there." he said casually, as if everything was as easy to do as it was to say.

"What if the other side is not that much better?" you turned your head back to the view of the city bathed in the darkness of the night.

"Then I'll find a place that will become your safehaven, somewhere far away from here, without preadators and fights for survival. I'll take you somewhere where we'll be able to live our life to the fullest without fear." you smiled and looked at him, catching him already staring at you.

"For as long as we'll stay together I don't care where you'll take me to." you saw how his eyes lighten up at your sentence.

In this cruel world your bond was the only thing keeping you sane.

The only thing worth fighting everyday to stay alive for.

You met as two kids, fighting each other for little things and became teenagers fighting for each other. Now you're about to become adults, still sticking together through thick and thin.

And whatever life throws your way - you'll face it, together.

"You're right, for as long as we'll stay together, we'll be alright." he smiled at you, everything else didn't matter, just two, small people in the middle of the universe, shattering time to stay in the moment for a little longer.

In seconds you were on him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, face hiding in the crock of his neck.

Stunned for a moment boy was quick to reciprocate, embracing you with equal fervor.

There you sat - on your knees, hugging Caleb, arms having trouble to embrace his torso fully, when did he grow so much?! While his hands caressed your back in a calm motion.

Chilly wind made goosebumps appear on your skin, noticing your light shiver your companion was quick to cover you with his body, pulling you to sit in-between his legs, your upper body resting on him.

You enjoyed the moment in comfortable silence, eyes closed while relaxing in each other's embrace, his head lying on top of yours while you listened to his heart, the necklace you gave him resting on his neck right next to your face.

"Caleb?" you asked quietly into his shirt, not moving an inch from his warm hug.

"Yes, princess?" he didn't move either, savouring the moment.

"Do you love me?" innocent question, right? You were inseparable for years, attached at hip, you knew he did, you loved him too. So why did that question seem to hold weight heavier than ever

You heard the way his breath hitched, heartbeat speeding up under your ear.

"Of course I do. What kind of a question is this?" he tried to laugh it off, but you knew what answer you were really looking for.

"No." you moved away forcing him to straighten up and look at you, his pink ears perfectly visible behind the mess of his hair "Do you love me?" you asked again, firmly, looking straight into his widened eyes.

"I-"

"Think about it." you stopped him before he could give you a short answer.

The wind suddenly became more noticeable and louder. You watched as his expression turned from shock to sadness, to hesitation.

Gently and slowly you took his hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.

"I love you." he said quietly, refusing to lift his gaze from the super interesting dirt on the floor.

Your free hand reached up, lifting his chin.

You smiled at his vulnerable expression.

Glancing down to his lips you moved forward, you already knew he'll say that, simply needing to hear it from him before doing anything else.

Confidently but unrushed you pecked his lips, giving him the time to gather his thoughts and pull away if he wanted.

It took him a moment to understand what you did, his body froze, mind working overtime before finally, finally he closed his eyes and tried to relax, his lips timidly moving against yours.

And in this very moment he knew he'll protect you forever.

©alexrosa13 on tumbrl

taglist ← new! @pozuki

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Okay call me insane for requesting this but I have a Jack Abbott idea that popped into my head after seeing your most recent soap cod writing. What if the reader comes into the pitt with minor injuries but still need to be bandages up & she’s Jack’s young wife so when the current doc treating her comments something like ‘oh actually we have a doc named Abbott too’ and asks if that’s her dad. The same time he walks in insists on being the only one to treat her. That pisses him off but the reader teases him & calls him daddy 🫣 (sorry my adhd is on a roll & I didn’t proof read this so hope that makes sense. Ok bye!) *mwah* 💋

bisous! enjoy daddy abbott!

Dr. Daddy

Pairing: Dr Jack Abbott x Wife!Reader

Summary: You came into The Pitt with a few minor injuries. Nothing serious — a couple scrapes, a nasty bruise, and a whole lot of pride damage after slipping on iced coffee in front of a packed elevator. You were fine. What wasn’t fine? The resident patching you up just asked if Dr. Jack Abbott was your dad. And he asked it right as your husband walked in the room.

“I’m just saying,” Whitaker shrugged as he unwrapped a roll of gauze, “we have another Dr. Abbott here. Older guy. Real serious type. I think he’s in trauma. You guys must be related, right?”

You blinked. And then you grinned.

“Related?” you echoed, tilting your head as he dabbed antiseptic across your elbow.

He nodded. “Yeah — I mean, he’s probably old enough to be your dad. Kinda has that strict professor thing going on.”

You pressed your lips together, hard, to keep from laughing. Because right on cue, the door behind him swung open.

And in walked Dr. Jack Abbott, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes locked directly on you.

“Out,” he said, curt and low.

Whitaker blinked, turning halfway. “Sorry—sir?”

Jack stepped fully into the room now, standing straight, a little too calm. “I’ll take over. She’s not a patient to be handed off.”

You watched as Whitaker's face went from confusion to realization to full-blown oh-no-I-just-stepped-in-it.

“I—uh—I didn’t know—” he stammered. “I thought maybe she was your—”

“My wife,” Jack snapped.

Silence.

Whitaker muttered something like “I’ll update her chart” and bolted so fast he nearly left a puff of smoke behind. The door closed.

Jack didn’t move.

You stared at him for a long beat, then cracked a smile. “You know, he did say you had the strict professor vibe.”

He walked over to the sink, washed his hands with military precision, not even looking at you. “He asked if I was your father.”

You bit your lip. “He was trying to be polite.”

“He’s an idiot.” Jack picked up a fresh gauze pad and turned to you. His jaw was still tight, but you could see the heat behind his eyes now. “And if you ever let someone underqualified touch you again, I’ll—”

You cut him off, voice light, teasing. “What? Ground me?”

His gaze flicked up to yours, sharp.

You smiled, just enough to tip it over the edge.

Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, you leaned back a little on the table and purred, “Relax, daddy. He didn’t even get to the good parts.”

Jack froze.

You could see the moment it hit him. The twitch in his jaw. The shift in his posture.

His voice dropped half an octave. “You want to try that again?”

You raised your brows, innocently. “What? I was injured. I needed help. You’re always saying I should let people treat me with respect.”

“I said they should treat you like you matter,” he muttered, pressing gauze to your bruise a little harder than necessary. “Not call me your father in the middle of the ER.”

You grinned. “I didn’t say father. I said daddy. Big difference.”

He exhaled through his nose. “You are impossible.”

You leaned in. “And yet, you married me.”

Jack didn’t answer. Just taped the last piece of gauze with unnecessary precision and said, flatly, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Devastatingly cute,” you corrected, swinging your legs as he packed up supplies. “Now c’mon, daddy. Let’s get me out of here before you lose your medical license over a bruised ego.”

He turned, gave you a look that promised consequences — later.

And just before you left the room, he muttered, barely audible under his breath: “Call me that again when we’re not in a trauma bay.”

[bbywriter]

between us | c. sturniolo

masterlist

summary: you and chris go meet matt's newborn baby

pairing: christopher sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: none just fluff<33

notes: i really need to be studying but i just haaad to write this first

word count: 1k

—

The hospital room is still. A steady rhythm beeps quietly from one of the machines, interrupted only by the hushed conversations between Matt and his girlfriend. The morning sunrise filters gently through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the couple sitting on the hospital bed. They’re completely wrapped in their new little world.  

Exhaustion is heavy in Matt’s features, but it’s soothed by something peaceful and soft. His girlfriend leans against him, her eyes half-lidded with a tired but content smile on her lips. And in his arms, held with the utmost care, is a tiny bundle wrapped snugly in a blanket, barely stirring except for the occasional sleepy wiggle. 

Chris hasn’t taken his eyes off the baby since you walked in.

He’s been up all night, eagerly waiting since Matt texted at the early hours of 2am that ‘we’re in labour!!!!!’ to get the okay to come visit. But now that you’re actually here, he’s gone completely still beside you. Hands fidgeting as his sides, his earlier excitement is now replaced by quiet admiration.

Matt glances up, sending his brother a knowing grin. “You wanna hold her?”

The question pulls Chris from his thoughts and he hesitates, his gaze flickering to you for some sort of reassurance. You place a hand on the small of his back and nod, offering an encouraging smile. “Yeah, baby, go hold her.”

He looks back at his brother and lets out a shaky exhale before stepping forward. He carefully stretches out his arms, his usual confidence softened by a new uncertainty as Matt gently transfers her into his hold. For a second, Chris stands completely frozen, holding his breath. He’s afraid to move too fast or doing something wrong.

But then as the baby lets out the softest little sigh and nestles further into his chest, his heart becomes hers.

“She’s so small,” Chris whispers, his voice barely audible. He shifts naturally, adjusting his hold, his fingers tracing light, absentminded circles over the baby’s back. You can see the way his throat bobs and his lips part as if he wants to say something else, but no words come out. His eyes glaze over just slightly, and when he lets out a breathy laugh, your chest tightens.

You’ve never seen him like this before.

He's always been loving—caring in ways that go unnoticed, selfless and gentle towards everyone around him. But the pure adoration in his eyes as he stares at his niece is entirely different. It’s deeper and more profound and it stirs a warm feeling in your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever loved him more than in this moment.

Matt slings an arm around Chris’s shoulders, pulling him in as they watch the baby together. For a moment, neither of them speaks, just taking in the surreal moment.

Chris shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’re a dad.” His voice is full of disbelief, still trying to process his brother’s new title.

Matt chuckles, his gaze never leaving his daughter. “I know, dude, it’s insane.”

Just then, like she knows they’re talking about her, the baby stirs in her swaddle, her tiny fingers twitching as she shifts against the blanket. She cranes her neck ever so slightly before letting out a slow, sleepy yawn, her little mouth opening wide, her nose scrunching just a bit. The sight is almost too precious, and their reaction is immediate. An identical “aww” slips from their lips in perfect unison.

Chris leans in slightly, studying her sweet features. “You literally do that too with your nose when you yawn.” He smiles at the realization.

“Isn’t it so cute?” Matt replies genuinely, his voice laced with pride and awe at his baby’s simple existence.

But Chris doesn’t hesitate. “Only when she does it.”

Matt scoffs, shaking his head with a smile. He doesn’t argue, but giggles softly instead. Chris is already grinning as well when his own laughter bubbles up. And just like that, the’ve fallen into the fit of giggles that’s been second nature to them since they were also babies.

You watch them closely, and suddenly, your own eyes fill with tears. Their triplet bond has always been something you’ve deeply admired. And now, with this tiny new life between them, you can see it’s only growing impossibly stronger.

“___, do you wanna hold her?” Matt’s girlfriend asks, her voice gentle, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

All eyes shift to you, and when Chris’s gaze meets yours, a soft smile spreads across his face. His eyes flicker with understanding as he notices the tears welling up in yours. You let out a quiet laugh, feeling a little embarrassed by the surge of your emotions, and quickly wipe at your eyes. You nod with a smile, and he gently places the baby into your hold.

The moment her weight settles into your arms, cradled gently between you and Chris, it feels as though you two have also slipped into your own little world.

Without a word, he steps behind you and gently rests his chin on your shoulder, his arm snaking around your waist. His body presses against yours, warm and solid, the closeness both grounding and instinctive, like he needs to be close—to share this moment with you.

You glance up at him, expecting to find him still focused on the baby. But his eyes are on you instead, so full of quiet devotion, full of love, and it pulls the air straight from your lungs.

In the softest voice, just loud enough for you to hear, he whispers, “I can’t wait ‘til we have our own.”

Your heart stutters, unsure if you heard him right. You turn toward him, searching his face, but he’s already looking at you like he means it with every fiber of his being. The words urge a new wave of tears to fill your eyes, and for a second, you forget to breathe.

A slow smile tugs at your lips. You glance back down at the baby in your arms, swaying slightly like it’s second nature. “Me neither.”

Chris tightens his hold around your waist, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. And although in this moment, you don’t know exactly what the future holds, it’s clear and without doubt that when the time comes, Chris is going to be the best dad.

—

a/n: thank you always for reading<3 ily guys<3 so much<3

[cripplecharacters]

hi, so I’m probably undiagnosed ADHD and I wanna write a character who is diagnosed ADHD and the problem I’m having is with meds. How I was planning to write them is that they’re a drummer and the character doesn’t always take their medicine when they are going to drum because it makes them feel like a bit slower and almost have like a delayed response or something. I’m still working at the kinks, but I feel like that could come off as really insensitive towards how ADHD meds work and like I don’t fully know how ADHD meds make you feel because I’m undiagnosed and I don’t wanna write it wrong and all of that.

-🥁

Hello!

That's... not really accurate to how ADHD meds work at all. Though this would be insensitive, my main concern is the inaccuracy and the harmful misinformation that this is spreading.

First thing: ADHD medication -- like any daily medication -- isn't something that can just be taken when you want to take it. It's one thing to forget a dose every so often but deliberately missing doses on a regular basis is very harmful.

Not taking it regularly can cause the medication to be less effective for your character and can cause them to be hit worse (by their symptoms and their withdrawal) every time they miss a dose. It can also cause the medication to just... stop working for your character as they develop a tolerance for it.

I take Concerta (also known by the name Ritalin) and when I miss a dose, I certainly end up feeling it.

For me, the first thing I notice is just a weird feeling. Like something in the world is different. It's hard to describe but, to other people, I'm told that it looks like I'm spacier and in my own world.

I have a very hard time focusing and can't last more than a few minutes without spacing out -- even if I'm actively involved in a conversation. It makes it impossible for me to attend my lectures and take notes, let alone take a test or an exam.

Because I also have anxiety and several other mental conditions, this also has a major impact on them. The increased rejection-sensitive dysphoria (RSD) that I experience triggers an increase in my anxiety (even if I've taken my anxiety meds), which in turn causes an increase in my dissociative symptoms.

The brain is a complex organ -- one we don't fully understand yet. Nothing happens in isolation.

Aside from the ADHD-specific side of things, there's also the withdrawal.

While it's not as bad as the withdrawal from my venlafaxine (the meds I take for my PTSD, anxiety, depression, and dissociative disorder. Three cheers for medication that multitasks!), withdrawal from my Concerta is still not great.

When I miss a dose, I end up sleeping almost the entire day. I just can't stay awake. I also get a horrible headache that can't be touched by Advil or Tylenol and I end up with no appetite (though apparently most people experience the opposite -- an increase in appetite). I also experience an increase in my depression.

Though it will of course be different for everyone (especially if your character is on a different type of medication), what I'm getting at here is that ADHD medication doesn't work like this. You can't pick and choose when to take it.

Taking ADHD medication doesn't make you feel "slower" or have a "delayed response" or anything like that. In fact, those feelings are more likely to come from missing a dose.

Something else that needs to be considered here is that ADHD medication is constantly portrayed as being bad/evil/negative and especially as something that's only done to dull the character with ADHD and make them more "palatable" to those around them. It's shown as something that stifles their creativity and forces them to become exactly like everyone else.

This can't be further from the truth.

Although it is true that ADHD is often over-diagnosed and over-medicated, the effect that ADHD meds have on those who need them can be life-changing.

These harmful misrepresentations of ADHD medication have major consequences in the real world. Not only do they undermine the struggles of having ADHD and reinforce the idea that ADHD is just being hyper/unfocused, they also discourage people from seeking the treatment that can help them.

When I was first diagnosed, I didn't want to go on medication and my parents didn't want me to either. They thought it would make me dull and lifeless and kill my creativity. Even after I'd done my own research and decided to try it, my father spent weeks telling me that ADHD was just "western propaganda" and didn't actually exist.

I see this same attitude in teachers, other parents, and even doctors all the time.

Although some people can be quick to diagnose a child with ADHD and medicate them when there may be another cause for their behaviour, overcorrecting in the opposite direction helps nobody.

If you want to write a character with ADHD and especially one that's on medication for it, please do your research first. You don't have to have ADHD or be on medication to do that. This article [Link] discusses the impact of poor ADHD representation while this one [Link] talks about what happens when you miss a dose of ADHD medication.

In short: please don't do this. ADHD isn't just the "silly hyper can't sit still" disorder and the medication for it is an actual treatment that helps so many people. Treat it as seriously as you'd treat any other disorder.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[logicheartsoul]

if you like it, maybe you should put a pin on it

Based on this post where Bucky finds Sam's board that's filled with pictures of Bucky with strings pushed into it when he was trying to find him back in 2014-2016 and Bucky puts post it notes grading him if he was correct or not. People in the tags commented about this spinning off to a proposal and this was born.

This is my first finished fic in years so, I may be rusty. I hope y'all enjoy!

One day, Sam looks over at the board again— amongst all the chaos and dangling string and pinned up pictures and paper…

He tilts his head, squinting, before blinking his eyes.

There, on the map, is a new picture, stuck through with a blue pushpin.

Familiar brick, that doormat given by his nephews, the dark wood door.

Home.

100%, scribbled in black sharpie, across the surface of a bright yellow post it.

But what catches his eye—

“Will you marry me?”

Sam turns his head, footsteps creaking the wood underneath Bucky’s feet. He’s wearing a suit, not uncommon these days, but something different than the typical navy and grey suits he’s pilfered from Sam’s closet along with his ties.

No, there’s a svelte silhouette to his form, as if it’s important the fit is right. He’s in a three piece wearing a pin attached to the lapel.

And in his left hand is a small, velvet box.

The words on the post it note ring in his head as Bucky steps closer toward him.

“You found me,” he says, close enough his heat emanates from his body, seeping deep into Sam's own.

His eyes, those nowadays soft eyes, hold a glimmer of trepidation, but also hope.

“I sure did,” Sam replies, smile smug. “I’m good at what I do.”

Bucky’s other hand is warm when he reaches out, his thumb resting over Sam’s knuckles in a solid grip. There’s a slight tremor that seems to ease and settle when he brushes his thumb over Sam’s skin.

“Wouldn’t want anyone else to try and find me.”

“Well, you said I was 100% right on the last time I found you. No one can top that.”

A smile blooms across Bucky’s face, his eyes glowing.

“You’re right.”

Sam laughs, the joy bubbling through him, light and airy and warm.

“Can I get that in writing? Or better yet, on video?”

With a flick of Bucky's vibranium thumb, the box gently opens.

“Only if you say yes.”

Sam shakes his head, the line of his grin softer but no less strong, his eyes peering down at the ring gleaming in the lights of their home.

“You drive a hard bargain there.”

Bucky releases his hold, the absence creeping in, until he pulls the ring out of the cushion. Sam’s hand is still hovering in the air when the cool metal slides along his finger.

”What, do you want me to beg?”

The box snaps closed; Bucky’s hand slips into his pocket before drawing it out, resting his left hand on Sam’s waist. His other is holding Sam’s, thumb resting on top of the ring.

Their bodies draw closer, not quite a dance, but movements of a beat they’ve done so often, it’s like breathing.

Sam’s lips brush against Bucky’s, not quite a kiss.

“That could be a start.”

Their foreheads are pressed together, touching, gaze so focused all they can see in the reflection of their eyes is each other. Their hands warming the other’s waist.

“Say yes and I’ll do anything,” Bucky declares.

He tries one more time.

“Marry me?”

He strains to hear in the silence but his enhanced senses register Sam’s whisper like a yell.

“Yes.”

The taste of triumph, of victory, of finding peace and home, is on their lips, and steals their breath before they part for air.

They don’t move far away, foreheads still leaning against each other. Sam’s smile is a bit devious now, a cheeky twinkle in his eye.

“Gonna hold you to that, husband,” he says, and Bucky just laughs.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

_

If you like my writing, feel free to check out my writing tag!

[alllgator-blood]

I just wanna say as a boy with autism the way you portray leshy reminds me so much of myself thank you… I’d like to imagine him having something special to him like a little blanket or a trinket of sorts that he just can’t go without or something like that

UGH I judt love it so much… thank u… I love your leshy and I love your other bishops too theyre all so perfect

AHHH this is really wholesome, I'm really happy you can see yourself in him! I remember getting an ask a long time ago that was like "which of your bishops have autism and why is it all of them" and I still totally agree with that asker, but leshy's autistic traits in particular I try to write a bit differently. I feel like my own autism was handled incredibly poorly by everybody responsible for me when I was a kid, like family/professionals/etc. so instead of patience or support I was just kind of met with irritation, punishment and threats. When I first was like "leshy absolutely has autism, how do I write this?" I wanted to write somebody who definitely had more ""noticeable"" traits but also clearly grew up with people who never made him feel like he had to be ashamed/hide himself. He runs out of words sometimes, but has other methods of expressing himself. He's silly and impulsive but he's NOT unintelligent or incompetent. Any accommodations he needs aren't seen as inconvenient by his family. So like, the IDEAL life that I didn't get but can give to a fictional character >:)

When I was cosplaying leshy last year, someone came up to me and gave me this awesome replica of a gold coin from the game? So I'd have to say he has a lucky coin he takes with him just because of that. I CANNOT stop fidgeting with it when I pick it up, plus he can make Evil 50/50 Decisions with it, so it's functional as well as satisfying to hold. I have added it to his inventory in your honor!

Here is a panel from that WIP comic of him with his "inventory" he keeps in his cloak, the context is that he's retrieving a charcoal pencil to draw the Indescribable Anguish he feels over not being able to recognize his reflection. The other picture is demonstrating how he kinda uses his cloak as a built-in blanket? He just loafs in it and it becomes one lmao- the dialogue will make more sense in the final comic skjdhfkjsdhf

[shadelorde]

I feel like this should probably be considered.

(this being like. the actual writer of Ashes of the Academy.) Absolutely you can criticize Bryke and their handling of Azula's arc in ATLA all you want, but the parasocial "the writers have it out for us specifically" is a little bit over the top.

While I still understand the frustration with Azula's (lack of) arc and handling, I think that acting like everything is shade thrown against us and harassing the writer over something like this is not fair. The ATLA fandom has really been treating the writers (especially the smaller ones, because they are more reachable than Bryke) like shit lately, and it sounds kind of similar to the author of Penquan Island getting harassed because she didn't center Korrasami. I think it is important to consider the perspective of the different characters the writer is, well, writing, and stop acting like that makes someone irredeemable.

[themultifanshipper]

You should write a little thing on all the drivers (maybe even old drivers ) kinks like there most dirtiest kinkiest kinks

Ask and you shall recieve

The freakiest kinks on the grid (and some not on the grid)

Warnings: mention of some relatively hardcore kinks, check tags for included drivers they're not all there

Carlos - overstimulation and multiple orgasms. Not the darkest kink out there but he is obsessed. Never will you come only once, he will always make you come over and over again. He isn't one for quickies, he likes drawing it out and teasing you for hours relentlessly until you're begging him to stop his torment. Whether he does stop or not depends on his mood, and how much of a brat you've been that day.

Alex - He likes to cover you in cum. I don't know why but he gives me the vibes of someone who will always pull out to come on your stomach, thighs, ass, tits... and maybe dip his fingers in to make you suck it off. Maybe even finger it back into you. Idk he just likes cum I can't explain it. Something about claiming you, seeing his cum on your soft skin just makes him feral.

Pierre has a canonically big dick, and a size kink to boot. So he loves that he's on the verge of too big for you. When he can tell the stretch is bordering on pain he gets inexplicably feral, and belly bulges? He will cum early if he looks down to see his cock making a bump. He just loves that he can make you feel so full.

Lando - taking photos/videos. I don't think it's that far from the truth when he says he'd be an onlyfans model. Filthy and artistic? He'll use you as a model and take pictures of you during sex. He has a hard drive full of filthy videos. He'll fill you up and take a picture of his cum dripping out of you, he'll cover you in hickeys and capture the resulting patterns to put in a naughty scrapbook. Also he really likes being pegged, but that does not go in the scrapbook.

Max - shibari. Being tied up and unable to move. Forced to be submissive while you have your way with him. He has those days where he needs to surrender and give you full control of his body. He also loves the process of being tied up, watching you bind him in rope and make all those intricate knots against his skin. He orders rope online, he likes seeing you create different colour combinations and patterns. He's a bit acoustic like that.

Charles - piss kink. I will not elaborate.

Fernando - public sex. But not just public sex. One thing he adores is using one of those remote controlled vibrators on you in public. He's made you come multiple times in front of his friends and colleagues. And none of them have caught on yet, you've had no choice but to become very good at hiding your pleasure.

Oscar - cuckholding. There's something so satisfying to him, watching you get so much pleasure from someone else, then showing you that he can do so much better. His competitive streak comes out and he becomes a beast, fucking you so good you forget all about who fucked you before. He's not against sharing you with his gridmates either, he's certainly not a stranger to threesomes, but he'll hold back and observe. He'll study the other person and how they're making you feel good, then afterwards he'll perfect their technique, making sure he's better than them.

Lewis - consensual non consent, and free use. Anytime he comes home, he's on you in seconds. Sometime's you'll push back, act like you don't want it. But you have a safeword, and if it's used, he stops. As long as the word doesn't leave your lips, he can do anything he wants to you. You can scream, cry, and beg him to stop, but he knows that you want it just as much as he does. There's nothing you love more than him holding you down and having his way with you.

George - Roleplay. And I'm not talking teacher/student. I'm talking more mafia boss, burglar breaking in, pimp with his prostitute etc... the darker stuff that delves into cnc. He'll pretend he's just acquired you, and he has to break you in. Or inspect you. The more degrading for you, the more fun for him. Of course you have a safe word in case you don't like anything he's doing, but you never use it.

Franco - public sex. We know he's had sex in a car, and I wouldn't put it past him to enjoy the public aspect of that. If he's in the mood he'll take you to the bathrooms at an event, or the changing rooms if you're shopping, or in a quiet corner of a park/beach when no one's around. Also BALCONY SEX.

Sebastian - bdsm. That man has a collection. Toys, restraints, he's into pretty much everything, and he'll try anything once. Tying you up, choking, hair pulling, spanking, vibrators, dildos... individually not super kinky, but all together, they paint a pretty depraved picture. Even throw a little bit of roleplay in there and he's in pure heaven.

Kimi R. - Sex in unusual places. Specifically his yacht, his jet, his penthouse balcony, anywhere that is visible and is a symbol of his wealth that he can spoil you with. Maybe he'll rent out your favourite restaurant so he can take you right there on the table. Maybe he pays for an expensive trip somewhere exotic where he can fuck you in front of beautiful scenery. Either way, he's a massive simp for you.

Jenson - Mommy kink. Generally speaking, he'll be on top, singing your praises as he fucks you like there's no tomorrow. But sometimes, just sometimes, he's the one that needs to be praised, to be held and told he's being such a good boy for you. If he's desperate enough, you'll tie him up and make him fuck you from below while you do your best to keep your composure, and tell him he's doing a good job, being so fucking good for mommy. When you do that he comes within seconds.

[innohurrytoshout]

i hope you're miserable ᥫ᭡ m.r

when a misunderstanding with Filch leads to detention after school, you’re stuck babysitting Slytherin’s bad boy

who: mattheo riddle x ravenclaw!reader genre: fluff wc: 3,6k content warnings: reader–riddle tension–matty has a crush ;) and he's a bit of a creep lol a/n:s grrr this was perfect for the day i had, it was so sunny...enjoy!!

Birds cawed, and the air was growing slightly warmer–as you kicked your feet back and forth over the bridge at the edge of Hogwarts’ courtyard over the pond, your two friends were studying for the potions exam they had later today.

Your fifth year had seemed to fly past you. You meant to write to your parents about the upcoming break, but you were still deciding if you should go home or not.

“What’s that look for?” One of your friends spared you a glance.

You blew a lock of hair out of your face and shrugged, “Are you guys going home for the upcoming holiday?”

“Well, yeah.”

“My parents and I have a tradition, you know this,” your other friend butted in. She rolled her eyes, “My brother is being a pain, though.”

“Yeah, but…” a smile pressed to your lips, as easy as the light in the sky. “Don’t you just want to do something else for once? I mean, we’re always on a schedule.”

They frowned at each other, “That’s kind of expected of us, you know? You weren’t complaining when you beat Hermione last semester.” She pointed out, her blonde hair curling around her as if it were something come to life.

Your eyes rolled, and you leaned back on your hands, “That’s different. I don’t mean give up on school work completely.”

They shook their head and laughed, “Okay, sure.”

You opened your mouth to say something more, but they had already gone back to studying.

A few minutes later, the bell rang, and they had to get their things together, “wish us luck.”

You wave a hand, “Yeah, good luck…like you guys even need it.”

“Says the one with a free period.”

You snorted a laugh, “I’ll see you after school in the common room?”

“Yep! See you.” 

“Bye,” they murmured at the same time.

You watched them speed back toward campus. It was pretty warm out today, glancing around, you shrugged. Why not? You moved your bag to sit on the stony pathway and lowered your head onto the shoulder of the bridge, fixing your skirt when you were finally flat against the stone.

This is nice, you found yourself prying deep into thought. You weren’t sleeping, that would be too dangerous–but you were lost, reflecting on the world around you. It was as if time had stopped–as if questions about the universe seemed more significant than your DA quiz on Monday. But–the sun was hitting your face just right, it was shaded slightly?–wait–that wasn’t right–

You peeled an eye open, jerking back when you came face to face with Filch. “Ditching class now, are we?”

What? “No, I–”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “I expected better from you, Racenclaws.”

“But I–”

“Don’t even try it. Get your things,” he motioned toward your bag beside his feet. 

You scrambled to pick yourself up, “wait–that’s not, I have–”

“You fifth years–” he scoffed, “what you’re going to say ‘I have a free period’?”

“But I do!”

“Right, only 6th and 7th years have free periods.”

“I know that,” you were starting to get a bit irritated, “but the Headmaster gave me a special cause. He gave it to a few other students this year.”

Filch halted, and you almost crashed into his back. You stepped away, making a face at his smelly robes. “You expect me to believe that?”

“...Yes.” 

“I’m not as gullible as I look, am I?”

It was useless, you would have to get Dumbledore involved. you were one of the few students who were offered a free period this year. You knew Hermione Granger had been one of the students, but it was clear by the way she seemed to rush back and forth and the way she was always studying that she had declined.

The other students were a mystery, well, you, Draco Malfoy, had one because you’d caught him in the library once. He was alone, looking solemn–to be honest, you hadn’t known he was that great of a student. You never really checked the scoreboards because you always knew you’d place high enough for your parents to get off your back.

“Listen to me!” You shouted after him as he began his marching again. He marched back to the castle while ignoring your pleas.

The next time you got a word out of him, it wasn’t directed at you– “Hey!” He’d shouted, jabbing a finger toward something.

“Stop right there!” He began chasing…something? You huffed, wondering if you’d have to follow him around for the rest of the day because he was on some silly goose chase.

“Aehehehe,” you heard his creepy laugh as you rounded the courtyard.

Filted gripped the back of someone's shirt in the open, stone hall–you snorted.

Both glanced at you when the sound echoed through the hall. Your shoes clicked as you moved closer to the scene. There in front of you was Slytherin’s esteemed prince, Mattheo Riddle, caught in the clutches of Filch. His annoyed expression said it all. He looked like a mouse caught in a cat's trap.

“What I would do for a photo of this,” you were grinning until Filted turned his attention back to you.

“You think this is funny? Well, you can join him.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” You crossed your arms.

“Skipping classes is not allowed.”

You felt your eyes rolling toward the back of your skull, “I already told you. I have a–”

“You already have one detention, you want another one?”

“But–”

“Ah-ah–”

“But!–”

“A second detention it is–”

A snort. You glared at Riddle. His cool, brown eyes met yours, a cheeky smile showing a single dimple. “Oh, you think that’s funny? You can join her!”

Filch let him go just as a groan escaped him, “I had plans later, Filchy–”

“You call me that again, it’ll be a third one for you, Riddle.”

Heh. You were smart enough to keep your assessment in your head this time.

“Come on then,” Filch cast a spell. You knew it, but you didn’t know it well–your body froze as. You could see Riddle in the corner of your peripheral vision, he was frozen, too. A second later, your body relaxed and you stumbled forward, catching yourself right before you fell.

You glanced toward Riddle, expecting him to laugh–he didn’t, but his mouth quivered, making you think he wanted to. You stuck out your tongue and spun around, readying more explanations of how this wasn’t fair–but Filch was already heading off, saying, “I’ll see you two after school.”

A hand shot out to stop him, but your words caught in your throat. Riddle began walking, and soon, he was behind you, leaning over your shoulder. " Just let him go. You won’t be able to convince him otherwise.”

“Have a lot of experience with him, do you?”

He opened his mouth, but instead of words, amusement took the form of a smile.

You started walking toward the Ravenclaw dorms, you would need to leave a note with information for your friends explaining exactly why you wouldn’t be hanging out with them this afternoon. It irked you–Filch had never given you any issues in the previous years, and he hadn’t been around much this year either.

“See you after school, Raveclaw!” You held in the urge to shoot a curse at him as you stomped away.

She took his interest the moment he saw her. She was laughing, her head was thrown back, and she had a hand up as if she wanted to cover her smile. He didn’t want her to–Theo and the rest of his friends had paused.

He knew they had been watching him, trying to figure out what had made him stop so abruptly. They’d been walking through the second-floor halls, just coming from class with those idiotic Gryffindors, she must have just come from class as well, but she was sitting on one of the couches on the first floor, and as he’d just happened to glance over the railing, she’d caught his attention.

Her image had hit him so suddenly–at first he’d thought it was because she was pretty, but there were plenty of pretty girls in his year, so he knew that couldn’t be it. Then what?

Mattheo ignored the bubbling questions–his friends wouldn’t shut up the rest of the day, and whenever they passed her in the halls, they’d all glance at him. She never seemed to notice, though, which made him question–why?

Ravenclaws weren’t Gryffindors, they weren’t his arch nemesis–in fact, his father had mentioned something about how Ravenclaws were more similar to Slytherins than they liked to admit.

He found himself following her; he knew it was wrong and creepy, but again, neither her nor anyone ever seemed to notice–if they had, they hadn’t said anything–if they had said something, Mattheo would have heard and shut it down by now.

A huff escaped him, the sun was out–it felt nice on his face. He hadn’t planned to get caught by Filch–he hadn’t planned to follow her and her friends out there, though okay–it might not seem that way.

Draco had wanted to get some fresh air, “and by the looks of it, you could use some sun.” Lorenzo had joked, earning a back of the head smack from Pansy. Blaise had chuckled, and Mattheo had felt himself smile slightly, shaking his head–that was until Theo pointed out her and her friends.

“Isn’t that your little Ravenclaw?” 

“Don’t call her that,” Mattheo had rolled his eyes, but they landed on her–and that was–in fact–her, surrounded by her friends, but she’d looked different. Her smile wasn’t as bright–she’d looked almost…solemn.

He’d felt a pit in his stomach, he didn’t know much about Ravenclaws, he stayed very much to his home turf, but over two years, he could gather well enough to know that there was always immense pressure on them, not unlike what him and his friends had to endure from their own parents.

They’d followed them slightly, but as the Ravenclaws headed for the Hogwarts Bridge, Mattheo and his friends steered toward the forest. They had a small hideout their, they called it the clubhouse–picked up from some muggle children’s book.

But soon, the bell had rung and they were heading back toward the school. Mattheo meant to track his friends, but then he noted the two Ravenclaws without their third member–and it occurred to him to wonder over to the bridge, just to make sure, he’d told himself.

It wasn’t just to make sure, he knew almost without doubt she would be there. He just wanted to see her–maybe this was his chance to talk to her, who would think it odd? Just two students who happened to be alone in the same place–that’s what his brain had convinced him of anyway.

Her face was calm, a complacent smile brightened by the sun hiding somewhere behind the trees that shaded her body halfway. He hadn’t realized it, but his heart began to slow. Watching her was relaxing, as he had come to know. 

Damn now he really did sound like a freak. He shook himself out of his stupor, okay, he was there, he was going to do it. He was going to talk to her–any second now–but he hadn’t moved then, and he hadn’t moved a second later, and soon it would be too late because Filch and his mangy cat appeared from seemingly nowhere and were now towering over her. 

It turned into something from a horrow moview. He’d watched them, laughing at her trying to explain why she wasn’t in class. He knew why, Dumbledore had offered a few fifth year students the opportunity typically only reserved for 6th years and up.

Mattheo found his amusement dying when Filch had began moving in his direction. He ran back to the castle, careful to not alert his fry-head of a cat– but it had been useless becasue Filch had seen him anyway.

He didn’t want her to know, he was afraid fo what she’d think of him–afraid that she’d know just by looking that he’d been watching her. “Nervous?” He murmured, just now figuring out what it was he had been feeling. He scoffed, “No way…” but he couldn’t shake the thought, the way.

The bell for the last class rang and he sighed, sitting up. He was somewhere deep in the castle, to be hoenst, even he didn’t know how he’d found this place–it was in the attick of the castle, but Howarts had many atticks, he didn’t know which this one was, he only knew it was near Ravenclaw Tower, and no, he hadn’t planned it.

It had just been a happy coincidence, he’d found it in his second year–when Draco had finally begun to stop, “Potter this,” and, “Potter that,”–Blaise and Lorenzo called it his Pottymouth Year. A memory of them making fun of their friend litened his heart–it made having detention two days in a row, even though today was Friday and tomorrow was supposed to be a rest day.

Though, he’d only had detention a handful of times, he’d never been this elated, and perhaps a little Ravenclaw had something to do with it…he shook his head, wodnering why his mouth was full of smiles today.

You drug your feet across Hogwarts, yawning as you make your way down the hall. The spell Filch had cast gave your subconscious the exact directions to where he wanted you to meet him after school. You had sat in the common room until the last bell rang, as soon as it rang, your body stood and began heading toward wherever Filch must have been.

Students were milling about, chattering everywhere you turned, and it lit a fire under your butt. This could have been you–it should have been you–it was going to be you–but because that dinglemutt didn’t have a clue as to his master's new proclamation, you were being unfairly punished.

You headed out toward the quad and rounded the castle, where you were going to the Quidditch field? Great–what could you possibly be doing? Cleaning gear? You whimpered just thinking about how smelly those locker rooms must be.

“Ah, she arrives.” You fisted your hands and set your mouth, but kept quiet.

“Where’s Riddle?” You married your eyes, searching for the Slytherin.

“Don’t worry about him–he’ll be here.” Filtch checked the time on his wand, “Now follow me.”

Mattheo was grinning. He couldn’t be grinning when he headed into the lockerooms. They were on the Slytherin/Ravenclaw side, so thankfully, he wouldn’t be cleaning some snot-nosed Gryffindor’s uniform. Mattheo shuddered at the thought–Filch couldn’t be that cruel…could he?

Best to not find out. Someone–definitely Filch–cleared his throat and stepped outside, eyeing him expectantly, “Well, go on. She can’t clean them alone, can she?”

Mattheo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets before walking in. 

She had her hair pulled back with a clip–Mattheo had never seen her like this...well, okay, he’d seen her with her hair pinned up–but she was all sweaty and her sleeves were rolled back, his eyebrows scrunched together–why was it so hot?

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “Are you trying to off yourself before the OWLs?”

You glared, watching him pull out his wand. You bit your cheek when he cast a silent spell. You were still working on those–it peeved you and your nails dug into your palms, just another reason to hate him, you suppose.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He cooed, begging to unbutton his sleeves and roll them up. It seemed he’d had the same idea you had. He only wore his uniform button-up. It was weird, seeing him without his regular attire; he looked different, though you couldn’t be sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Wind hit your face, and your sweat began cooling. You paused, dropping the scrub on the space near the sink.

“It’s nice, right?” He saddled up beside you, and you stumbled back, surprised. “I don’t bite,” he frowned, looking…annoyed?

He was aware of who he was, right? Nevertheless, he didn’t…he wasn’t–you shook your head, “I’m not afraid of you, you just startled me is all.”

“Oh, really now?” He raised a brow.

“Really.” Your jaw locked. He watched as you stepped forward, standing your ground–it was cute. His frown turned into a lopsided grin, which only made you huff.

“Why aren’t you using magic?” He glanced around the room, “It’d be much easier.”

“He disabled my magic,” you frowned, looking at your wand in the side pocket of your skirt dissappointedly. Riddle craned his neck to follow your gaze, he leaned over you slightly and your heart began to pick up pace.

He smelled good, like mahogany teakwood and morning dew. You didn’t know why those two specific smells came to you–it didn’t seem right for the Dark Lord's son to smell like something as innocent as morning dew, and yet here he was.

“What?” His head turned slightly, and he was glancing down at you, his body slightly over yours. You swallowed and shoved him away, averting your gaze back onto the uniform, “are you going to stand there and help or what?”

Mattheo paused as a thought came to him. “Whose uniform is that?”

“I don’t know, why does it matter?” You picked the sponge back up, but he snatched the top from the sink before you could, “hey, you’re going to get water everywhere.” 

He waved his hand in front of your face, and you frowned. Apparently, Filch had favorites.

He glanced at the number, his shoulders relaxed a bit, and he handed it back to you. “Someone you know?” You snorted, taking back the uniform.

“You could say that.” He threw you a cheeky smile before spinning around and using his magic to clean the rest of the uniforms.

“So not fair,” you murmured, shaking your head.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you were caught skipping classes.”

“I wasn’t skipping classes!” You shouted, “I. Had A. Free. Period.”

Riddle shrugged, “You heard what Filch said.”

“You are really starting to get on my nerves.”

He held his hands up, pressing both lips together to suppress another smile.

You ground your teeth and, without thinking, threw the sponge at him. He blinked as he bounced off his cheek. A gasp escaped you and your hands shot to cover the laughter that threatened to trickle out, “I am–” you snorted, “–shaho–” another snort, “sorry?”

Riddle’s mouth dropped open slightly, and his tongue circled the inside of it. His eyes landed on yours again, and he watched you watch him wipe the soap off his cheek. “Are you asking for a war?” he called you by your surname.

Your heart studded…you don’t remember ever giving him your name. “You know me?”

His amusement died instantly. “What are you talking about? I don’t.”

You raised a brow and crossed your arms, frowning, “Did you not just call me by my name?”

“I–” he stepped backward as you walked toward him, cornering him into a wall.

“You knew my name.”

“So, I know lots of people's names.”

“That a shit exuse, Riddle.”

As you got closer, you noticed something…something on his face, it was a shade redder…was he blushing? You couldn’t believe your eyes–your footsteps halted. You weren’t dumb, you could connect the dots easily enough, “Mattheo Riddle, do you have a crush on me?”

His eyes jumped out of their sockets when his head jerked up to face you again, “what–no–I”

“Mmmhmmm,” it was odd–this was a side you were certain no one had ever seen from him–he was a Riddle for Merlin’s sake–a Slytehirn–but right now he didn’t look like any of the things either of those titles was known for.

He looked different from your everyday point of view of him, he looked like…any other boy in your year, you stepped closer and, without thinking, leaned over and poked his cheek. He watched you do it, and he didn’t move. A cheesy grin spread across your face, “Mattheo Riddle, were you stalking me?”

He stayed silent, but his face darkened in color even though the locker rooms were pretty chilly now. Noise startled him out of his trance, you watched his cool facade slide over his boyish embarrassment. But it was too late, you had seen everything you’d needed to.

“Mattheo?” You recognized that voice.

“Hey, you’re here already?”

“Yep, Coach wanted us in early–what are you doing here?”

Soon, the lockeroom was filled, and eyes were all on you–your lips pursed and, though you didn’t know why, you glanced at Riddle as if he were supposed to give you orders on what to do next.

Nott’s eyes widened when they found yours–soon they jumped back to Riddle’s and he jerked his body around, laughing into his elbow. You ignored Malfoy’s curious gaze and every other interested one.

“Right, you should get going now, the uniforms are cleaned so…”

“But, I,” you turned back toward the uniform you had been cleaning.

“That one’s plenty cleaned,” he walked passed you, unbuttoned the front of his shirt, and you glanced away, embarrassment clinging to your every being. You felt his friend’s eyes on you, but you kept your eyes on the ground.

“You can look now,” he murmured your surname. Your head jerked toward Riddle, glaring as his snort sounded throughout the room.

“That one was yours?”

He glanced down, “Isn’t it obvious?”

You scoffed and shook your head, wagging a finger at him, “Next time I see you, Riddle.” You spun around expectantly, “Well? Make some room, I can’t push through the lot of you, can I?”

As you moved through the gap created for you, Riddle called out, “See you tomorrow, Ravenclaw!”

“Screw you Slytherin!”

a/n: let me know what you think!!

[softsunnyy]

p3 to when two people are obsessed!!!!!!!!!! down on my KNEES begging for this

because i'm a good person, i wrote it before i passed out from sleep 🖐🏻🖐🏻

🚨 i think all of this deserves a warning. Again, unhealthy obsession, spanking, cumming inside, stalking, him being inside your house, recording without your permission, biting. They know everything about each other because they're obsessed. Hunter x prey at the beginning, just a little bit. Dom!Quinn. You belong to him. I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE I'M MISSING. But anyway, i wanna write more and more about this couple, because my god, how I enjoy it. 🚨

poorly written!!

when you walked inside, there was something off; you knew it from the first moment. His scent wasn't flooding the room, nor were there even the slightest things out of place. Yet you can feel that you're not alone, even though you're not being watched.

a chill runs down your spine, and although a part of you feels paranoid, there's another part of you that wants to know, that wants to explore every corner of your place, hoping to find him.

you feel chased, as if he's hunting you, as if he wants to keep you scared, nervous, looking everywhere, hoping to see him appear from some corner or some shadow. And you know you should go to your room, but the cold in your body prevents you from going right away, and instead you pace around, prolonging the encounter.

Quinn knows you've arrived, of course he does, but he waits for you, camera in hand, his gaze fixed on the door. His jaw clenched, his cock aching like never before, having provoked himself by watching the video over and over again. His breathing was heavy, and the adrenaline was pumping through his body, driving him to do things, fueling every scene he'd imagined in his head.

he knows you're avoiding him, but he also knows that you'll eventually get to him, and he'll be waiting for you, ready to destroy you, and to accomplish every single thing he's planned.

and as the minutes pass, a force constantly calls you toward that closed door, making it impossible for your eyes to tear themselves away. The silence is heavy, and you feel like one false step will make him appear before you, and you won't have time to react before he takes your breath away.

thoughts run through your mind, as do questions.

how long has he been there? how did he react to the video? what is he planning?

while you felt brave filming, you know that seeing him in person is something entirely different. After all this time obsessing over him, learning everything you could, and having him in your mind every second of the day, you still know your legs might give out at the sight, that it will surely be too much.

yet you eventually give in, and trying to breathe deeply, you approach. One step at a time, your legs and hands shaking with fear and excitement. Your heart is beating so hard that Quinn can surely hear it.

finally at the door, you grab the handle and slowly turn it, silently opening it, your eyes glued to the floor, your heartbeat growing stronger and faster. You feel dizzy, and everything increases when you look up and see him. He's sitting on the edge of your bed, just as you've imagined so many times, and his eyes bore into you, as if he could see everything. You can only imagine the expression on your face when you see him.

his presence is overwhelming, tempting, intimidating. All the air that had entered your system was gone, and a shaky breath is all that remains.

"Quinn," you whispered his name, as if saying it louder would make him disappear. He closed his eyes for a moment, clenching his teeth even tighter, feeling the way his cock throbbed at the sound of your voice directed at him, finally. Then he looked back at you, trying to calm down.

your room feels small, you feel small, and you know he now has the power, and he can do whatever he pleases with you.

his voice interrupts the spiral of nervousness you were spiraling into, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You think that was funny?” he laughs humorlessly and stands up, approaching you, camera still in hand, moving it, showing it to you, letting you know he’d seen the whole thing. You could only gulp, shifting in place, still staring at him. “Did you think it would be clever to film something like that, knowing what it would do to me? Did you think you were being clever by moaning my name like that?” he stopped in front of you, so close you could suffocate in his scent. Your legs would have given way, but miraculously you were still standing. You couldn’t answer him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. And he tries to be patient, but as i mentioned before, when it comes to you… that’s not his strong suit, so with his free hand he takes your chin, firm, confident, bringing your face close to his, “I asked you something, darling. When i ask, you answer. Or did the cat get your tongue?”

“I…” you hesitated, blinking nervously, feeling dizzy, drugged by him. Your eyes kept moving down, meeting his lips, and he noticed, of course he did, so he licked his lips and then smiled at you, enjoying seeing you like this.

“well, it worked. Whatever the fuck you wanted to achieve, now i'm here, and you're not gonna be able to escape it. Is that what you wanted?” his eyes left yours for the first time, studying your face, taking in your cheeks, your lips, moving down your neck and the little your shirt allowed him to see. Still, he knows what's underneath because he spent a long time memorizing your body, the way it reacts, your sweet sounds, everything.

you nod, still unable to form a word. And that's when the barriers fall, a button is pressed. Quinn carelessly throws the camera onto the bed and grabs your waist with both hands, pulling you against his body, devouring your mouth in a hard, intense, desperate kiss. His grip was so strong it would surely leave bruises on your skin, and yet that didn't bother you at all; you just reciprocated, moving your lips in time with him, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to merge with his body and feel him completely.

weeks of observing him, of learning about him. Weeks in which you learned so much about him that you can't even consider him a stranger. Weeks of memorizing his body, his voice, his expressions, imagining this scenario over and over again.

and for him, it took weeks of learning about you, following you, delving into your life until he absorbed every last detail of your existence, making sure to drive you crazy, to draw you to him, until his name was tattooed in your mind, until all you could think about was him.

your bodies seem to gravitate toward each other, as if it's habit, as if you've known each other forever, as if you've done this a thousand times.

Quinn's hands slid under your shirt, and you can feel the confidence in him in the way he moves his hands up, reaching your bra, and slipping his hands under it, finding your tits and playing with them, massaging, squeezing, stretching your nipples until they harden, without leaving your mouth, and entering his tongue, dominating you, making you understand who's in charge.

your whimpers die down in his mouth, and you can feel the heat both on your face and between your legs. Your pussy preparing for him, for whatever he wants to do to you. Your hole preparing, accepting what's to come.

when your body moved forward, seeking more contact, he pulled away, staring into your eyes for a few moments before maneuvering your body. He placed his hands on your waist again, moving you until you fell onto the bed, careful not to break the camera, which he moved to the side. Then he quickly positioned himself on top of you, trapping you, using his strength to make you almost unable to move.

his lips found yours again, and his hands desperately found your pants, carelessly trying to pull them down. You felt a slight burning sensation, though you helped him, lifting your lower body. He pulled away from you only to finish removing your pants, leaving you in your panties. They had a rather large stain that caught his attention.

with his hands, he held your legs open for him as he bent his head, bringing his face down to your clothed pussy.

first, he smelled your arousal, lightly touching your panties with the tip of his nose. He then proceeded to use his tongue, licking the stain, making it stick to your pussy, getting between your folds, making you moan and try to close your legs, failing pathetically.

Quinn feels like he's in heaven, getting high on the scent of your pussy and savoring the taste of your arousal caused by him. And he lingers for a moment, licking hungrily, creating an even bigger slick, and sharing the heat of his mouth, feeling your body move, trying to get closer. He only pulls away when his desires are greater, and he can't help it; his hands tear at your panties, taking advantage of how wet they are, opening a gaping hole that gives him the freedom to continue.

this time his tongue touches your clit directly, and the stimulation has you moaning. You move a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in it, and tugging a little hard, letting him know how good that feels. He looked at you, pleased, and ran his tongue between your folds, this time playing with your hole, slowly entering it, pushing between your tight walls and pulling out a couple of times, then attending to your clit again, sucking with some force, appreciating the way your body moves and reacts, and the way your eyes squeeze shut as your hand in his hair keeps him close.

he played with your pussy, keeping you on the edge, stopping every time he felt you were about to come, and ignoring the incessant ache in his cock, which screamed to be attended to. He was punishing you, making you feel the pain he experienced while waiting for you.

tears began to stream down your cheeks when he stopped again, whimpering his name, begging him to have mercy, to let you cum. Your hole throbs, your pussy aches, and the knot grows more and more unbearable. But he doesn't listen, ignores you, and resumes his game, devouring you, savoring your flavor over and over again, enjoying your fluids dripping down his chin, making his face a mess of your juices.

the last time he pulled away, your hips moved, thrusting, trying to rejoin his mouth. His hands had squeezed your legs tightly this entire time, so you had his finger marks. But it's not enough for him, and now he decides to kiss the inside of your thighs, leaving small bites, and then he begins to suck, leaving a wild trail where he passed, decorating your skin like a painting. Then he licked each of his marks, feeling the pride in his chest, almost primal at what he'd done.

when his hands finally removed your shirt, it was as if another part of you had unlocked, and once again he ignored your pleas, removing your bra and beginning to play with your breasts, making sure to repeat the process, continued marking your breasts, your abdomen, and his way to your shoulders, collarbones, and neck. The image is completely animal, wild, and you'll surely suffer tomorrow looking at everything he's done to your body, but now it's pleasurable, and the way he proudly looks at his creation makes you feel satisfied.

you're more and more his. Only the most important thing is missing. So for that, he flipped you over, putting you on your hands and knees, letting you settle, arching your back and resting your head on your pillow. Behind you, he stripped off his clothes, freeing his cock, which is aching, burning red, with its veins prominent, his balls swollen, hoping to fill you once and for all.

it's then that his eyes find your camera, and he turns it on without a second thought, placing it on the nightstand, pointing it in your direction, although to give a better view, he positioned your bodies so that your face would be facing the camera. He didn't even ask you, because he wasn't interested. He'll have that recording for himself. To remember the moment he first took you, and repeat it over and over again.

once ready, he took his cock in one of his hands, guiding it to your dripping pussy, rubbing himself for a moment against your folds, enjoying hearing your moans once more as you felt his tip hit your overstimulated clit, taking no mercy on the way your body reacted. And without giving you time to recover, he thrust his cock inside you in one swift thrust, going all the way in, making your walls swallow him whole.

the air left your lungs, and you were grateful that he took the time to make you wet, even if it didn't help stretch your walls. It made his big cock enter a little more easily, though your insides were still tight, too tight, and he had to put in a lot of effort not to cum.

when he started moving, you felt like you were floating. He thrust in and out of you hard, so brutally that the wet sound of your bodies joining could be heard on the recording, with your moans and almost screams of pleasure. You raised your head, letting the camera capture your face, with drool wetting your chin and neck, your eyes squeezed shut, and his marks decorating your body.

he moved desperately, seeking his own release, even though he knew yours wasn't far away. One of his hands grips your hip, holding you still, but the other grabs one of your ass cheeks, squeezing, massaging, and then dropping his hand, landing a hard smack on your ass that made you gasp in surprise.

his eyes are glued to the way your ass begins to turn red and irritated, and something inside him seems to go crazy, so he begins to land more smacks on you, obsessively watching the way his hand began to mark your skin, red, with small dots of blood from the force he used.

you couldn't be more aroused, moaning his name incoherently, feeling your brain burn with each thrust, making it impossible to think about anything but how good you feel. And your body aches, but nothing matters to you; you just want to keep feeling him.

he takes it all out on your body, hammering into you. And the bed frame slams against the wall, so hard it might break something, but neither of you cares, and he keeps moving.

it's then that the knot inside you reappears, and you sob, begging him to let you cum this time. Begging for mercy. Begging for permission. Because you know. Your body no longer belongs to you.

it belongs to him.

and he decides to have mercy, considering how much he's tortured your body, and grants it, saying the magic words for you.

when you cum, it's so hard that for a moment you feel like you might pass out. Your legs tremble and nearly give way. Your walls clench so tightly it's even harder for Quinn to keep moving, but he does anyway, overstimulating you.

oh, but when he reaches his orgasm? you hear him moan your name, unloading inside you, filling you with his cum, and thrusting in and out of you. When he's done, he stays inside you for a couple of seconds, then takes the camera, focusing on the moment he pulls out of you and your hole lets out a bit of his cum, staining your folds, and letting it slide down your thighs, meeting the bite marks he'd made.

but if you thought he was done, oh baby, you're wrong. He's going to fuck his name inside you. This was just the introduction. Now he'll want you to ride him, to bounce on his cock while making your ass cheeks itch even more.

he wants to destroy you until you can't even sit on your bed without thinking about him and everything he can make you feel.

now that he has you, he won't let you go. You'll have to get used to it.

special mention to @kawhh and @ruinix , because i know you liked the previous part, and i'm a fan of both, so this one's for u <33