#i will come back to this... maybe.... hopefully

[moonstruckme]

Hello tumblr has decided to temporarily disappear the request I'm ready to post again, so sorry and thank you for requesting <3

Request: i love love love your writing and was wondering if you’d write a period hurt/comfort with james? i have really bad endometriosis, and i’ve never really had someone take it seriously :( fainted earlier so i’m in pain rn and i just know james would be such a sweetheart

cw: modern au, reader who menstruates, very mild/vague description of cramps, male gaslighting/suspicion of female pain (what else is new)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

“Will that be all?” The geniality in James’ tone is starting to wane thin. He paces aimlessly around your flat, down the hall and into the bedroom and then back out again, footsteps meandering about the kitchen. “Right, yeah. No, I’m quite sure she’ll be out all day.” 

James shoots you an exasperated look as he comes into the sitting room, and you manage a smile-esque grimace from the couch in return. Your boss is a piece of work, you know. 

You hold out your hand for the phone. James shakes his head. 

“No, she can’t come to the phone right now,” he says, sitting beside your curled-up legs. “She’s resting. Did I mention she fainted a bit ago? Alright, yeah, just checking. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll let her know.” 

You grimace again when he puts down the phone. Hanging up without telling the other person to have a lovely day is like James’ equivalent of the middle finger. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“What’re you sorry for?” James gives your calf a gentle squeeze. “Your boss is rather pushy, isn’t he? Shouldn’t take so much to use a sick day.”

“I don’t think he believes me.” You let your face mush deeply into a throw pillow. There’s a light sweat broken out on your brow, but you couldn’t be more grateful for the sweltering heating pad held tight over your abdomen. “I could’ve talked to him.” 

James makes a face. “You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that when you’re already poorly.”  

“What did he want you to let me know?” 

“Oh. Uh.” James seems as though he did not, in fact, plan to let you know, but now that you’ve asked he can’t avoid it. “He said that he expects to see you in tomorrow. We’ll see.” 

You sigh. “I might be able to manage tomorrow. Or I might be a bit better, at least.” 

“We’ll see,” he says again, stooping to mush a kiss into the side of your head. “Don’t worry about that yet, sweetheart. How are you feeling now?” 

“Better than when I woke up.” 

“Yeah?” James asks hopefully. It’s a low bar, considering that early this morning the pain had been bad enough to cause you to pass out. But if there’s one thing James can be relied upon for, it’s a positive outlook. “That’s great, lovie. Is there anything you need?”

You shake your head, breaths shallowing as your cramps worsen. Nausea pinches the back of your throat. James’ face pinches, too, as he sees. He rubs your lower back where the muscles tend to clench. 

“Is there anything you want?” he asks instead. 

It almost makes you laugh. Almost, but even that’s enough to ease the pain slightly. 

“No,” you say, breathing out as the worst passes. James continues massaging your back. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe we could try a walk later, if you’re feeling better,” he says. “Some light exercise might help.” 

“Maybe,” you murmur. Truly, the thought of leaving this couch anytime during the next week makes you want to sew yourself into the cushions. James probably knows you’re only humoring him, but he doesn’t say anything. When you hug your heating pad closer, he spreads his palm flat over your back to transfer heat there, too. 

You relax some when the cramp eases the rest of the way. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take over your whole day.” 

“Sweetheart, why are you sorry?” James places his free hand over yours on your heating pad. Between that and the one on your back, it’s almost like a hug. “I know you don’t want this to happen. And, honestly, I’d rather have my day taken over by you than anyone else. Don’t tell Sirius.” 

That coaxes a small smile out of you. James grins, leaning down again to plant a kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m sorry you’re so miserable.” 

“I’m not miserable,” you say. “I’m with you.” 

James makes a horrendously fond sound, cuddling you close. “You flatterer. I don’t know where you find the energy to be so sweet during times like this.” 

You make it easy, you want to say, but James will only think you’re playing along with him and you want to say it when he’ll hear the sincerity you mean it with. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and say, “I’ve thought of something I want.” 

“Yeah?” James sits up. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, mindless of your clamminess. You think that maybe the only thing bigger than James’ capacity for love is how it feels to be at the center of it. “Some tea, maybe? That tumeric one helped a bit last time, remember?” 

“Maybe later,” you say, voice softening. “For now, could I please have a kiss?” 

James blinks once in surprise, but then he grins. “Ah, for the endorphins,” he says, already bending down. “Good thinking, angel.” 

“Right.” You don’t know where he gets these facts. You suspect he scrolls through endometriosis reddit forums while you’re asleep. “Yeah.” 

James makes it a kiss worth asking for. He keeps his hand flat over your back as he leans over you, the other cupping your cheek to encourage your face towards him. And when your lips part, you do feel a bit better. It’s a magical cure-all, just like the fairytales say.

[wondergirlsthings]

From Heartache to Healing

PAIRINGS: lando norris x (ex)gf!reader/joao felix x reader

The text pinged her phone as she sat in the airport lounge, waiting to board her flight back to Monaco. She hadn't seen Lando in weeks due to her work trip abroad, but they’d been texting and calling every chance they got. Or so she thought.

Her best friend’s message was blunt and impossible to ignore:

"I hate to be the one to tell you, but Lando was seen with Magui last night. It didn’t look innocent."

Her stomach dropped, and a storm of emotions swept through her confusion, anger, disbelief. She immediately pulled up Instagram, scrolling through stories. There it was: a photo someone had snapped of Lando at a restaurant, Magui sitting far too close, their smiles too intimate to pass off as friendly.

The betrayal stung worse than she imagined it would. After everything they had shared, after all the promises.

By the time she landed in Monaco, she had already decided not to confront him. Not yet. She wanted to think, to process. But fate wasn’t on her side. As she stepped out of the airport terminal, there he was, waiting for her with that familiar smile that now only made her furious.

"Hey, love," he said, pulling her into a hug. She let him hold her for a moment before stepping back.

"Don’t," she said coldly. "Just don’t."

He frowned, confused. "What’s wrong?"

She laughed bitterly. "You tell me, Lando. Or should I ask Magui?"

The color drained from his face. "I—it's not what it looked like—"

"Save it," she cut him off. "I don't have time for excuses." She turned on her heel, leaving him standing there in stunned silence.

Over the next few weeks, she focused on herself. But that didn’t mean she let Lando's betrayal slide.

That’s when João Félix entered the picture. They met at an event in Lisbon—his charm and warm demeanor were a refreshing change. He didn’t need to try too hard; she found herself smiling at his jokes and enjoying his company without even meaning to.

When Lando called to "talk," she let him stew. He found out about João through social media, a photo of them laughing together during a casual dinner hitting the tabloids.

Her phone buzzed nonstop, Lando’s name lighting up the screen. She ignored every call. She wasn’t dating João to make Lando jealous. Not entirely. João made her feel valued, respected—things she realized Lando hadn’t done in a long time.

The next time she saw Lando was at a mutual friend's party. João had his arm around her waist, his presence steady and reassuring. Lando’s gaze followed them all night, his jaw tight. When their eyes met across the room, she tilted her head and gave him a small, knowing smile.

Let him wonder. Let him regret.

Because she was done crying over him.

----------------------------------------------

Hello everyone! This is my first time write and hopefully many more to come

I take requests for F1 and Football players and idk maybe someone else but not sure so far . I hope u liked this!!

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

ERrOr 0.2

Love and Deepspace Various! / Reader

《File welcomes you! Enter! ... Good Luck.》

-

Wiping down a few menus scattered around the café, you glance at the cloudy skies.

Not quite sunny, but rather plain. Reaching over to the blinds, you lower them down. Ready to close up since you had the key.

DING!

A young man wearing a familiar smile comes in, a jacket wrapped around him as hands laid in his pockets.

“...Are you still open?” He asked politely, the friendly and attitude lighting up the rather quiet cafe. 

Blinking at him, rag in hand. A somber, almost knowing grin creeps up your face. “I… Yeah, please. Come in.”

You move away from the blinds, barely having the courage to look at his handsome face. Setting yourself up at the register, you ask for his order, rag held tightly between your fingers.

He eyes the menu behind you, scanning over the titles until he settles on a few things. Two mini apple parfaits and a single coffee. 

Not even bothering to right down the order, you keep eye contact when asking for his name. Voice almost shrill as the rag becomes tatters in your grip.

“Oh! It’s Caleb.” 

-

Holding the tearful girl in your arms, you keep your mouth shut. Patting her back as she wails incoherent nonsense by your ear. 

While, you wished to tell her the truth, you knew deep down you couldn’t. The only solace you could offer in her time of sorrow were merely gestures of comfort. Hoping it would be enough to appease the both of you.

Glancing at the apple parfaits sitting on your kitchen counter, you hold MC tighter.

-

Xavier blinked at the small bunny shaped dessert, the white porcelain plate glimmering against the sun from the window. You sit in front of him as he blinks the sleep away from his eyes, his lunch barely touched.

“Hi..? Are you awake?” You smile far to chipper, blinding him more the sun rays. Expecting the fawning gaze you directed at him, his lips part into a frown.

The expression you wore was unfamiliar to him. 

“...Mn, ‘sorry.”

“It’s fine, I thought some dessert would wake you up. Don’t worry, it won’t be on your bill!” You wink.

Amused, he nods, grabbing a spoon, lightly poking at the jiggly rabbit shaped pudding. You giggle, enjoying his actions openly. Xavier relaxes a bit, forgetting the small details from before.

“Hey… Is…” You pause, biting at your lips,nervously gripping the tray.

“Hm?” He hums, his beautiful blue eyes keeping sole attention on you.

“Is MC-... I mean-! So, are you and MC doing anything later? I’m free after closing, maybe we get something to eat?” You ask hopefully, knowing you would be dismissed from the offer. You even asked Zayne a day ago if he’d like to meet up for some grub.

Not knowing the next chance, you would be able to see him out and about! Yet before he could even give an answer, he got an urgent call from the hospital. Leaving in a hurry as he grabs your notepad and pen, writing something down before placing it on the table. Leaving soon after… Checking what he wrote in such a rush … HIS NUMBER!? 

You recall skipping home, swinging the paper about joyously.

“I would-”

“FINALLY! I FOUND IT!” 

Rafayel beams, the doors bell announcing his entrance as a sweating MC follows behind. Features censored for readers! 

“YOU…!” She grits out, before gasping and making a beeline towards you. Eagerly like a cat drawn to milk. “I’m so sorry about him, (Y/N)! I’ll kick him out right now!”

Yet she makes no move to do so as she sticks to you like glue, wrapping a hand around your waist easily. She plucks the cafe tray from you.

She holds it as if she were a brave knight, the tray her shield to protect what a knight holds dear! 

Glaring at the purple haired male. “Go, shoo fishy~!” She waves him off, the merman in question scowls.

“Sorry Miss Bodyguard, but I can’t at the moment, now if you would move-” Rafeyels tone was filled with annoyance as the female hunter shakes her head.

“Excuse me, I’d like to order…” 

Blinking, you regain your bearings as MC hisses at the new voice.

“Right! Sorry! Coming right over!”

Moving out her grip, you walk over to the disguised Sylus, you follow after him like a loyal dog. 

   “Not him too..!” She grunts stubbornly under her breath, exasperated. Sighing before receiving a text from Zayne that he was about to stop by the cafe for lunch. Asking if she wanted anything.

With another reluctant sigh, she texts back.

Rafayel huffs, scanning the small cafe, before his eyes settle on the small fish doodle placed near the menu, a few other animal drawings scattered around as well.

-

{Part 1. Side Story 1. Side Story 2. Side Story 3. Side Story 4. Side Story 5.}

[To celebrate the Caleb update! A two parter! I hope you guys like this new installment, if you guys got more caleb ideas or your favs, let me know! Thanks for reading! See yall later!]

@mangooes @deputy-videogamer @yoongi-tunes @3ophelia3 @kuni-k @paledonutking @i-literally-dk @liz9898

[ineffableaddiction]

Mirroring

I know, mirroring is not anything new in Good Omens. I highly appreciate the nuance it takes to build on the same theme through two (or more) seemingly (and sometimes actually) different stories.

There is one that has been stuck in my brain for awhile though.

Let me share….

The Final 15

This has been analyzed from millions of angles, so I’ll be brief. Crowley cleans the bookshop and plans to take Aziraphale to the Ritz. He attempts confession of some sort, only to be interrupted by the angel bringing him good tidings of great joy while looking like The Them when Adam made them smile. The two awkwardly talk, each thinking they’re making grand gestures (and they really are, in their own ways). Things go… not as either of them would have liked. And then… the kiss and aftermath that broke a billion hearts.

This scene has always seemed very Crowley to me. Bold. Grand gestures. Blatantly emotional. (My evil demon drama queen). This scene has an in-your-face impact. There is a reason that almost everyone that saw this had a visceral reaction to it.

NOT the Final 15

But if we pull back, we see a parallel story. A grand gesture. A declaration of love. A missed opportunity to work together.

And…

One of them choosing to go to Heaven.

Think about it. Aziraphale plans a ball in the bookshop, one he’s quite excited about. But, in true Aziraphale fashion, he hides his emotions away and lets the Nina and Maggie coupling attempt to explain away his excitement.

I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me.

Our favorite angel has plans. Is he going to declare his love? Possibly, but maybe not. Will Crowley be invited to live at the bookshop? This seems likely, given the previous “our car” and “our bookshop” banter. Whatever it is, it’s a step forward.

I would like to spend…

Just look at Aziraphale’s excitement as he asks Crowley to dance.

But…

Hell decides to bust up the party. Not Crowley’s fault, but disappointing.

This is where some things seem to get overlooked.

A group of the two of us

At one point, before Crowley escorts the humans out, Aziraphale asks Crowley to hear his idea. He didn’t say plan - he wanted Crowley’s input. After all, it worked so well when they put their heads together when they were trying to protect Jim.

You can’t leave this bookshop

But Crowley doesn’t listen.

He moves the humans to safety, basically just walking them across the road.

And he doesn’t come back. Instead, he goes to Heaven. Because he thinks it is the way to help everyone.

During the time Crowley was in Heaven, Aziraphale didn’t know where he was. There were demons outside the bookshop. The human-shaped being he loves might be discorporated. Maybe even erased. And he had two humans and an amnesiac archangel to help him protect his and Crowley’s home.

That makes this scene tug violently at my heart:

So, to recap….

1. Heart eyes plans something special

2. This is ruined by occult (or ethereal) beings

3. Heart eyes tries to get their object of affection to stay at the bookshop and work together

4. Object of affection leaves the bookshop anyway

5. Object of affection goes to Heaven because they think it will solve/protect something

Then….

6. Object of affection comes back. They always come back.

We have Aziraphale’s quiet, understated version. We have Crowley’s flash bastard version.

Season 3 will hopefully bring us their version. For them, together is beautifully better.

[somnus-lucis-caelum]

Aerith knew what to do. Somnus was relieved that he had actually guessed right and Aerith agreed on having her handle such a situation first. Slowly, he felt like he was beginning to understand the dynamics of this family. Even if it still was such a strange thought… to imagine that maybe in just a few weeks… or days, he would move with them and then belong to their house.

Would he ever feel at ease of voicing his own ideas like this again?

Would he always just feel safer with Aerith being so close?

As much as he needed her for such tense situations, it seemed that she needed him in return. The ritual would be something special. Surely it was unlike what the farmlands did, though Somnus was curious to learn more about their customs. Had Aerith not mentioned that the Cetra didn’t… fear death? That all just went back to the Lifestream… that was a comforting thought, too. Similar to their Beyond. Maybe those places were the same after all.

 Watching her hands for a moment, Somnus then closed his own around hers again. It was easy by then. He had done it before and it helped to calm her once more, hopefully. The smile he gifted her upon that was as gentle as one could be at this topic.

“I think Nikolaos’ family would like that. They own a vineyard, they take great pride in that.”

It was a sweet gesture. Nikolaos would get all the honours and laudations from having been a soldier. The entire army would be there.

“He will be cremated come sunset. We will walk up to the hill at the coast and carry him there. My father will say something. His family, too, if they wish. And the pyre will be lit by everyone who lays down a piece of wood and flowers with their prayers for him to send him on his way to teh Beyond.”

Aerith hadn't noticed the glance. Her full attention rested on Roran, and her expression deflated a little as he announced his wishes. Their Uncle followed, though kept a respectable distance, leaned up against one of the stone pillars as he watched over the boy. A moment later he gave a sharp little whistle — the rumbling was an obvious sign of Nidhogg's approach to the balcony.

She glanced down at her hands. Everyone felt the same, they all wanted to pluck away Roran's pain but that wasn't possible. And even if it was, it wasn't honouring Nikolaos. Those memories would carry with him for life — she just hoped that he could recover from them, hoped that he was young enough that his mind stripped away the details and faded the worst of it all with time.

It was only when Somnus inched a little closer and spoke in a hushed tone that Aerith lifted her gaze to meet his. Her attention lowered to the space between them... in one decisive slide, she made it so she was the one who moved the most, claiming the spot where her father had sat. Angled to Somnus like this, their knees very nearly touched, but not quite.

"Leave it with me." she whispered back. "If we bring it up now... it's not a good idea. But if Ror has a lot of trouble tonight, I'll raise it with my parents then." If they asked her how she could possibly know such a detail, she would tell most of the truth. That she had spoken with Prince Somnus a lot. Her father didn't need another reason to eye him warily.

Then her brows furrowed a little. Burial rites were different in Lucis. But... surely... it wouldn't mean Nikolaos was on display, not when... no. Her head shook that rogue thought away. "Is it true that warriors are cremated here?" she asked, a genuine question.

She seemed to struggle then. Her hands flexed — an Aerith-specific tell that she was grasping for her words, and not sure how to get them out. Her mouth closed and opened again, as did her hands. But she got there. "I could decorate the urn, if... if that is something agreeable. I don't want to step on any toes, but he is a hero, and he deserves something more elaborate is all..."

[kneazle]

More of the tsunami fic! Probably the weakest part (in my opinion) but I believe we're coming to a close with this soon maybe one more part? 😊 again thank you to everyone whose shown this love, I appreciate it more than you can imagine 💕

Tags are under the cut but let me know if you want to be removed! (hopefully I didn't miss any of you that wanted to be added!)

part 1 • part 2

Tommy breathed heavily, cold seeping into his bones while his skin broke out in a sweat. It was an odd feeling, and one that didn't bode well for him. 

He didn't know how long passed since he lifted them onto the platform. His leg throbbed when there wasn't pain shooting up it, but he could do no more than he already had at the moment, having used his plaid button-up to stop himself from bleeding out like he was. There's no telling if it would hold, but it was something until he could get Jee to safety.

Tommy glanced down at where she was curled into his side and his heart clenched.

He looked up to the sky and closed his eyes for a brief moment. 

Please just let her be okay, please

The air was tense in the engine on the way to the pier. Worried glances were thrown his and Chimney's way but Buck avoided meeting those gazes.

They were on their way back from a quick call when it came in about the tsunami, everyone holding their breaths at the thought of another one. Buck felt their eyes on him and had grinned sadly, a weak joke about at least he wasn't there this time but not fully meaning it as another tsunami meant people hurt, lives lost. 

Until Chimney made a strangled noise from his seat. Choking out that Jee was at the pier with Tommy. That Tommy volunteered to watch her when Maddie got called in for a shift and their normal babysitter couldn't, and was planning on taking her there.

Buck's chest felt empty and constricting at the same time as Chimney spoke on the phone with Maddie for a few seconds. His worry burrowing inside, steadily growing at the sound of their voices. He didn't say a word but shared a look with Chim– yet what right did he have when this was their child? Bile rose in his throat that he pushed down, hands clenching. Jee and Tommy were god knows where and in what state, but Buck would do anything to trade places with them at this moment.

"Uncle Tommy Uncle Tommy!"

Tommy's eyes shot open, blinking rapidly at Jee's shouting and shoves. Fuck. He internally cursed at himself for not staying focused, having felt drowsy– no doubt an infection but there was no time to think more on it.

"Look!" 

He sucked in a breath. A boy of about seven or eight was coming their way yelling and crying for help, holding onto a board that was barely keeping him afloat. Tommy saw this little boy with soaked curls, wet black glasses that slid down his nose– and Tommy turned to Jee, "Stay right there Jee don't move!" He told her quickly.

Tommy jumped back into the water and grunted against the pain as he swam out enough, grabbing for the boy as soon as he was in reach. 

He didn't hesitate to cling to Tommy who held the young boy to him. "I got you buddy, I got you, hang on alright?"

Relief slammed into him so hard when they were all on the platform and Jee didn't move an inch, that Tommy let a tear escape mixing with the wetness of the water. Fear clawed its way in his chest.

"Thank you!" The boy coughed out, body giving a big shiver as his lower lip trembled.

"What's your name kid?" Tommy asked softly. "I'm Tommy and this is my best buddy Jee."

He rubbed at his nose, wiping water from his eyes. "D-Danny."

"Alright Danny, can I know who you came here with?" 

"My b-big brother, he- he got pulled away." Danny whimpered, and Tommy could have cried the way Jee scooted closer, her little hand coming to hold Danny's slightly bigger one.

Tommy wrapped two terrified children in his hold, trying to stay awake and focused on them and not the feeling of his body fighting for sleep with the piercing throbbing pain spreading through him.

Fear wasn't new to him– but this was an entirely new kind of fear he realized.

@not-as-straight-as-i-appear @todd-harper @klutzygirl @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @bidisasterevankinard @comfortingevanbuckley @laundryandtaxesworld @tommykinard @sherlockismarvelous9-1-1 @mmso-notlikethat @iphyslitterator @racerchix21 @a-mel0n @station18908 @beckym2001 @bi-bi-buckleys @loulou-land @tommykinard6 @beanarie @fuselsstuff @chococara25 @owlgirl495 @thestrangestthlng @buckleyskinards @nznaturalkiwi @daughterofscotland @livelaughlou @hyperfocusthusly @teabroomsandbooks @thecarrott @tistai

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 55

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You sigh in relief, that was close... too close, you almost had to think about some of the stuff you really don't want to aknowledge.... Hopefully Joel doesn't get funny ideas from that.

Sure, you might have gotten a slight bit attached to one mortal...or two...but it's just more fun this way! Yes! Nothing more to it. Nothing at all... And well you don't need to justify yourself to him anyway! Who is he to question you? ... Outside of like being the literal sky.

You are digging your metaphorical hole deeper at this point.

...

ANYWAY, It's time to go back to your vessel now, It's been a long enough time that it shouldn't be too weird for you to wake up... Well it might still be but at this point you are too bored to care.

You just give it a bit of a push and you open your eyes.

Ugh, It's way too bright in here and now that you are back inside the body the pain has somewhat returned, going to have to fix that at one point tll. You never understood why humans were made to be so fleshy and weak and sickly in the first place...

You push yourself up on the medical bef, the muscle mass in the arms is mostly intact with minimal athropy luckily, the legs are pretty much the same so not an horrible state by mortal standards at least... The door to the room opens, It's a nurse... She seems shocked to see you awake, she quickly dashes to your bedside to check on some monitors near you...then after a few minutes of questions that you really didn't care about she nods and leaves to make a call...

Soon after Cub burst trough the door, covered from head to toe in water.

"Grian? I was told you were up."

"That I am ..."

You should probably be asking questions right, they think you have been unconcious for the last week or so.

"... What happened? The uh nurse that found me when I woke up didn't explain much."

There! Perfect! Now he thinks you are clueless and your divinity is once more kept secret, good job you!

"You ...got shot protecting Hotguy from a sniper"

"And how long was I...?"

"Oh just... A bit more less then two weeks"

"Hmm."

...

The silence that follows is akward, you just want to get this over with so you can leave and the two of you barely know eachother... You really want to ask about what the associations current plans are for you but you can't just ask that, you already made Cub suspicious with the blood samples way before everything went down...

...Ok maybe you can phrase it in a non-suspicious way, It's a better option then laying on the bed for who knows how long.

"So... What now?"

"Uh?"

"Can I like ...leave now?" That should sound earnest enough hopefully.

"What?"

Cub is not the expressive type, you have gathered that from the little you have seen of him. This is not an exception, he just tilts his head before giggling a bit, you really can't tell if It's genuine or not.

"Grian, you just woke up from a coma you- you can't just...you can't just get up and leave."

"Oh..."

Well then, you messed it up, he's -

"Where would you even get that idea? Is that something you have done before? Wake up from a possibly life ending injury and just leave?"

There is a right answer is. . . You don't know what that is, you have no clue what he wants you to say. So you do a bit of gambling.

"Yes yes, many times, all the time"

His smile falters a bit, this somehow feels more like genuine confusion or thought...he just looks at you, did you say the wrong thing? You should have just done the mind reading trick... No, you gave yourself a challenge, if you just used all your powers this wouldn't be any fun anymore.

...

He doesn't even say anything else he just keeps looking, you tilt your head a bit and it seems to bring him back.

"Right... Well, I'll be speaking with the medical staff then."

"Sure."

He slowly gets up and after a few seconds goes to open the door and leave... He stops just as he reaches for the door.

"And Grian?"

"Yeah?"

"Scar is worried, should -"

"Tell him to come by."

"Alright"

And like that he's gone.

*End of Chapter 10*

[out-there-tmblr]

Young zaundads wip (37)

***

"Five bronze," Babette says, when Silco asks if he can borrow clothes for a day. "With a thirty bronze deposit, in case they don't come back in the same condition."

In case they don't come back at all, Vander thinks. "I should come with you."

Silco rolls his eyes. It's not the first time Vander's suggested they should do this together and every time Silco says he'll draw less attention on his own. Someone Vander's size is going to be noticed in Piltover.

"I mean it," Vander says. "You've never even been over the bridge before. At least I've been in Piltover."

"As a child. Picking pockets while your mother worked," Silco replies, picking through the choice of shirts Babette spread over the table. "There is no way anyone looks at you and doesn't immediately know you're from the undercity."

"But you'll blend right in?" The worst thing is that Silco might blend in up there. He's always been a little too pretty, manners a little too fine, to fit in well in the mine.

"In the right clothes, hopefully." Silco holds up a black vest and a burgundy shirt to Babette, but she shakes her head. Silco picks up a pale green shirt instead, with an embroidered collar and fabric so thin you'd be able to count his ribs. "It would be a different story if Babette had any clothes that would fit you. You don't, do you?"

The yordle tilts her head, sizing Vander up shamelessly. "A pair of curtains, maybe."

"Cute," Vander says and Babette shrugs at him.

Silco strips off, and pulls on the too-thin shirt. "This isn't dangerous. It's not illegal to enquire about land ownership with a council office."

"And we all know enforcers have never arrested someone doing something that's technically legal." Vander crosses his arms, still unhappy. He watches Babette fetch a different vest, a rich blue, and a silver-grey long jacket to finish. The jacket is a little too tight on the waist, doesn't quite button up, but the overall look…

He looks like a topsider, wearing pale colours that would be smeared with soot by the end of the day. A shirt too thin to be practical, a jacket cut too close to be comfortable. He looks like someone else.

"Do up every button." Babette eyes Silco carefully. "You might need a tie."

Neither of them has any idea how to tie it, but Kane hustles Silco out of Babette's kitchen and makeshift office to sit him in front of a mirror. It takes a few demonstrations and a few practice runs, but Silco gets it eventually. Silco eyes his reflection, all sharp, pressed lines and soft colours. "What do you think?"

Kane laughs, her blond curls moving with the sound. "You look like a topsider wearing your best clothes. Try to look a bit more relaxed, like you wear this every day."

Silco looks at Vander in the mirror. "What do you think?"

"I think I'd feel better if I was coming with you," Vander says, and there's a flash of worry on Silco's face that suggests he might feel the same. It's gone quickly but it was there. "But I'm itching to punch you, so you look like a Piltie."

"How reassuring."

***

Vander does his best to hide his nerves, but he doesn't truly relax until Silco turns up at the mess hall, two hours before curfew. He's back in his own clothes: thick dark pants, dark cotton tops soft with wear, sturdy mining jacket. Seeing him is such a relief it makes Vander grin.

"Finally," Connol says, getting up and taking the spare seat next to Benzo, leaving Silco space to slide up against Vander. "He's been waiting for you all night."

"I was at Babette's." It's not a complete lie. There's dark liner along his lashes, a sure sign that Silco changed at Babette's on the way here. "Her workers had a few requests."

"If you get any more of that red lip stain," Felicia says, leaning across the table, "I want first dibs. I'm nearly out."

"Noted," Silco says, going so far as to pull out his notebook to actually write it down. He does keep records of requests and waiting lists.

Vander finishes his next drink and then makes their excuses. It's not that he doesn't trust his friends, but talking in a crowded hall isn't smart. They walk to the far side of the courtyard and then duck into the old mining tunnels, following their path back to their room. These days, Vander could walk that path in the dark.

"How did it go? Any trouble with the enforcers?"

"Turns out the enforcers don't bother you if they think you're one of them." Silco steps through the tunnel, sure-footed and certain, even with the lantern turned down low to preserve power. "It went better than expected. The land is abandoned, it was never sold. There's no access to the river or water, and no coal beneath it. It's considered worthless."

Just because Pilties won't pay for it, doesn't mean they'll give it away for free. "But it still has a price, right?"

"Administration fees to transfer ownership. A certificate fee to be able to prove it. I even had to pay for a copy of the forms to complete," Silco pauses, looking up at Vander as he holds the door open. He closes it behind Vander and locks it with a little metal latch Connol made. "Eighty-seven gold all up."

"So not impossible," Vander says, "but…"

"More than we have right now," Silco finishes. "There's a delivery of gas masks coming next week, that will get us close. But I'll have to check with the harbour master and see what ships are due before the end of the month."

Vander shrugs his jacket off and hangs it up. Everything they buy is based on trust and spoken agreements. They're not topsiders with legal contracts. If they don't have the funds to pay for each delivery, the next delivery won't come. They can withdraw more funds when the cash box comes next but they'll need enough funds to pay the next month's deliveries as well.

Silco holds out his jacket and Vander hangs it inside his own. They get undressed quietly, Silco lost in his own thoughts, as he undoes buttons and hangs clothes around the room. Turn the lantern down until it's a bare glow in a room of shadows.

"So it will take some time," Vander says, getting into bed. He holds the blankets up until Silco slides in beside him. "We didn't expect it would be easy."

Silco gets in, bare skin cool against Vander's side and feet this side of freezing. He curls up against Vander, head resting on Vander's arm. "Is it too much to ask that something could be easy?"

Vander presses a kiss to Silco's forehead. "Maybe this is the easy part."

"What?"

"You and me," Vander murmurs against his skin, wrapping an arm around Silco's lean chest. "Maybe that's the bit we get easy."

There's just enough light to see Silco's smile, the pleased glitter in his eyes. "Maybe."

***

[sequinsmile-x]

The Way to the Words

Emily struggles to tell Aaron she loves him. At least, she struggles to tell him in English.

AKA - 5 times Emily tells Aaron she loves him in another language, and 1 time she says it in English.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is an idea I've been playing around with for a while, but was spurred on to write it after I got an anon about Emily and all of the languages she speaks.

This is soft (because we all deserve softness right now) and hopefully funny in parts! These idiots love each other a whole lot.

Also, just a note that I don't speak any of the other languages in this. Where possible, I have run the line past someone I know who speaks it, or I have run it back and forth through several online translators to make sure it's as correct as I can make it, and read articles on word positioning/how it should be written.

(Second also: I know Arabic is meant to go from right to left, but Tumblr won't let me format it like that, but it is correct on Ao3)

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: the tiniest, smallest, bit of spice possible. Blink and you miss it kind of stuff. (Rated T)

Words: 6.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

Technically, she’s the one to say it first. It’s something she tells him years down the line when they talk about the early days of them, her smile soft and sleepy as their baby rests on her chest as she insists that she’d whispered those three little words weeks before he had. 

She just so happened to say them in a language he didn’t understand. 

The first time, she doesn’t plan it. 

They walk back to her apartment after their first date, their hands tangled together as they swing them back and forth ever so slightly. She was anxious. Shy in a way she hadn’t been in years, and she knows it’s everything to do with him and how he makes her feel. It’s something about his smile and the way he looked at her that would make her feel giddy. It would feel ridiculous if it was anyone else. If it wasn’t Aaron, the man she’d been in love with for longer than she could admit even to herself, she’d tell herself to get it together, would remind herself she wasn’t a lovesick teenager but a grown woman. 

With him, it didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t care that she’d spent hours picking something to wear, or that she’d curled her hair twice. She wanted to make the effort, to take her time for what she knew would be her first last date. A small part of her had worried at first that things would be awkward, but it had been like their dinners usually were, only with hand holding across the table and the occasional kiss exchanged between anecdotes. She wanted to know everything about him, everything big and small, and she wanted him to know everything about her too. Wanted him to help her break through the walls she didn’t know how to tear down herself, wanted to hand him the tools she’d never shared with anyone else. 

Her shoulder knocks against his as she digs her keys out of her bag, and he smiles at her, his hand slipping to her hip as she unlocks the door. She looks up at him, sees the uncertainty in his eyes, and leans up to kiss him, her lips catching the corner of his. 

“Do you want to come in?” She asks, smiling when his eyes go a little wide, his own anxiety about what to do and how to act obvious. He’d told her it had been a long time since he’d been out on a date, that he was unsure how to act and what to do, and she’d kissed him, barely pulling back to tell him that she was out of practice too and that she didn’t expect any more than just him. He had arrived to pick her up with flowers nonetheless, a bunch of sunflowers squished between them when she kissed him as he explained he’d picked flowers that wouldn’t poison Sergio. She places her hand over his on her hip and squeezes, “For a drink,” she smiles and winks at him, “And maybe some more kissing.” 

He laughs and nods, “Of course, I’ll come in Em.” 

She leads him inside and locks the door behind them, secretly hoping she won’t unlock it again tonight, that he’ll stay in whatever capacity he’s comfortable with and that she’ll wake up next to him in the morning. 

“Wine?” She asks, as she walks towards her kitchen, “Or I have a very nice scotch that Dave bought me along with a cast iron skillet as a moving in present.” 

Aaron had been her first visitor to her apartment upon her return from Paris, and Dave had been her second. It wasn’t the best place she’d ever lived, but also not the worst. It was good enough for what she needed for now, and the best she could do for a person whose credit score had reset when she’d ‘died,’ and who had only just gained access back to her trust fund. For a few months, whilst legalities were unravelled and everything that had been put in place in the wake of her death was reversed, she’d lived like most people did - on her salary. 

Aaron chuckles as he follows closely behind her, his hands in his pockets as he looks her up and down and makes no secret of it, “He got me the same thing when I moved out of the house and into my apartment,” he says, leaning his hip against the kitchen island, “He said no home is complete without one.” 

“He said the same to me,” She laughs, “I wonder if he just has a closet full of the things for when someone he knows moves.” She lifts up the bottle of scotch, “So scotch?” 

“Yes please.” 

She pours them both a generous measure and hands him one of the glasses, her fingers skipping across his as he takes it from her, “Let’s go sit down.” 

She sinks against him on the couch, giving him no chance to overthink their closeness or what she’d want. She pulls a nearby throw over their laps and rests her head on his shoulder, the mix of the smell of him and the scotch enough to relax her, a contented sigh escaping her before she could even try to contain it. He wraps his arm around her, his hand against the bare skin of her arm so he can trace patterns against her, chasing a shiver he causes with the callouses on his fingertips. 

“You okay?” He asks, and she hums as she nods, tilting her head upwards so she can kiss him, the hand not wrapped around her glass on his cheek so she can hold him in place. 

“I’m fine. More than fine,” she says, kissing him again, “Thank you for a lovely date.” 

He smiles and holds her closer, “You’re welcome,” he clears his throat, the anxiety he’d felt earlier making a speedy return, “We should do it again soon. If you want.” 

“Of course I want to,” she replies, as if it’s obvious - because to her it is - but her smile slips when she sees relief in his eyes and she frowns as she takes his glass of scotch from him and places in on the coffee table with hers, “Aaron, why wouldn’t I want to go on another date with you?” 

He shrugs as she turns to look at him properly, her knees pressing against his thigh as she uses the hand on his cheek to make him look at her. He sighs and his hand falls to her knee, his thumb catching the hem of her dress as he runs it back and forth. 

“I don’t know,” he breathes out, “I guess I’m waiting for you to realise you could do better than me.”

That’s what does it in the end, what makes the admission she’d been holding back all night escape without warning. Her concern that it’s too soon kicks in too late to say nothing, so she falls back on an old trick from when she was young and wanted to curse at her parents without them knowing. 

She speaks in another language. 

“Я люблю тебя.” 

He furrows his brows together and fights a smile. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, the use of the nickname making her breath catch in her throat, “I don’t speak…I want to say Russian?” 

She chokes on a laugh and nods, “Yeah, that…was Russian,” she presses her lips together, “Sorry, I said ‘nothing’s better than you.’”

If he knows she’s lying, he doesn’t say anything. He nods as he accepts her answer and he leans in to kiss her, his lips stamped against hers before he pulls back. 

“Nothing is better than you either.” 

He stays the night, and when she wakes up with his arms wrapped around her she wishes she’d been brave enough to say it in a way he understood.

___

Two

She grumbles as she sinks onto the couch, curling in on herself as a cramp rolls through her belly. She’s about to talk herself into getting up to take painkillers, her medicine cabinet never having felt further away, when there’s a knock on the door followed by the sound of the key in the lock. 

“Sweetheart?” 

She groans as she sits up, looking at her boyfriend over the back of her couch, “What are you doing here?” 

“It’s nice to see you too,” he quips as he steps into her apartment, holding up a bag from CVS, “I brought you some supplies. I can leave afterwards if you want.” 

She hums and watches as he locks the front door behind him, “Where’s Jack?” 

“By the time I left the office he’d already eaten with Jess, and when I told him you weren’t feeling very well he told me to come look after you.” 

She smiles as he sits next to her, “I really am fine,” she says, taking the bag as he hands it to her, her eyes going wide when she sees the bag full of her favourite candy, painkillers and a couple of boxes of tampons. She looks up at him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t entirely understand, “How did you know? I only told you that my stomach hurt.” 

He smiles at her, his dimples carved out deep in his cheeks, “I lived with Haley most of my adult life. And I am a grown-up. I know what a period is, Em.” 

It makes her ache. Makes her feel stupid for even trying to hide this from him in the first place, her jaw tight and her temper wearing thin when she’d almost yelled at him when he asked if she was okay for the dozenth time that day. She’d left the office the moment she could and told him she’d call him later, forcing a smile as familiar cramps she’d felt for most of her life rolled through her. If she was honest with herself, she’d wanted to bask in his comfort. To lean against him as he laid his giant, warm, hand on her stomach like he was her own personal heating pad, but she didn’t how to ask. She should have known that she didn’t need to ask. He’d always been better at figuring out what she needed before she did anyway. 

She nods and presses her lips together, “You even got the right brand.” 

He shrugs, “I only bought the ones you have in your bathroom.” 

She laughs, “I once asked a boyfriend to buy me tampons and he looked at me like I’d asked him to murder someone for me.” 

“Well, it sounds like he didn’t deserve you.” 

She looks up at him, her lips pressed tightly together, and she reaches out for his hand, “Thanks honey, this is…really sweet.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says and he leans in to kiss her cheek but she turns her head to capture his lips instead. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he kisses her again, lingering a little longer this time, and she sighs into it, “I can go home if you’d rather be alone.” 

She’s shaking her head before she can even really think about it, “No,” she replies, “I want you to stay.” 

He kisses her before he pulls back, “I’ll make us some hot chocolate, and bring you some water so you can take your painkillers. And then we’ll watch whatever sci-fi nonsense you want to watch.” 

She scoffs in fake annoyance, “It’s not nonsense,” she grumbles, narrowring her eyes at him playfully, “And I’ll have you know I was thinking of watching Die Hard.” 

He furrows his brow as he turns to look at her, “That’s a Christmas movie.” 

She groans and flops back onto the couch, tearing a pack of the candy he’d brought her open, “Don’t tell me I’m dating a guy who thinks Die Hard is a Christmas movie.” 

He raises his eyebrow at her from her kitchen counter, the tin of hot chocolate mix in his hands, “It’s set at Christmas.” 

“That doesn’t make it a Christmas movie, honey. There’s no small town girl visiting home from the big city for the holidays,” she says, unable to fight her smile when he smiles widely at her, the warmth of it settling over her like a comforting blanket from across the room, “And there’s no Santa Claus, and Kate Winslet doesn’t swap houses with Cameron Diaz,” she pops some candy into her mouth, “It’s not a Christmas movie.” 

“You’ve given this some thought,” he replies, smiling fondly at her, his eyes sparkling like she’d hung the stars themselves, “I guess we can watch it. Even if it is set at Christmas.” 

She throws a piece of candy at him, her fake irritation dying when he picks it up from the counter and eats it, the way he waggles his eyebrows drawing a laugh out of her. 

She rests her head in his lap when he joins her on the couch, her back to him as they watch the movie and he switches between playing with her hair and placing his hand on her belly unprompted, once again anticipating her needs. It was strange feeling loved like this, because she knew that’s what this was even if they hadn’t admitted it to each other yet. She’d never been cared for and enjoyed it or felt as if the other person wasn’t doing it out of obligation. 

She finds herself stuck again between wanting to say it and not being able to push past her fear. Instead, she reaches for his hand and links their fingers together, dragging them to her lips so she can kiss his knuckles as she mumbles against them, whispering so he doesn’t hear the Arabic she presses against his skin.

"أحبك"

“What did you say, sweetheart?” 

She shakes her head and turns back to look at him, “Nothing. Just…thank you for looking after me.” 

He stops himself from repeating what he’d said earlier and he nods, pushing her hair from her face, “Anytime.” 

___

Three

She’s bored of feeling like an exhibit at the zoo. 

Ever since she and Aaron had told the team about their relationship they’d been watching them closely, their attempts at hiding their fascination with their relationship almost non-existent. At work, it was bad enough, but here, in Dave’s house, as they had dinner together, it annoyed her. Every time they touched each other, or showed each other the tiniest bit of affection, the team would smile and nudge each other. 

She eventually excuses herself from the living room to the kitchen to get another glass of wine, needing a moment without being stared at so she doesn’t snap at some of the people she loves most in the world. 

She sighs and takes a large gulp of wine, closing her eyes as she swallows it, desperately trying to calm herself down, to soothe her fraying nerves. 

“Are you okay sweetheart?” 

She turns and smiles when she hears Aaron’s voice and she blows out a breath, “I just needed a minute.” 

He nods and points over his shoulder back towards the living room, “Do you want me to go?”

She loves him for it. Loves how well he knows her and how well he loves her, and she shakes her head and offers him a hand, “Never.” 

He walks over and wraps his arms around her, “They mean well. They just have to get used to it.”

She hums and loops her arms around his neck, “I know. I just wish they’d get used to it faster,” she huffs, “I hate feeling like a zoo animal.” 

“I know,” he says, running his hand up and down her back, “Me too.” He says, and she leans in to kiss him, pulling him closer as she sighs into it. When she pulls back, he stamps another kiss against her lips, “That’s a nice wine.” 

She chuckles, running her fingers through the short hair at the base of his head, “Barolo del Comune di La Morra,” she says, nodding towards the bottle on the kitchen island, “It’s Italian. Very nice wine. Not that you’d expect anything less from Dave.” 

“Say that again,” he says, his smile wide and bright, his eyes sparkling with as close to mischief as they ever did, “The name of the wine.” 

She presses her lips together and leans in to kiss him again, punctuating each word with a kiss, “Barolo…del…Comune…di…La…Morra.”

He barely hides a moan as she pulls back, just about able to remember where they were as he squeezes her hips, “You’re so beautiful,” he says, “Say something else.” 

She giggles, something only he was able to draw out of her, “In Italian?” She asks, and he nods. It feels like an invitation to carry on doing what she’d unintentionally started, and she leans in to kiss him, only pulling back far enough to speak, “Penso che tu sia l'amore della mia vita.” 

He smiles, even though he doesn’t understand, “What does that mean?” 

“I love the wine,” she says, hating that she can’t tell him the truth, that she can’t push past the fear she isn’t entirely sure she understands, “And you’re handsome.” 

He leans in to kiss her again, but they are stopped by someone clearing their throat in the doorway. Emily feels her cheeks go warm when she looks up to see Dave standing there, the look on his face letting her know just how much he’d heard. 

“Well, this is adorable.” 

She feels Aaron’s grip on her tighten and she lets her arms slip down from around his neck and she squeezes his hand. 

“Why don’t you go back through, honey?” She suggests, squeezing his hand again, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He almost questions it, she can see the argument he has with himself over it, but he nods instead, leaning in to kiss her cheek before he steps away, his hands in his pockets and his smile tight as he walks past Dave. She waits until he is out of earshot and she crosses her arms over her chest, “How much of that did you hear?” 

“Enough to know you’re playing a dangerous game,” Dave replies as he walks closer to her, “So…you love him?” 

“I…” she trails off, the words caught in her chest and she groans, tightening her arms over her chest. 

“Relax, bella. Even Reid only has to look at you to know you two love each other,” he says, smirking when she glares at him, “So why didn’t you tell him the truth? Worried he doesn’t feel the same way? Because I think it would be less of a waste of time to wonder if the Pope is Catholic.” 

She sighs and shakes her head, “No, it’s not that. I know he feels the same way. It’s just…” She blows out a shaky breath and laughs at herself, “I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never loved someone this much. It’s like my happiness depends on his, and it’s fucking terrifying.” 

He stares at her for a moment, his smirk disappearing as he nods in understanding, “I know it is,” he replies, patting her shoulder, “But you’ll get there. Take it from an old man who’s been around the block a few times. What you two have is rare,” he smiles at her, “I’m actually annoyed at myself for not seeing it sooner.” 

She smiles, “What, me and Aaron?” 

He nods, “I should have put money on you two years ago. You’ll get there, Emily. And he won’t mind if it takes a while. Because he loves you too.” 

She presses her lips together and nods, because she knows he’s right, “Thanks.” 

“No need to thank me,” he says, winking at her, “Just make sure Aaron makes me best man when you get married.” 

She rolls her eyes and fights off the desire to tell him to shut up, or deny that it was where this was all going, “I think that’s his choice, don’t you?” 

“Okay,” he says, shrugging at her, “Godfather of your firstborn then.” 

She scoffs, the sound turning into a laugh when it’s halfway out, and she can’t stop herself this time, “Oh shut up, Dave.” 

The thought of it makes her giddy, makes her stomach flip in a pleasant way, and she can’t shift her smile for the rest of the evening. 

___

Four 

Emily sighs contentedly as she flips the page of her book, snuggling further into the comfort of Aaron’s bed, the scent of him lingering on the sheets. 

The bedside table on her side of his bed was starting to look like hers. It’s where she kept the book she was reading and her favourite hand cream and other trinkets that had somehow ended up at his place. A necklace she’d taken off after work one day and left there. Her father’s watch. It was already starting to feel like home. But she had a feeling that had more to do with the little boy asleep down the hall and the man whose bed she was in, not the apartment itself. 

She was starting to spend more of her nights here than she wasn’t. She’d go home to feed Sergio, to scratch his head and sit with him for a while, and then she’d go to Aaron’s, let herself in with the key he’d given her weeks ago, and spend the night. He kept telling her to bring Sergio over with her, that he’d happily get a litter tray, food and whatever he needed, and it made her love him more. She was slightly resistant, not only because Sergio didn’t seem to like him that much, but because it felt like a huge step forward. An admittance that she couldn’t bring herself to say yet no matter how much she wanted to. 

The bedroom door opens and she looks up, her smile wide as she puts her book down, “Is Jack okay?” 

Aaron nods as he climbs into bed next to her, “He’s asleep,” he says, smiling as he pulls the covers over his lap and tugs her close, “He said he wants you to do bedtime next time.” 

She bites her lower lip, desperately trying to hold in a smile, her love for the two of them threatening to burst out of her, “Really?” 

“Really,” he says, kissing her forehead, “I’m not the only Hotchner in love with you.” She freezes, her shoulders tight as the admission washes over her, a choking sound of sorts escaping her. It seems to alert Aaron to what he’d said, and his eyes go wide. He swallows thickly and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “I…mean it Em. I might not have meant to blurt it out that way,” he says, smiling when she does too, “But I mean it. I love you.” 

Her silence is loud, echoing around them before it weighs heavily on them, settling on their shoulders as she tries and fails to say anything, “I…” 

She feels like a failure. Like a coward, because what was so wrong with her that she couldn’t tell the man she was in love with that she loved him. She curses every bad relationship she’d ever had, she curses her parents, and everyone who ever made it hard for her to accept love and affection, because Aaron deserved someone who could give that to him without thought. 

He deserved so much more than she could give him right now, and it made her ache. 

“Em,” he says, his smile too kind, “I’m not expecting you to say anything back,” he adds, pulling her closer, “I didn’t even mean to say it myself yet,” he stamps his lips against hers, “It’s okay.” It doesn’t feel okay. It feels ridiculous and she surges forward, her hands on his cheeks as she holds him in place, deepening the kiss so she can show him how she feels even if she can’t say it yet. She shifts so she’s in his lap, rolling her hips against his as she wraps her arms around his neck. He tenses, his hands firm on her hip as he tries to pull back “Sweetheart-”

She can see the doubt in his eyes, not in her, but in what she was trying to do, “Aaron,” she kisses him again, knocking her nose against his as she rests their foreheads together, “Please.” 

He looks at her carefully, tries to see the tiniest piece of uncertainty in her eyes, and he nods when he doesn’t find it, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers before he kisses her again. They undress each other slowly, and he rolls them so she’s under him, trapped between the warmth of his body and the sheets beneath her. It’s soft. Tender in a way she hadn’t known existed before him, something that she thinks would make her feel exposed with anyone else, and she links her fingers through his afterwards, lifting their hand to her lips to kiss his knuckles as she smiles at him, hoping he knows what she can’t put into words he understands yet. 

He falls asleep before her. It’s rare. Usually, she fell asleep first and woke up last, comforted by his arms and the safety that seemed to come with them. She lays there in the dark next to him, his arm heavy and warm over her waist, his breath even as it skips across the back of her neck, and she berates herself for not being able to give him what he needed, what she so desperately wanted to give him. 

Eventually, she turns in his arms, looks at him in the dark, his features just about visible now her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light. He looked younger like this, boyish almost, and it makes her love him more. She reaches out and strokes his cheek, smiling when he twitches but doesn’t wake up, his head moving in the direction of her hand, chasing her and her presence even in sleep. 

“Aaron,” she whispers, waiting to see if he’s awake, if his breathing changes, and when it doesn't she sighs, “Te quiero. Siento no poder decirlo todavía. Pero te quiero.”

She leans in to kiss his cheek and lingers there for a moment before she lays back against his chest, snuggles into him as deeply as she can and she closes her eyes, hoping she’ll fall asleep. 

When she wakes up in the morning, he’s already awake and smiling at her, and it somehow makes her feel worse.

___

Five 

“I can’t do it.” 

Aaron tries to hide his smile, she’ll give him that. He tries to swallow it down but fails as he turns to look at her and raises his eyebrow at her. She glares at him from her side of the couch and kisses the top of Sergio’s head twice in quick succession, scratching under his chin as she does so. 

“I’ve seen you stare a serial killer in the eyes and not blink,” he clears his throat to hide a laugh, “But you can’t give your cat medication?” 

She huffs out a breath and holds Sergio closer as she pouts in a way she’d deny if Aaron brought it up. Sergio had an ear infection, and whilst he’d been strangely okay with her cleaning his ears, he was resistant to medication. He’d eaten around it when she’d tried to hide it in his food, had ignored treats she’d tried to stuff it inside. He was refusing to take it, and that meant she had to make him take it. 

“I don’t want him to hate me,” she says, tearing her gaze away from Sergio to look up at Aaron, “Or for him to be afraid of me.” 

She watches as Aaron nods, once again stifling a smile, and she wonders if he’s going to tell her she’s as being as ridiculous as she feels. Instead, he sighs and offers his hands out, “I’ll do it.” 

She tilts her head at him in confusion, “What?” 

“He already hates me,” Aaron says, smiling when she rolls her eyes. 

“He doesn’t hate you-”

“He does, sweetheart,” he replies, his smile getting wider, “But if I do it, it’s not like he can hate me anymore, and his love for you will remain intact.” 

She knows it’s irrational, but she almost wants to be mad at him for the way he makes her love him even more. He was willing to do this for her, willing to accept her, admittedly silly, concerns about her cat hating her, and do what she couldn’t bring herself to do. For a moment, she pictures him holding a baby that was half her and half him whilst they took them to get their shots so she didn’t have to, and then passing the baby back over as soon as the deed was done so she could be their source of comfort. She has to shake her head to get rid of the image, to remember the soft weight in her arms was Sergio and not a small baby, and she sighs and nods as she passes him over. Sergio meows in displeasure, wiggling as he proves Aaron’s point as he tries to get a hold of him. 

“Do you have the medication?” Aaron asks, raising his eyebrow at her as she actively ignores his poorly hidden smirk as Sergio pushes his paw against Aaron’s face. She nods and hands him one of the pills and he takes it from her. He’s gentle as he grasps Sergio’s head and tilts it backwards until his nose is pointing upwards and his jaw opens slightly. Aaron drops the pill into his mouth and then lowers his head back down, holding his mouth closed until he visibly swallows, “There we go,” Aaron says, smiling at her as he lets go of Sergio, who immediately walks over to Emily’s side of the couch and climbs in her lap, meowing all the way, “And look at that, he still loves you.” 

She smiles at him, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks, and she snuggles Sergio against her chest, making sure she’s giving him plenty of head scratches as she does so, “Tell me all about it, baby. What did the mean man do to you?” 

Aaron chuckles and leans in to kiss her temple, “If he didn’t hate me already, he will by the time his course of antibiotics is done with.” 

She hums and turns her head, capturing his lips with hers, “Thank you. I know it’s silly-”

“You’ve never been silly a day in your life,” he says, kissing her again, “Do you want a drink?” 

“Yes please, honey,” She nods and presses her lips together, the words getting the closest to escaping as they ever had, the way he looked after her in ways she never could have pictured almost tipping her over the edge, whatever had been holding her back getting weaker by the day, “There’s some red wine on the counter.”

“Coming right up,” he says, winking at her before he stands. It makes Sergio hiss at him, and Aaron throws her a look that could only say I told you so as he walks away. 

“You have to be nice to Aaron, you know,” she says, talking to Sergio as she scratches between his ears, “He’s not going anywhere,” she sighs, “Je l’aime aussi. Je ne peux juste pas le dire.” 

“Did you say something, sweetheart?” Aaron asks as he walks back into the room. She shakes her head when she looks up at him, smiling when she sees the two glasses and the bottle of wine in his hands, and the pack of her favourite candy dangling off his finger. 

She wanted to say it to him, but after everything, after not being able to say it back when he’d said it to her a couple of weeks ago, she wanted it to mean something. 

“No,” she replies as he sits next to her, “I was just talking to Sergio.” 

He nods in understanding and puts the wine and her candy down on the coffee table, “Speaking of Sergio,” he says, opening up his palm to reveal a treat in his hand, “I thought he deserved this for being so brave.” He offers his hand out to Sergio who looks at him suspiciously for a few moments before he happily eats the treat out of his hand and starts purring. Aaron laughs and takes the opportunity to scratch between Sergio’s ears, which the cat leans into, “Maybe he’ll love me after all.” 

“Yeah,” she replies, biting the inside of her cheek to contain her smile, “He’d be a fool not to.” 

___

+  One 

“Anyone want to go for a drink?” 

Emily drops her pen down on her desk and turns to face the others, “I’m up for it.” 

“Of course you are, princess,” Derek says, smirking when she glares at him, “Do you think you could convince Hotch?” 

She smiles, “I could convince him of anything.” 

Derek groans, “God, I don’t want to know that.” 

She laughs as she stands up and she winks at him, “You asked. You okay to gather everyone else?” 

He nods and she walks up to Aaron’s office. She takes a moment to watch him through the window. He has his head down, his focus on the paperwork in front of him, and he looks every part of the stern, focused man she’d first met. He looks up at her, his eyes meeting hers, and then he smiles at her, a flash of her Aaron peeking out from beneath Hotch in the very room she’d met him in. He gives her a small nod and she walks in, making sure she closes the door behind her.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” 

She nods and walks over to his desk, keeping a respectable distance because she knows the others will be watching, “I’m okay. Derek is organising everyone to go out for drinks. I’ve been sent to rally you.” 

He chuckles, “They already know I can’t say no to you.” 

“Honey, we all know that,” she replies, “So is that a yes?” 

Aaron smiles, “I’d love to, but I have budgets to do, unfortunately, they’re important,” he says, his smile getting wider when she looks disappointed, “I could meet you later though.” 

“Yeah?” She asks, sinking her teeth into her lower lip, and he nods, “Okay, so we’ll meet you there?” 

“I’ll meet you there,” he smiles, her smile, and winks at her, “See you later.”

She smiles and turns to the door, reaching out for the handle as she replies, “See you later. Love you.” 

It takes her a moment to realise what she’s said, and she freezes, her breath caught in her chest as the words float in the air around them, as light as a feather in comparison to the heavy weight it had been on her shoulders for weeks now. She almost laughs, the absurdity at the easy, simple way she said it after she’d overthought it for so long not lost on her. The admission as simple as it was beautiful, as if they’d exchanged it as often as they had kissed, as if it wasn’t the first time she’d said it. Like it was something she’d said countless times before. She smiles to herself as she turns around because, in some ways, she has said it before. 

This was just the first time he’d understood her. 

She smiles nervously at him when their eyes meet, “Sorry,” she says, clearing her throat, “That…that wasn’t how I intended on saying that for the first time.”

He stares at her for a moment like she’s a skittish animal, like she might bolt if he made even the slightest of movements. He’d been careful to not tell her again since that first time a couple of weeks ago, like he was scared he’d push her away. He’d get part way through and then stop himself, smiling at her in a way that could only mean you know how I feel. It had hurt more than she thought it would, something that made her feel hypocritical because she hadn’t said it at all. 

She’s mad at herself for letting it slip like this because she’d wanted it to be special. But then he smiles at her in a room he’d once scowled at her in on that first day they’d met, and she doesn’t think it could have been any more perfect if she’d planned it. It was like their love story had permeated the walls. Like it was carved into them in a way someone would find in years to come when they were gone. When they’d moved on to somewhere new, their future still laid out in front of them as they stood by each other’s side. 

“No, don’t apologise. Never apologise for this,” he says, finally snapping into action, his pen hitting his desk with a thunk as he stands up. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to pull her into a hug or kiss, but then he remembers where they are, his eyes darting to the window of his office and the team all in the bullpen. He stops right in front of her and grabs her hand, their linked fingers out of view from everyone else, “I love you.” 

She presses her lips together and nods, every reason she had for being too afraid to tell him gone as if they’d never existed, “I love you too. I have for a long time. I hope you know it was never because I didn’t love you. I just…”

“I know,” he replies, squeezing her hand, “And I would have waited forever.” 

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her chest, “Forever? That would have been awkward at our wedding one day.” 

He laughs too and runs his thumb back and forth over her pulse point, “We would have made it work.” 

She wants nothing more than to kiss him, but she knows she can’t, not here anyway, and she blows out a breath, “I really wish I could kiss you right now.” 

“Me too,” he says, looking at her like she was the only thing in existence, like the world could burn around them and he wouldn’t notice because he was looking at her, “Later.” 

“Later,” she repeats, “I don’t want to go for drinks with the team anymore. I just want to go home with you.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for us, sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand again, their palms practically fused together, as if they were merging into one, one soul that had been split into two for all eternity until now, “Let’s go spend some time with our friends. 

“Plenty of time?” She repeats in a question, as if she didn’t already know he was it, that they were it, and he was the answer to the question she’d never known to ask. 

“Forever,” he confirms, and she swallows thickly, her heart almost beating out of her chest as she nods in response. 

“Forever.” 

[rubyfoxfyre]

Another Prologue to...

Hello there, and Happy New Year!

It's hard to believe it's been a whole month since the conclusion to Riddle of Magic! For those of you who were waiting to begin your lessons after the story had concluded, you can now binge the entire saga here!

But what's next?

Well, there are still more Charlastor stories to tell, both in the Riddle-verse and beyond!

While the main Riddle series has reached a conclusion, across the Horizon of the Umbral Sea, another adventure awaits! I'm excited to announce that the next chapter of Relative Horizons is tentatively scheduled to release February 23rd - just in time for that story to celebrate its own 1-year anniversary, with the conclusion to arrive March 9th!

After that, we're back to analyzing the Rumor Spectrum with a hopefully monthly release beginning April 6th!

Of course, much of the release schedule for these tales depends on the status of my largest project, a story that's been waiting for Charlie and Alastor's tale to conclude.

White Soul is coming soon - however, for exciting reasons I can't elaborate on, I can't offer a specific release date ✨yet✨. But I can show a little sneak peek into the creative process for it, and show a tiny preview of just how far it's come!

From this:

The first draft collection, filled with my terrible handwriting!

To this:

And this isn't even the full length, dear readers! This is just what existed as the 2nd draft!

The newest draft is still all-digital, but it'll get printed eventually. I'll post a before-and-after once the full saga is completed in its final publishing draft!

Maybe there'll be a raffle to guess the ultimate page count, or something. Stay tuned lol!

But, in all seriousness, I'm so happy that all of you are here, and I'm so excited to present these new stories to you all!

See you soon for a new update! 🍷

[eayef]

Maybe I was the only one who was very VERY confused about how Herbert kept dying, and kept coming back, but I have a theory!

The reagent! It's implied he's hyped up on it almost 24/7 in the deleted scene; the reagent could very well be the thing that helped him survive an oversized organ tentacle trying to suffocate him AND an entire tomb collapsing in on him. It reanimates people, who's to say that quality couldn't help keep people alive too?

Again, maybe everyone figured this out already, but if not, hopefully this helps!

[burningembers91]

The Girl at the Gig - Gyeong-Su x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Gyeong-Su loves music, but he can't sing to save his life. But you can, the girl who loves music as much as he does. The two of you follow bands around the country, but maybe with his lyrics and your voice, you could bring the house down with your own performance.

A/N: Based on this ask.

So, my thought process behind this fic was, in the TV show Gyeong-Su knew all the lyrics to Thanos' songs and he followed him around the country. So i thought, what if he was one of these people who followed multiple bands and spent all his money on gigs/concerts etc.? He's a talented musician, but can't sing and no record company wants to give him a chance. But then he meets you and sparks fly etc. etc. etc. I have a really sweet storyline planned out for him, and I'm trying to work out what kind of person Gyeong-Su would be. At the moment, I'm feeling that he'd be a bit dorky, but suuuuuper passionate, but also really nervous and sweet.

I also really struggled to find any good pictures of his character, or the actor that plays him so I've had to use his profile pic from the AsianWiki website. I couldn't even find his Instagram!

Gyeong-Su was a huge fan of music. He didn’t care what genre it was, so long as the music stirred something with him, he was a fan of that band for life. He spent every penny he earned going to gigs, from small, intimate performances, to sold out stadium shows. Everything about the atmosphere was electric, from the music, to the crowd, to the performer’s presence on stage.

Gyeong-Su longed to be a famous musician, dreamed about playing to sold out crowds across the globe. He was a talented guitar, drums and piano player, as well as a producer, DJ and songwriter, but he couldn’t sing to save his life. He’d attempted to send a few demos in to some record companies in the past, but he never heard anything back. He was convinced it was because of the way his voice sounded, like nails down a chalkboard. But he could never find anyone else to take on the vocals he wrote such passionate lyrics for.

There were a few people he met regularly at different gigs, people with the same passion for music as him. It was where he met you, the beautiful girl who was always in a band t-shirt, fighting her way to the front of the crowd. He’d never gotten up the courage to speak to you, not until one day he found himself down at the front of a Thanos gig with you. “I like your shirt,” he shouted above the music, pointing to the Thanos merchandise emblazoned across your chest. “Thanks!” you smiled back, your hips swaying in time to the music. “I made it! It’s part of my business; I make band t-shirts. Here, I’ll give you my Etsy page!”

That night, Gyeong-Su went home and scrolled through your page, buying six t-shirts. He made sure you knew it was him, leaving a little comment saying that he was the guy you met at the gigs. He didn’t have the money to buy these shirts, but he was so desperate to make a connection with you, to have something to talk about the next time you saw each other.

His order arrived a few days later, your neat handwriting on a small scrap of paper reading “Thanks for your order. Hopefully I’ll see you soon ;)”. The next gig, he wore one of your t-shirts, emblazoned with the folk artist Kim Jung Mi. “Nice shirt,” you smiled at him, pushing your way through the growing crowd. “Thanks,” he winked, “I know the girl who made it.”

You stood together the whole way through the concert, singing every word together. Your voice was amazing, a husky mezzo-soprano that made every hair on the back of his neck stand up. You were the girl he’d been looking for, the voice he needed for his music. He needed to hear you properly, needed to hear just you and the music. He made up an excuse about going to karaoke after the concert, a few of the regular gig-goers coming with you. But Gyeong-Su wasn’t interested in anyone else other than you. He insisted you sang first, listening with his mouth agape as you flawlessly performed a rendition of Dog Days are Over.

“I was wondering…” he said after your song was over, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Have you ever considered being a singer?” “Why?” you smiled, taking a large sip of your drink. “Are you going to tell me you can make me famous? All I have to do is meet you in a remote location and you’ll make all my dreams come true?” “What? N-No!” Gyeong-Su’s face went bright red, stammering over his words as he tried to regain composure. He’d never been good with words, had never been able to articulate himself properly. That’s why he loved music so much; it did all the talking for him. “Relax,” you laughed, “I’m kidding! I’ve dabbled in a few open mic nights, but nothing serious. Why?” “It’s just… I write music. I can play the instruments, I can DJ and I can produce, but I can’t sing. I’ve been looking for someone to sing a few songs I’ve written. Would you be willing to try?” You looked him up and down, the tall, sweet boy who loved music as much as you did. You’d been looking for an opportunity to spend more time with him, and this seemed perfect. “Go on then,” you winked, “send me some of your stuff and I’ll be in touch.”

You listened to his music later that night, reading the lyrics and memorising them. Gyeong-Su had a way with words that shone through in his song writing. It made you smile that a man who could write such powerful lyrics could be so shy in person. There was so much heart in his words, so much passion and the music itself gave you the most delicious goosebumps. How about we meet on Tuesday? You texted, after only hearing two songs. I love your work.

Gyeong-Su couldn’t sleep that night, excitement bubbling away inside you. His music was his life’s work, and he’d been knocked back time and time again. But he had you now; the girl with the band t-shirts and the voice of an angel.

Tuesday couldn’t come fast enough.

[milkoomi]

how i maintained a 4.0 gpa. ᥫ᭡

a lot of students strive to be the “perfect” student, me included! i’ve been able to achieve academic success, and i’m here to share my knowledge on how to do so! these are some things that have personally helped me, and so hopefully they can help you too! maintaining a 4.0 isn’t an easy feat, and i know that from first-hand experience. i haven’t always maintained this gpa, especially when i entered college, but i started implementing new things into my routine and study sessions that have helped me immensely!

let’s begin …

୨ৎ — daily/weekly planning

this was a game changer for me! especially coming back into college after taking some time off from school, planning my day/week out helped me tremendously! it helps you set aside time for schoolwork/studying as well as things that are more personal (i.e. self care, running personal errands, appointments/events, hang outs with friends/loved one, etc.).

time blocks

if you have a planner that includes an hourly schedule, use it! i recently got one that has one, and it’s helped me so much! getting an idea of a time frame for how long you work on school assignments or for studying can also help to alleviate any overwhelming feelings that a to-do list might give you (though, i am a huge fan of to-do lists personally!).

to-do lists

if you’re like me, and you enjoy lists, i highly recommend creating a to-do list! keep it simple if those kinds of lists tend to overwhelm you and create a more generalized to-do list.

generalized list example:

review course modules

complete 2 hours of work

rest for 30min - 1hr

journal before bed

the key with generalized to-do lists is to keep them very simple! maybe include the most important goals for your day/week, but avoid including every single thing you need to get done for the day!

୨ৎ — consistent routine

i’ve talked about routines a plethora of times, and you’ll hear so many others talk about it as well, but routines are so important when you’re on the road to academic success!

i’ve been able to feel more accomplished with a set routine during the week. waking up at the same time, ensuring i set aside time at night to myself, and time-blocking portions of my day to complete tasks! a good routine will help you stay on track.

even if you don’t have a set morning/night routine, still try to establish a good study/schoolwork routine! create a study ritual where you light your favorite candle, set the mood with ambient lighting (or whatever lighting you prefer), or maybe you have a designated study spot at a library or café!

if you do create a study routine, it would also be a good idea to freshen things up a bit here and there so that the tasks don’t start to seem mundane! maybe change up the location of where you study or maybe you might want to listen to a different playlist while you work or even starting with a different class instead of the usual first choice.

don’t be afraid to spice things up in your routine, even if it’s the smallest changes. doing so can also help prevent burn out!

୨ৎ — completing assignments ahead of time

working ahead (if possible) is always a great choice to make! or even simply just getting assignments done the day they were assigned is also a good idea! get your homework out of the way so that you can create more space for personal time to rest and recharge or, if you’re feeling energized and motivated, more time to focus on studying for upcoming exams!

also, making sure you get assignments done well before their due date also ensures that you work thoroughly and efficiently. it prevents rushed work and lessens the chances of any mistakes!

be diligent when it comes to your homework assignments! if you have the time now, get it done!

୨ৎ — attending all lectures

this is so important! catching up with missed assignments, notes, and lectures can be extremely overwhelming. it leads to that feeling of needing to rush your work and then creating that opportunity for mistakes. it’s also just, in general, difficult to keep up with your classes when you aren’t physically present in class. you lose the opportunity to ask questions in class, to take proper notes, to record lectures for later studying, and you miss out on key information/announcements from your teachers/professors.

of course, there will be days where you literally cannot make it to class, and that’s okay! don’t go beating yourself up for having to take a sick day, your health always comes first! be sure to communicate with your professors and to ask any and all necessary questions!

but i only bring this point up because it’s something that’s helped me succeed. plus, some of my grade depended on my attendance, which you’ll come to find while in college.

୨ৎ — creating connections

build relationships with your classmates and your professors! this is a really great way of ensuring you get good grades! how? well, as i mentioned in my post about how to study effectively, i brought up study groups. if you start building connections with your classmates, you’ll be able to create those study groups and work with others to continue to learn and study the material! it will help so much to have another friend who can help you out with a topic that you might be struggling with!

also, connecting with your professors is really great for 1. setting that good impression for yourself and 2. building that relationship with them allows for more comfort and ease of mind when you need to go to them for extra help and guidance! your professors are there to aid you in any way they can to help you achieve success in their class. i know it might be daunting to reach out to your professors, but i promise that they’re there to help you and that they are more than willing to guide you on the path to success!

୨ৎ — implementing study methods

i touched on various study methods in my post that i linked in the previous point! but study methods can give you a variety of new ways to learn the material! also, playing around with the material in different methods can spice up your study routine while also seeing what kind of methods get the topics to really stick.

i definitely recommend referring back to my “how to study effectively” post for a more detailed discussion on studying!

୨ৎ — romanticizing school

when i started treating myself as the main character, it gave me so much more motivation to get things done for myself. including my studies!

think of yourself as rory gilmore, blair waldorf, elle woods, hermione granger, or any of those iconic, studious characters!

how to romanticize your education:

set an aesthetic for yourself

light academia

dark academia

pink academia

coquette

there’s so many different aesthetics out there that you can play around with or follow to get inspiration! pinterest will be your best friend, and i recommend creating a school/study vision board with the aesthetic of your choice!

once you’ve settled on an aesthetic (or a few, whatever you’d like!) find school supplies that relate to what you chose! fancy notebooks, planners, cool pens/pencils/highlighters, and maybe be a new bag that fits into your style! having the supplies that bring you joy make your studying experience ten times better, trust me!

dress the part

again, take inspiration from your favorite educational icons! or simply, wear what you feel the most confident in! when you show up to class knowing you look good along with having those supplies that you know look aesthetically pleasing, you feel like you’re already a top student!

your study environment

this gets talked about a lot, but when i’m studying in my freshly cleaned room that’s been decorated to my liking and i have a nice candle going with my choice of lighting, i feel like my studying experience is a million times better! even when i go to a café to study or i’m in the library to get work done, i just feel like the main character in my own movie (which i am because, hey! it’s my life!)

let your workspace be your ideal space! when you work in an environment where you can get things done and you feel comfortable, you can accomplish so much.

study playlists

those ambient vibes playlists on youtube with those really aesthetically pleasing backgrounds on them are my go-to whenever i’m getting work done. it helps set the vibe for my sessions and it puts me in a good headspace to get into the grind! so pick a playlist that motivates you to get tasks done!

my favorite youtube study music videos:

Winter Jazz Library - Chill Crossing Hour

** i also recommend this channel for all their playlists!

Get to Work Sleepyhead - jelly

4-Hour Study with Me - Emmalilyn

** Emmalilyn has so many of these kinds of 4-hour study with me videos! i believe majority of them include the pomodoro method, so if that’s something you do or want to try i definitely recommend her channel!

2-Hour Study with Me - Tanyi

୨ৎ — final notes

those are all the tips i had to share with you all! this is what has personally worked for me, so there might be some things that might not work or you might do differently! regardless, you are capable of achieving great success throughout your academic career! never forget that. school is all about learning, and one of the things you learn is what works best for you and your road to success! do whatever works for you and play around with different ideas and methods! i wish you all the very best for your academic career! i’m rooting for you!

with lots of love, faustina 🌷

[sheeezu]

I’ve been trying to shift for the past five years. I love shifting and it’s honestly the one thing that kept me going all this time and gave me hope and it just felt right. Everytime I would feel demotivated I would change my mindset, think positively, and try again. Or I would take breaks and then try again. I have tried every method and then realized I didn’t like methods so I tried no methods and just intention which I liked but then the cycle would repeat after trying for so long and not shifting at all. I’ve had moments where I’ve felt myself shifting but never got further than that or actually fully woke up in my dr or wr. I’m a stubborn person and never wanted to give up on shifting because I know I can do it and I know I deserve it and it is what my soul wants. But lately I’m so burnt out with my cr life which never gives me a break and with trying to shift to the point where I’m thinking of giving it up even though I don’t want to and it’s been the one thing giving me hope. I’ve even tried not to try to shift and just go with the flow and simply affirmed but I still wake up here. I know a lot of other shifters feel the same way as me who have been trying for years. But I’ve reached this unfortunate point where I have lost a bit of faith and am too tired to try anymore even though it’s everything I want. It’s like I see it dangling in my face and see other people get it easily and I know I can have it too but I can never reach it and now it’s too exhausting. But it’s like even if I took another break, the cycle will just repeat like it has been. And trust me I’ve read everything and tried changing my mindset and thought positively and have had hope and know I can shift. I know this seems like I’m just ranting and having the most negative mindset so you’re like well of course this is why you’re not shifting, but genuinely after trying your best at something you’ve loved for five years and still nothing and in fact things are just getting worse in your life when you’ve done your best at juggling everything from work, school, family, and shifting, just to feel like you are going no where and lost everything anyways, that can break down even the most hopeful positive of people like me in my shifting journey. I don’t know if there’s any advice you can hopefully provide for this that I probably haven’t heard but thank you anyways for all you do and I’ve always admired who you are and how authentic you are. ❤️ who knows maybe something will miraculously change for me when I least expect it but for now here I am! ❤️

Of course, you're right, that I've probably got nothing new for you, but maybe what I'm about to say may ease your stress, make it fade away from background.

Shifting is dependent on which lens you to try to look at it.

If you looked at it through the eyes of your CR self, then of course, you'll remain your CR self.

But if you were to view it from your DR self's eyes, shifting won't be there, but your DR will be.

Shifting is all about breaking a mold. to solve shifting like any other worldly problems, robotically, like you're trying to pass on a test, is not how it works.

Simply assume you're not human. I know you've mentioned the struggle of juggling other activities alongside it, you have to let go of the crave to make yourself seem like "you've done enough", that is a human response to any situation.

I know my word would induce nothing but agitation in you, because it is simply not something anyone who works hard would want to hear, shifting does not require hardwork.

I would rant all I know in this post, to try to push you in the right direction, but I wouldn't like to be so unorganised.

I have already made much posts on my blog, which focuses on letting go of human identity and ideologies, so please, if you haven't come across the knowledge I can share, reach back in my inbox, so i could link all the posts I think could help you.

[alittlegiraffe]

Hi! I would love to request Eminem fic :)

The reader was popular singer who was gonna perform at Coachella. Eminem knew about the reader and all. After the performance Eminem was saying nice to things to reader. Eminem wanted to ask the reader out, but the reader declined due to rumors of him not wanting to date..? He tried ever single time to ask the reader out ( no smut please) thank you for reading this. I deeply appreciate it. 🥰

Title: 4 Times Eminem Tried to Ask You Out (+1 Time You Finally Said Yes)

Hi lovely! Hopefully this is close to what you wanted? It's pure fluff 😂

1. Backstage at Coachella

The energy backstage was electric, but you were unfazed. This wasn’t your first Coachella, and you knew how to command a crowd. The lights dimmed as your name was announced, and the crowd roared. You caught a glimpse of him as you passed the VIP area—Eminem, sitting casually with his team, his eyes following you like a spotlight.

Your performance was a hit, and the buzz afterward was palpable. Backstage, you found yourself face-to-face with him, his posture casual but his eyes sharp.

"That was incredible," he said, his voice low and unmistakable. "I’ve been following your stuff for a while. You’re... insane in the best way."

"Thanks," you replied, feeling a little flutter in your chest. "Coming from you, that means a lot."

He shifted his weight, scratching the back of his neck, looking more like Marshall than the persona of Eminem. "Listen, I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna grab a drink sometime. Talk music, life, whatever."

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—how could you not admire him? But the tabloids had painted a picture of Eminem as a man uninterested in dating. You didn’t want to get tangled in something complicated.

"That’s sweet, but I think I’m good for now," you said with a polite smile. "But thanks for the kind words."

You saw the flicker of disappointment in his expression before he nodded. "Yeah, no problem. I get it."

---

2. An Industry Party

Months later, you bumped into him again at an industry event. The room was buzzing with celebrities, but his presence was magnetic. He approached you with a drink in hand, his smile crooked.

"Hey, superstar," he greeted, his tone playful. "You’re not still mad I didn’t join you on stage at Coachella, right?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Not mad, but you definitely missed out."

The two of you fell into easy conversation, talking about music, fame, and everything in between. And then, he did it again.

"You know, we should hang out sometime. No pressure, just two artists talking shop."

You gave him an apologetic smile. "I don’t know, Marshall. You’ve got a bit of a reputation."

"What reputation?" he asked, leaning in slightly.

"You know what I mean. The whole 'Eminem doesn’t date' thing."

He frowned, clearly frustrated. "You believe everything you read?"

You shrugged, not wanting to push it further. "Let’s just keep it friendly."

3. A Studio Session

It wasn’t surprising that your paths crossed in the studio. You were both perfectionists, and the best producers wanted to work with you. When you walked into the room and saw him there, you couldn’t help but smirk.

"Do I need to start avoiding studios now?" you teased.

"Or maybe it’s fate," he shot back.

Over the course of the session, you couldn’t deny how easy it was to work with him. He was funny, sharp, and every bit the musical genius you’d expected. When the session ended, he lingered.

"You know," he said, leaning against the doorframe, "I’m not as complicated as people make me out to be. If you gave me a chance, I think you’d see that."

You sighed, hating how genuine he sounded. "Marshall... I just don’t know if it’s a good idea."

"Alright," he said, hands up in surrender. "But I’m not giving up yet."

4. The Late-Night Call

It was nearly midnight when your phone buzzed. You frowned at the screen—Marshall’s name lit up. Against your better judgment, you answered.

"Hey," you said, your voice soft with sleep.

"Sorry if I woke you," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "I just... I wanted to say I get it. Why you’ve been hesitant. I know I don’t have the best track record, and I don’t blame you for being cautious."

His vulnerability caught you off guard. "Marshall..."

"I’m not saying this to pressure you. I just... I want you to know I’m serious. About you. About getting to know you."

For the first time, you didn’t immediately shut him down. "I appreciate that," you said softly. "Maybe we can talk more about this sometime."

+1. The Time You Said Yes

It had been over a year since Coachella. In that time, you and Marshall had become friends. Real friends. He’d stopped asking you out, respecting your boundaries, but his feelings were always just beneath the surface.

You were sitting on his couch, laughing about a terrible reality show you’d been watching, when he said something that caught you off guard.

"You know, I’m really glad we’re friends," he said, his tone sincere.

"Me too," you replied, then hesitated. "But I think... maybe we could try something more."

His head snapped toward you, his expression a mix of shock and hope. "Wait, are you serious?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I’ve seen enough of the real you to know I was wrong before. If you still want to, that is."

He didn’t hesitate. "I want to. Absolutely."

And this time, you didn’t say no.

[beastgoddk]

State of Harley 2025

Talked about it before but I’m most likely going to be quitting my full time job. The plan, at least in the short term, is to work on art; I wanna make more games, and possibly open up commissions in the future (not soon, sorry). Frankly though, right now, I want time to work on my problems, have new experiences and be around people I care about, new and old. Lately I’ve been feeling some of the worst depression I’ve ever felt in my life. I cannot stop thinking about killing myself. Sorry, I’m a fraud, I know I wrote about telling you all to live. I want to be better. I want to embody what I talk about. I want to believe I can avoid stagnating or falling further into a spiral, and that we all can. I’m tired of feeling so alone and disconnected. I feel like I was only born five years ago. When I look at so many of the people around me I feel such a vast disconnect, watching them exist so effortlessly. I’ve spent so long ignoring these problems and feeling isolated that I feel like I need time to focus on fixing those things, more than a 9-5 job allows anyway. 

I’ve also wanted to focus on creating art for a long time now and felt dejected about being unable to do so. I’ve felt more and more disillusioned about the idea of ever being able to do art in the “industry”, or wanting to for that matter. The things most games are doing are just not something I really care that much about. And that’s if I could get stable, paying 2D art jobs. For a long time it felt like watching my dreams melt in my hands. I can’t wait any longer, I have to make a real attempt at this. I have to try making things I at least care about a little and see what happens. If I fail, at least I tried. I’m prepared to take that risk.

I’m scared. I know it’s risky, but I feel good about finally having the capability to actually attempt this. I look back 10 years or so to when I started learning to draw and I feel ok saying; I’ve worked hard to be in a spot where I can even consider doing this.

Anyway. Exciting things coming soon hopefully. Or maybe not, who knows. Maybe I’ll just spend the whole time being kidnapped and beaten up by other women, that’s fine too.