#juggling classes with work is tough

[silverzoomies]

Can you do 100 from the smut prompt list with Peter (Dark Phoenix version) but can you make it where the reader is his wife and he still is gentle and loving with her.

I really want to see how you would write a more romantic Peter

Pancakes

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, domestic, married couple, cock warming, risky sex, creampie, implied/referenced breeding

word count: 2,762

a/n: this one's for you, purple cat !! apologies, i'm rusty with my writing and characterization right now. probably will be for a while. sorry the ending's so abrupt !!

Peter races ceaselessly back and forth. Like a fast paced pendulum in full swing, he juggles his two most demanding responsibilities. The X-Men and teaching. His multiple jobs and total lack of free time are some of the many downsides of being a grown ass adult. He doesn’t wanna complain too much though, since the work is definitely rewarding overall. Like fo’ sho, he’s not gonna deny the perks.

But even with those sweet positives - making both money, and a name for himself; your superhero husband rarely has time for you anymore.

Peter hopes you’ll forgive him. Again. As he ambles into your shared room after another heinously long day, his body is littered in scrapes and bruises. Echoes of battles won. The wounds will surely heal by next morning. You know this as well as you know him. But you still insist on patching him up anyway, after Beastie’s already taken care of him twice over. You’re just so damn doting. It makes Peter feel even worse for waving you off.

He guarantees you a quick peck on the lips and a “love you, gorgeous.” Before he finally succumbs to mental fatigue. A tired fog of exhaustion beckons him to collapse into bed. You beg Peter to stay up a bit longer. An hour, at least. But just as you get a word in, he’s already conked out. Snoring away.

Within three hours, he wakes. You sleep soundly next to him. Snug as a lil bug. Peter presses a loving smooch to your sleepy head. Ruffling your hair, he bolts out the door promptly after.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Every day. For months on end. His schedule never seems to align with yours.

Peter misses you so bad. He misses spending time with you. Laughing together. Cuddling for brief instances, cuz he can never sit still long enough for it to last. He misses making small talk. Only to glance at the clock and find hours unknowingly passed. Peter longs to take you on spontaneous trips across the country again, trying pancakes at every small town diner he can find.

And to put it bluntly - he desperately yearns to make love again. To you. His smokin’ hot wife - Mrs. Maximoff - and no one else. After months of pent-up frustration, he’s about ready to burst at the seams. It physically pains him when he remembers how often the two of you used to bone. So many times a day. Every day.

Peter still wonders if his speedy swimmers are even worth a damn. With all the raw, passionate sex he had with you - it’s a miracle you never followed the Maximoff family trend of carrying twins.

He even misses the more shameful moments shared with you. Like the times he surprised you with truckloads of gifts, spoiling you rotten - after he forgot your anniversary. Again. And again and again and- …hey, he warned you, long before the two of you ever got married. Peter isn’t the most reliable lover. He’s never been “boyfriend material,” as they say. And he knows now, better than ever; he most definitely isn’t “husband material" either.

But he really does love you. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. About as much as he loves Wanda. Which is an astronomical amount of love, if he's being honest. And if he were born with some reality-warping mutation instead, Peter would move the heavens and Earth just to make you happy.

Times are tough for mutants these days, though. There’s still so much work to be done. Classes to teach. Rights to fight for. People to save. No shortage of those.

You know he isn’t to blame for his absence. And he knows you know it. But still...it just...it sucks! He needs to be there for you, as much as you wanna be there for him.

And when the X-family comes together on a Friday night for a much needed break - more than anything in the world, Peter looks forward to spending every second with you. As soon as you walk into the lounge room, Peter pulls you straight into his arms. You’re wearing a tasteful dress you picked out just for him. It makes you look like a goddamn knockout. But all he wants is to tear it off you and press his bare body against yours. To feel your soft, luscious skin get sweatier under the natural, burning heat of his own.

The team play a few board games together, sharing drinks, gorging on Remy’s best gumbo. Peter gets a slap on the wrist with a ladle, after Lebeau catches him sneaking a third bowl - before anyone else even has their first.

It’s an easygoing, chillaxed affair. And throughout the night, your silver fox husband keeps you close like a magnet. Attached at the hip. He’s uncharacteristically clingy, touching you as much as you’ll allow in a sociable space. Calloused hands tenderly graze your skin as he offers to hold your drink. Peter’s fingers splay against your lower back, curling in, drawing affectionate circles.

You make your rounds and mingle with the family. Peter follows you around like a lost dog in need of attention. He keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, taking every opportunity to secretly grope your ass. You sneak him a few wary glances. Wordless warnings. Bringing his drink to his lips, the fine lines of Peter’s dimples pull in a lazy grin. He averts his gaze elsewhere.

Once more, his impulsivity earns him a slap on the wrist. Not from Remy this time. But from you. Peter takes your subtle scolding as a challenge. Leaning closely into your vicinity, he mutters.

“Oh, it is so on.”

“Don’t you dare!” You whisper back, squealing after he gives you a light smack on your ass.

His teasing continues without warning.

You chat with the team, visibly tensing as Peter pulls a nonexistent strand of lint from your dress. His hot touch lingers dangerously close to your cleavage. You can’t help but blush. The warmth in your cheeks races across your skin, creeping through your supple bust. Left speechless, your words falter on your tongue. Peter carries the conversation for you with minimal effort, flaunting aloof charisma.

He cracks a poorly timed joke and it fails to land. Feigning his embarrassment, he hides his face in the fragrant crook of your neck. His teammates tease him for it. But what they don’t know is, it’s all a theatrical ruse. They don’t see the way his teeth nip your flesh before he pulls away.

During an innocent game of UNO, your husband’s lidded gaze leers at you from across the carpeted floor. Peter’s dark hues make a short gesture to the dip between your legs. Biting his lip, he meets your eyes again with a frisky look. You know that look all too well. Again, you blush profusely. Logan catches him in the act as he wiggles his silver brows. But the old timer makes no comment, shaking his head with a smirk.

The team later settles down for a movie. Taking their respective spots in front of the TV, snacks in hand, they all lounge around. Peter steals a cozy spot on one of the sofas. He leaves a space for you next to him. Bouncing a knee restlessly, he cooks up a number of sneaky ways he can tease you. But his plans are all tossed to the wind once you scooch your way between the couch and the coffee table.

You shimmy your ample ass in front of him. Is it intentional? Unintentional? You naughty, little minx. His virile gaze falls to your tush, so full and grabbable in your dress. In a split second, he grabs your waist and inches you back into the warm familiarity of his lap. Your body relaxes, your back against his chest.

Finally, at last, Peter cuddles his wife again.

And he’s content with doing so for all of one minute.

His knee continues to bounce underneath you. With your hands joined together in your lap, his fingers absentmindedly play with your wedding ring. Steering his attention from Jurassic Park, Peter brings a hand to your chin. In the darkness, the television’s light illuminates all of your best features. You’re stunning. He really can't help himself. Peter pulls you in for some modest lip action. Careful not to catch anyone’s attention. The fingers of his opposite hand tease the back of your neck, igniting patterns of goose flesh.

“Aw, you cold?” Peter’s affectionate voice hitches, seemingly innocent.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Peter vanishes and returns in a fwip, draping a thick blanket over the two of you once he returns. Showing gratitude, you peck his cheek with a soft kiss. Cute. Your mischievous husband almost laughs. He adores how naive and sweet you are. Oblivious to his schemes after five years of a marriage, and a decade of familiarity. Peter makes a few adjustments. Playing it off like he’s covering you for warmth.

You sink into him again with a fond smile on your lips.

An adoring smile that instantly falls, lips parting, exhaling a breathless gasp.

Peter trails fiery fingertips along your inner thigh and up your dress skirt. His hooded gaze stays hard locked on the movie, faking interest in Jeff Goldblum’s incoherent mumblings. Blissful buzzes resound faintly against the fabric of your panties. Peter’s grin stretches impishly again when you jolt as a response. Your clit pulses under flush pressure, making you squirm in his lap.

Confession time: your husband’s on a mission to make you as wet as possible, in as little time as possible.

The pads of his warm digits draw lower and push into damp fabric. You’re already soaking yourself silly.

“Feel that? How wet you are? Must’ve really missed me, huh?” Peter breathes silently with his nose in your neck, getting high off your familiar scent. His lips press a chaste kiss to your skin. A husky chuckle blooms in his throat, “Missed you too. Missed this. So fuckin' much.”

His name teeters off your lips in a confused whimper, barely audible. Sneaking your damp panties to the side, Peter’s thick digits breach your lonesome pussy folds. After being deprived of you for so ungodly long, the feel of your wet lust hardens him all at once. His fingers play a little game of tunnel diving, prodding your lush insides. Peter adjusts his position on the sofa by a smidgen. Silent curses tickle your temple. His girth bulges against your ass.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You huff under your breath, frantically scanning the room as he shifts again.

Peter’s digits curl so deliciously deep inside you, whirring like a silent vibrator, making your cunt spill leaky love. His breathy lips loom close to your ear.

“Hmm? Gunna try somethin’ risky. You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you, baby? Don’t want ‘em catchin’ on.” 

“Honey, no-”

“Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Just go with the motions. Trust me. It’ll be so fun. I know you wanna.”

Peter uses speedster precision to pull his flush dick discreetly from his jeans. Poor guy’s so homesick, he’s crying - leaking precum, throbbing as Peter nudges him into your plush heat. It’s an awkward angle at first. But Peter guides you through it with more hushed whispers. The blanket acts as a veil of innocence, draped over your connected bodies. Peter urges your hips to sink lower. You choke on your own mewls as he scarcely ruptures your precious tunnel.

“Tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” He coos through an easy tone, parting his lips against the shell of your ear.

A subtle hitch of his hips does the rest of the work for you. Biting his tongue, Peter curls his brows inward. Your slick walls envelop his length all at once. Smooth, shuddery tightness compresses his cock and sets his nerves ablaze. Your husband peppers your temple in heedless kisses, letting throaty grunts slip in between each one. His pulsing cock keeps your walls pried open. Snug, safe, secure, and buried to the hilt.

Peter doesn’t move, and neither do you. One of his hands digs nails into your hips over your dress, keeping you cemented on his lap. He’s torturing himself, fighting his own relentless impatience in an attempt to stay perfectly still. And it’s taking every microscopic ounce of willpower not to pound you senseless. Peter covers his face with a palm. His dark, lust-blown eyes peer through lazy fingers at the TV.

He’s six inches deep in his wife right now, and not a soul in the room has any clue.

Clearing his throat and acting casual, Peter shifts his hips again. His fat tip prods your cervix with a weepy kiss. Like a promise to stuff you full of something special. He sneaks a careful hand between your legs. His wedding ring settles over your bush, cool to the touch. The rough pads of his fingers vibrate more intensely than before, winding into your twitchy clit. Coaxing you to break. You tremble in his lap, knees flying inward, knocking together hard enough to bruise.

Peter’s eyes roll back in his skull as your sticky walls seize tightly around his snug dick.

“Ah, fuck me.” He groans into your hair.

He can’t stop himself from knocking his hips upward every few minutes. Burrowing his buzzing thickness deeper, Peter splits you open, impaling your poor pussy. His genes imbue his body with primal frustration. Hiking the intensity of your hot bliss, his digits toy with your clit. Your breaths grow more sparse and shallow, as you blink tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Pietro, honey, please-"

He hitches his next breath. Reeling his ass into the couch cushions, Peter makes an abrupt retreat before ramming his cock into your womb. His inky gaze widens tenfold as your pussy swells, squeezing his dick tight enough to lock him in your hot channel forever. His lashes flutter. Going cross eyed, Peter feels his weighty balls tense under denim.

His hand darts up from your hip, clamping over your mouth in a flash. Peter pulls you hard against him, your back flush with his heaving chest as you cum. You’re so fucking lucky the movie transitions into a particularly loud scene. The shrill roar of Jurassic Park dinosaurs plays like a perfectly timed miracle. Concealing your muffled squeals of ecstasy.

The slippery contractions of your orgasm send him into the stratosphere. Your pussy creams hard on your husband’s whirring cock, and his pent-up longing comes crashing in bombastic waves. As covertly as he can, under the thick heat of the blanket; Peter repeatedly thrusts into your lush pussy. Slowly - so as not to catch anyone’s attention. 

It’s both the most hellish, and thrilling sexual experience of his near-middle aged years. He bites his lip so hard he draws blood. Peter’s brows fly up, following an expression of pure vulnerability. Thick, endless pools of white, syrupy heat flood your pussy, gushing in streaks and leaking down his vascular dick.

Peter takes a two second pause to catch his breath, unusually winded from such a scandalously intimate experience. With his nose buried in your hair, his lips pepper your head in soft kisses. Bringing his fist to his mouth, Peter clears his throat again.

“Uhm, g-great party, guys! Love you! We’re gonna bounce. G’night!”

The two of you disappear in a blur, leaving the blanket fluttering in the air.

Back in your shared room, your ever-insatiable husband drills you raw again and again. Spilling thick, sticky load after load - like he’s really trying his damndest to knock you up. You lose track of how many times you reach ecstasy. Peter tells you he’s making up for lost time. By the end of it all, your limp, naked body lies loosely in his arms. Running his fingers through your hair, he catches himself staring at the ceiling with a big, dumb smile on his face.

Saturday morning, Peter channels his inner, teenage self. Recalling his notorious streak of high school ditch-days, much to his mother’s dismay. He decides…ah, screw it. If Chuck needs him, he can just reach out via telepathic communication. Peter bails on his responsibilities to take you out for pancakes. At a family owned diner in some nowhere town, far away from any sinister villains.

You sit across from him at the booth, leaning tiredly over your breakfast. He can tell your body aches just by looking at you. Bones rigid. Legs sore. Hair unkempt. Makeup smeared. 

You’re goddamn beautiful.

[goldfades]

okay but a paige x highschool sweetheart headcannons…….🤫

you’ve known paige since middle school, back when she had braces and that oversized basketball hoodie she wore like a uniform. you weren’t best friends right away, though

she was the loud one, all confidence and easy laughter, and you were… not. but eighth grade science class changed that—she offered you half of her sandwich during a field trip, and suddenly, she was sitting next to you every day

and by the time high school started, paige was already a star

everyone knew her name, not just because she was the point guard who could do things no one else could, but because she had that kind of energy that pulled people in

and yet, her favorite place to be was still with you—sitting on your bedroom floor, eating pizza, and letting you quiz her on geometry proofs. she claimed you were her good luck charm whenever she passed a test

paige didn’t officially ask you out until sophomore year. she said she’d been working up the courage for months—you laughed because, honestly, what did paige bueckers have to be nervous about?

but she was fidgeting with the drawstring of her hoodie, looking at you like she’d miss her next shot if you said no. of course, you didn’t

being with paige meant learning to share her with the world. you went to all her games, cheered louder than anyone else, and learned to love the way she’d scan the crowd for you after every buzzer, that grin of hers lighting up the whole gym when she found you

she’d sneak you into post-game interviews sometimes, just so she could wink at you while pretending to answer a serious question

she loved basketball, sure, but she loved you, too—in a way that made it clear you weren’t just her high school sweetheart

you were her person, the one she wanted next to her, whether she was on the court or sitting on the roof of your car, counting stars

and when senior year rolled around—the stakes felt higher, both on and off the court. she was being courted by every top college program in the country, and you—you were figuring out what life after high school might look like for the two of you

late-night talks turned into plans scrawled in notebooks, filled with possibilities of visits, long-distance calls, and maybe even the same college, if the stars aligned just right

when the acceptance letters came in, it felt like fate. uconn for both of you!

paige couldn’t stop smiling for days, talking about how you’d get to keep cheering her on, just in a bigger arena. but the transition to college wasn’t as seamless as either of you had hoped

paige was the star recruit—the freshman everyone had their eyes on. she was juggling practice, games, media appearances, and the pressure of being "the next big thing"

meanwhile, you were trying to find your footing in a new environment, feeling a little like you were standing in her shadow for the first time

it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but there were nights when it felt like the distance between you wasn’t just physical. you missed the simplicity of high school, the way things felt so easy back then

paige tried—she really did—to balance it all, but sometimes it felt like basketball demanded every piece of her

by sophomore year, the fights started. little things at first—missed plans, forgotten texts. but they added up, like a pressure cooker ready to burst. there was one night, after a particularly tough loss, when everything came out

"i’m trying my best, okay?" she’d said, voice raw. "you think i don’t miss how things used to be? but this… this is my dream. and i don’t know how to do it all."

"and what about us?" you’d shot back, tears in your eyes. "am i supposed to just wait around while basketball gets all of you?"

it was the kind of fight that felt like a turning point—the kind where you either figure it out or fall apart. and somehow, through the tears and the yelling, you found a way to talk. really talk.

paige admitted she’d been scared of losing you, of letting you down. you told her how lonely you’d been, how hard it was to feel like you were coming second to everything else. by the time the sun started to rise, you’d fallen asleep on her dorm room floor, her arms wrapped tightly around you, like she was scared you’d disappear if she let go

things weren’t perfect after that but they were better. you both learned how to make time for each other, even when it felt like there wasn’t any to spare

paige started bringing you to practices sometimes, letting you sit courtside while she worked through drills. you found your own rhythm at school, joining clubs and making friends who reminded you that you were more than just "paige bueckers’ girlfriend."

by the end of sophomore year, you’d both grown in ways you didn’t expect. paige was still the same girl who gave you half her sandwich back in eighth grade, and you were still her good luck charm

but now, you were partners, too—figuring out how to build a life together, one game, one moment at a time

[wadewnstonwilson]

older boyfriend wade wilson headcanons || suggestion by anonymous

pairing: wade wilson (deadpool) x genderneutral!reader

author note: let me know if you guys want me to make this into an actual fic!! also would love to make more headcanons in the future featuring logan or wade so please feel free to drop me an ask!

wade’s protective streak is amplified by the age gap. he knows you’re young and still figuring life out, so he’s hyper-aware of anything or anyone that might cause you stress. whether it’s a professor being unfair or a creep at a party, wade’s ready to swoop in. “do you want me to talk to them? or, y’know, scare the crap out of them? either works.”

wade’s surprisingly good at helping you study—mostly because he makes it fun. he’ll quiz you with ridiculous impressions, draw crude diagrams that somehow make sense, or turn your flashcards into a card game. if you’re struggling with a tough class, he’s your biggest cheerleader, reminding you of how smart you are even when you doubt yourself.

wade can’t stand seeing you stressed about money, especially when you’re juggling work and school. he’ll casually slip extra cash into your wallet or “accidentally” order way too much takeout so you have leftovers for days. if you protest, he brushes it off. “relax, baby, i’m just investing in my future sugar parent.”

wade constantly jokes about the age gap, calling himself a “cradle robber” or making exaggerated comments about how “back in his day,” things were different. it’s all in good fun, though, and he loves how your younger energy keeps him on his toes. “you’re like my very own personal time machine, babe. you make me feel young again. except for my knees—those still hate me.”

despite his humor, wade sometimes wrestles with insecurity about the age difference. he worries he’s too damaged or experienced for you and questions whether he’s holding you back. he doesn’t voice it often, but it’s clear in the way he sometimes pulls away or gets quiet when he sees you thriving in your college world.

wade is your rock during stressful times. when finals season rolls around, he’s there to remind you to take breaks, eat, and sleep. he might even bribe you with snacks or cuddles to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. “you can’t ace that exam if you’re running on fumes, babe. now eat this chimichanga before i cry.”

wade loves whisking you away from the monotony of college life for spontaneous dates. whether it’s midnight runs to a 24-hour diner or an impromptu road trip, he makes sure you’re not missing out on fun just because you’re busy with school.

while wade doesn’t want to overstep, he occasionally drops bits of wisdom from his own life experiences. if you’re struggling with a decision or feeling lost, he’s there to listen and gently nudge you in the right direction. “look , i’ve made enough dumb choices for the both of us. let me save you some trouble, okay?”

wade tries not to let it show, but he sometimes feels a little insecure about your college friends, especially if they’re closer to your age. he won’t stop you from hanging out with them, but he might throw in a sarcastic comment or two. “sure, go hang with your study group. but if any of them so much as *looks* at you funny, i’m calling in reinforcements. and by reinforcements, i mean me.”

wade tries to keep you at arm’s length sometimes, convinced that you deserve someone less complicated, someone who hasn’t been through what he has. but the more he tries to push you away, the more he finds himself drawn back to you. you have a way of breaking down his walls, and it terrifies him—because he wants you, but he also wants to protect you from him.

wade makes an effort to understand your college life, even if it’s wildly different from his world. he’ll attend your events, help with projects, and even try to keep up with your academic lingo (though it usually ends in a joke). “So, gpa stands for ‘great partner award,’ right? because you definitely deserve that.”

wade is constantly hyping you up, especially when you feel overwhelmed or unsure of yourself. “you’re the smartest, most badass person i know, and i know me. you��ve got this, kiddo.”

when you graduate, wade is your loudest, proudest supporter. he makes a huge deal out of it, throwing an over-the-top celebration just for you. “you did it, smarty-pants! now, can we frame your degree and put it in the bathroom? best reading material ever.”

despite his doubts and insecurities, wade’s love for you is clear in everything he does. from the way he kisses your forehead when you’re stressed to the ridiculous lengths he’ll go to make you smile, he’s all in—even if he sometimes worries he doesn’t deserve to be.

[ribbeoms]

「 azure dreams , midnight tales 」

-> featuring, barista!soobin x gn!student!reader

-> w/c ; 1.9k || no warnings

sypnosis : 「 you, an insomniac who finds solace in your late-night conversations with soobin, the barista at a 24-hour cafe. over time, you realizes that soobin’s soft voice and calming presence feel like a dream come true, even during your sleepless nights. but as the midnight talks deepen, so do your feelings, leaving you wondering if this connection is too perfect to last past sunrise. 」

part of the blue-kissed moments masterlist ! pls feel free to check the other fics ^^

[m.list]

a/n : my first soobin fic !! happy birthday my angel

university is the worst.

no, scratch that. being a broke university student is the worse. juggling day-to-day expenses alongside payments of school materials and dorm rent, and the additional stress of the classes and exams? nothing could've prepared you for how grueling the first semester would be. with a sigh, you stumble into a cafe, the bells ringing overhead as your eyes tried to adjust to the warm lights radiated by the decorations lining the homely appearance of the cafe. thank god for 24 hour cafes, you can finally get a (un)healthy dose of caffeine at midnight to fuel your night owl study sessions.

there was only one other person in the small cafe. the barista, head turning up from his phone to glance upon the newcomer into the cafe. he flashed a warm smile as his lithe hands placed his phone down. he turns to greet you, his tussled hair framing his eyes perfectly with a warm, boyfriend look to him.

"welcome to azure dreams cafe. you look awfully tired, what drink can i get you?" the honeyed tone of the barista's voice warms you, it's been so long since anybody has treated you with the bare bones of respect. "sorry for coming in so late.. are americanos available? i just need the energy." you responded, running your hand through your hair as the other clutches your book bag. "it's no problem at all. i understand how you feel, so just take a seat there. feel free to listen to music or take a nap, whatever you need." he hummed, before turning away further into the cafe, where a soft hum of machinery slowly filled the quiet atmosphere.

you caught a glimpse of his nametag ─ choi soobin.

₊˚ʚ

"oh, you're back."

soobin tilted his head, lips pursed as he studies your hunched frame. "sorry, soobin. you keep having to make americanos at midnight for me." you placed your bag down at the cafe lounge chair, easily sliding into the booth. it's been a week of visiting this cafe, a week of talking to the barista, a week of receiving endless amounts of help and feedback on your work. soobin, your eternal saviour, your light at the end of the tunnel, your guardian angel. multiple times has he lent a helping hand to you, allowing you to swiftly complete your work and improving on the essays and projects that you've been pulling all nighters (and your hair) for.

"why're you so willing to help me?" the question slipped out, your eyes boring into soobin's back as he closely monitors the coffee beans. "well," he mused, a small smile playing on his lips. "everyone deserves a little help sometimes. even if they're extremely sleep deprived. i see .. myself in you, i guess." soobin shoved his hands into his apron pockets, leaning against the cover, back still facing you. you leaned your head against the table, mulling over his words. he.. sees himself in you? what does that mean? your thoughts echoed through your head, ricocheting off each other.

"hey, stop thinking about it so much," soobin suddenly appeared, placing your americano before you. he leaned forward, upper body against your table. "i know that university work's tough, but i promise you, you'll always find solace here, alright? i'll be here every night. i know you're worried about many things, but my presence will not be one of them." soobin gently carresses your fingers, before casting you a soft smile. "i promise you."

butterflies erupted in your stomach, as you feel your face grow hotter. "t..thank you.." you managed to stutter out, looking down at your unfinished work, a little flustered from the sudden burst of affection from the midnight barista. you grabbed the coffee cup, before collecting yourself. was that.. was that a confession..?

₊˚ʚ

"y'know, i admire your consistency." soobin suddenly speaks, thus dragging your attention onto him. your eyebrows furrowed, confused. "consistency? like.. my school work? i haven't showed you my results before though.." you mumbled out, brain still trying to catch up on the horrendously low number of hours of sleep you managed to catch that week. soobin giggled, looking at you with a .. weird emotion in his eyes. "no, silly. your consistency in managing to come here every midnight. it's been three weeks, and you've never missed a day." you pursed your lips, before realisation dawned on you ─ has it really been three weeks? you flashed a small embarrassed smile, eyes turning back to your computer.

soobin's memory is immaculate. remembering the exact preferences you had for decoration suggestions you sometimes gave, and memorising the exact timing on how long you loved for the coffee beans to roast. his knowledge is expanse too, almost as if he dabbled in everything before. what soobin is oblivious to, however, is the fact that on your phone, you have a little alarm to wake you up everyday to head to the cafe. so no matter what, you were determined to enter the cafe at twelve midnight. what was the reason behind this? honestly, you're not sure yourself (yet). all you know is that you're dead-set in seeing soobin's smile everyday.

suddenly, a ringtone rang out. "oh, excuse me." soobin got up from the sofa across you, before heading into the back of the cafe to handle the call. "huh? a phone call at 1am? especially from dialing the cafe number?" your fingers twirled with your pen, neck straining as you tried your best to hear the phone call. unfortunately, only bits and pieces of information entered your ears. "close down.... rent......two days."

your heart sank. soobin's lanky figure emerged from the room, face clearly distressed. when his eyes landed on you, he seemed to get even more anxious, fingers twiddling with the hem of his shirt, akin to a child feeling extremly guilty. he opened his mouth as if to say something, before closing it again. you patted the seat next to you, a silent invitation. a reassurance.

"so... the cafe is in a bit of a financial crisis as of right now.." soobin looked down at the table, eyes not daring to meet yours. he continued, " 'cause of lack of customers, and the expenses of the ingredients and rent... the owner said that it would be best to shut this cafe down for good." soobin sighed, broad shoulders sinking into his shirt, making it look too big on soobin. you didn't like that. you didn't like your soobin looking so small and fragile.

"all good things must come to an end one day," you gave a small smile, your palm unfolding over soobin's closed fist. "i don't want our nights to end." a small confession muttered from his lips. "i don't want our nights to end too, soobin. this .. all this means so much to me. so, so much." you looked away, gazing at the twinkling stars in the distance. your hand feels heavy against soobin's, but your heart weighs heavier. the truth is, having these nights end scare you to no end. "but.. we'll figure a way out, right? like we always have." you offered a small semblance of hope, an open question hanging.

empty confessions fill the air. a choked sob escapes soobin. your heart aches as you pull him towards your shoulder, allowing for a place of comfort, no matter how small. a place of solace for him, showing that there was never any doubt for your presence in his life as well. you mirror his sentiments as you pulled him against you tighter, hands rubbing his forearm as he cries into your shoulder.

a warm tear glided down your cheek.

₊˚ʚ

you huffed, melachonly settling uncomfortably into your stomach. the bells above your head chimed one last time, as you enter the cafe. your sneakers step onto the furnished hardwood, as the warm lights embrace you. there, behind the counter, soobin stood. just like that night three weeks ago, he was there. always, with a cup of americano ready. "i never took you to the rooftop before, right?" you shook your head, your curiosity piqued at the mention of the roof. was it even allowed? soobin snapped you out of your thoughts, waving a hand in front of you.

"you're not scared of heights, are you..?" soobin question, his grasp on your wrist loosening as he led you up the staircase. "a little late for that, no?" you giggled, trailing closely behind soobin. "oh.. true.." he mumbled, blinking a bit. he chuckled, hand reaching for the doorknob towards the roof. "i like to come up here after my shifts. it.. relaxes the mind, y'know? makes it feel like-" "it's all going to be alright." you completed his sentence, your eyes gazing into his own. "yeah.. exactly." he huffed, letting a small laugh out.

once both of you are settled onto the roof, a thick silence envelops the air. you leaned your head onto soobin's shoulder, huddling closer towards him, as if this is your last chance to ever see him. he wrapped his arm around you, head turned up towards the two twinkling stars in the sky. "i never told you this, but.. i used to hate working the midnight shift." soobin starts off, hesistant in continuing. you faced him, urging him to finish his train of thought. "it wasn't a very nice time to work, haha.. i mean, midnight isn't usually the time when people would come into a cafe, so most days were dull." you hummed, leaning further into him.

"until you started visiting." you laughed, "you're only saying that to make me happy." "no no, i'm serious!" soobin frantically waved his hand, heart-shaped lips forming a pout. "i mean it, really. you've.. changed my life in more ways than i expected. i thought you were just going to be a one-time customer, but you kept visiting. kept accompanying me." he barely whispers out the last part, his breath fanning into the cold air. "it's sweet. i look forward to it everyday." a small red tint appears on soobin's ears, as he looks down in embarrassment.

you tightened your grip around his arm, giggling in silence. "i have a confession too. i set an alarm on my phone, reminding me everyday to walk over to your cafe at midnight. that's what explains my consistency, it's because i want to see you. everyday." your voice becomes smaller as you continued. "i guess what i'm saying is that.. i like you." you confessed, burying your face into his arm.

soobin lifted your face, before leaning in, pressing his lips onto yours. you swear you could feel fireworks explode as your heart pumps in such a familiar rhythm that you can't help the nostalgic feeling that settles in your chest. "soo-bin", it pumps, and it keeps on pumping, the blood flowing through your body a reminder of how your love for him flows through you, almost naturally. you closed your eyes, pressing deeper into the kiss.

soobin pulled away, chest heaving. expectant eyes gaze upon you, his hair messed up, much like the day you two met. "i guess midnights will always belong to us." he said breathlessly.

"always."

₊˚ʚ

"you'll really be working here, right?" soobin asked for what seemed like the sixtieth time today. "yes, binnie. as long as you’re here." he hummed in sastifaction at your reply, cuddling further into your chest.

“wait, angel.” you softly nudged him away, smoothening your clothes over as you put on your customary smile. “welcome to azure dreams, what can i get you?” your fingers hovered over the display, but something else is hovering behind you as well. soobin gazes at you from behind, pouting as you politely handle the customer. turns out, the only reason why azure dreams “fell out of business” is because soobin, your dearest, cutest boyfriend forgot to flip the “open/close” sign every time he opened the cafe. the only reason why you managed to meet him two months ago was because you were too tired to even notice the sign..

“i didn’t know you were so good at handling other people but suddenly able to push your boyfriend away. it’s like you don’t care about me at all.. am i not the one who secured you a good schedule and a job? you just threw me to one side like i mean nothing. and to think you confessed to sweetly on that very rooftop! so this is how younger people treat their elders nowadays-” soobin keeps on talking in the back of the kitchen, lips moving at a speed you can’t even read. you lunged forward, catching his lips in a kiss. a deep blush rose to soobin’s face, eyes widening as his hands flutter about as he can’t even seem to find a proper place to put it. on the counter or on your waist?! what if his colleagues walk in..! before he can even finish contemplating, you pull yourself away from him. “you talk a lot, baby.” you teased, before bouncing away to actually do your job.

soobin touched his lips, eyes trailing your figure as you worked. god, he’s so whipped.

₊˚ʚ 🌌 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ 🌀 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ❄️ ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ 🌫 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ

@studiogyu @daddldee

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Kay Francis (Jewel Robbery, I Loved A Woman, British Agent)— kay francis was an icon of glamor in her time and a top star of the 30s - she was the highest-paid actress at warner bros from 1930 to 1936. she tended to play characters who were charming, sophisticated, and elegantly dressed, and starred in at least one legitimate masterpiece, the sublime 1932 comedy trouble in paradise. her first big role was in the marx brothers movie the cocoanuts in 1929, and she and william powell made seven movies together between 1930 and 1932. even in her sillier movies she always elevates the material with her charm and presence - she never phones it in and there’s a sort of warm, knowing wittiness about her. a really good short promo from a retrospective of her movies that i think really gets her Vibe across

Elisabeth Welch (Song of Freedom, Big Fella, Dead of Night)— Starry-eyed, honey-voiced, magnetic. A Broadway star in the 1920s, she SHOULD have become a torch-singing Hollywood star when talking pictures came in. Instead she was faced with Hollywood racism, so she moved to Europe and juggled British movie roles and a top-class cabaret career. (Heard the classic songs "Stormy Weather" or "Love For Sale" or "As Time Goes By"? She introduced them all.) You need to hear her croon, so here she is co-starring with certified hot vintage man Paul Robeson [video below the cut]

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Kay Francis:

Jewel Robbery clip

"From 1932 through 1936, Francis was the queen of the Warner Bros. lot, and, increasingly, her films were developed as star vehicles. By 1935, Francis was one of the highest-paid actors, earning a yearly salary of $115,000, dwarfing the $18,000 Bette Davis – who would one day occupy Francis's dressing room – made. From 1930 to 1937, Francis appeared on the covers of 38 film magazines, second only to child sensation Shirley Temple's 138." Source: Wikipedia. Kay Francis is like the MOST FAMOUS Actress from the 1930s you've never heard of--and it was her and Norma Shearer who wore and made classic the 1930s tall, slim, bias cut silhouette. She ALSO has a WHOLE PODCAST episode devoted to her life and career in Hollywood--it's fascinating! She is both tough and a total wet cat.

One of the TALLEST Warner Brother stars at 5’9” and known as a “clothes horse” for her glamorous roles wearing the height of 1930s fashion. She fell out of popularity in the 40s, but her 30s work sizzles. The scene with her and Herbert Marshall in Trouble in Paradise where she says she doesn’t care about his reputation (because she’d rather sleep with him?) HAWOOGA

melted my gay heart with her butch look in stolen holiday

"My life? Well, I get up at a quarter to six in the morning if I'm going to wear an evening dress on camera. That sentence sounds a little ga-ga, doesn't it? But never mind, that's my life ... As long as they pay me my salary, they can give me a broom and I'll sweep the stage. I don't give a damn. I want the money ... When I die, I want to be cremated so that no sign of my existence is left on this earth. I can't wait to be forgotten." —From Kay Francis's private diaries, c. 1938

Elisabeth Welch:

[gluion]

han taesan x reader

genre & warnings — smau, exes, angst, fluff, slight crack, an undeniable down-bad-in-the-trenches reader paired with an emotionally constipated taesan who both cannot move on, switching between past and present conversations, pov switching

series masterlist // request to be part of the taglist!

profiles — the three bears

a struggling freelance writer, you find yourself having to sacrifice most of your time to make ends meet. as you juggle your different part-time jobs and articles, you find yourself falling back on your boyfriend, taesan, for the past two years. however, your life takes a turn on the night of your breakup.

after sharing the same classes with myung jaehyun a couple of years back, you two bonded over shedding tears from your ruthless professors. jaehyun thinks you’d get along with his other friends. after introducing you to them, you somehow found yourself inserted in their own friendgroup with every moment spent together.

kim woonhak grew closer to you once you showed interest in his work. his bubbly personality, receptiveness to teasing remarks, and his passion for music brings color to your life. and one thing about woonhak is that he never fails to make you smile.

profiles — the struggling artists

— take note that the contact screenshot will act as an indicator for past conversations y/n had with taesan before they broke up.

a struggling producer, han taesan spends his days navigating the music industry, hoping to offer anything of worth to a musician or label interested. as he continues to figure out his self-worth, you’re always there to remind him of the highs he will achieve. yet, his inner turmoil only leads him to stray away from you.

kim leehan is all too familiar with his friend’s issues with self-esteem. noted as taesan’s closest friend, he supported him as he ventured into the music industry. yet, your arrival made taesan look at himself in a different way—one he always wished for his friend to do so. however, taesan’s old habits die hard.

it’s no surprise that lee riwoo seems to be the only one who understands taesan, specifically the tough exterior and outright denial to indulge in such emotions. however, that only prompts riwoo to help his friend out more. after all, taesan’s sudden change in relationship status might be an indicator of a bigger issue.

park sungho might be the only one who isn’t afraid to call out taesan’s destructive behavior. after all, taesan needs a friend willing to sit him down. when you and taesan broke up, sungho took that as his sign to intervene in hopes to salvage what you two have—only if taesan allows him to.

[chaosology]

somebody else

— spencer reid x reader

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) /fem!reader

genre: angst part ii here | masterlist

content warnings: none? just bad writing, this is my first post :)

summary: heartbroken over maeve’s death, spencer snaps at the reader who happens to be in love with him, causing her to rethink her relationship with the resident genius

At only 24, Y/N had managed to become the youngest surgical intern at her hospital. She skipped grades and spent years of intense study in university completing her degree, all while juggling a psych class on the side. She had only taken it for fun of course, it was an interesting subject but it wasn't as hands on as the the thrills of surgery. Naturally, she had graduated top of her class with "record breaking" high marks, setting a scary new standard for the generations to come.

Half way through her intern year she was approached by FBI representatives, who were combing through the top 1% of potential candites. They assured her that the unit's headquarters were local and that she could come to the hospital three to four days a week, but would assist a team in tracking down and analysing potential criminals (or 'UnSubs" as the man so vehemently stressed). She was cautious at first, but they promised that it would look great on resumes and she could back out at any time. Eventually, she caved and agreed. Her friends and collegues at the hospital all supported her - after all, this was a once in a lifetime oppurtunity.

Before she was introduced to her new team, she was sent letters instructing her of what was expected. She was to complete a certain amount of hours at the gym, complete a fire arms assessment, a physical and a mental competency test. Probably to make sure I'm not a serial killer, she thought, but wouldn't that be ironic? She passed them all with flying colours (as to be expected) and was sent an email inviting her to an introductory dinner with the group. Whether they did this for everyone she didn't know, but she hoped they would welcome her with open arms and notthink less of her because of her age.

Immediatly when she met them she knew they were good people. They were walm and close and all around comforting . The biggest shock of all, however, was the young doctor Spencer Reid. She had never expected someone so close to her age to be working alongside her. She had heard about him from one of her professors in med school, who raved about one of his dissertations from Caltech. She never bothered to read it of course (who really cares about engineering, anyway?) but had always thought about the boy who had managed to capture the attention of her famously cold hearted teacher. She had assumed he would be cold, arrogent and stuck up, but instead her was awkward and clumsy. He told nerdy jokes that made only him laugh and treated her as an equal from the moment they met. From then on, she was consumed.

She eventually fell into a groove while working two jobs, balancing both her lives while simultaneously falling harder and harder for the boy who worked across from her. At first she thought it wasn't mutual, but as time passed she picked up on how he would often stay late to escort her to the bus stop and make sure to text to see if she was home safe. Or when he bought Doctor Who movies and sugary foods when she lost a beloved patient at the hospital. Or when he let her cry in his arms on the jet after a particurly tough case. She had overheard from Penelope that this was particurly unusual for the boy genius, who tended to avoid contact when possible (and if he did hug, there had to be a lot of years of trust and friendship built up mutually). When she pieced it all together, a thrill was sent through her body. Did he really like her back?

She never really had much luck with love. In eighth grade she recieved a rose on valentine's day in her locker from the boy she liked. As it turns out, he got the locker number wrong and intended it for her best friend. There was also her first year of college, where the boy she met on the orientation day insisted on walking her to and from all her classes. She brought him back for family Christmas and then noticed how he gravitated towards her older sister, wanting to hear all about her, leaving Y/N to sit at the table next to cousins she hadn't spoken to in months. It was always like this. A few months ago she thought she could pursue something with an attending at her hospital. He was a neurosurgeon that she clicked instantly with, but then she walked past the on-call room and heard him in an arguement with his girlfriend. Of course he was in a relationship, she had thought. Just her luck.

But of course, they didn't matter now. Spencer could be her everything. She knew it was important for the significant others of agents to understand the demand of their job, whic she did! They understood each other and would look at each other when they though the other wasn't watching. She didn't want to get ahead of herself, but the more time they spent together the more she thought about their future. Maybe he would shyly ask her on a date while they sat through a movie marathon. Myabe he would pick her up from the hospital at the end of her shift and tell her all about his day, his hand resting on her thigh while they sat at the traffic lights. Maybe he would grab her hand while they sat at the table where they first met and get down on one knee, asking her that one important question. Maybe he would tell her about the toxic properties in the paint she flicked it at him as they painted the bedroom the same light purple as his favourite shirt. Maybe, she thought. It had to be coming soon, his not-so-subtle glances were becoming even more obvious.

But then it slipped. It always slipped.

She first noticed his distraction while she told him all about the surgery she performed that day. Usually he would nod animatedly and interrupt to tell her a fact that even she didn't know. But as they stood outside the hospital entry (he offered to carpool every thursday), she couldn't help but wonder why he kept looking over at the payphone across the road. Maybe it was a one off? A tough day in the FBI isn't unheard of afterall, she thought. However, he continued his strange behaviour all the drive home. Uncomfortable silences followed by some unprompted facts about genetecists and their work. When he dropped her off outside her door, he told her he could no longer go through with their Thursday rituals. Something about scheduled phone calls, he said. He didn't make eye contact, either.

After a while, it was just her stealing the glances. She could no longer feel his gaze burning into the back of her head. When she would look at him, he was always smiling down fondly at his copy of 'The Narrative of John Smith'. In fact, he was always smiling. It was that same lovestruck smile she would recognise on herself when she looked in the mirror. A smile that definitley wasn't for her.

It was a windy day when Derek had finally called him out on it. The "Hey pretty boy, who's painted that smile on your face?" ringing out in the almost empty bullpen. She stiffened, looking up from her coffee and notes on the desk while discretely eavesdropping. "It's... It's nobody. Well, not nobody. Her name is Maeve. But don't say anything about it." He had whispered back. She had cracked. Her vision blurring the paper below her as she slowly stood and excused herself to the bathroom. Nobody had noticed her leaving.

She was the other girl. The somebody else.

She had always been a sacraficial person, which explained why she tearily offered herself as hostage instead of the beautiful Maeve Donovan. Like in eighth grade, when she sadly handed the rose back to her best friend. After all, she just wanted her to be happy. Or when she told her boyfriend to “go for it!” with her sister, even when they were still in a relationships. More than anything, she wanted the people around her to be happy. And as a doctor, she had a responsibility to keep those around her alive. So she threw herself in front of Spencer and towards the two women, landing unsteadily as she pleaded and cried. She couldn’t even here what she was saying, all the words a blur among the tears and rush of adrenaline. But what she dreaded most came next. The shrill cry of a bullet, the thud as Spencer fell to his feet in tears. Y/N stood still as time stopped. She looked around the room, feeling her breaths shorten by the second as the room started spinning. And then it all went black.

She had heard from JJ that he was ignoring everyone’s calls, only taking in gift baskets once he was sure the owner had left. In typical Spencer fashion, he was bottling himself and his feelings up. Surely for a man of his intelligence he knew it had to be a bad idea. She cared too much about him to let him suffer alone, and while she knew that facing him would cause her grief, she just had to see him. She knocked slowly on his door, calling out a soft “Spencer... It’s me. Y/N.” There was no answer, so she hesitantly took his spare key from his pocket and clicked open the door.

The apartment was dark, but she could still make out his figure wallowing on the couch. He was sitting upright surrounded by pillows and tissue boxes. There was the faint sound of the tv in the background, though she couldn’t make out what was on. “Spence... hey”, Y/N muttered. Her hand running up along the couch and onto the back of his neck. “Look, I know things are awful. And I can’t offer much, but if you need someone to cry on, to sit in silence with, I’m here. I know how it feels to live someone you love”. Her voice broke over the last few words but he didn’t notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care. “She was amazing, Spence. Just let us help you. We can do whatever you want, just let us in... Please?”

He stayed silent. And as her hand started to move up his back, he snapped.

“Let you in? Let you in so you can do what? Get Maeve killed. You’ve done enough already, Y/N. Leave.” He yelled, standing up with enough force to send her scampering back. He was never the kind of guy to have a temper, and the slightest raise of his voice sent Y/N into a spiral. “It wasn’t the team that got her killed, Y/N. It was you”. The way he spit her name brought tear to her eyes, as if she was disgusting and worthless. “You walked in without backup. You, with no experience in negotiation. It’s like you wanted her dead.”

“Spencer, you know I would nev-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N! Her blood is on your hands, her parents lost a daughter because of you. It should’ve been you.”

“Please, Spence, you don’t mean that. You’ll work yourself up over it later, just please-”

“I do mean it. I wish it was you. Now leave”

“Spence-”

“Enough. Just leave. You’re no longer welcome here. You’re nothing to me.”

She had tried so hard to keep it together, but the venom behind his words was too much for her to take. She sobbed, grabbing her keys and walking towards the door. He had made himself clear.

“And on your way out, leave the keys. I don’t want you coming by again, Y/N.”

She paused, not daring to look back as she dropped them next to his wallet on the chest of drawers. She left without a word, holding it together until she got to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed she let out a loud sob, her hand coming to her mouth in an attempt to stay quiet. She knew he didn’t mean it, that he was overcome by grief and anger that was bottled up for too long and she just happened to be the victim. In a way, maybe it was better it was her so the others didn’t get their feelings hurt. It cut like glass, the way he referred to her as if she was so worthless. It cut deep.

Spencer had lost his love. And she had just lost hers.

She sniffled her way home and collapsed on the couch. She was too sad to cry, too tired to be angry. She almost felt nothing. She slept a dreamless sleep, feeling time pass her by as she later motionless in the dark room. It was peaceful in some ways.

When she awoke the next morning, she made sure to get there early. She marched straight into Hotch’s office and turned in her resignation. He could sense something was wrong but didn’t want to crack her already fragile state. When she was done clearing out her desk, the others had started to arrive. She embraced them all and promised to keep in touch. It had been an eventful few months she had told them, but it was time for her to go back to the hospital where she belonged. After all, it sounded better than “the man I love just shattered my heart into a million pieces by telling me I should have died, and now being around you all makes me physically sick.”

She looked back to her empty desk as the elevator doors shut. Maybe one day she would see Spencer again, when they were both healed, but for now she just had to grieve.

​

Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another. — Thomas Merton

[missmungoe]

I've been through trying times lately, college leaves no time to rest, but coming back to read your fics again is helping me getting through this month. So thank you dearly for all your work; the passion in every fic is palpable, and the care and attention put into every chapter soothes the soul. — from a tired student

Ps.: congrats on your pregnancy!! It no easy work to be caring for a baby, so take good care, and rest a lot!

This one really meant a lot to me. Finishing a fic always takes a lot out of me, and between work and the pregnancy I haven't had the energy to write anything lately, which has left me feeling a bit down. But it helps to hear that someone is coming back to these stories; that even though some of them are long complete, or unfinished, they're not forgotten and gathering dust, and that a fic is worthy of reading even if it's not new, or newly updated. Sometimes I catch myself forgetting just how much I have written over the years, how many words and pages and books worth of stories there are in my archive. So thank you for reminding me that these stories still matter, and the work that's gone into them<3

And I'm so sorry to hear that you've been having a tough time! Juggling classes and deadlines on top of life is no easy feat, and I can only wish you the best of luck with your semester, and that I'm rooting for you<3

[feeling-pushy]

Swapped

Thank you to my anonymous commissioner for the story! I hope I did good on the premise and hope you liked it!

~5k, fpreg, magic, body swap

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through Christie's home, mingling with the soft aroma of vanilla candles. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the modern furnishings. Christie stood in her open-concept kitchen, her black hair tied back in a loose ponytail, as she arranged a platter of assorted pastries. Making sure they looked just right.

She was expecting a visit from her daughter Candice this morning. It wasn’t often that she could come to visit these days, since her college studies and her training in track-and-field often kept her occupied. So, on weekends like these when she could come and visit, Christie tried her best to at least pull out the stops. Buying some of her daughter’s favorite sweets from that bakery she liked, and brewing a fresh cup of coffee.

She was still messing around with the platter when she heard the doorbell ring, signaling Candice’s arrival. With a big smile Christie rushes to open the door and throws it open to find her daughter standing there.

Candice stood there, her athletic frame draped in casual jeans and a snug sweater. Not all too different from Christie’s own casual weekend attire. Her blonde hair framed her face as she gave her mom a small smile "Hey Mom."

"Candice, darling. It's been too long!" Christie exclaimed as she pulls her in for a hug, holding her daughter tightly. As Christie hugged her daughter though, she noticed some stiffness in Candice's posture, with a slight tension in her shoulders, but chalked it up to the stress of school and the long drive it takes to get here.

Christie pulled back after a minute and smiled at Candice, “Come in darling! Come in!" Candice’s smile got a bit bigger as she rolled her eyes a little, “Geez, you act as if I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Well it certainly feels like years when it comes to my precious baby girl.” Christie states matter of factually, which earns her a little laugh from Candice.

They soon settled on Christie’s plush couch, both with steaming mugs of hot coffee and the tray of assorted sweets. As they settle in, Christie smiled at her daughter, “so how has school been?” she asked as she took a sip of her coffee, Candice let out a tired sigh, “College has been a whirlwind. It only finally feels like I’m getting the hang of juggling classes and assignments, but it's still a lot."

"I remember those days. It’s a lot to do. But other than that, you’re doing good, right? Eating good?" Christie’s question was met with some slight hesitation, as Candice took a bite from one of the pastries, "Yeah, I think so… It’s challenging, but I’m learning a lot. My professors are tough, but fair. And track-and-field has been good, met a lot of cool teammates and, uh, well…’ she seems to trail off before looking at Christie again, ‘Erm, well it’s been good. How’s work been treating you by the way?"           

Christie’s brows furrowed a bit at that, but she still smiled softly, "Oh, the usual office madness. You know how it is, endless meetings that could’ve been emails, and trying to make sure everyone is on the same page and that the managers under me are not overstepping their bounds. But there was this one thing the other day."

"Oh yeah?"

"Ok so, we had some new people join us for a big IT project, and in order to sort of break the ice I thought it would be a great idea to do some fun team building exercises. But apparently, someone decided that trust falls should be a part of it. I didn’t clear this idea, no one told me. So, people were just randomly walking around, and someone would shout ‘Trust fall!’ and fall backwards. Chaos, I tell you. Absolute chaos." Candice laughed, "No way!"

"I think we all lost a few years of life from the stress of it. But hey, at least it gave us something to bond over, so in the end, I’d call it successful."

"Sounds like you’re having a wild time.” Candice joked. Christie smirked a little, "Wild is certainly the word for it. But honestly, I can’t complain. I’ve got some good staff that I can trust, and even with the craziness, I manage to make sure people have some fun."

"I don’t doubt it.” Candice cheekily said with a grin, but then her smile faded a bit as she seemed to think on something, her fiddling with her untouched cup of coffee. Christie noticed this and her brow furrowed again as she looked at her, “Is something wrong darling? You seem to have had something on your mind since you’ve gotten here.” Candice hesitated, but eventually nodded, “Yeah I… Well there was a reason why I wanted to come down to see you this weekend.”

“Oh? Did something happen at school?”

“Kind of…”

“Well whatever it is, you can tell me candy cane” Christie said softly as she placed a hand on her knee. Candice gave her a weak smile, before taking a deep breath, "Mom, I... I'm pregnant." The words hung in the air, thick and heavy. Christie's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly composed herself.

"How far along?" she asked softly. "About eight weeks. But I only found out on Monday." Candice whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. "It was a one-time thing, w-with a teammate. I wasn't looking for anything serious, but…" she then trailed off, as her face began to crumple. Christie reached out, squeezing Candice's hand, "It's okay, honey." At this, Candice broke down a little as she started to cry. Christie was quick to pull her daughter into a hug. She gently patted her hair and kissed her head in an attempt to comfort her.

Candice tucked her arms close to her chest and let her mom do all the holding as she let herself be vulnerable, feeling the softness of her sweater and hearing the muffled sound of her heartbeat underneath the intensity of her sobs. It always felt nice to be held by her mother, especially during the hard times of her life. She trusted her mother absolutely, but was still relieved that she hadn’t gotten angry with her over her making such a dumb mistake.

It took her a minute, but Candice eventually choked out "I don't know what to do. I-I don't want to end the life growing inside me, but keeping the baby, that would mean I’ll have to stop doing track-and-field, a-and give up my scholarship, my dreams. I-I’m not ready to become a mom." Christie hushed her softly as her pet her head, “It’s alright darling, I can help you. You don’t have to drop out. You got options, ok?”

“O-Ok…” Candice mumbles, Christie began rubbing her back soothingly, "You don't have to make any decisions right now. Whatever you choose, I'll support you, no matter what my candy cane."

Candice let out a little hiccup of a laugh, “Thanks mom… If I had your life, your resources, this wouldn't be a problem. You have everything all figured out." Christie chuckled softly. "Trust me, darling, even I don't have everything figured out. We all have problems, but that’s why we have got to support one another, it’s hard to do things all on our own." Christie reassured.

Candice sighed a little, but nodded, "I know…’ Candice let herself be hugged for a moment longer, before pulling away slightly to look her mother in the eyes, ‘But sometimes I wish I could just swap lives with you." She said with a small, sad smile. As she said that, Christie's eyes seemed to light up, as she was struck with an idea. She then smiled at her daughter a bit mischievously, “Hey, you wanna see something interesting?” Candice raised a brow but nodded.

Getting up, Christie led Candice to her study. Her office was modest and simple, with an oak desk and paperwork thrown about. It was also a room Candice knew well as she had visited it all the time when she was younger. Whether that had been coloring her pictures with colored pencils on the floor when she was ten. Or lounging around on the couch, texting friends when she was sixteen. It had been the sort of company Christie had sorely missed ever since Candice left for college.

But truly, the most notable feature in this room were her many shelves and cabinets that were lined up alongside one of the four walls. It was an area filled with ancient tomes, peculiar artifacts, and trinkets from around the world.

For a  long time Christie had made a hobby out of collecting ancient artifacts, magic charms and other so-called spells. None of them ever worked, in Christie’s experience, but they were pretty and they all held interesting history, which that itself was worth collecting them in her mind. Plus she knew, it would only be a matter of time until she had found the real deal. And she had indeed found the real deal.

As they walked into the office Christie approached her glass display case, which housed some of her more delicate items, this including one of her newest trinkets, a glass orb. It was perfectly spherical, almost unnaturally so, like it had been painstakingly crafted by someone with an obsession for flawless geometry. Inside, it emanated a soft violet glow that swirled lazily inside. The energy seemed to pulse faintly, but it was likely just some of the windows light reflecting off a purple gem in the middle.

Reaching into her desk, Christie pulled out a small key before she approached the case, unlocking it and opening the little glass door. She then grabbed the orb and held it in her hands, Candice raised a brow, "What is that?"

"It's a magical orb I bought recently, I got it from a friend who is a fellow collector. My friend told me it has the power to swap people's bodies." The orb was cool to the touch and perfectly smooth in Christie’s hands, it was also a lot lighter than expected, as if it were made of air. The purple light continued its dim, pulsating glowing, with an almost hypnotic shifting and swirling of color that might have seemed almost purposeful, if such a thing was possible.

Candice, unconvinced, crossed her arms and gave her mother a doubtful look, "You're joking, right?" Candice had never been as much of a believer in magic as her mother. And while Christie always assured her that she kept the collection as a fun hobby, which in many ways it was, something always told Candice that there was more too it for her mother than that.

Christie, seeing the look on her daughter’s face gave her a small pout, “I know what you’re thinking, and while I will be the first to admit that some of these things are fake, I swear to you this one is genuinely magical."

Candice stared at the orb, "And how can you be sure of that?”

“I can’t rightfully say darling, I haven’t tried it.”

“And yet you say that it can actually swap our bodies?"

"Well not exactly.’ Christie replied, ‘Our bodies would remain the same, but our minds would swap places. So you mind would be in my body and vice versa. And it wouldn’t be permanent, we could switch back at any time."

“So kinda like Freaky Friday?”

“Darling I don’t remember which movie your referring too.”

Candice waved her off as if to dismiss the subject. But now, her mind raced a little, the idea seemed ludicrous, but the allure of escaping her predicament, even if just temporarily, was tempting. She looked at the orb for a moment before looking back at her mother, "How would it work?" she asked cautiously. "Well, I never personally tested it. But from what my friend told me, we would both have to hold it at the same time. Then focus on each other and the lives we live, to initiate the exchange, after which the orb would activate and it would take care of the rest."

Candice eyed the magical orb again, watching it as it’s somewhat ethereal glowing seemed to draw her in a little. And though she still thought the idea of magic was ridiculous, she was starting to find the prospect more and more appealing.

Christie, seeming to sense this, went and put the orb back down in its case for a second, closing it up before she went over to put both hands on Candice’s shoulders, “I know this seems like the best choice, and I wouldn’t have brought up the orb if I didn’t think this could be a solution, but I do want to stress that this isn’t the only solution. If you don’t want to swap bodies, that’s fine, I don’t want you to think this is your only choice. We can always do surrogacy, or if you don’t want to do that and carry the baby by yourself, you can always take a year off school or go to school and I can always support you with your schooling until the baby comes. Afterwards you can reapply for your scholarships.”

“I know that…”

Christie smiled, “I know that you do. How about we both think on it ok? Let’s just spend the day together and we can talk about this again the next morning.” Candice nodded as she gave her mother a thin smile.

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

Candice walked alongside her mom through the bustling downtown area, the fresh air and sunshine feeling pleasantly warm. As they passed coffee shops, the scent of fresh coffee and baked goods lingered in the air, and the shop windows were filled with cute autumn clothes, clothes that would be needed in the coming months when it started to get colder. All these things were nice, but Candice found her thoughts where elsewhere. Mostly on the offer her mom had made, and on the orb that sat in Christie’s home office.

She was so lost in thought, she could hardly pay attention to her mother as she was talking, laughter spilling from her lips as she recounted some lighthearted story from work. But the words washed over Candice without sinking in, and all Candice could do was smile and nod along as if she were paying attention, when in reality the weight of the decision she faced pressed heavily on her mind.

When they stopped for lunch they picked a cozy little Italian place downtown. When the door swung open, the warmth of the atmosphere enveloped them as they stepped inside. The comforting aroma of bread and tomato filled the space, and they found a booth in the corner. Candice slid into her seat, her gaze drifting to the window as she tried to focus on the present moment as she ordered her meal, but the thought of the orb kept pulling her back into herself.

The soft clinking of cutlery filled the quiet of the booth as Candice and Christie shared their meal. The dim, warm light from the restaurant bathed the room in a golden glow, creating a cozy atmosphere. Christie watched her daughter across the table, her expression thoughtful as she absently twirled her fork through the pasta on her plate.

If Candice used the orb, if she and her mom swapped minds, all of her problems could disappear, well at least for her. The unwanted pregnancy, the fear, the uncertainty about her future, it would all become her mom’s burden. Candice could just... escape, step into her mom’s life, and leave everything behind.

The idea was so tempting, almost too good to be true. She imagined what it would be like to see the world through her mom’s eyes, to have her confidence and ease, to be free from the overwhelming responsibility of carrying a child she hadn’t asked for. But as appealing as that sounded, doubts gnawed at her.

Swapping minds would mean that her mom would now have to take on everything she dealt with daily. Her classes, her stresses, her life. Could she really handle that? And a baby on top of it all? And could she live with herself knowing she’d handed off her problems to the one person she cared about most?

As they made their way back from their trip downtown, Candice walked beside her mother, her expression distant and her mind still clearly elsewhere. Christie wanted to reach out, to say something comforting, but she could sense Candice needed the space to process everything. So, she maintained the lighthearted conversation they had been having, doing her best to keep things cheerful, even as both of their thoughts turned to the offer of the body-swapping orb that loomed over them.

Later that evening as the two of them had dinner and with Candice quietly picking at her vegetables, Christie soon found herself lost in thought as well, as she began to think about the orb. All Christie wanted was for Candice to be happy, to be free of this weight pressing down on her. She knew, more than anyone else, that her daughter was taking this decision seriously, understanding all that it would mean.

She had raised Candice to be responsible, and to always think things threw before committing to something. So she knew that whatever choice she made, it was one made with care. Still Christie’s heart couldn’t help but ache for her daughter, and for the burden Candice carried in making such a big decision, not just for herself, but for her baby. One that she, no doubt, didn’t feel ready for. One that she didn’t really want.

But as much as Christie focused on Candice’s well-being, a part of her couldn’t help but think about what it would mean for herself. The idea of swapping minds, of carrying the baby instead of her daughter, stirred something deep inside her. Christie had always dreamed of being pregnant, of feeling a life growing inside her. It was a dream that had never come true. One that she had quietly let go of when it became clear it wasn’t going to happen.

And while adopting Candice had filled her life with joy and love, that small, lingering ache had never fully disappeared. Now, the possibility of finally experiencing pregnancy filled Christie with a tiny spark of excitement that flared at the thought of carrying the baby herself, of nurturing and protecting that life.

But it wasn’t that simple. As much as the idea thrilled her, Christie knew this wasn’t just about fulfilling an old wish. It was about what was best for Candice. Swapping minds meant taking on her daughter’s struggles, her fears, her pain. It meant stepping into a life that Candice hadn’t planned for, and it meant Candice would take on her own responsibilities, her own challenges.

Christie watched Candice push her food around her plate, her expression distant, and felt a rush of protectiveness. She wanted to shield her daughter from all the hurt and confusion she was feeling, to take it all away. But she knew that Candice needed to make this decision on her own, that she needed to think it through and understand the gravity of what they were considering.

Dinner continued quietly, the unspoken thoughts between them filling the room with a thick sense of fear, and longing. Christie took a deep breath, pushing her own feelings aside for now. Her focus had to be on Candice, on making sure that whatever happened next, they would face it together, as mother and daughter. Because, in the end, that’s all Christie really wanted.

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

The next morning, the house was filled with the smell of fresh coffee and toast as Candice and Christie sat at the breakfast table. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Candice was quiet, her gaze fixed on her plate, her mind far away. Finally, Candice broke the silence as she looked up, her expression steady but serious. “I’ve made my decision.’ Candice said, her voice firm, ‘I want to do the body swap with you.”

Christie felt her heart skip a beat. She had known this was a possibility, but hearing it out loud made it real in a way that hit her unexpectedly. She set her mug down, her hands suddenly feeling unsteady. “Are you sure about this Candice darling?” Christie asked, searching her daughter’s eyes for any hint of doubt.

Candice nodded, her eyes resolute. “I am Mom. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I know this is what I want to do. I need this.” Christie studied Candice for a moment longer, then gave a small nod. “Okay. If you’re sure, then let’s do it.”

A little later, they stood in Christie’s office, the door closed behind them and curtains drawn, shutting out the rest of the world. The orb sat on the desk between them, its violet glow pulsating gently still, despite the lack of light source, casting eerie shadows that flickered across the walls. Candice and Christie both reached out at the same time, their hands gripping the orb firmly. The glass was cool against their skin, and as they held it, the violet light seemed to intensify, growing brighter and more vibrant. The energy inside seemed to swirl now as well, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

Christie took a deep breath, her voice calm but firm. “Close your eyes, Candice. Focus on me. Focus on my life, my thoughts, my feelings.”

Candice nodded, closing her eyes and letting out a slow breath. She concentrated on her mom, imagining what it would be like to be her, to see the world through her eyes, to feel her emotions and thoughts. The orb began to hum softly, a faint vibration that she could feel through her fingertips, traveling up her arms.

Suddenly, a wave of warmth spread through Candice’s body, starting from where her hands gripped the orb and radiating outward. It was a strange, tingling sensation, like static electricity prickling over her skin. The hum grew louder, filling her ears, and she felt a pull, as if something deep inside her was being gently tugged away.

The world around her blurred, and for a brief moment, everything went dark. She felt weightless, as if she were floating in a vast, empty space, disconnected from everything. Her senses seemed to blur together, her thoughts mingling with feelings that weren’t her own, a strange mix of emotions and memories swirling around her.

Then, in an instant, everything snapped back into focus. She felt a sudden jolt, like being pulled back into herself, but everything was... different. Candice blinked her eyes open, feeling a strange mix of emotions wash over her, a swirl of confusion, excitement, and a lingering sense of awe. She looked down at her hands and saw her mom’s hands instead. Her heart raced as the reality of what they’d done hit her. She was in her mom’s body now.

Across from her, she heard herself gasp, and she looked over to see her mother, now in her body, as her eyes widened and she adjusted to her new form. The room around them seemed to shimmer, as if the very air were charged with the magic that had just occurred. Christie looked down at herself, her face a mirror of Candice’s awe and disbelief.

Christie’s new body felt unfamiliar to her as well in this moment, her limbs heavier, her balance slightly off. She was no longer curvy, now more slight and built. She was also a head shorter than she used to be.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, both of them grappling with the enormity of what had just happened. The orb’s glow slowly faded, leaving the room in a hushed, almost reverent silence. They had done it. They had truly swapped bodies.

"It worked," Candice murmured, her voice richer, more resonant. Christie touched her face, feeling the smoothness of her now more youthful skin, "It did. It really did."

As the afternoon turned into evening, Candice and Christie settled back into the living room, the sun dipping low in the sky and casting a soft, golden hue across the room. They had spent the last few hours acquainting themselves with their new realities.

Christie, now in Candice’s body, had guided her daughter through the intricacies of her role as a CEO. The meetings she’d need to attend, the decisions she’d be making, the pressure of running a company. Candice, adjusting to her new role in her mother's body, had also filled Christie in on her college schedule, the classes, and her commitments to the athletics team.

But soon a quiet settled between them. Candice, holding a cup of coffee with her mom’s hands, took a sip, savoring the taste. She felt an odd mix of emotions. She felt relief, a bit of anxiety, but also a strange sense of freedom. The heaviness she had been carrying around for the last week seemed to have lifted, leaving her feeling lighter than before.

Christie looked at her daughter, now in her body, and smiled softly. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice warm and gentle. Candice took another sip of coffee, thinking for a moment before answering. “Honestly, I feel... oddly empowered. Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.” She looked down at her hands, her mother’s hands, and flexed her fingers, marveling at the strength she felt in them. “It’s strange, but... I kind of like it.”

Christie nodded, giving her a soft smile, she could see the relief in Candice’s eyes, the newfound confidence that seemed to be settling into her. Christie had hoped that this swap would give her daughter a chance to breathe, to escape the overwhelming situation she had been facing, and it seemed to be working. “And you?” Candice asked, her gaze shifting to Christie. “How are you feeling?”

Christie smiled, a flicker of excitement in her eyes as she placed a hand gently on her still flat belly, already trying to picture what it might be like to feel the child moving within. It was a feeling she had never thought she would experience, and despite the uncertainty and challenges ahead, she couldn’t help but grin wide, “I’m excited.’ she admitted, ‘Excited for the change in perspective, for this new chapter. To see what the future holds, not just for me, but for both of us.”

She kept her hand on her belly, already feeling a connection she hadn’t expected to form so quickly. The baby, now growing inside her, and the new beginning it represented for her. Candice watched as her mom smiled softly, as her hand continued to rest protectively on her belly.

She felt a rush of emotions, it still felt strange to see herself from an outside perspective, yet she was also filled with gratitude and admiration. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy, for either of them, but seeing the peace and excitement in Christie’s eyes made her feel like maybe, just maybe, they had made the right choice.

"Mom," Candice began, "thank you. For everything." Christie reached out, squeezing her hand. "Anything for you, Candice."

Over the next few weeks, Candice and Christie adapted to their new lives, getting used to the ups and downs of their swapped realities. Candice, now in Christie’s role, was pleasantly surprised with how quickly she found her footing as the CEO. She attended board meetings with confidence, her sharp mind and innovative ideas impressing even the most skeptical clients.

She found she relished the challenge of planning meetings, in making negotiations, as well as making those decisions that shaped the company’s future. There was a thrill in the power and responsibility, a sense of control she hadn’t felt in her own life for a long time. And in the midst of her busy days, she occasionally indulged in simple pleasures, like stopping by her favorite burger joint, drinking coffee and indulging in the occasional glass of wine. Enjoying the freedom of choice that came with being in her mother’s shoes.

Meanwhile, Christie fully embraced Candice’s life, attending classes, engaging with the material and gaining new perspective. She found herself invigorated by the academic environment, and how it was a lot different than the seemingly endless repeating of days at the office. She of course had to drop the track and field, since she was with child now. But that opened her up to trying out clubs that Christie herself never got to experience during her own college days.

Participating in clubs rekindled an old passion for the creative arts that she had long forgotten, and she marveled at the freedom she now had to express herself. And while she did occasionally miss the sophistication and refined pace of her old life, craving the comfort of her former routines. She found herself happy she had the opportunity to reinvent herself a little bit.

Not to mention the joy she experienced as she felt the subtle changes in her body, as week by week the baby slowly grew. Her hands were always touching her belly as she eagerly awaited the eventual swell she would gain, of eventually feeling the baby kick. She looked forward to experiencing it all and finally fulfilling her long forgotten dream.

And threw all of this Candice and Christie actually stayed more closely connected. Whereas before Candice was usually too busy with schoolwork to call, with phone calls spanning weeks in between, now the two communicated almost daily to update each other on their day-to-day activities as well as to check in on each other’s mental and emotional health.

This experience had done more than just provide Candice with a way out of a difficult situation. But it had strengthened their bond, deepening their understanding of not only each other, not just in terms of their new roles, but in how they viewed themselves and each other, reshaping their relationship for the better.

[shrinkthisviolet]

Who do you think Tory's non-Cobra Kai support system should have been? Her mom is too sick to help and is basically a non-character.

Honestly, it's gotta be Amanda and Daniel, and I'll explain why. Part of Tory's need for a non-CK support system is because her mom can't help—Tory's a 16/17-year-old breadwinner for her mom and younger brother, and juggling classes and multiple jobs (at least 2, but I think it used to be 3? Or maybe it's 1 but used to be 2, I can't quite remember).

Amanda could be persuaded to help with a better middleman. If Robby had pled her case to Amanda, that could've worked (Robby holds no bitterness towards Amanda, it seems, and Amanda doesn't seem to have any problems with him either). Or, they could've had Sam and Tory slowly reconciling over the course of s4 and Sam pleads her case to Amanda. Either of those would've made more sense than Amanda somehow believing Kreese about Tory and deciding to help her solely based on that, while also ignoring Sam's trauma (which is why that second idea sounds especially appealing to me—Sam pleading Tory's case to Amanda, after they're reconciled (or on the path to doing so) means that Amanda helping Tory wouldn't be discounting Sam's feelings). Alternatively, it could've been Daniel...though Sam would be a better middleman than Robby in that situation, given...everything.

Chozen would be an interesting one too—he's been in a situation like Tory's before, so he'd be the best equipped to give her the tough love she needs without pushing too hard. The only thing is that he can't really provide the other kinds of support—financial and whatnot—that really has to be an Encino parent, and Daniel and Amanda are the only ones who really fit that bill that we see.

(Sure, there are other Encino families, but we don't really see or hear about them enough for me to say whether they'd be good fits)

[itstopplingdomino]

WIP Tag

Thank you for the tag @myst867! Juggling between university classes, personal life and an alter ego in the internet is a tough thing, and I'm sure most agree TT I will be listing them in order of priority too!)

List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)

An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing

Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!

Then tag 10 writer friends

Titles

Untitled (coming soon) - I made a promise to write a short fiction based on how I feel after taking my test. Reader thought of Andrew Larson as a person who keeps himself; probably arrogant about his intelligence too. But in a make-up test session, reader learnt that he's actually the complete opposite.

Burning Desire - Supposed to be one chapter one-shot in celebration of Valentine's day, but I am working on the second (final) chapter. Garreth Weasley realises he has romantical feelings for reader just as Valentine's day is nearing.

Paper Bird - A potion product mishap causes reader to replace negative words into its kinder version. First part is posted, but I gotta finish up the second part.

Falling (you say i'm wise beyond my years) - Based on Isabela LaRosa's Older. Aesop Sharp has many secrets - and you are one of them. It's not explicit but it does have mature themes.

Tolerance - Just an intrepretation on how certain Harry Potter characters would react when they find out you're hurt (and doesn't seem like it from the outside). Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 and onwards are on the way!

Mainly Hogwarts Legacy universe and all is x reader pairing, all except 4 is minor-friendly (just be warned of mild cursings). It just so happens that these two weeks are packed with tests and assignments, so I'd be active to lurk but too exhausted to write. I gotta get back on writing as soon as the urgent big stuff in life is dealt with.

Upcoming Scenes, Events, Details

Untitled (coming soon) - We're at a point where reader's perception of Andrew will be changed. I think I would be done and ready to post this by this week (most likely the weekend).

Burning Desire - As soon as Garreth realises he has feelings for reader, he decides to act on his feelings but here comes the light angst. Let's just say, I love misunderstanding trope <3.

Paper Bird - Fred Weasley's redemption arc, basically. He will do everything to make ammends.

Falling (you say i'm wise beyond my years) - Upcoming chapter will be all about hurt/comfort, supportive figure, and generally fluff. Considering the first two chapters were playing on pining on reader's side and growing sexual tension (is reader imagining it..?), I want to write something a little more in-depth and platonic.

Tolerance - I've got to be honest; I am actually stuck on this. It's Ron's reaction and I couldn't decide which reaction would suit him best.

Please forgive me for tagging you TT Genuinely interested in your current progress of your works!! @applinsandoranges, @cuffmeinblack, @ravenelyx, @imtheslayeraskmehow97, @arthenaa.

One thing I realised from doing this tag game is that I need to have a masterlist. When will I get around doing that? We shall see. I gotta figure out Tumblr better first XD

[skrunksthatwunk]

HI IT'S SQUISHY fic ask game time:

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

:3

YAHOO HI SQUISHY TY FOR THE ASK >:33

ok uhhhh uh uh

F: i think if i had to choose anything, it'd probably be the cat petting circle scene from and who do you think i'll be (without you)?, because i am. really really bad at juggling more than like 3 characters in a scene and this has FIVE and it's still really fun to read, at least for me. it's dynamic, though admittedly the attention still mostly falls on kuwabara and yusuke (sorry keiko </3 i wish you were more prominent in this one but alas) everyone carries some weight. i'm also not great at understanding (and thus writing) anger, so yusuke's bubbling frustration through the scene is like.. kinda cool to me. (a/n: eikichi is kuwabara's cat lol)

i'm also including another two from this same fic bc i think they're neat as well :)

(i'll put a transcript of the screenshots at the end under the read more)

honestly, i love writing yusuke's dialogue no matter what he's saying, so this fic's got a few moments i'm very fond of, but didn't include. anyway it's the only good thing i've ever written (<- exaggerating, but it's probably my favorite fic i've written, and maybe favorite prose piece)

i also remember enjoying some of the dialogue between sagawa and majima in tough love for loveless things, and i assume i liked a lot of the stuff for i long for you and your expert hands, but i... haven't revisited that one in a long time (idk why but i'm a little afraid to?? i haven't forgotten it though), so i couldn't point to anything specific really ^ ^'

I: hm... i think i overindulge in characters just talking about nothing, at least when it comes to my writing. if i like them, i like hearing them talk about nothing, and it tends to bloat scenes and drag on, i figure. i also tend to gravitate towards really specific intensely described points of imagery that barely come up again and totally break the flow of the scene (oops). in terms of guilty pleasures in reading, uh...? i'm kind of a sucker for werewolf stuff because i got that dog in me. im drawing a blank ig sorry <3 OH i've always been hopelessly fond of whump / hurt/comfort / sickfic STUFF. legit since i was a child. i like it when they're out of it i like it when they're woozy. and anything with dumb hijinks and/or slapstick is good to me. comedy's hard and i like seeing idiots be idiots. and really introspective/inner monologue heavy pieces are mmmmwah for writing and reading

R: oh man. whatever i'm currently reading often ends up influencing my writing in noticeable (to me) ways. one time i was writing smth for my fiction writing class and i typed out a sentence that felt at once like smth dr seuss would write (you'll never guess what unit my children's lit class was on) and a line from lolita (because that's what i was reading at the time). it's a mashup that worked weirdly well. ANYWAY to actually answer the question, the little prince ruined me as a kid, and a lot of the way i express sadness and emptiness is channeling saint-exupery there. currently, arkady martine and andzrej sapkowski have been influencing my scenery descriptions in particular, because that's what i was most recently reading, but earlier this year i remember cormac mccarthy's the road finding its way under my pen a lot. for really flowery stuff (i don't think you see it much in my fics, but it's not Never), i think of alfred tennyson's maud quite often. this is not a conclusive list im just empty brained :P

X: ohhohohohohhh. god help me but i love making all of them suffer. to love something is to vivi/dissect it. currently kuwabara is the one i'm putting through the most though (<- channeling personal issues into this orange guy), but majima and kiryu were always lots of fun to break down >:). perhaps that's the real answer to the guilty pleasure section

[SCREENSHOT 1]:

“Hey, why’s she goin’ to Kurama and you and not me?” Yusuke complained, pouting at Keiko.

Kuwabara piped up. “Maybe it’s ‘cuz they have manners, unlike some of us.”

“Or patience,” Botan offered.

Yusuke stuck out his leg and prodded Kuwabara’s arm. “Yeah, and how’re your manners workin’ out for ya? You still look like someone’s been playin’ tic-tac-toe on your hands or did she become a saint overnight?”

“Shut up, Urameshi.”

Keiko spoke up from her spot on the floor. “Aw, I think she’s just sweet. Right?” She put her chin on her folded arms and gently rubbed at Eikichi’s cheek. With a warm smile, Keiko turned her head into her arms further, squishing her face, openly endeared. “Even if she bites sometimes.”

“Finally, someone gets it,” Kuwabara moaned. “Keiko, tell Urameshi that for me, will ya?”

Yusuke didn’t buy it. “If she was sweet she’d be sweet to me, too.”

“Benevolence is nearly always conditional,” Kurama said, leaning over to rub Eikichi’s ears. “Perhaps she senses your standoffishness and simply chooses not to engage with someone who does not seem to want her.” Kurama’s brilliant green eyes swept back to Yusuke for emphasis. “You two may have that in common.”

“Wh—?!” Yusuke spluttered a bit, before settling on, “Watch it, fox boy.”

“Aw,” Botan giggled, “Yusuke, it’s alright, you know. Some of us just have an animal-like charm. Meow meow!” She hooked her hands like paws.

“Right, and I’m saying Eikichi’s not so charming. I mean, she’s been ignoring you, too, Botan, whaddyou think?”

“Oh, she’s just lovely! Simply adorable,” Botan cooed.

“Heheh, looks like you’re outnumbered, Urameshi!”

[SCREENSHOT 2]:

Rocking his chair back lazily, Yusuke noticed Kuwabara’s scratch-laced hands and whistled. “Damn, Kuwabara. It’s kinda beating you up, huh? That cat o’ yours. You look like you just fought me, only smaller.”

“For the last time, Urameshi, Eikichi’s a she! Quit it with the it crap or I’ll knock you into next Sunday brunch.” He jabbed his chopsticks at Yusuke pointedly. “And I don’t think you could get any smaller.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. She’s beating the shit outta you. But what’s with that? I thought kittens were s’posed to be all cute n’ cuddly.” Yusuke swirled his drink thoughtfully before taking a swig.

“You’ve never had a kitten, have you, Urameshi?” Kuwabara deadpanned. He had the right to do that now that he was a cat-rearing expert, as if he hadn't learned it very recently himself.

“No. ’M not really crazy about animals. Neither's my mom.” Under his breath, Yusuke added, “Knowing her, that’s probably for the best.”

“Wh—? How?!” 

Yusuke shrugged.

Kuwabara huffed. “Ugh, she’s teething right now, okay? And I haven’t got her a scratching post yet. She’ll grow out of it, you’ll see.”

“Whatever you say, man. Just try not to lose any limbs waiting for her to get manners, arright? Don’t wanna make our fights even more one-sided. That’d just be sad.”

“Yeah, right, Urameshi.” Kuwabara puffed out his chest. “Eikichi could take two o’ my limbs and I’d still wipe the street with ya.”

“Hey, try beating me with four limbs first, tough guy.”

The conversation devolved into threats and bickering from there, culminating in little more than wrinkled uniforms and mussed hair-dos, and one final exchange.

“You haven’t even met her, Urameshi, so how could you know what she’s like?”

“‘Cuz you’re carryin’ the proof right there, stupid! Look, don’t take it so personal. I just don’t feel like spending all day roughhousing with someone that far beneath my weight class, even if she is the precious little angel you say she is."

[SCREENSHOT 3]:

Yusuke lounged on the floor, Eikichi sitting on his chest and staring down at him.

“What’re you starin’ at, Stinkass?”

Kuwabara scoffed loudly, fluffing out the pillow Yusuke would use.

Yusuke smirked at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, your highness, I left my manners at home.” He cleared his throat. “What are you staring at, Her Royal Majesty the Queen Stinkass?”

“Man, why'dya only pick mean pet names to give ‘er?” It came out a bit harsher than he meant.

“What?” Yusuke began to sit up, but stopped when he remembered Eikichi’s place on him. He dropped back down and shut his eyes lazily. “These aren’t pet names, they’re, like, insults. That I don’t mean.”

“So ‘Stinkass’ is your idea of an affectionate nickname?”

“Gee, you don’t have to make it sound so damn girly. I’m just callin’ her that ‘cause I like her.”

“Ooh~ so you like her, huh?” Kuwabara sat up on his knees and—once Eikichi got the hint and clambered off—smacked Yusuke’s face with his pillow, holding it over his face. “Whatever happened to not bein’ mushy, tough guy?”

Yusuke wrenched the pillow from his grip and lazily swung it at him, not bothering to get up. “Hey, you told me she doesn’t judge about that sorta thing, right? And I’m learnin’ there’s benefits to bein’ mushy, like kicking ass better.” He shifted to crack his back, then sighed, relaxing into the floor. “I’m just sticking to my way, and sometimes that means calling her Kuwabara’s Favorite Little Shitblaster or whatever.”

[cryingincrocs]

I'm almost done with the ciapi oneshots!! (* ´ ▽ ` *)

Its going to be tough juggling writing, drawing and my homework especially as we near midterms. And also because I'm getting into working on my piece for my class' exhibition. Fun fact animation and film are both a lot of work!

But what I'm saying is that I'm certainly going to try! Making fanworks is always a favorite passtime of mine but it takes a lot of self control not to prioritize it lol

ANYWAYS

two oneshots coming soon!

[khaleesiofalicante]

I think i have signed up to do too many non-academic school things and obviously I can’t drop any of them (not just because I committed but also because i do actually enjoy all of it. I dropped one thing because i was overwhelmed just to replace it with another thing two days later)

I had possibly the most intense day ive had at school so far and im really scared

It was one of those days that by the time i got to bed (now) i barely doubt how productive i was cause i was straight up working from 10am until 9pm

I do enjoy the things ive signed up for and they look good on a resume but i still have classes and im so scared of when the work gets heavy. My friends say this is how people get burnt out and i think they might have a point but like- i dont wanna drop anything. Clearly im too obsessed with how much in doing and never feel like im doing enough but rationally i dont wanna push myself over a limit cause i still have 5 semesters (2 1/2 years) of uni left.

Idk what the point of this ask is but i dont have the brainpower to figure it out. Hewlp. Any advice ig? Tell me pretty words that’ll at least momentarily make me feel better :(

Love you ♡

Hey Asterin ♡,

First off, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. It sounds exhausting, and I know how tough it is to juggle academics with all the extracurriculars. And yeah, there does come a point where it impacts your health, and things start slipping on both ends.

I’m really glad you’ve recognized there’s a problem—that’s huge. Realizing you’re doing too much and acknowledging it’s difficult is the first step. But I have to gently disagree with you on one thing: you said you obviously can’t drop any of them. I don’t think that’s true. You can drop something - it’s just super hard to do.

Now, here’s the part where I give you some not-so-pretty words, even though you asked for pretty ones. Sometimes you’ve got to do the hard things to make sure things don’t get worse. I don’t know how many activities you’re involved in or how important they all are, but I can assure you that some are less crucial than others. Some things aren’t absolutely necessary. You can get back to them later in life or after school. But if you keep pushing yourself, what you love doing might start feeling like a chore. Burnout makes it hard to enjoy the things you’re passionate about, and getting that love back isn’t always easy.

You said you're scared to let go of things. Do it knowing you can always pick it up later. When you let go of something, it’s not over and done with. You can always go back to it, especially in this case. Letting go now so you can return when you feel better isn’t selfish - it’s self-care.

The world won’t fall apart because you gave up one thing. There will always be more things to fall in love with, and more things to enjoy, but to do that, you need to be healthy and not overwhelmed.

And I cannot emphasize this enough: quality over quantity, Asterin. Nobody cares how many clubs you were part of - they care about what you achieved in them. It’s better to pick one thing and master it than try to juggle a thousand things.

You don’t want to be the girl who did everything; you want to be the girl who was amazing at that particular thing. Find out what that thing is, and make it your own.

Pick one or two things, make them your own, and pour all your time and passion into them. You don’t have infinite energy, so be wise about where you invest it.

Sending you all the love and strength to make the tough choices. You’ve got this, and I’m here for you ♡.

[aliyahchais]

ꕀ ᐝ 𖠳 mookda narinrak , cis woman , she/her 𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ ‷ heads up ; if you hear VENICE BITCH by LANA DEL RAY blaring, it’s most likely ALIYAH CHAIDEE making their way down the shore ! they’re 25 years old and celebrate their birthday on 12/10 - i knew they were a SAGITTARIUS! especially since they’re very ADVENTUROUS and RESTLESS. they are from SAN FRANCISCO, CA, staying in sun retreat and are currently working as a PSYCHIATRIST/PART TIME PODCASTER, here at the cape. they always did remind me of aesthetics yoga on the beach, a shot of espresso at the crack of dawn, and burning sage.‷

NAME: Aliyah Chaidee DATE OF BIRTH: 12/10/98 GENDER: cis woman. SEXUALITY: pansexual. HEIGHT: 5’4 HAIR: brown EYES: dark SCARS: various beauty marks and freckles OCCUPATION: psychologist/therapist, podcaster

Her family was wealthy and they moved to the bustling city of San Francisco when she was just two years old. Growing up in a wealthy household, she had access to everything she needed and more. But her parents instilled in her the importance of discipline and hard work. And that's something she carried with her throughout her life. Her parents noticed her love for figure skating at a young age and decided to enroll her in classes. Aliyah quickly fell in love with the sport and spent most of her childhood training and competing in various skating competitions. Her love for figure skating only grew stronger as she got older and she dreamed of representing her country in international competitions. Despite facing numerous challenges and injuries along the way, Aliyah never gave up on her dream. But as she approached the end of high school, Aliyah faced a tough decision. Should she pursue a career in figure skating or follow her passion for studying human behavior and psychology? After much contemplation, she pursued her education and enrolled in a university to study psychology. She had always been fascinated by the complexities of the human mind and wanted to understand it better. Throughout her years of studying, Aliyah continued to train and compete in figure skating. It wasn't easy juggling both her academics and her sport, but she was determined to excel in both areas. And she did just that. Her love for figure skating never dwindled and she still trains and competes in her free time. But she has also found a fulfilling career as a psychologist/therapist, in Cape May where she also holds her own podcast that covers various amount of topics, but mostly relationships and true crime.

headcanons

Moved to Cape May as soon as she finished college. She wanted to be anywhere, but the west coast by the time she was done and heard about it from a friend.

bakes a lot when she's nervous, so if you come over you're going home with tub full of sweets

though she comes from money, she often doesn't like talking about it much at all

loves going to the gym, but mostly for aerial yoga

loves the beach and swimming, would love to learn to surf!

still frequents the ice rink (another thing that's kinda of calming for her)

collects a lot of spiritual crystals

is somewhat of a foodie

has two black cats pluto and midnight

wanted connections ideas

friends

best friend

exes

the neighbor she kinda hates, but eventually grows fond of

blast from the past ( someone she knew back in university or high school that happens to live in Cape May too. They get back reconnected.

workout buddy

open to discuss more or wing it!

[leonsliga]

Loved the RM to Bayern story! It's tough to support two teams but I for one am glad to hear you'd root for a Bayer victory if they faced each other.

I used to be an RM supporter too until I moved to Barcelona. Quelled and squashed, my love for RM I had to keep under wraps and it eventually faded away. And though I never supported BCN Idk why I somehow just quit football as a whole and when I got back it was only because Bayern or I should really say Leon with his heart against the homophobes v Hungary in the Euros, sparked my love for the humanness and beauty of this sport.

I'll forever be grateful for that moment as I remember thinking... hmm who this, brave man, whom does he play for and the rest is history.

Aww thank you bestie!! It definitely can be hard to juggle multiple teams, but I’m pretty sure I’d be lying if I said Bayern wasn’t my favorite of the bunch 😂

I didn’t know you used to be a madridista; the more ya know :) sometimes that happens…for one reason or another, you fall out of love with a club. But love works in mysterious ways; sometimes their rival captures your heart. Football is funny that way, isn’t it? I can understand the appeal of Barça for sure, especially when Messi was still there and they were at the peak of their powers. Even as a Madridista, I have to admit there was a true beauty in their football then. There’s also nothing wrong with quitting on football, even if it’s just for a little while; there’s some days where I wonder if it’s good for my mental health to love a sport so much lol.

That’s the thing about Bayern, right? They simply won’t be ignored. You gravitate to them whether you want to or not. That’s how it was with me, and it sounds like it was the same way for you too :) at their best, they’re all that we’ve ever loved about football.

And what an iconic moment that was, not just during that particular euros but for Leon as well.

I love the way he responded after the match too:

There’s just something about his outspokenness, his willingness to stand his ground and fight homophobia like he did, that makes him special. He showed us in that moment what football is at its best. It’s about love—it’s this beautiful game that brings us together week in and week out to experience the whole spectrum of human emotion. And everyone should be allowed to experience that. Not only that, but he’s shown throughout his career that he meant that heart gesture with his entire being. He’s constantly speaking out against any form of discrimination and positioning himself clearly. He’s a class act; how could you not love him? He really is a brave man 🥹