#the thing about being a poet is this exact thing i guess

[shari-ya]

one december evening looking up at the almost empty sky, i told you how i didn't wanted to leave the moon and go back inside, it's just too beautiful tonight and i love the way my heart feels heavy looking at it. without thinking much you said maybe it's the moon that doesn't want to leave me, maybe it's the moon that is keeping me from drawing the curtains. and suddenly everything went silent.

that entire night i kept thinking of how more than half of our bodies are made up of water and how that celestial loves to dance with the tides; making them stay suspended until it gets enough of it, until it decides it's time for them to rise. that evening you made me think of myself as something more than what i am. something beyond the restrictions i felt as a mere mortal. that evening, you gave me the power to feel myself within the tides. my heavy heart, overflowed.

later on when i told you about this lingering thought, you said something about how can i think of something so beyond, so beautiful? and i nodded my head as i agreed — not on what you said about me, but because of a similar question i wanted to ask you — how can you say such things, and not expect me to fall in love?

[crmsnmth]

1000 posts (a little note for the readers and to my fellow poets)

I started this project back in February. February Third to be exact, ( a month after my father passed away from a car accident and a major stroke) posting really short one liners, still unsure if I wanted to share my art. I'm glad I did share it though. I'm not gonna lie, this helps with my self-esteem, and if you've actually read any of my work, it's pretty obvious I'm not my biggest fan (I am fine, I'm ok, I will never go down that path again) I know I post a lot, and considering I like to write about the same instances, some of my work is redundant. But still, there's always someone out there who sees it and lets me know, be it a like, a reblog, a comment and sometimes even a direct message. And that kind of makes it worth it. It makes me feel like that maybe I'm helping someone out there go through their own personal hell. I've been to hell and back so many times, Satan just waves when I show up. But all that means is, if I help just one person, my obsession with nonstop writing is worth it. Thank you to everyone for the kind words and the likes and all of that jazz. You have no idea how humbling it is to hear or see this happen. My heart is so warmed, and I don't feel nearly as alone as I did for so long. So very long. I've always written like a maniac, and I've always written stuff that might be consider a little emo, or a little dark (there's a reason I call myself a misery poet) and for years I kept them in my notebooks, hoarded away to never see the light of the day. Honestly, most of those won't ever be seen. If they were meant for public consumption, I would've done it. Those words stay hidden. Putting myself out is difficult, due to years of abuse, both by the hands of people who said they loved me, and from my own twisted up medication filled brain. I found another reason here, and I've gained confidence in my real life from this. I cannot possibly thank you all for the positive feedback. Even the few negative things I take with pride and in stride, I wish I could thank each and every person that's interacted, or even just read my work in passing. I never would've guessed that I'd be putting my work out on a public forum like this, but here I am, 1000 posts later, most of which being original poems and parts of stories. I love you all. Thank you for being here on this weird little journey I'm on. Hopefully, one day my name will be on an actual book, and when that day comes, you are all entitled to a free copy and a dedication page for you all. And I am 100% serious. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my bottom less heart

[featherlessredheads]

Hey so uhhhh serious post. Please read.

To everyone who's been following @borg-collective, aka Marc, please unfollow/block/report him. Back in September I blocked him on all platforms because of weird, creepy & (though non-threatening) stalker behaviour on Tumblr, Instagram and even in real life. Didn't want to make a big deal about it, so I blocked him and left it at that. Yesterday however, I found out that apparently he's been impersonating me on Tumblr for the past two months through @deadrock-n-rollsociety - which is my old URL that I used for years. I'm super creeped out, so please help me by getting this guy off Tumblr.

Read under the cut for explanation & proof.

How is Marc impersonating me?

He took my old URL, deadrock-n-rollsociety (screenshot 1)

He recreated my current header that features 2 (Nord) keyboards (compare screenshot 2 to my header)

He's been reblogging the exact same posts I have, usually a day later, through the same users that I reblogged it from. Until yesterday it was never directly from my own blog, just from my mutuals. (screenshot 3)

He's been blogging about my interests (specific musical artists/bands, playing piano, the 2 movies I based my old URL on (Dead Poets Society & Almost Famous), etc.)

Blogging about the same stuff shouldn't be sus per se, but all these things combined make it very clear to me and my friends that he's targeting me. Also, not really related to me I guess, but what the hell is that profile picture? Slightly feels like a threat. (screenshot 4)

How do I know it's Marc?

Gut feeling. I know that's no hard evidence, but I don't know anyone else who would do this and I haven't had anyone else that has been showing stalker behaviour towards me except for him.

From around May - September 2023 he based most of his reblogs on borg-collective on my specific interests, followed all the same (local) bands on Instagram that I follow, basically based his whole personality on me, started showing up at my gigs unannounced. Would make sense if he's doing it again this time.

He used the tag "#pretty moots" on both this impersonator blog and his main blog (screenshot 5 & 6)

He's been reblogging some of the same posts on both @deadrock-n-rollsociety and @borg-collective, both through the same source. (screenshot 7 & 8)

This guy is in his 30's, impersonating a random girl he met on Tumblr a year ago. If that's not sad I don't know what is. Luckily it's still not really anything directly threatening, but I'm so tired of this guy not being able to leave me alone. I don't understand what his game or goal is here, but the whole situation is making me feel SUPER uncomfortable. So please help me out by getting this guy off Tumblr.

If you want to know more or have any questions, please DM me.

[biribaa]

Sebastian J. Cricket x reader headcanons!

Pls his voice in the brazilian dub is so good?? He such special man i love him yes i ignored every single Thing Request JUST to make this thing

TW/CW: """Stalking"""???

He's a goofy, silly but polite man, OF COURSE he will be the first to fall in love. And with that, Sebastian is slowly and slowly giving you more hints about his feelings, with flowers, compliments on your face and poetry! He literally daydreams with you 24/7, sometimes he just tries to stay in a place where you can't see him so he can admire you, your face, your hair, your eyes and your moves, trying to capture your exact appearance in words. Don't misunderstand him! He's not being a stalker, I mean, that could be considered stalking, but not in a selfish, non-toxic way, does that exist?

He loves playing the violin for you, in general Sebastian loves playing the violin, but for you? It's special, it's different from every time he's performed, a special feeling flowing inside of him. So you can ask Sebastian to play his violin as much as you want, it's always all his pleasure to play it for you.

He's not extremely jealous, but it's clear he has his moments of jealous feelings at one time or another. Sebastian understands that you have friends and family, he knows who are best friends when he sees best friends, but when it comes to someone who is in fact romantically interested in you, Sebastian will take action about it. It is clear that Sebastian does not do any actions that harm neither you nor the person who is interested in you! It would be more... "A battle of gifts" (Which will obviously end up with Sebastian getting all stressed).

Of course, Sebastian understands that a colorful friendship needs to be formed to start a romantic relationship, Sebastian can be selfish sometimes, but he can't be that selfish, to see you only as a muse and not a poet would be a sin for Sebastian himself.

Sebastian tries his hardest not to be selfish with you, preventing bragging so as not to make you uncomfortable, but of course, if you insist he tell you about his adventures, he'll gladly tell you. For Sebastian, telling his adventures from his point of view is almost a declaration of love.

Speaking of the devil, declaration time. Sebastian is someone artistic, he is an artist and he makes his whole life his own art, and the declaration of love for his soul mate, his true love, is part of that, and he wants it to stand out, not for him but for you. So Sebastian put the dots together, and just assumed the best way would be to sing you a love song on his violin, and then finally make the declaration, after all, every time he plays the violin for you is special, always.

”Oh my– Yes, of course! I love you too Sebastian!“

”Oh, it's fine Y/N, you are not being forced to love me anyway.“

”What? No no,“ You giggle ”Did you heard what I said? I love you, Sebastian.“

”After all, who am I to control your feelings? Be free Y/N– WAIT WHAT?!”

Sebastian is 100% sure he is the happiest cricket in the world after the two began a romantic relationship. And guess what he have the double of the gifts for you! Every week he comes walking up to you with the greatest difficulty with a bunch of flowers bigger than himself that he made by hand.

Of course, as her romantic partner, Sebastian wants to prove to the fullest that he can be your best boyfriend, so he will always take care and remind you to take care of your own health, he understands that you have two difficulties, but even so, Sebastian will do his best to take care of you.

Oh of course he uses romantic nicknames with you! ”Honey“, ”Love“ and ”Dear“ are his most used even in public, while ”My love“, ”Sweetheart“ and ”Dearest“ Are mostly used in more private moments between you and him.

Of course, Sebastian manages to balance the romantic relationship and friendship between the two of you, if you know what I mean. Sometimes playing chess, or maybe some card games, maybe singing and dancing together(If you play an instrument it makes everything better), maybe a hike on a trail or read a book together!

Sebastian is much less jealous than before, he trusts you deeply, it's almost impossible to explain in words the trust, loyalty and love that Sebastian feels for you, he knows and feels in his heart that you would never cheat on him.

Definitely not a flirty, it's not that he dislikes it, but Sebastian just thinks it's unnecessary, and he doesn't mind if you're not too! But at the same time he never said he wouldn't mind if you were one. Sebastian will stutter so much if you go at him with flirts without any context, hiding his face under a book, mumbling and mumbling, but deep down, down and down, he's enjoying this.

Sebastian's kisses are adorable, in his size, his kisses are almost ticklish for you. It's usually easier for Sebastian to kiss your cheek, it has more space, it's softer, it's perfect for him to kiss, but of course there are times when he actually tries to kiss you on the lips, with some difficulties, such as his size.

Conclusion, Sebastian is a very loyal cricket, he may fail many times, but he is trying, trying to make you and him happy in a healthy relationship that he hopes more than anything lasts until his death

[willothewispwisteriadawn]

Ok more listens to THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. Here are some thoughts.

Praises:

Lyrics 🖤🤍 I know that the lyrics are polarizing, from what I’ve been seeing, but I like the metaphors and strong imagery.

The vibes are relaxing and thoughtful

This album continues on with the things I loved about Folklore and Evermore (though I don’t think anything will ever, ever top Evermore) while being still different.

Criticism

Too many songs and they start to sound similar. I generally am opposed to the criticisms that Taylor Swift’s music all sounds the same, because her whole thing is dabbling in new themes. I feel like I can really articulate the differences. That said, TTPD has 31 songs, and I love a lot of them but some of them just blend. It feels like she took a book of poetry she’d written and put it all to music, and some songs were excellent and some were just kind of there. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed.

I wish certain things had been more subtle. For example, spelling out Kim Kardashian’s name in caps in “thanK you aIMee” felt very inelegant.

Anyway, people are always really surprised when I actually talk about liking Taylor Swift. I guess I don’t give that off lol. I had her first album as a kid. I loved her at debut and have nostalgia. I was very into her music until Reputation and Lover. I did not like either of those albums aside from a few songs (“Delicate” and “Cornelia Street” 🤍). And basically I was over her. But I ended up getting Evermore to listen to during like one of the most emotionally confusing years of my life, and it was the exact music I loved and needed then. I went back and listened to Folklore and liked it. So I was back full force. Evermore just means that much to me.

Midnights and TTPD both get good marks from me. It’s not the same emotional shot-in-the-head, but both are good. I liked the lyrics better in TTPD, but Midnights had more variation.

[gregorygerwitz]

Always asking for elaboration! This time on the soldier, poet, king post, regarding the mice!

I'm gonna guess Brandon poet, mouse Soldier, Gregory king?

I can't tell if the boys or me are the predictable factor in this scenario, because you're the second person to get it exactly right.

Mouse is the soldier. Brandon is the poet. Gregory is the king.

I was already thinking about this in the car on my drive home yesterday, and then I'm getting a bunch of videos about the quiz and what the results mean on my tiktok fyp, so I only thought about it more last night instead of writing or sleeping. Two videos in particular (I screenshotted one and have the other burned into my brain, but no links, sorry) really solidified my choices for each of the Mice, and that's where the elaboration/essay comes in:

One of the videos was about trauma, and how each type (soldier/poet/king) does or doesn't process and work through it. And I was already settled on Mouse as the soldier and Gregory as the king, but Brandon, up until that point, had been the poet by default because that's the third option. But this tiktok...

Kings, like Gregory, are "people who compare their trauma to others' instead of reflecting to find their own answers." And... yeah. I talk about Gregory basically wearing a mask and pretending to be something he's not for his parents' approval. He's constantly being compared to others and their accomplishments and what they have and don't have, even if he's not necessarily being hard on himself. He's held to a higher standard, by his parents and by society. And he has all this money and this comfortable life, so really, he shouldn't be miserable. He has to push down the ache that comes with pretending so often and be this representation for his family legacy, and that is what matters, not trying to figure out if he needs therapy or not (he does he does he does he doe-)

Soldiers, like Mouse, are "people who don't think they deserve to process their trauma and struggle alone." And, I mean, as soon as I looked at the options for this little personality test, I knew Mouse was gonna be the soldier. He literally says it himself in canon. He was born to be a soldier. All of his trauma is from his childhood or a war zone - situations he got out of, he got to escape, he got to start to heal from. But the way he sees it, he's not in those situations anymore, so why is he still upset about them? Why do they still affect him so much? He hasn't talked to his parents in years. He's been in Chicago again for half a decade again before he reenlists. Even when he reenlists, he's too busy facing new trauma and danger to worry about the old wounds.

Poets, like Brandon, are "people who painstakingly think about their trauma to help others while inevitably avoiding their own trauma." I think this fits Brandon, especially, when I consider how he grew up. He grew up watching Trudy walk out the door every morning not knowing if she was going to come back, with his uncles doing the exact same thing, listening to the police scanner when he got home from school just to have on in the background while he did homework or laundry because it was some hollow reassurance that he could know what was going on if something did happen to go wrong. He grew up doing favors for Uncle Hank - picking up Erin when she got into some trouble, doing the same with Justin, eventually playing undercover himself to sit in the back of the theater and keep an eye on things when Lexi went on dates. He played the role of well behaved son, protective cousin, reliable nephew... he was too busy worrying about everyone else to take the time to worry about himself.

The other tiktok I haven't stopped thinking about for almost 24 hours was just one line: the king is just a poet who had to be a soldier. And in the context of the Mice... it just really hurts to think about too much. I love suffering.

[the-missann]

So, this is to my followers and anyone else who fits the bill.

After reading a post about the chance of Google using google docs in their AI learning, I had a large urge overcome me and I really want to do something as a small ant.

As much as I don't like bugs, ants aren't very strong on their own, but we all know the damage they can do as a group.

So, I've decided to make a writing group and if you're interested keep reading. This also isn't just a writing group, it's a group for anything related to writing. So that can be an artists who draw character concepts.

Again, read more if this piques your curiosity...

The Unserious Writing Group

Writing is a serious craft that needs some fun brought back into it. I've been inspired by several people in the last few years and I want to try something to contribute to my favorite thing to do: writing. I've tried to join other groups and it simply doesn't work since my writing doesn't fit into a neat category, so I feel isolated from the group rather quickly, in order to avoid that feeling I'm making as many of the things I do a part of the group's core. I'll also be considering my anxiety into this knowing how tasking it is for me to interact with a group I'm being overwhelmed by.

Plans: I'm better at organizing than actual execution, so I'm making this list of things I want to expand on (06/15/23)

Monthly (or weekly) Prompts

Shameless sharing

Friendly Discussions

Writing Assistance

Review Swaps

Editing Help

Projects

Book Club

Check-ins

Venting about writing

I don't want this group to be just for writers or just for poets, I want to include everyone that I can because I write in almost every genre and include almost every interesting element I can. As long as it's related to writing in some way, you're more than welcome to join!

This includes:

Novelists

Short Story Writers

Poets

Artists

Fanfiction writers

Avid readers

Editors

Critiquers

Playwrights

Song writers

Publishers

Hobby writers

And more!

Every aspiring author or published author knows networking is important and with how little accessible support there is for writers, I want to try and create a space for writers to feel as everyone else does in their field. I can only speak for myself but my journey to publication has been nothing but dead ends and it's very discouraging. Nothing I've tried works and I can't find the exact source to the problem and therefore can't fix it—I don't know if I'm a bad writer or if it's just my cover that's bad.

I want writers to feel like they're heard and supported no matter if you're writing the next Star Wars or a story about pieces of paper thinking they were trees in a former life. I want writers to be acknowledged for giving the world their fandoms.

Despite my ambitions, I obviously have some concerns I feel will come up:

I get overwhelmed easily (and guess what I already am overwhelmed and no one has even joined yet 🤢) and I would need someone to assist me as a co-leader essentially. If anyone would be interested in that role, DM me.

If this moves to Discord or some other platform, I will have no idea how to set that up. For now, I was considering just having a large thread.

Unfortunately, until I can get moderators or any other form of help, I can't have the group open to minors. It would be 18+ only until then, I wanna allow people a safe space to discuss anything.

Activity is a big issue in most writing communities. It comes with it, but I want to have something going on whenever possible.

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Nine

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here 

a/n: getting messy.

word count: 2618

tw: swearing, google translated italian, kiara, mentions of sex, alcohol and drug use (mentioned)

summary: cass experiencing the after-effects of alcohol probably for the first time and the way her memory system works confuses her, while in the meanwhile, they are getting ready for the upcoming yule ball, and enzo's secret gets revealed.

<previous chapter          next chapter>

dividers by @chachachannah

The hungover dies down at its lazy pace, but excruciatingly slowly for me as I'm not used to it in the slightest. So, for the next day, I don't even attempt to return to my dorm and just lounge about in Ki's bed. The memory of the kiss I shared with her last night left an odd lingering feeling on my body. However, ever since yesterday morning, I feel like she, Mattheo and Theo have been holding some information back from me, and I feel left out again.

Thinking hurts my brain in this state but I can't seem to stop overdoing it anyway as my thoughts rush with what has got into Enzo lately, why he isolated himself from us four. I can't believe he's still mad at me for kissing Mattheo – which he doesn't even have anything to do with in the first place. He's started acting strangely in the past month and a half, constantly disappearing from dinner, sometimes not even showing up – which was my thing – and not coming to hang out with us most of the time. And I'm just beating around the bush, trying to corner him to have a chat. I miss my best friend. I'm trying to figure out what I've done wrong, and where I went amiss. But I'm glad he came last night as it's been a while.

Mattheo on this exact period started hooking up with girls he's barely ever even talked to, which is really not a secret, and I don't know why but it just bothers me. Every time I'm reminded of this information, it leaves a lingering feeling of frustration, jealousy and the thought of when my time will finally come for a relationship. Kiara tells me my feelings are valid yet they seem so surreal to me because hell, I'm only fifteen; I've got my whole ahead of me for sex and everything, don't I? The O.W.L.s are this year anyway and I still have no idea what I want to do after Hogwarts. I'd like to be an Auror but being good at DADA doesn't mean I'd excel at this job. My poems are in a very initial phase as well, I wouldn't make a great poet anyway – I might have to marry rich and have a sugar daddy instead, as Ki likes to joke about it.

The thoughts about what to do after school consume my mind for days, even when McGonagall tells us about the Yule Ball. Merlin, it's only mid-November and people are already signing up to stay for the Christmas break simply because of this rare upcoming event. Girls are gushing about who they want to go with, the boys are yet to ask anyone, dodging the question.

The news of the Yule Ball of course comes with tons of girls wanting to go with Mattheo, Theo or Enzo, out of their popularity, place in the food chain and because they are 'fine as hell,' as I've heard Lavender Brown from a year below me refer to them. This thing wouldn't really bother me if the girls in question would let me eat my lunch without addressing snarky looks at me for simply sitting with my friends, or if they'd stop trying to get me to play matchmaker for them and set them up with either of the boys.

"So, who are you going with?" Theo looks at me over the lunch table on Thursday. It's only me and the boys yet – Kiara is having a really important conversation about black holes with Professor Harper in the Astronomy classroom. Not that I couldn't talk about spaghettification endlessly if she asked me...

"Me?" I raise my brows at the boy across me, looking up from my soup, and then snort a brief laugh. "Bold of you to assume anyone has asked me to the Ball. Why, who are you going with?"

Theo shrugs. "Dunno. I guess I'm going alone, so I can dance with everyone."

I roll my eyes and scoff. "There won't be another event like this. This is your only chance to ask someone special. You can play Casanova any other day."

He smirks mischievously, "In this case would you–"

"No way," I laugh and shake my head before it decreases into a small, encouraging smile. "You can't take me simply because you are afraid to ask someone out. You're afraid of rejection, I know, but if you really like her, show it, Theo," I sigh. "I'm not talking about these grandiose gestures like a speaker over your head," here both boys share a look, confused by my muggle film reference, "Just flowers maybe."

"It's November, there aren't any flowers, dumbass," he rolls his eyes as he mutters.

"You're a wizard, fucker," Mattheo rolls his eyes at his best friend, to which Theo shoves him.

"See? Be creative. Show her your best side."

Theo only lets out a gruff and I decide to drop the topic instead.

"You two have been awfully quiet," I look at Enzo and Mattheo, Enzo sitting across me next to Theo, the latter on my right.

They share a look and after a moment of silence, Mattheo shrugs and Enzo starts talking.

"We're not taking anyone."

I raise my brows.

"What about Daphne?" I turn to Mattheo. He's talked about her before. Briefly, however, but he has.

"Not my type," Matt shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant about the topic. I find it weird, I have no idea why all three of them are trying to dodge it and shrug it off by not taking their only chance. Or they just see it differently since they are guys but I strongly believe they'll regret it if they don't ask someone to the ball later.

"Since when?" I frown at him.

"Salazar's balls, just drop it. She's pretty but she's shallow, alright? Too much like Lavender Brown," he barks back and I mutter a 'Sorry' before he sighs and shakes his head and I move on to the brunette across me.

"Enz, you?" he shrugs.

"Rather going alone. No one has really caught my attention."

I sigh and shake my head before returning to my soup in silence.

Theo though insists on keeping the conversation running, but I have no idea what his intention with it is. "So, really no one has asked you?" he asks and I shake my head. He frowns. "They're stupid not to."

I frown at his statement and shake my head. "I'll get over it." It's clear that under the tough facade I'm trying to keep up so desperately there is a vulnerable girl who wants nothing more than to feel like she's a priority for someone and not the last idea – just for once. Maybe the problem is my appearance; I'm not skinny or pretty enough to be the love at first sight in someone else's story. I know it's not the goal to be that type, yet my heart aches for someone to look at me and think how pretty I am. This beauty could be my eyes alone, maybe my smile I despise so much, or the overall image of my body and face. But no, they'll have to get to know me – which isn't a bad thing, I know relationships aren't based on looks. And I want something meaningful, but is it such a big request to have someone think I'm at least pretty, if not beautiful. But gosh, I just want to experience that iconic ‘he grabs my hand, looks me in the eye and gently says ‘you’re gorgeous’’ for once. I want someone who wants to know what kind of beauty is under my skin because they have already seen how beautiful I am on the outside.

Ki's sudden appearance is what shakes me out of my spiralling thoughts, and the grin on her face tells me a lot more than any words.

"Daddy is daddying," she exclaims with a smirk, taking a seat on my left.

A month passes by quicker than expected with all the schoolwork such as homework, studying, and assignments I have to do besides the dance lessons, frantic dress-hunting through Hogsmeade's clothing shops every weekend with Kiara, and of course, engaging in extracurricular activities, aka partying on the weekends.

Enzo's still a bit distant but he's starting to warm up again, hence the five of us are becoming the group we used to be again. But it doesn't mean he's at every one of the hangouts, like how he wasn't there today either.

I lie down in my bed with a sigh, light-headedly, absent-minded after a night spent drinking and smoking with Ki, and the Theos – yes, Mattheo and Theo started calling themselves this as a joke because they found they were almost always mentioned together, either as Mattheo and Theo, Theo and Mattheo, or by their last names in either sequence.

Sleep takes over my body fast, my already half-lidded eyes closing in an instant as my mind drifts to strange places, all-too-lifelike dreams of Mattheo and I kissing, not aware of Kiara lying down next to me frustratedly. I think I even mutter "Are you alright?" to her but my mind refuses to take her answer in.

I wake up the next morning to my impatient best friend nagging me to get up. First, I refuse to acknowledge her, then roll over but when my methods to go back to sleep fail, I give in and roll back over to face her. My head feels twice its size after last night, and my heart aches for that strangely homey feeling I had in my dream.

"What is that?" I pull the covers higher up on me and stuff them under my chin comfortably with tired eyes and a sleepy voice as I see the black little notebook I'm seeing in her hand.

"This?" she responds with a rhetorical question while shaking the book in her hand with a stern expression, disappointment mixing in her eyes. "Enzo's."

I frown, not quite catching on as to what the connection between the jotter and the look on her face is, but whatever it might be, I know for a fact I won't be too happy about it either.

"So? You stole his diary?" I frown, still not moving a finger from under the warmth of my duvet.

"Could say," she mutters almost angrily as if I didn't take her seriously. But it's just Enzo's journal – why should I be mad about it?

She opens it and starts reading the first page:

"Muggleborn: five points

Half-blood: Ten points

Pure-blood: Twenty points." She then tosses the book into my lap and waits for me to start reading it. I frown and finally sit up, suddenly feeling cold as the covers fall off of my upper body and into my lap.

I flip a page and start reading.

Millicent Bulstrode – 10 p Daphne Greengrass – 20 p Megan Jones – 10 p Mandy Brocklehurst – 10 p Sue Li Lisa Turpin Pansy Parkinson – 20 p Sophie Roper Emma Vane Lavender Brown – 20 p Hermione Granger Parvati Patil – 20 p Padma Patil – 20 p Hannah Abbott – 10 p Susan Bones Sally Smith Katie Bell – 10 p Cho Chang Marietta Edgecombe Angelina Johnson Alicia Spinnet – 10 p

I raise my brows as I flick through the pages filled with girls' names from Hogwarts, and then with a frown, I look at Ki. "What... what's this?" I shake my head., confused but with a feeling that I won't like the explanation.

"Mattheo and Enzo made a bet," she starts, taking a dramatic pause before continuing. "About who to shag more girls."

I feel my heart sink right at that. They what?

"And Berkshire decided to make it a game. He gets points after each girl. Five for fucking a Muggleborn, ten for a Half-blood, and twenty for a Pureblood," she clarifies with a passive-aggressive tone.

I try to make sense of it all, but my head's spinning after last night, the disappointment and disgust washing over my body and making my stomach twist into uncomfortable knots.

"So all names crossed..." I start but she nods immediately, practically cutting me off and confirming my suspicion, that all the girls with crossed names and with some points behind them Enzo has been with.

"He fucked them all," she nods, trying to regain her control over her temper. I feel my mind flooding with questions about this whole thing, and about Enzo, displacing the headache and the odd comfortability of the dream I had. I can't believe he started this. Would he have really changed this much? He was so innocent, so pure – when has he become a womanizer? And why?

"How... how do you know about this?" I shake my head, dumbfounded and disappointed.

"Theo told me. Last night," I frown – I was with them last night. I drank a little but would I really forget a conversation like this?

I shake my head, "Where was I when this happened?"

She stays silent for a moment, and I can't really read her expression, but I see her surprise turn into hesitation. She takes a deep inhale before speaking. "Kissing Mattheo."

I raise my brows and I stiffen up in my whole body. At first, I think she's just joking but then, seeing her serious expression, my eyes widen slightly and my eyebrows stay high on my wrinkling forehead. "I what?"

She nods, chewing her bottom lip for a second before continuing, "Remember the first time we were at the Astronomy Tower with the Theos, drinking and whatnot?" I nod. "You two kissed back then too."

My head starts spinning yet again but I stay stiffened up, in my bed. I start counting, that was over a month ago. And this means those dreams were more like memories... fuck what have I done? I'm gonna mess everything up, again. Why can't I stop kissing Mattheo Riddle? The flashbacks hit me like a double-decker bus and I can't stop thinking about how real the memories are, how this was the fourth time we kissed. Why hasn't anyone said anything about this all this time? They had a whole month. This is what Ki, Mattheo and Theo were trying to keep from me – and probably from Enzo too.

She gestures to me to flip in the book as I regain my composure after a few minutes, and as I do so I am met with our names.

BONUS POINTS – the words read on top of the page in Enzo's messy, capitalized handwriting.

Kiara Bianchi* Cassie Black*

* kiss: 10 p foreplay: 30 p oral: 40 p sex: 50 p

My heart doesn't even have time to sink properly before Ki tears that one page of the notebook out of my hand, and starts out of my room. I need a few seconds to snap out of my numbness and be able to run after my raging best friend with the rest of the notebook in my hand.

She doesn't run – she never does, but right now, she's close to it as she speedwalks down to the dungeons with me behind her. She doesn't stop until Enzo's dorm room and starts banging on the door, yelling in half-Italian and half-English. "Bring your goddamn arse right out you cazzo piccolo disgustoso!"

I however stop farther up the corridor and don't go all the way to Enzo's, frozen in place with a cold, expressionless face, still in PJs and gripping the book in my right.

The doors to Mattheo's and Theo's dorms open and they share a look before Ki's fist has nothing to touch anymore as Enzo's opens as well.

This isn't going to end well.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Bsd Is Kinda A Genius Anime: Pt 7

It's finally time.

It's the last part.

It's time for the Rats in the House of the Dead. (minus Fyodor)

Are y'all ready?

(I guess also minus Nathanial cause I did him in the last part)

Alexander Pushkin

Ability: A Feast in Time of Plague

Let's get this mf out of the way first. So.... I think I've actually heard of this guy's RLC. I don't know much about him, but apparently he was a Russian poet who wrote "Ode to Liberty," one of many controversial poems that got him exiled. (If you ask me, Pushkin's the exact opposite, the little asshole) Uhhh.... Oof.... Pushkin's ability is based on a play translation from "John Wilson"'s "The City of the Plague." It's a real dark play, which is what Pushkin's RLC did a lot. It's basically a small play about a dinner party, and during the dinner party, the host announces that a friend of the guests died from the plague, and then they wheel in the body of the dead friend. And that's it. That's how it ends. I can see where the base of the ability came from, that being a virus (aka a sickness) and all. A good connection for the ability, but not much for the actual character. (But Pushkin can freaking die.)

Ivan Goncharov

Ability: The Precipice

And now for the half-brained freak. Man, Fyodor fucked this guy up. Anyway! Apparently, Fyodor's RLC held Ivan's RLC in high regard, which is the exact opposite as in the series. (There seems to be a lot of that) Uhh.... wow. Ivan's RLC was from an extremely noble family and held a shit ton of higher up jobs. Not much of a connection though.... The book "The Precipice" is not much of a connection either. It's about these three guys pining after this one really independent and smart woman. Each of the guys has a very specific description. One of them is pretending to be an artist, another is a nihilist (for those who are about to look that up, it basically means they think values are dumb, life is meaningless, and/or that knowledge is impossible. Dazai would kinda be considered a nihilist for the "life is meaningless" part), and the last one is a traditional but progressive landowner. It also has a lot of philosophical stuff in it, but besides that, there's not really a connection to anything with Ivan. Maybe the landowner since his ability has to do with the ground, but that's way too big of a stretch. *sigh* Any ideas?

Mushitarō Oguri

Ability: The Perfect Crime

Ok hair helmet man, what do you got for me? Hm hm hm.... His RLC wrote mystery novels, that fits. He also died young, which could be a connection to Mushitaro's friend (who's name I can't remember....) The book is also a simple connection, since it's a "locked-room mystery novel." Sound familiar? Besides that, nothing really else. His connections are simple and easy.

And that's the last part.

I'm a little happy I don't have to do any more research.

But now I have all this knowledge in my head about these characters.

What good is that gonna do me?

Unless I can find a trivia BSD thing at a convention (unlikely), this info shall go unused.

*sigh*

I just hope y'all liked this series.

[bi-bard]

I Guess Sometimes We All Get Just What We Wanted - Emily Prentiss Imagine (Criminal Minds)

Title: I Guess Sometimes We All Get Just What We Wanted

Pairing: Emily Prentiss X Reader

Based On: Midnight Rain

Word Count: 1,111 words

Warning(s): mention of failed relationship/engagement

Summary: The team wants to know more about their newest team member, Emily Prentiss. This leads to the reveal of a story that she would've rather kept buried.

Author's Note: Oh my god, we're getting Prentiss back in a few weeks. Y'all. I'm not ready.

MIDNIGHT - TAYLOR SWIFT WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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When Emily joined the B.A.U team, there was a lot of curiosity.

People wanted to know about their new team member. It was a normal thing to have questions about. Emily wasn't upset with them for that. She knew that expecting them to never ask questions would be unrealistic.

Emily just felt like she was a little too busy proving that she deserved to be there at all to start gossiping about her personal life.

Until there was one day when they all found themselves crowded around the little break area. Late night, early morning... coffee was a necessity at this point. Garcia had even waited to enjoy her drink before she ran back to her office. The only one missing was Hotch, who seemed to survive more on paperwork than coffee.

Emily had looked over at Spencer, who was sitting at the end of the little white table. His mug was sitting in front of him as he quickly flipped through the pages of a new book. Emily scanned the cover. Her eyes almost felt like they got snagged on the name printed on it.

"What book is that," she asked before she could even try to talk herself out of it.

"Garcia got it for me," Spencer explained, not pulling his eyes from the book.

"Garcia got you a book of poems?"

This time Spencer did look up, pausing for a moment before answering, "It's a personal joke."

Emily nodded, chuckling a bit.

"Why do you ask," he brought the conversation back to Emily's question.

"Oh, I know the author."

The entire team seemed to snap their heads over to her.

"Really?" J.J chimed in.

"Yeah... (Y/n) (Y/l/n)... we're... old friends."

Emily could've sworn that all of them raised an eyebrow at the same exact time. How long until she was able to do that?

"What?"

"Do you realize how much you paused during a sentence that had six words," Morgan asked.

Emily could've rolled her eyes.

"I wanna know everything," Garcia said quickly. "Please."

"It's nothing-"

"Come on, there's gotta be some kind of story," Morgan pushed. Probably only because Garcia had, but that was something to be addressed on a different day.

"Yeah," J.J joined in, effectively catching Emily off guard.

Emily sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. "We... God, alright, listen..."

There were maybe two more pushes from Garcia before Emily finally let the truth slip.

"We were together," she explained. The team was silent after that. "Almost... Almost engaged, actually."

Any empty seats at the table were taken in a matter of moments. Emily felt like it was show-and-tell day at school.

"Well..."

She suddenly realized that she had never told this story out loud. She didn't have little safe checkpoints to get to. What was she meant to describe to them?

"We... we met in college," she looked around the team more than she looked at them. "(Y/n) was always a bit of a hopeless romantic... kinda comes with the poet thing, I guess. They were persistent. Not in a creepy way or anything... they just were."

Emily could've cringed at herself. She didn't feel like she was doing a good job explaining this.

"I was dismissive at first. Nice enough to be friendly. When (Y/n) finally asked me, they had worn me down. They... They showed up at my apartment door with a rose. We were broke college kids, so we didn't have a lot of spare money, but they took me on a picnic. I just... I remembered being so calm and relaxed. I spent all of college just getting my work done. With them, I didn't need to do that.

"After that... it's all a bit of a blur. I had never been in a relationship as intense as that one. We were spending the night at each other's place all the time, I was suddenly being cared for every day, there would poems and kind acts and just... everything."

Emily paused a moment, a small grin crossing her face. She didn't need to share every detail with the team, but she couldn't help that her mind suddenly flashed through the kisses and the touches. The nights together and the poems that (Y/n) would mutter to her as they kissed her skin.

She shook her head and kept talking, "(Y/n) gave me a poem to say they loved me. They were a hopeless romantic that got nervous around big romantic moments. I was swept off my feet, completely. Everything simply felt so simple with them."

The happy moments. Emily could lie. Say that they simply fell out of love but at least they had happy moments.

But that would be a lie that the team would probably see right through.

"I think we were together for a little over a year and a half before they proposed," she felt a guilty feeling in her chest. She never realized how long she avoided speaking about this. "It was... It was over dinner at their place. They had decorated... and cooked my favorite foods. There were candles and music and stuff...

"And then, they went to grab the wine and then just... asked. Had a little ring and everything."

There was a pause. A long pause. One where Emily was trying to calm the sickening feeling in her gut.

"And you said no," Garcia asked. Not condescending or upset or anything. Just curious. It helped Emily more than Garcia would ever realize.

"Not at first," she admitted. "I... I don't know if it was just too sudden or maybe I wanted to say 'yes' at the time, but I said yes. And then... I sat up all night... just staring at the ring... and I just... I couldn't do it. I was so focused on my work, and I was worried getting married would... prevent that. So... I got up, grabbed the things I had left there, wrote a letter, left the ring... and I ran."

The team was silent after that.

But Emily didn't see any judgment. It was just a lot of processing. Attempting to understand the timeline that Emily had just given them.

Spencer was the first to move, going to flip through the book pages quickly.

Morgan was the first one to actually speak up.

"You still think about them," he asked.

"Sometimes," Emily nodded. "I doubt the feeling's mutual."

"You're wrong," Spencer said.

"Oh, thanks, Reid," Emily chuckled.

Spencer held out the book to Emily. He was right, she had been wrong about the feeling not being mutual.

In front of her was the last poem in the book.

A simple title.

For Emily.

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

Author's Note: This song always sounded like opening up to a close friend about something at like two in the morning at a sleepover. That's why it was written like this instead of having flashbacks to these moments.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[not-that-syndrigast]

I’ve spent a bit too long on this for all my favorite little details to get overlooked and at heart i’m a writer, not a poet so here’s my explanation, thoughts and choices;

“Netflix’s drive to survive; what happened between Esteban and Pierre?”

It’s a heading and thus the obvious perfect start, but there is more behind it; DTS is known to be overdramatic and make everything more emotional than it actually is and even faking things, i chose this heading as a small nod to myself; i don't mean harm but what i do isn’t particularly better, i also interpret emotions and make things more dramatic to get people to listen. The rest of the title is fairly tame though, no catchphrase or anything because in the end it was a perfect start to the story, even if it’s dramatic i tried not to paint anyone in a bad light or anything.

“From the ages of six to 10 they spent all their time together karting, with them both describing their relationship as "very close"”

It’s the start of the story, an introduction of sorts, followed by two pictures of them in that exact time frame to set the mood but it’s already showing very clearly that their friendship is based all around racing, racing being the thing that ultimately brings them together.

“You were so magnetic it was almost obnoxious/Flush with the currency of cool”

I guess most people would interpret this as clearly Esteban about Pierre, but I thought it from both of their points of view. Obviously Pierre is the more outspoken one, always posting and just generally more in the spotlight and also being very good in karting and earlier formulas, but people underrate the fact that Esteban is just as cool, debuting in Formula 1 a year earlier and obviously having his own wins and accomplishments. I just thought about their mutual racing friends, roughly 2016, when Esteban debuted in Formula 1, this huge dream, something they all wanted to reach and Esteban, who's younger than Pierre actually did it. He was probably the coolest among this group of people. The pictures are a reminder how long they actually know each other, it's a bit of a joke because these pictures are everything but cool but i still adore them so much, it's just incredibly sweet.

“Esteban Ocon, 27, and Pierre Gasly, 28, grew up together as friends in Normandy, France, living just 20 minutes away from each other.”

A slight nod to the comment made previously, about Esteban being younger, but also a nod to the fact that they grew up close together in Normandy, which becomes important with the following lines;

“I didn't come here to make friends/We were born to be suburban legends”

Lets focus on the second part first; i wanted to draw this line between normandy, their home and them becoming legends. It's their destiny, two french drivers, both from the same karting tracks making their mark on formula 1. But I had a second thought, suburban legends in a much more metaphorical sense. They are “only” suburban legends, “only” legends of their karting track. I tried to keep him out of the pictures to not lose focus, but I need to bring him here for the explanation; Charles Leclerc. He is already a worldwide legend, first official Formula 1 driver to win the Monaco grand prix and a bunch of ferrari things i don't care to remember. Point is; they are only suburban legends, this will become painful im sorry guys, i fear both of them are well aware that different than Charles they are losing their chance at a championship, they will not be worldwide legends like Charles or other world champions, but there's something painfully sweet in that, which brings me back to the first part.

The first part is the only part that I decided to interpret from only Esteban's perspective; Esteban whose parents sold their house to support his dream, Esteban who even today puts friends second when it comes to winning. There is a certain type of pressure on you as a child if you have to care too much about money which makes it even more painful to have Pierre on the other side; Pierre who only started karting because of friends. For the pictures I chose a picture of Pierre and Esteban, not in racing gear because in the end Esteban did make friends. The second picture is from them as children, Esteban winning with Pierre on the second step. I thought it was a great picture showing that Esteban did put everything about friendship. I do question though, does he regret it? Maybe he would have been able to be more than just a suburban legend if he had chosen his friends more often and had not done everything to win. 

“Never wanted love/just a fancy car”

It's the same, in the end. I don't remember them ever talking about it, but I remember seeing other drivers talk about not having friends and missing out on such things because they had to focus too much on driving, it's really just a repeat of the thoughts above. The second part is just too fitting which is why I chose a picture of them together in alpine gear. They got their fancy car, but they also got this love (yes guys, i do believe every friendship holds a certain kind of love). In the end they got both, but it's not how they imagined and im asking again, do either of them regret choosing the fancy car over love?

“Pierre said about Esteban, "I know Esteban I know him like a younger brother. The only thing with Esteban there are a lot of problems and tensions. We both know we'll never be best friends."”

In itself, this isn't interesting, but in mix with the second part i wanted to talk about a few things

“I've had some tricks up my sleeve/Takes one to know one/You're a cowboy like me”

The thing is, the quote by Pierre seems almost mean but i'm not judging. They are both like that, in different ways. Esteban is aggressive on track, fighting Pierre, Pierre is aggressive to the media, fighting Esteban with words. In the end i think they are both fighters, a bit of mindplayers like all Formula 1 drivers. Even if it doesn't seem like it, they are the same. The picture following is of them as kids, because they are so similar, they know exactly how to fight each other because they know each other so well, for so long. 

“Gasly says he knew pairing with Ocon ‘would not be easy’”

Again the same as above, Pierre uses the media as his weapon. 

“And I've never felt more alone/It feels so scary getting old”

I wanted to portray the break between them as children and as adults, they know each other almost too well. All celebrities said it before, being famous makes you lonely but I would assume it's even worse when you know you wouldn't have to be because there is someone you could trust. Also, getting older is generally a scary thing, we all know it, but i invite you all to put yourself in their shoes. With every season they know they get further away from their chance of a championship, closer to retirement. Even worse, they have to fear for friends. Especially Esteban this season, with the possibility of not getting a seat anymore, it's scary. Thus I chose two pictures of them, very similar, one of them as children and one now. They are sitting similarly, laughing, but you can clearly see the difference in their attitude.

“You’re the only friend i need/(you’re the only friend i need)”

Some people might think this to be contradictory, so here is the explanation; Pierre said they would never be best friends, but for me, there is a clear difference between friends and best friends and if you've known each other for that long you are bound to be friends in some way. We also need to keep in mind that all the articles are a bit of bullshit and overdramatized to get more reads, which is why I chose two pictures of them not racing, clearly being friendly with each other. They will never be able to be best friends in racing, it's just not possible with their own difficulties in life, but they can be friends outside of it all, which makes the whole thing round. They were friends before Pierre tried karting, it bound and ripped them apart and bound them again but it's outside of driving again where they are friends.

“You’re a bandit like me/eyes full of stars”

Cowboy like me fits them so well, I'll use more lines in the future, but I decided to close with this because it remains the hopeful attitude I tried to build with the last pictures but also captures the whole story so well, from their similarities to their shared dream and the dream that will go on.

I hope this made a bit more sense and I would love to hear more thoughts on this. If this gets any notes I'll make another one because I had so much fun :)

Pierre Gasly + Esteban Ocon throughout the years

Netflix's Drive To Survive: What happened between Esteban and Pierre? // suburban legends (taylor swift) // cowboy like me (taylor swift) // Gasly says he knew pairing with Ocon ‘would not be easy’ // ribs (lorde)

@atlaswilleatyourknees

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

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Sugar daddy fic (Some tags didn't work)

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[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

The One Where Jensen Ackles Confirmed Cockles in 2016(????) No. Seriously. For real.

this is a DOOZY. strap in folks.

DISCLAIMER: this is chock full of rps. if you are against cockles/jenmish in any way, this post is not for you. however, if you’re like me, ummmmm...

alright. so. we are REALLY in it now, cockles truthers. and make no mistake, i DO NOT want to undersell the significance of what we have found on this glorious day in 2021.

BUT HEY! DISCLAIMER FIRST, THOUGH IT SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING! do not EVER bring this to jensen and misha’s attention. do not comment disrespectful things on social media. when cons/panels start again, don’t ask them questions about it. ever!!! that’s super weird, for one thing, and for two, they won’t give you the answer you want anyway! so, yeah. just be decent, y’all. let’s continue. 

so my dear mutual @green-blue-heller made this post today and i promptly lost my mind. in it, they link this video:

as far as i can tell, it’s from VegasCon 2016 but was only unprivated on january 24, 2020(dean winchester’s birthday??? wow ok) for some reason, and we have overlooked it until now. to whoever it was that posted it, THANK you for my reason for being and this delayed gratification five years later. anyway, let’s get into it.

right off the bat, those expressions in the thumbnail kind of tell you all you need to know about what we’re venturing into. i have to thank BOTH jensen AND j*red for being ridiculously transparent. i mean...j*red purposefully avoiding eye contact with jensen and looking at the ceiling with his eyebrows raised sky high? jensen hiding his face in his hands, smiling and blushing like a fool, the misha face™ & grin???

so let’s break down what happens with timestamps and everything.

so! i looked up what the question was, i scoured through the entire Vegas Con video, and here it is:

‘My question is for Jensen and Jared. You guys are both happily married, and I noticed that many people had a hard time explaining how they know their significant other is the one. The one they want to spend the rest of their life with, the one that they want to be with, and so, I wanted to ask you guys, how did you know that your current- who you’re with now(audience laughter cuts the rest of the question off and it’s unintelligible)’ ….i’m solidly guessing that the end of that question boils down to ‘was the one’. (....i...uhhhh....have some thoughts on how this question affected jensen, and i will be going into them later.)

Jared: *laughs* Jared, Jensen. When did you first meet your future ex-wives?

*both of them laugh*

Jared: I’m just kidding-I get what you’re trying to say and thank you, um...I, uh, I guess my current wife, uh-

*both laugh again*

Jensen: (sarcastically) Let’s start with her.

Jared: (repeats) Let’s start with her. I, uh, I...you said something kinda, uh, amazing in your question, which is that a lot of people have a tough time or a difficult time explaining to their significant others or to themselves what it is. And I guess I feel that I have no way to possibly explain it to myself or to her... I remember that I had been in a relationship and that I was single and I was like ‘I am not interested in getting in a relationship’ and then she and I went on a date and I was like, ‘I can’t go anywhere else. I’m not interested.’ So, that was kinda what, um, what started it for me *clears throat loudly* Uh. Yeah, I just feel like (searching for words) she makes me a better person-there are a lot of people that make you a better person, and so that’s not enough, I don’t think-or maybe it is, who knows-um...I don’t know, I can’t really...if I could explain, I’d be a poet.

here’s where things start to get interesting. before jared says ‘If I could explain, I’d be a poet,’ Jensen’s face looks like this:

stoic, thoughtful, composed. and then AFTER jared says that his face makes THIS little journey:

go watch it for yourself. this man is ridiculous. in terms of body language? he gazes up and AWAY from jared. it is a private thought, he is not sharing in jared’s joke with him, if at all. it is his own personal musings that make his face LIGHT up like that. this fool looks lovestruck!!! this fool is lovestruck!!!

now, i think it goes without saying, but there is an obvious cockles reason that springs to mind for this reaction. (hint: misha is a poet. that’s it, that’s the reason.) i don’t think jared intentionally said this with misha in mind, but jensen’s thoughts IMMEDIATELY went there. whether or not this is because he was already planning on answering and hinting at his relationship with misha before jared says this, which i think he was-you can certainly see the wheels turning in jensen’s head before this moment-his brain involuntarily makes the connection and it shows in his glowing smile. after that remark...jensen’s gone. he’s whipped. and he HAS to say something about it. 

continuing from where we left off:

Jared: ...and I would love to be a poet. (thought it would be fun to mention that at this point Jensen catches what his face did and immediately looks over to Jared and WIPES the expression of his face...but it’s too late, because someone recorded it, i saw it, and now i’m writing about it five years later)

Jared: But uhh…

Jensen: (interrupting) Just tap me when you want me to take over. 

i think that jensen is simultaneously joking and is also more than ready to say what he’s been composing in his head diligently for the last thirty or so seconds. he has made up his mind, and is now ready to drop the bomb on us.

*audience laughs, Jared playfully swats at him*

Jared: Uh… *thinks in silence for a bit* It’s really difficult, it’s really difficult. She makes me feel safe, she makes me feel loved. Uh...when...I’m in a position where I don’t love myself, I know she loves me, you know, um...she’s just an awesome, awesome lady.

*audience claps*

alright! so in terms of my OWN analysis for what’s happened up until this point, the conclusion i have come to is that there was something in the question that was asked that sets jensen’s mind off about misha, and i think it was the ‘the one’ comment. if we’re putting our cockles goggles on, jensen doesn’t HAVE a ‘the one’. he resents thinking like that. i’m also very intuitive, and i get a sense that jensen is an honest person and can’t really tell a convincing lie. i mean...we all saw that horrible airbnb debacle, right? and his slip up when he accidentally confirms that misha woke up and said ‘i miss (maison)’[which how would you know that unless you were...nvm] and became a stammering mess and had to sit down and cover his face. and that misha is always the one to take the lead when it comes to denying clothes sharing, for instance. jensen has never ONCE attempted to explain that away, because i don’t think anyone would believe him, and i think he’s incapable of doing so because he’s not a dishonest person and can’t lie easily. i’m the same way, so to avoid telling a lie i always speak partial truths, and i’m 99% sure jensen is well versed in this talent as well. oh, also, just to really land my point....we all know how he feels about the finale because he can’t make himself speak well on it. he’ll gush about 15x18 and the PEOPLE BEHIND the finale, but he has not uttered one. positive. word. about the actual finale itself. i mean, we all know what he thinks about it. in his own way, he has made his rage glaringly obvious. and i think he’s doing that exact thing here, where he resents the implication that daneel is the only ‘one’ for him, because that’s simply not true, and he can’t and won’t lie about something like that. 

i watched it back again and wrote notes on jensen’s body language as he’s processing the question. here they are:

from 0:13 to 1:21, jensen: 

looks down - tenses face - searching eyes, lost in thought - jared’s comment brings him out of it but it takes a second - fidgets, adjusts clothes, looks at jared - bites the inside of his cheeks and moves tongue around his mouth(pacifying gesture) - eyes start wandering away from jared, looks down and tenses face, looks back at jared - then looks away, eyes and mind far from the panel and pondering the question itself - somewhat wistful expression, gears clearly turning in his head, lips pursed, stops reacting to what jared is saying, fingers start fidgeting, eyes have moved downward as he is lost in thought - something shifts in his brain, he looks to the ceiling, fidgets and adjusts his clothing, squints and seems to resolve an inner thought - slightly comes back down to earth with newfound resolution - and then jared’s ‘i would be a poet’ comment happens while he’s coming down from that

i mean, this obviously doesn’t necessarily mean anything huge(yet), all it shows is that this question took a lot of thinking for him. when you compare it to how jared kind of just dove in? 

anyway; so then jared’s done, he slaps jensen’s thigh to indicate it’s his turn, jensen makes THAT face you see in the thumbnail, jared’s eyebrows raise, jensen looks down and scratches his forehead, and then makes the statement of a lifetime. 

here’s the link for this next part

Jensen: Ummm..I kind of feel like there’s two types of people ..uh..in regards to marriage and the, the one. Uh, it’s the ones that just, just know with an absolute and, and have a certainty of like, this is the one for me, unequivocally. And then there’s those who are, you know, I don’t know, I’m scared, but I’m willing to take that leap of faith with you. And, I kind of find myself in between both of those(...types of people). And uh, and so, it can be a scary endeavour, and it can, and it will certainly have it’s ups and downs, um, but I think it’s a, uh, it’s a bond, and it’s a connection, and it’s a friendship, and it’s a ride, and it’s a journey that, uh, if you’re willing to stick it out with one another, can be an amazing, beautiful thing and I’m glad that I picked the partner and the teammate that I have, so.

i’ll give you like a second to recuperate before we dig in. 

let’s start with both jared and jensen’s body language first, because it wasn’t even the words that clued me in, it was whatever the hell was going on with jared’s face. 

i really wish i could gif, but i can only attempt to convey the SPEED and VIGOUR with which jared snaps his head toward jensen. 

these pictures are objectively hilarious because you can see the entire mental journey that jared goes on. he was aloof and kind of relaxed because he was done, it’s jensen’s turn now, he’s surely not gonna out himself with this question right? and then jensen goes ahead and says ‘there are two-’ and jared instantly zones right into jensen with a look of horror on his face, that he tries to contain, but does so unsuccessfully. that is the face of a man who is internally freaking out, thought to himself ‘did he seriously just say...’ and is kind of staring at the culprit in shock and awe.

i know that’s what’s happening, because this is not the first time we’ve seen him react like this to something jensen has said. the classic head whip. a few examples, just off the top of my head:

1. ‘he has, hasn’t he?’ 

2. ‘he sounds like that in the morning’ ‘how do you know’ 

3. when he whips his head around when he notices jensen’s face(and instantly understands when he realizes it’s misha)

so yeah, i’m sure you get it by now. jared can’t really keep it off of his face. there’s no real analyzing to be done here...it’s just an obvious tell on his part. there’s no real reason for him to have reacted this way if jensen was saying something inconspicuous, is there? he would have continued to just kind of space out if jensen hadn’t just said something jarringly questionable. 

as for jensen’s body language, i can’t really tell where he’s looking from either angle of both videos i’ve seen. sometimes it seems like he’s looking straight at jared, and maybe nods at him once, but he could also(and is most likely) looking at the fan who asked the question. i don’t think there’s anything particularly telling about his body language because i think he rehearsed his answer in his head and also, he’s not shying away because he’s not lying about anything. like...everything he’s saying is true, so he’s not going to have any tells. and it’s the fact that he is TELLING THE TRUTH that is freaking jared out.

now for what he actually says. because oh my god. 

right off the bat, he says “i kind of feel like there’s two types of people..” and first off, what? what does that even mean? if you think of it in terms of ‘this is about daneel and only daneel’....isn’t this a realllyyyyy strange thing to start out with? objectively? the question that was asked to him was ‘how did you know they were the one?’ and he goes ‘actually there’s TWO types of people’ ...like, jensen never answers the question at hand. 

and then he goes “in regards to marriage and the one”. i hope i’m not the only one who noticed he said the words ‘the one’ in a resentful and kind of degrading tone? seriously, listen to it again. he seems like he’s almost mocking that sentiment. i swear i’m not making it up, it really sounds like that to me. 

and then he says “-it’s the ones that just, just know with an absolute and, and have a certainty of like, this is the one for me, unequivocally. And then there’s those who are, you know, I don’t know, I’m scared, but I’m willing to take that leap of faith with you.” *NON TINHAT VERSION OF EVENTS* what he could mean, i guess, is he was both scared to be with daneel but also knew she was the one for him. which....ok. alright. *TINHAT BACK ON* first off, there’s absolutely no risk with daneel. that’s not a judgement, because i love her; it’s just true. she’s a pretty, talented, amazing woman and they are very much in love. i’m not sure what risks he’s taking there. next up: pretty strange wording then, don’t you think? idk, if it were you, and you wanted to get that point across, wouldn’t you use words like ‘she both scared me and i knew i wanted to be with her at the same time’ and NOT this convoluted mess of ‘there’s two types of people and they are both drastically different but also one and the same’? 

SECOND OF ALL, as many people have pointed out.....he never uses pronouns. this is strange. jared does. jared says gen’s name, even. and uses ‘she’ and ‘her’. jensen never once does that, he practically refuses to do so. and yes, i fully believe it is entirely intentional.

because if you look at this phrase from a cockles lens it makes more sense then if you do not. 

the one that jensen knows, unequivocally, with the utmost certainty, is the one for him, no doubts, no risks; is daneel. the one that he doesn’t know about, is scared of being with, but is willing to take that leap of faith anyway; is misha. and all of a sudden the puzzle pieces fall into place.

because he goes on to say “I kind of find myself in between both of those.” 

he doesn’t say ‘i find myself in between both of those...with her.’ nope. he’s just...in between. caught in the middle. of those two types of people. translation: of those two people. mish. dee. 

“And it can be a scary endeavour, and it will certainly have it’s ups and downs, but I think it’s a bond, and it’s a connection, and it’s a friendship, and it’s a ride, and it’s a journey...” 

every single one of those words can be applied to more than one person. think about it. bond(between three people). connection(between three people). friendship(between three people!!!). there’s no ‘partnership’ in here, which does only apply to two people. 

lastly, “i’m glad i picked the partner and the teammate that i have.”

ok, look. you can easily say that it’s just one person he’s talking about here! of course you can. but this is jensen ackles we’re talking about. jensen ‘rock and pebble’ ackles. jensen ‘mish. dee.’ ackles. so yes. i definitely think that ‘the partner and the teammate’ fall into this category. and i think daneel is the partner and misha is the teammate. 

to put it matter-of-factly: you simply cannot prove that this isn’t about a poly relationship. there is absolutely nothing he says that makes it obvious he is talking about one person here. because he isn’t. 

i just feel like, in the simplest terms, if this were about only daneel, that he would not be using these weird phrases that are half-hidden truths. just to compare, i watched another panel where pretty much the exact same question was asked, minus the whole ‘the one’ debacle, and, just as i suspected, it was an entirely different answer. he talks about the moment where he knew he liked her. her, specifically. says the name daneel. gushes about her. there’s no tiptoeing and weird pronoun usage and vague terminology. 

tl; dr : i think he answered the question this way because there is no ‘the one’ in his life. and he is physically incapable of leaving misha out when talking about ‘the one’ because he has TWO ‘the ones’. and he wants to answer the question to the best of his best ability, but lying is unnatural to him. he will talk about daneel at length and misha at length, but i honestly to my core don’t think you could make him choose between the two. oh! and we literally had confirmation all the way back in fucking 2016, we just never paid attention until now. so......thanks, jensen?

sorry, this got super long, but i hope i warned you well enough. 

[teddyduchampsglasses]

@duxpuella

Same as the last one, quick PSA, I know I usually keep these gender neutral but I’ve decided for this ask to be fem so I hope that doesn’t offend anyone. And if it does, I’m sorry and feel free to send in an ask asking for a gender neutral version of this if you’d like, because I’d be glad to write one, or you could change the pronouns to your preferred ones as you’re reading. What ever works best for you :)

Also this isn’t my best work so yeah, sorry about that lmao.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time Meeks ever laid his eyes on you, his whole world seemed to stop. You quite literally rendered him speechless, from the way you walked, talked, the way your hair flowed and more. You were absolutely show stopping in his eyes and he immediately knew that he wanted you.

When he finally got the nerves to ask you out, his worst nightmare came true. You felt really bad but in your mind, a relationship between the two of you would go south, and you didn’t want to end up hurting him. You did think he was cute, smart and kinda funny. And you did go to your dorm and day dream about the ginger a lot, but you didn’t want to waste your time on a relationship that was destined to fail. Or so you thought it would. But Mr. Meeks ended up suggesting that you to just give it a try, and you reluctantly agreed. “Just a week, and we’ll work things out then.” “Yeah, deal.” Yeah, you guys’ relationship ended up lasting more than just a week, that’s for sure. And you will never regret giving Steven Meeks a chance.

Steven usually went for the more nerdy and passive type. Quiet and sweet girls. But you were totally different. You were strong and totally a fighter. So when he started chasing after you, it not only surprised him, all the dead poets but you too. He just seemed to surprise everyone.

Meeks honestly only had one, logical guess and explanation as to why he fell for you the way that he did. Because he liked being told what to do, being put in his place and bossed around. That may sound weird but, hear me out, why else would he close the door the way he did after Charlie demanded it of him?

Easy, because he loved a women that was in charge, took a stand and held some sort of power. He liked having a confident and strong girlfriend. So, what I’m trying to say is, boss him around a little? Don’t worry, he enjoys it.

Meeks is one of the only people who knows how to accurately and sufficiently calm you down. And he’s one of the only people who actually succeeds at it. Your mad at one of the poets? Someone get Meeks. Blew a fuse with a stranger? Quick, someone find Steven. Many teachers have even started calling poor Stevie into their classes when you get into one of your “moods”. “Do you want me to play with your hair while we cuddle?” “I don’t want to cuddle at all.” “Sure you do, come on.” He would say before dragging you away. And once you two returned to the real world, it was like you were a whole new person.

You don’t often get mad at him. He never does anything to upset or annoy you, and he’s actually very gental with you. Pitts could piss you off, but five minutes later, Meeks could do the same exact thing Gerard had done and you wouldn’t feel a thing. He’s the only person who listens when you’re upset or angry, he understands that you’re just feeling a lot of emotions in that moment. And all anyone wants is someone who will understand and listen. So on the rare occasions that you do get mad at him, you automatically feel horrible, apologizing one million times, because he most likely didn’t do anything wrong. Meeks is just way too perfect, he’s always way too understanding, sometimes to the point where you just wished he would get mad at you. It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not, it’s always a worry of yours that “What if he actually is upset or hurt and just he won’t admit it.”

Meeks often tutors you, or the two of you work together, and you get easily frustrated or mad with your work. Usually, he attempts to help you continue working, using sweet, nice and encouraging words to calm you down, but if that doesn’t work, he just lets you go on a long rampage, letting out all your steam, before he pulls you into a nice, comforting hug.

When ever you blow a fuse with someone, especially if it’s someone you don’t really know, or someone you don’t know at all, Meeks is always the one to discretely apologize on your end. If you yell at someone on the streets, he’ll always quietly whisper “Sorry.” As the two of you walk past.

Meeks is a very calming person to be around, and you’re so happy that he’s your boyfriend for that reason. You often need someone to calm or relax you, and some how, everything about Steven just does that for you. The way he smells, his soft hair, his nice hugs. Everything. He’s just an all around soothing person. And with a personality like yours, you need someone in your life like that. Someone who’s always gonna be there to calm you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For some odd reason, this one was a lot more complicated to write then the Charlie one, but I still hope you like it.

[thornpuck]

Neopets.

SO I've been playing neopets again for about a month now. I have found some interesting things: 1, the community is small and tight knit. It feels akin to a medium sized discord, with people getting to know each other on the "neoboards". It's such a nice group of people and I have immediately felt welcomed by them all. 2, this community is hella queer. In ye old days mentioning sexuality was a no go, but they have relaxed the rules, and people now openly talk about all things gay. It's hard to estimate exact populations, but I'm seeing a LOT of gay, trans/nonbinary etc folks. 3, moderation is lackluster at best, and people are able to talk about all manner of things that weren't allowed in the past. But it's still technically not allowed, so people will try and skirt around being too explicit, but that's honestly funnier/more fun. 4, the community, from what I can gather, is 100 percent against NFTs and the new meta stuff. 5, you can control the market of some items because the community is so much smaller I single handedly tanked the price of Poets Hats take that everyone. 6, customization. You can now dress your neopets up, which means, they all have similar poses with one hand raised in the air for holding items. I left about when this happened, and I didn't think it would take off, but it has. But it does mean unconverted pets are desirable. 7, unconverted trading makes up a huge bulk of people's activity on the site. This probably deserves a thread in itself, and I think there's actually a youtube doc somewhere out there that explains it all anyway. 8, there's a lot of gambling on this site. Like, holy moley. Don't get me wrong, I flippin love it aha but young me didn't realize just how much there was. 9, all the flash games are dead except for like, 10 that converted to HTML5. 10, there is an influx of new users, like me, who have found that they are pining for something more nostalgic in their internet experience and are flocking back to it. I'm not sure how many people are gonna turn up, but people who've been around longer say there's been a few. I think that's about it. AMA about neopets I guess. I'm still a "newbie" and the site has changed so much. Also I'm sorry to everyone reading this, but yes, your neopets are dead. Every now and again, they do a "purge" and delete inactive accounts. I'm sorry.

[rarephloxes]

@lucienvanserraweek, free day!

I’m so happy to announce that this is a collab with my dear friend @ratabrasileira!!! Go show the beautiful drawing she did some love!!

rating: G

words: 2.2k

Elain searches the woods for flowers and finds more than she ever expected. Sleeping Beauty Au

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Elain left the cottage barefooted, the soft cushion of the grass comfortable and well known to her feet. The familiar and gratifying feeling of calm earth beneath her, steady and grounding, more than enough reason to forego any sort of shoes.

Roses, Feyre had chanted, the dreamy look in her sister’s eyes persisting ever since her chance encounter with a newcomer guard at the town square, the prettiest ones you can find, please?

Elain had not the courage to tell her younger sister that she had picked fresh flowers just the day before, funny-shaped pink blooms Elain found at the lip of the stream near the border.

So, she had picked her basket - the one Nesta had gifted her on her last birthday, handmade by her older sister herself; a beautiful, intricate thing done with the hard-earned love of the hardest Archeron - and left, a spring to her step and a tune brimming in her throat.

The woods, the townspeople said, were older than the village by unaccounted years, and therefore filled with deep, wondrous and dangerous magic.

Elain, as well as her sisters, was orphaned too soon. A wasting sickness that had scourged their village had taken away both of her parents, one after the other, leaving only a nearly of age Nesta, a doe-eyed Elain, and a tear-stained Feyre.

Many years had passed since, the nebulous, all-consuming pain of the absence of their parents soothed by time. Despite her grieving, it never escaped Elain’s thoughts how lucky she was to have such wonderful people in her life: her kind neighbors; the quaint, energized people of the village, who never missed a chance for celebration; the old grouch at the square who made wooden figures just as her father once had; Feyre’s laugh, her creativity and Nesta’s attentive strength.

The woods, magical and mysterious, were a source of peace in Elain’s little life, too. A balm made of soft sunlight, fresh, perfumed breeze, and the singing quietness of wildlife.

She walked, shawl hanging on her elbows to ward off the slightest of spring chills. Elain sang to her heart’s content, a lively lyric dancing on her tongue and bouncing on the leaves of the tallest of trees, her heart soaring with each note she presented to her loved woodland.

With Feyre’s wishes in mind, Elain followed a path towards a grove, the humidity at her destination perfect for the birth of deep pink roses which best complimented Feyre’s complexion.

She crossed the sturdy old bridge that allowed passage over the river, her cottage’s mill no longer audible from where she stood.

“Hello, Mister,” Elain greeted the white, wild bunny, its twitching mustache smelling the air twice before hurrying on fast jumps towards her, a cupped palm of berries awaiting the animal’s eager mouth, allowing her to scratch its head “You’re rather famished this morning, aren’t you?” she asked. The bunny agreed with what seemed like and affirmative ear twitch before her furry friend scampered away to a nearby bush.

Then, singing about poets and kings, Elain continued her path through the meandering trees, her basket filling with dark, juicy berries - a few of them already staining her lips red - and multicolored flowers.

A bold, red little bird landed on Elain’s extended finger and enchantingly sung with her. Its melodic chirping lacing and harmonizing to the girl’s sweet voice, their impromptu duet accompanied by the rustling leaves and the gurgling stream.

How wonderful Elain felt, surrounded by nature, connecting to the air around her as if it had birthed her itself, offering it her voice. Respectfully reaping the charming flora, she found on her way, breathing their scent, befriending the forest animals, and spinning on the tip of her toes on the soft soil.

As she stopped dancing, her skirts still swishing around her calves from the last of her twirls, Elain noticed a magnificent shrub of the blooms she had braved the woods for, jewel-bright pink petals shining under sunbeams, as if the tress had organized themselves to create a spot of light for such earthly beauty.

Right then, the strangest of things happened.

With her heart jumping to her throat, beating frenetically against her ribs, Elain noticed a beautiful horse. Saddled, with a gleaming chestnut coat, dark eyes downcast, calmly munching on the grass near its hooves.

It wasn’t unheard of, horses in the woods, wild or otherwise, they were not far from the main road, but that was not what made Elain’s skin prickle with alertness.

A well-taken care horse as such must have a rider nearby.

“Samson,” called a male voice “There’s not much left to go.” The horse shuffled his legs, huffing before turning its nose away, back onto the moss.

“There will be carrots,” the voice tried again, with a tone of simulated indifference.

Caught like a fish on a hook, the horse’s great neck snapped up, looking at its rider, as if expecting the vegetable all at once. Stoic as the pair of them seemed, Elain had the impression Samson was kindly spoiled.

Elain, who could hear the rich sound of the stranger’s voice, had not yet distinguished his form in the shade beyond the grove she entered, but following the stallion’s gaze she finally sighted him.

Oh, but what a beautiful man he was.

Stranger was tall and broad-shouldered, with an old, silvery scar marking the side of his face, slitting his brow and narrowly missing his eye - which seemed to be a disconcerting shade of brown. He had the most vibrant shade of red hair she has ever seen, dark like autumn leaves and silky like water.

He was the most beautiful human she has ever seen.

Stranger, however, had yet to notice her.

And as handsome as he was, Elain was clever enough to realize that a quick, silent escape was the safest option.

Slowly, she walked one step back.

The crunch of the branch beneath her foot echoed loudly, too loudly to be confounded by an innocuous wildlife sound.

Elain couldn't raise her eyes to look at him, attention glued to the sword holstered at his hip.

“Be not afraid, lady. I’ll take my leave in a moment,” Stranger said in a placating tone, palms deliberately upraised for her benefit.

The woods turned to music at the exact moment their eyes met.

A world-altering spark of recognition lighted in her mind.

A stranger in the woods, merry music, dancing fireflies, and singing birds, trees being led by the wind as if women in a ballroom, her vision spinning, and her body lighting up like fireworks. A hand on her waist, a choreography her body must have been made for performing, such ease it was to allow it to guide her away.

Dreams, she remembered, wonderful dreams which always kept her under her covers for a moment too long, always ending way too soon, leaving longing as a dent in her pillow.

Now he was right in front of her.

“I know you,” she whispered, words slipping through her lips like birds escaping a cage, her hands shaking.

He was dressed in well-made traveling clothes, dark pants, finely done knee-length boots she had only ever glanced upon whenever wealthier people crossed the town to check on their local businesses, but those deftly dressed gentlemen couldn’t have looked better than the man even with the priciest of fineries. Elain resisted the urge to press her hands to her cheeks, heated and pink from noticing Stranger only wore a thin, unruffled poet’s shirt, - his cape and hat using the nearby trees as hangers - its open laces revealing golden skin and wisps of red hair.

Elain had never felt self-conscious of her looks or clothes, the townspeople dressing similarly to her (even if Elain herself had one of the best sewing hands in their village). Her current outfit was a simple corset with boning made out of prepped hedgehog spikes, the plain fabric embellished with neat seams and picturesque figures Elain had stitched herself; a brown, light skirt - easy to wash and easier to hide soil stains - and, what now she deemed absurd due to the grime on her nails, no slippers.

“And I, you,” he answered as in a daze, hands falling limply at his sides.

“Do you hear it?” Elain made her voice firm, lifting he chin but with her knees slightly bent, ready to run.

“Yes, my lady,” he took a step, then two, until a stretch of his arm would land his hand on her shoulder.

But he didn’t move to touch her.

Elain swallowed, the breeze cooling her body, eyes downcast, legs now motionless and nearly failing her.

“Why won’t you let me see your eyes, my lady?” She couldn’t be sure, for she knew him not, but there was pleading in his tone.

“I’m afraid, my lord, that if I look at you, I’ll awake and leave this dream,” she whispered, surprised, but not fearful, of her words. “And you’ll fly away from my grasp,”

Suddenly shy of her newly found boldness, she turned her back to him.

“I’m-" She started, voice small.

“No, please.” Elain saw a shadow over her shoulder but wouldn’t dare to guess. “Forgive me for my requests, my lady, you need not give me anything, I-”

He sounded... embarrassed.

She found it endearing.

The song of the woods shifted to a village rhythm she knew well.

“Dance with me,” he called.

A gasp fell freely from her mouth, the ghost of a touch on her hand.

Slowly, she turned back to face him and realized her mistake.

His eyes were not brown, but a vibrant russet shade, complimenting his hair better. Elain had heard only the continent bred humans with the most varied and colorful bodies.

“I forgive you,” she mouthed, her throat no longer functional.

There were callouses on his palms if from holding reins or sword fighting, she couldn’t determine, but they were so gentle against her skin she barely put any mind to it.

A blast of sound surrounded them, as if the song recognized their meeting, rejoicing in their movements, magnifying their volume to ensconce the pair of them in a cloud of magic. Elain allowed her stranger to spin and lead her in the dance of her dreams.

She couldn’t help to laugh and smile and giggle as they swayed in impossibly rehearsed arrangements, his wide, carefree, delighted grin pouring sunshine into her chest.

Time turned to a growing bloom, following the natural, slow, unpreoccupied pace of life. A hundred dances thrummed with them while the small pointer of the square clock circled once.

At that time, the resounding, deep clang of the church’s bell chiming twelve times broke through the magic steering the couple.

Elain ceased her steps, the pang of reality downing on her face, awareness washing the enchanted fog in her mind.

She let go of Stranger’s hand, the melodies dimming to a quiet hum, tempting her as a distance siren song,

“I must go,” she told him, yet unable to move.

“So soon?” he asked earnestly, arms lovingly tightening around her waist, not caging, only a gentle embrace.

“Oh, please, I must have my leave. Your lordship certainly has somewhere to be. I don’t even know what to call you-“ she babbled in a rush.

Stranger pressed his nose to the sliver of skin above her neck line, as if he couldn’t help himself, as if she were a saint and he a devotee. Elain lost the breath in her lungs, head lulling back, her words cutting themselves short.

“It’s yours,” his lips brushed the slope of her neck, “My name, my heart, my soul. It’s all yours. I’m Luc-“

Hurriedly, Elain lifted his head and pressed her pointer and middle finger to his mouth, “You must not tell me your name,”

“I heard your voice,” he admitted, a portrait of hope in his face, gently grasping her wrist “I deviated from the road to look for the angel whose song I was lucky to listen. But the singing stopped, as it was never there in the first place,”

“The woods have a mind of their own” she whispered to herself, eyes roaming around as if searching.

“I found you once I let Samson rest for a moment,” he continued, uninterrupted, as though afraid she would vanish in a poof of light.

“Please, my lady. Can’t you see? One is never to deny a gift from the Gods,”

“Are you a believer, Stranger?”

“Now, I am,” he said, his gaze unfaltering, “Will you allow me to reveal my name to your Ladyship?”

“I’m no lady,” she said, taking her hand from the warmth of his, regretting it immediately, “I must have my leave,” How would she explain her tardiness to Nesta? Oh, how reckless she was acting.

“At least allow me to take you to your home, my lady,”

Elain knew deep in her gut as clearly as she knew the color of the sky and the name of her favorite flowers that he would never hurt her.

But her oldest sister warning echoed in her conscience, coiling its limbs around her, refraining her voice.

The universe, it seemed, understood her decision.

Samson let out a loud neigh, attracting her love’s attention for just long enough.

“I’ll see you in my dreams,” she promised as he turned around to watch his horse.

And ran away, deep into the woods.

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Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments make my day.

Special thanks to @moononastring and @silvergriff for hosting this awesome event, @separatist-apologist for being the kindest and most considerate beta reader I could ever hope for.

I’m building a tag list! If you want to keep up with my writing, let me know :))

I may or may not continue this? I really want to mesh this with a bunch of other ideas I have on my notes!!