#this is just a little note for those that use my tumblr account to stay up to date with cycles of love

[iridiss]

At some point I’d like to add some more scenes/rewritten pieces to earlier chapters to my MCD rewrite fic expanding a bit more in detail on Garroth, Laurance, and Aphmau’s relationship. Now that we’re breaking into the final half of season 1, I feel like I missed more than I should in developing their relationships and expanding upon them in more detail, so at some point I need to like. study and break down their canon dynamics in-depth and go back and patch in extra scenes to fill the gaps of their development

[starseungs]

of fishes and chocolate muffins. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — working the morning shift at a cafe on weekdays isn't really the best, entertainment wise. still, eavesdropping on your customers wasn't something you did on a daily basis. it just so happened that two of your regulars had something in store for you today.

GENRE/S — fluff, humor, a pinch of angst, cafe/coffee shop au, writer!seungmin (barely mentioned) • 1.2k words

WARNING/S — profanity for humor, seungmin is pretty down in the dumps for most of this, part 2 of this fic but a different y/n, mentions of unrequited love

( ✒️ ) happy birthday to @seungiepaws !! here's your request for a part 2 of universe lovie, i know i said i'll do a drabble as a gift but it ended up a little longer so you're getting a whole fic mwah <3 i hope you like it

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

The small bell perched on top of the cafe’s entrance door chimed softly at the arrival of a new customer. Your well-rehearsed greetings immediately followed, words racing out of your lips before you could even think twice. It really didn’t matter whether you meant them or not. As long as the guest felt welcomed, then that meant you were already doing your job well.

You doubt any of them ever even acknowledged your efforts, anyway. That was just how the world worked on a normal Monday morning—everyone running on autopilot until the seemingly brainless hoard of zombies got their lethal dose of caffeine or sugar and started acting like proper functioning members of society for the rest of the day. Then, the cycle repeats.

As an “all-rounder” cafe employee (as you liked to call yourself), this was just another day in the bigger scale of the year. Not too important, nor was it a particularly boring day. That simply wasn’t possible if you were working at a cafe, or really, just working in general.

“You’re always here, dude.” An exasperated voice groans from the window booth next to the serving counter. You recognized his face right away as one of your regulars who looked like a hamster. “At this point, you need to pay this place rent.”

The man he was talking to rolled his eyes with a scoff, even though his fingers never stopped typing on his laptop’s keyboard. “I’m a paying customer. Objectively, I’m already giving them money to stay here.”

You couldn’t help but silently snort at the guy’s comeback. He wasn’t entirely wrong, after all. This cafe’s prices already took into account the amenities they could use here. So technically speaking, as long as customers bought something from the cafe’s menu, they could stay for as long as they want until the establishment closes. That’s not usually the case, though. Most people still had places to be and other things to do other than have a staycation on some random cafe seat.

Note that you said “most” instead of “all”. Of course, there were always bound to be those who, for the lack of a better description—overstayed their welcome. 

And one of them is that chestnut-haired male who was currently getting berated by his friend.

“Seungmin, seriously!” The other guy, who you finally remembered being named Jisung from his previous orders, exclaimed in concern. “You can’t just stay here all day, every day. I know you’re trying to get over your roommate, but at least make use of your rent?” Jisung almost pleads.

You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, as the topic seemed awfully private, but what exactly could you do from the close proximity of the counter and their booth? It’s not like you were judging the two of them. There was no harm intended, and you were sure you’d still go about your day as usual with or without this newly obtained knowledge from strangers.

Seungmin sighed. “I don’t think you want me to be cooped up in my room writing either, so what do you really want to achieve?” His hands finally parted ways from his keyboard for the first time in about an hour. “Jisung, you know being alone in the apartment is only going to remind me of how my roommate is out there with their boyfriend being all happy and enjoying life while I’m over here writing sappy fictional love stories because I don’t have one of my own.”

“Oh, but you do.” Jisung huffs. “It’s just the unrequited kind.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“Just saying,” he comments. “I’m gonna let you sulk all you want as part of your healing process, but you really shouldn’t be sacrificing yourself just for the thought of them. You deserve better, Min.”

If you could only agree out loud, then you already would’ve. Unfortunately, that meant revealing the fact that you’ve been secretly listening in to the personal conversations of your customers, and you weren’t completely sure if that was even legal for you to do so. Still, what are they going to do? Charge you for having ears?

“I don’t know,” Seungmin mutters. “I’ll manage it eventually.” And to this, Jisung only frowns.

Now, you were just as frustrated as Jisung was. Seungmin is an attractive guy—you were one hundred percent certain that he could get anyone head-over-heels for him if he wanted. And yet, here he was, a monotone mess over unrequited love? Whoever that roommate is, they had severely failed to see the vision since if that was you, best believe you weren’t letting him go just like that. 

Seungmin had honestly caught your eye ever since the moment he started going to this cafe. To put things into perspective, you were practically all smiles for the rest of the day every time he came to order something in the mornings before his daily schedule. When he started staying for whole days, it was only a matter of time before you ended up shooting your shot, even if you barely knew anything about him. Heck, the most you even knew about him was that he liked the chocolate muffins the most here!

A plate of chocolate muffin was heavily plopped down on the two men’s table, startling them due to the sudden act. They exchanged confused glances before Jisung cleared his throat to speak. “Uh—we didn’t order that.”

“It’s on the house.” You pursed your lips.

“What?” Seungmin asks, dumbfounded. You knew he was going to ask for a reason until he saw the look on your face while staring at him. His expression quickly shifted to one of mortification. “Were—were you eavesdropping on us?”

You clicked your tongue. How were you finding his reaction to that so cute? “Look, I didn’t mean to,” you explain. “See that counter? Just how far do you think my station is to your booth for me not to hear a single thing?” Seungmin only grumbles—probably to hide his embarrassment.

“Alright, sure. Whatever,” he says. “I still don’t need that muffin.”

Your eye twitched involuntarily. All of a sudden, you were already leaning on their table with narrowed eyes pointed at the laptop-facing man. “Okay, listen here, you soggy rained-on puppy.” You could have sworn you heard Jisung choke. “This is gonna sound really shitty of me, but there are plenty more fish in the sea. The same goes for your experiences in life. Trust me, you’re not even close to losing those opportunities yet. Unless you’re trying to live like a saint, that is. So grow some balls after your little pity party.”

“That was,” Seungmin exhales shakily. “Vaguely threatening. But somehow I’m not as offended as I thought I would be, so—uh, thanks?” He taps lightly on the plastic cup of his drink, looking away awkwardly.

You lifted yourself off the table and crossed your arms. “My name is Y/N. I work here every morning on the weekdays.” 

“Right,” he hums, still not glancing your way and instead facing the baked good you dropped by their tabletop. “So, is this muffin really free?”

All you let yourself give him was a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah. Just call me whenever or something. Congratulations on hooking a new fish,” you said without shame before walking away back to your station.

If you only looked back for a moment, you would’ve seen Jisung gasping for air from laughter with an incredibly red faced Seungmin blanking out as he held a serious staring contest with his muffin.

You could only hope that cheered him up a bit.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung

[luminetti]

Dressed to Kill

༘⋆ Summary: In which, you, a professional cosplayer, mistake Bakugou’s hero outfit for a really good Halloween costume. ༘⋆ Pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ༘⋆Warnings: n/a, reader is just the biggest dumbass (lovingly) also, i cannot stress this enough. they are NOT CHILDREN in this. they’re both at least the age of college seniors  ༘⋆Notes: huge thanks to one of my biggest inspirations for writing in general: @andypantsx3 ! this fic is lightly inspired by—and lowkey a lovechild of—her pieces, baby are you playing tricks and unconventional, so if you somehow haven’t read those yet, i strongly recommend doing so!  also now that i actually have more than one piece of writing, id love for some writer/fandom moots! im very new to tumblr and would love friends :’)  ao3 release

Halloween was by far your favorite holiday. 

As a child, you were always drawn to Halloween, not just for the candy, but for the extravagant costumes and house decorations. Nearly every year, you stayed up late with your father, hand-sewing various details onto your costume. Finally, for your eighteenth birthday, you were gifted your very own sewing machine which officially kickstarted your interest in cosplay.

Throughout your first couple years of college, you worked on your Twitter account, posting quick mirror selfies of your various cosplay projects. Only during senior year did you finally feel comfortable enough to go out in public for your first official photoshoot.

‘Comfortable’ was a bit of a stretch. Very seldom does one feel truly comfortable when posing in front of a grandiose fountain in the middle of a public garden, fully clad in foam armor. What made it significantly worse was when the aforementioned armor looked more like a metal bikini than an actual chest plate worn into battle.

Poor character design choices aside, you loved Halloween for that very reason. With everyone dressed up–or down, for some–there was no reason to feel self-conscious during your monthly photoshoots. Sure, there was the occasional snide remark, but the number of supportive comments from passersby was enough to quiet your uncertainty.

This year you had stayed up late for the past month putting the final touches on your purple staff, even attempting an LED system that allowed parts of it to glow. It had taken two weeks to get the prototype of the dress situated since you weren’t used to sewing such a large amount of detail into your fabrics. Unfortunately, this also meant it took significantly longer to finish the outfit than expected, leaving almost no time to do your wig. But, in true cosplayer fashion, you managed to whip something together with an older purple wig, just in time for tonight.

You did, however, only realize the character also had a sword occasionally, but there was no way you were going to make that in time so the staff would have to suffice.

The night had already been proving to be one of the best so far. Starting around eight in the evening, you and some of your closest friends had gotten together for a costume party, a series of shitty horror movies, and a plethora of even shittier cheap cocktails. Despite not being much of a drinker yourself, you always participated in the annual spooky-themed cocktail charcuterie. This year you weren’t holding back. Your pride and joy charcuterie consisted of nine drinks including, but not limited to ghost-themed Aperol Spiritz–nicknamed Spirit Spiritz, Bloody Marys, and your personal favorite, Bonejitos. They even had little skeleton dudes sitting on the rim of the glass.

Unfortunately, your friends weren’t very amused by your festive drinks, even going as far to say your ingenious Bonejitos were a stretch. So, clearly they didn’t see the vision. Eventually, the party events died down as the guests began to go home, allowing the night to evolve into just drinking.

“Did you get a photo of your costume yet?” Himari, your friend from freshman year, questioned.

You shook your head, absently watching as the rest of your friends downed your masterly made Bonejitos. Liars, all of them. “‘A stretch’ my ass,” you scoffed.

Himari dug around in her bag, retrieving her camera. “Halloween photoshoot? Your fit is cute and I’m getting bored here.”

You did like the idea of photography-major level photos with none of the price involved. “I love you, Mari.”

She stuffed your spear under her arm and with that, the two of you stepped out into the cold and crisp autumn air, the breeze running over your bare shoulders and thighs. You shivered lightly, pulling up your thigh-highs and hugging the excess fabric close to your body.

Himari glanced at you in concern. “Does the Raiden Shogun not wear a jacket?”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t.” You chuckled, rubbing your arms. “You can’t be sexy and wear a jacket,” you joked.

She hummed in sympathy, looking around for a good place to set up. The park was a particularly popular spot during Halloween, specifically known for its comforting lighting and ambience.

 “What about there?” Himari pointed to a small gazebo surrounded by violets, lit up by a string of fairy lights. There were a couple groups nearby, but otherwise it was pretty much empty.

You nodded, excited. “Good eye as always, Mari.”

She handed over your spear and offered an arm,helping you step up onto the platform and underneath the gazebo. While she adjusted the lights to her liking, you took a moment to adjust your skirt and sleeves.

“Do you think it’s too short?” you asked, tugging on the cloth. Thankfully the character wore a pair of shorts underneath, but the dress was barely miniskirt length.

Himari looked over briefly before turning back to the lights. “No, not really. Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

Before you could answer, a group of college-aged girls passed by the gazebo, clearly a bit drunk. As they left, one of the girls that was hanging onto her friend’s arm looked over. “Don’t be, girlie! You look hot as fuck!” she shouted out, words slightly slurred.

You flustered, blabbering out a quick thanks in surprise. There’s nothing like a friendly drunk girl to get your confidence up.

From behind the camera, Himari gave you a thumbs up. “Give me one of these.” She mimed leaning against the wooden banister. “Yeah like that, but with your leg more out.”

The shutter clicked several times as you did your best to recreate her gestures.

Himari proceeded to guide you through a series of poses, occasionally having you incorporate your staff or the gazebo. Eventually you got used to the flashing camera and allowed yourself to melt into the character, embodying her essence as best as you could.

Time flew and before you knew it, Himari was calling you down from the gazebo to look over the photos. You hovered over her shoulder as she flipped through each one, pausing at her favorites.

“I’ll import these onto my laptop and send them back edited sometime this week,” she told you, removing her glasses and wiping them off with her sleeve.

You nodded. “Thanks for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” You rummaged through your bag, hoping to find at least a little money for her efforts. Feeling a couple bills between your fingers, you held them out to her.

Himari’s eyes squinted and you realized she was staring over your shoulder. “I think that guy in costume was looking at you,” she said, still cleaning off the lenses.

You turned to see a tall man across the park, large grenade shaped gauntlets resting on both his arms. He quickly looked away once he saw your head turn. Looking closer, you realized he was dressed in a dark black sleeveless jumpsuit with orange and green straps along his body.

He was clearly a Dynamight cosplayer. And by the looks of it, a really talented one at that.

You were almost convinced that he had real hero equipment on. His armor pieces were strikingly accurate, and you made a mental note to look for more realistic prop materials.

“He probably spent a lot of time on that,” you mused to Himari, who had already gone back to inspecting the photos.

“You should go ask him about it.” she suggested, collecting the rest of her things and zipping her bag. “I’ve gotta catch an Uber soon.”

Maybe it was the lingering confidence gifted by the girl from earlier, but you managed to muster up enough self-assurance to wave goodbye to Himari and stride right up to the cosplayer.

As you got closer, you realized just how much work must have gone into all the details. The gauntlets–a very convincing metal–had several dents and scratches, giving it a worn down look, as if it had been used frequently.

His hair looked far too real to be a wig, likely just being his natural hair with lots of product in it. The most impressive detail by far was his physique. Had he trained specifically for this? The closer you got the more you noticed. If you were lucky, maybe he’d give you the name of his supplier.

“I love your outfit!” You smiled cheerily at him.

He turned to look at you, slightly taken aback. “Thanks?” he replied, folding his arms as he looked you over, eyes lingering on your cosplay.

You felt a twinge of anxiety as he inspected your outfit. He probably just didn’t recognize the character, you convinced yourself.

“I’m a cosplayer too,” you clarified, gesturing to your dress. “But clearly not as dedicated as you.”

You watched as his chest puffed lightly at the compliment, though he titled his head, a bit puzzled.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you tried a different method. “How long did it take to make?”

He blinked at you and shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe a couple of months? I just told them what I wanted.”

Oh, you got it now. He’s just a model. It wasn’t uncommon for people to collaborate on cosplays, especially ones where one person either commissions or buys a cosplay from an artist, and then models it themself. Either way, he was still one of the best you’ve seen.

You nodded in understanding. “Do you have social media? I’d love to see what else you’ve done.” Pulling out your phone, you loaded up your Twitter, preparing to enter his tag.

“Dynamight Official. All one word,” he replied hesitantly, looking you up and down as if he was scanning for signs of sickness.

You chuckled faintly. He was really dedicated to his role. “Well, what's your name? I follow a lot of cosplayers already. Maybe I’ve seen you?” You pulled up your profile and turned the screen around to show him in case he recognized your tag.

His arms unfolded and his face slowly morphed from confused to exceptionally amused. “Bakugou Katsuki. I am Dynamight.”

Waving him off absently, you nodded as you scrolled through your followed accounts. You swear you’ve seen him online before. “Sorry, I’m not really good at roleplay. But you’re pretty convincing.”

He leaned against the cold metal lamppost, watching you sift through various Twitter accounts. You sneaked a glance to check his facial features again, but he was already staring straight back at you.

In such close capacity, his striking crimson eyes stood out to you. Even his contacts were high quality… Fighting back the warmth that threatened your cheeks and ears, you averted your gaze downwards.

Your eyes flicked to his waist. You hadn’t noticed it before, but a thick black bomber jacket was tied tightly around his torso, unlike the real hero’s costume. Well, you stand corrected. You certainly can be sexy with a jacket.

Speaking of jackets, you had been so caught up in conversation you hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten. The soft breeze from earlier had picked up into chilly wind, rustling the fabric of your dress as it blew by.

Bakufaux–haha–seemed to notice your interest in his jacket, untying it and tossing it over your shoulders. “Bit cold for you, Princess?” he drawled. “D’nno how you’ve managed in that outfit.” He gestured to your short dress and tall socks.

You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you for a half second longer than normal. Not that you would’ve said anything. Thanks to his jacket, you were enveloped with warm and musky scents of charcoal and sandalwood. Though, being honest with yourself, you’ve been distracted ever since you walked over.

You snapped out of your trance when he pushed himself off the lamppost and leaned over you. It could’ve been twenty degrees out and you’d still swear you were overheating.

“Ever considered cosplaying in my costume?” He asked, watching your darkening cheeks closely.

Maybe it was the shit eating grin he wore proudly on his face, or the sneaking suspicion in your gut, but you had an inkling of a feeling he knew something you didn’t. In a surge of confidence and curiosity, or perhaps just pure adrenaline, you took a step forward.

“And if I have?”

Something snapped behind his eyes and you could’ve sworn his gaze dropped to your lips. He might’ve actually kissed you if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and the screams of customers inside a late night coffee shop.

You felt your heart rate increase as he swore under his breath, whatever smug expression he previously had was replaced by something far more intense and serious.

‘“I’m not leaving you out here alone, stay close to me,” he urged, taking one last look at you before turning and running towards the sound.

It took you a second to realize you were running behind him as fast as possible.

As the two of you neared the coffee shop, you noticed numerous shards of glass laid out on the concrete. On a second glance, you noticed some of the smaller shards were beginning to melt, turning the ground slightly slick.

You halted to a stop, almost crashing into your new friend. You felt a warm hand snake around your waist, lifting your body off the ground and onto a nearby bench.

“Don’t touch the ground, and stay right here,” he told you sternly, before turning and rushing straight into the cafe.

You watched, frozen in astonishment, only able to hear the horrific sounds of glass and… explosions? Occasionally you caught a glimpse of blonde hair, dropping off a poor customer caught in the crossfire, before dashing straight back inside. In what felt like seconds, he had already retrieved nearly every patron from the cafe, all while the villain was still inside.

Quickening footsteps approached from behind your place on the bench. You barely had a chance to comprehend the noises when a flash of red zipped past you, making a beeline straight for the cafe. Only after several trips in and out of the building did you finally recognize the eccentric costume of Pro-Hero Red Riot as he gathered the remainder of the victims outside.

Through the ringing in your ears you could only vaguely make out shouting between Red Riot and someone else still inside the building. It was all intelligible until he turned to you and the victims. The last words you heard was look away, or at least you assumed.

You weren’t interested in waiting around to find out so you shut your eyes tight and turned away from the scene as best as you could.

At first nothing happened. But after a beat, you felt your eyes burn behind your eyelids as a blistering wave of heat surrounded you. You think you screamed, but you weren’t entirely sure. Every muscle in your body tensed as the bench shook underneath you, threatening to break.

But as quickly as it came, it passed. You couldn’t tell how long you had been trapped in that position, clutching your knees to your chest with your eyes sealed shut. A warm hand shook you out of position, jostling your eyes open.

When your eyes finally adjusted, blocking your vision of the cafe was none other than a tall silhouette, and familiar red eyes.

“Hey, stay with me, Princess. You hurt?”

You felt calloused hands hastily press against your body, examining you for injury. He took a hold of your ankle, easing you into extending. “Anything?”

Shaking your head, you gripped onto him as he lifted you from the bench to your feet, steadying you with strong arms.

“Happy Halloween,” you managed to mutter meekly into his chest.

You felt him shudder beneath your head as he laughed, surprisingly heartily.

“Certainly one you’ll remember.” His low voice resonated in your brain, calming whatever nerves were remaining. “Let’s get you home, m’kay?”

You let him navigate you back to your apartment surprisingly deftly given your shaky directions, until finally you found yourself thanking him at your doorstep and shutting the door behind you.

Now that you were home and given a chance to breathe, you weren’t sure what was real. Everything mixed together in a blur and you couldn’t tell if it was all a dream or not.

As you groggily slumped against your bed, you felt something soft bundle against your back. Sitting up, you reached behind your back to feel the cool fabric of the black jacket you had been holding tightly against yourself. Embroidered on the sleeve were a pair of initials you hadn’t noticed before.

B.K.

With a strange pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone.

Sure enough, you had one new notification.

@DynamightOfficial followed you back

The device buzzed in your hand with a second notification. A direct message request alongside an image. Swiping to your messages, you opened the text from your new follower.

Front and center was a quick photo of Bakugou’s hero costume, laid out neatly on his bed. Directly underneath the image were two small text bubbles.

u take commissions?

ive got something in mind for ya

[myillicitaffair]

One of your girls part two | Carlos Sainz Jr

Summary: after a fateful outcome, Carlos wants to fix what he unintentionally broke.

Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, angst, alcohol consumption, dirty dancing, small description of throwing up, cheating, mentions of sex, messed up dynamics, slight swearing.

Notes: second part of this fic. i also wanted to say i’m currently taking request, to anyone who might be interested xx.

Credits: the gif used belongs to @neymarhamilton ‘s tumblr account, so all credits belong to them. this part, just like the one before, is inspired by the song “one of your girls” by Troye Sivan.

1.8k

SIX MONTHS AGO:

A chilly night welcomes my friend group as we make our way through a prestigious and crowded restaurant situated in the heart of Madrid.

Being born and raised in Spain´s capital city, the girls now walking into the facilities have been by my side my whole life; faith brought us together our first day of school, just three frightened little kids trying to survive elementary.

I like to believe that we complement each other, even if we hadn´t met all those years ago, life would have found a way to connect us.

A girl’s night out is a rare occurrence between us; always being on the shy side, we very much prefer staying in, drowning ourselves in sweet treats while marathoning our comfort romcoms.

The reason why we´re summoned tonight is quite simple… my very first broken heart.

You see, in an attempt to lighten the mood, my friends brought us to an extremely exclusive eatery, one where we clearly didn´t fit in. The difference was quite notorious, surrounded by leggy models and their handsome companions, I quite frankly begin to wonder why I ever agreed.

With a deep breath, I straighten my back and let the hostess remove my coat. “In for a penny, in for a pound” I think with a resigned shrug of the shoulders.

As we´re carried to our spot, I try and take the essence of the place in. I start noticing its eccentric décor, dim lights brightening the burgundy walls, leather booths scattered all over the classy tile floor.

What makes an ordinary dinner such a big success? Its bizarre modality.

Our table is filled with strangers, completely engulfed in their different conversations. The main reason for my friends to take us to this unconventional location was exactly this; the inexorable need to engage in conversations with foreign people.

The first round of dirty martinis arrives as the last costumers take their places next to me, with a lousy cheer I pour the drink down my throat, feeling its pleasant burning down my body, warming me up, making me forget.

“Easy there tiger”- the man sited by my side chuckles, gesturing towards my empty glass.

I take a moment to wander across his features. Thick eyebrows, big brown eyes, plump lips. Definitely attractive, exactly what I need.

A smile creeps up my face, the wires in my brain getting to work.

I notice an elegantly worn designer shirt hugging his chest, his forearms resting against the wooden surface, his attentive stare trying to read my thoughts.

“And you are?”- I condescendingly tease him.

“Carlos”- his hand travels to mine, embracing me with his warm- “Carlos Sainz.”

The subtle body hair covering his fist tickling my naked skin, igniting a fire deep inside me.

And in that moment, I simply knew there was no getting out, not anybody else as long as he kept staring at me like this, eating me raw with his gaze.

That was the first night I ever came back home with him.

————

FOUR MONTHS AGO:

Carlos is away for the weekend, oceans separating us, palpable distance every time he races through my mind.

I try convincing myself It’s the sex I miss, the obvious physical attraction, the invisible force that pulls us towards the other, the feeling of his warm skin being impossibly closer to mine.

Truth being told, I’m sitting immovable on my bed, nervously waiting for a call.

I can’t help but recall his soft locks intertwined with my fingers, his tongue inching towards my neck, how he never fails to make my blood boil with a simple grin.

My phone brings me out of my daydreams, screaming for attention as a call enters it. His name glistening on the screen, filling me with pure bliss and forcing me to hold my giggles.

Acting like a schoolgirl with a crush while being a full-grown adult… how pathetic!

Two rings go by before i pick up, bitting my bottom lip to keep my voice calm as if I wasn’t desperately clinging to it seconds ago.

“Gorgeous, you got a minute to spare?”- he asks, clear amusement in his tone, abusing the charm he knows he has.

“That depends, Carlos, who’s asking?”

I’m gobsmacked at how composed I sound, nowhere near how I actually feel.

My knuckles turn white from grasping my sheets.

“Don’t be like that, princess, I know you miss me”- his smile visible through his speech.

My heart skips a beat, can his words be revealing my true feelings?

“Oh honey, keep lying to yourself if it helps you sleep at night…”

I’m met with his scandalous laugh filling the line, raising my pulse until it’s beating on my ears.

Everything stops, everything keeps going.

I close my eyes in acknowledgement, being forced to admit what i’ve been denying ever since I met him.

Oh, how screwed I am!

———

TWO MONTHS AGO:

The music rumbles at the disco, throbbing on my skin with its intensity.

Being dragged to a hip party, my friends and I are bundled up in the comfort of our own group, dancing between ourselves.

As I rock my body to meet the pulsating rhythm, I embrace Carlos’s presence behind me, tightly grabbing my waggling hips.

He presses himself into me and I rub against his growing erection, purposely torturing him. His kisses start straying while sucking visible red marks into my neck.

His penetrating cologne invades my nostrils, clinging into my bare skin like a golden tattoo.

The mix of the alcohol I insisted on chugging and his hands shaping my whole body becoming intoxicating.

A foreign touch on my shoulder makes me open my eyes, leaving me to face my friend staring at me like i’ve grown a second head.

“You’re coming with me”- she pronounces as she drags me away from Carlos, who snorts in disbelief.

“What? Why?”- I ask as i’m forced to take a seat at the bar.

“Have you gone mad? You two were literally dry humping each other in the middle of the crowd!”- She hisses worriedly, forcing me to drink the water bottle she bought for me.

As she sits next to me, I prepare myself for the lecture she’s about to impart me, letting my eyes wonder across the dance floor.

I catch a glimpse of Carlos standing against a wall, hemmed by complete darkness, sometimes interrupted by one of the dj's lights.

When the spotlight lands on him, I start noticing the delicate hands hugging his broad shoulders, the almost nonexistent distance between him and the blonde caressing his cheeks.

Bile climbs up my throat, threatening to be ejected thanks to the scene before me.

Her lips all over his neck, staining the collar of his white shirt with lipstick.

Realizing i’m not paying an iota of attention to her, my friends follows my gaze stumbling across the sequence.

Effortlessly, she yanks me away from the enclosed space and into the garden.

Without being able to stop myself, I empty the contents of my stomach into the ground, constantly replaying the flashbacks of their sensual dance.

“Everything’s okay now, love”- My friend states while caressing my tangled up hair. Her fingertips come into contact with my cheeks, brushing my tears away.

Sobs are quick to scape my lungs, becoming more and more erratic as I imagine the second by second unfolding inside the disco.

———

PRESENT:

After running away from Carlos’s house, in the middle of a Madrilenian night, I’m fast to hide into the loneliness of my apartment.

I can’t even find comfort in blaming him as I was the one to agree with our “no exclusivity policy”, believing I could make it work.

How stupid of me to think I would be capable of not being trapped into his nets.

Clearly the only solution I can possibly come up with is crying it out, and that’s how I found myself in this situation; puffy eyes, completely ruined mascara, quivering eyes from shedding way too many tears.

Could I have been more stupid? I can’t even resonate one good reason why I would ever accept what he’s willing to offer me while wanting him in his entirety.

My determination is easily devastated as desperate fists bang against my door.

“Please, open up”- A too familiar voice implores from outside the apartment.

“I don’t ever wanna see you again”- I manage to scream through whimpers.

“I beg of you, please let me in! I swear I can explain.”

Standing right on the other side of the door, I feel my hand toying with the doorknob, trying to determinate whether or not to listen to his pleas.

“There’s nothing to explain, Carlos!”- I say, above a whisper, my voice to fragile for anything else.

“There’s been a while since i’ve been with anyone else, alright? Not since all I could think about was you!”

An unbreakable silence fills the hallways of the building, only the sound of his pantings and heavy breathing interrupting the stillness.

Without much hesitation, I open the hinges separating us.

Clearly, I was nowhere near prepared for the view before me; his full brown eyes now shimmering with unshed orbs, accumulated in his tear ducts.

“How about the girl from the voicemail?”- I ask, almost scared to find out this is all a product of my imagination.

“I know what that seemed like, but I promise you it’s not what you think!”- he says, piercing me with his gaze- “That was my ex girlfriend. She has a hard time letting go of me, even though there’s been more than a year since we’ve last been together. I never answer her calls and that’s why she’s getting more and more desesperate.”

Everything around me stops just to listen to his next words, my heart betting so out of control he might even hear it.

“Back at my apartment you told me you were enamored by me, well, there’s no use in trying to deny i’m in love with you”- he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear- “so much it’s physically painful, it’s all I can think about.”

My brain turned into mush as his confession sinks in. I almost want to laugh at how ridiculous the idea seems to me; the man I love, probably the only one i’ll ever love, stating that my feelings are reciprocate.

A sigh leaves my parted lips as a quiet tear runs down my face.

“I know i’ve made my mistakes and believe me when I say i’ll regret them every minute i’m on this earth, but I promise you, that if you give me the chance, i’ll make it up to you until my dying breath”- his voice sounds shaky, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of him.

I don’t think I ever reacted as fast as now, jumping into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. Little giggles leave both of our mouths at the ridiculous situation.

“I love you”- He murmurs, muffled by the kisses he’s pressing against my checks.

“I love you too”- I answer back, with our bodies still entwined.

[coolemmasulivan2]

Love Wins (Even in Red) | 3

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reporter!Reader

Summary: Fate reunites them under the red lights of Old Trafford. Interviews are frosty, leaving people wondering why. Can Mason forgive Reader for something that happened in the past? Can she win Mason's heart and prove love wins even on red?

Word Count: 3526

Author's Note: You could read part 1 and 2 in my now old blog, but my account was closed by Tumblr, but I still wanted people to read part 3 (even if the other parts have died), so here it is. If you haven't read or don't remember the other parts, I think it's best not to read this one.

Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called And said, "I miss you", I caught it

Your shoes on her feet were pissing you off. Everything about her visit, the bad timing, the unwelcome reminder of the past, was starting to grate. Lily was your little sister, and despite the years of hurt and betrayal, a sliver of love still flickered within you. It would always be there, buried deep, but trust and affection? Those were long gone.

Across the table, your roommate glared at Lily with daggers for eyes. Clare wasn't happy about this surprise visit either and the way she chopped her steak said it all.

Clare's voice, sharp as a knife, cut through the awkward silence. "So, Lily, what brings you here?" 

Lily offered her a smile. "Oh, I just miss Y/n so much! And since she couldn't make it to my graduation, I thought I'd surprise her with a visit. You know, it's been ages!"

You scoffed internally. Lily wasn't the sentimental type, and affection had never been her strong suit. Neither had it been for the rest of your family.

"Right." She managed, forcing a neutral smile. You shot Clare a glance, hoping to restrain her hatred, but your roommate ignored you completely. "How long are you planning to stay?"

"Only three days!" Lily said. "I got a job back in London, going to start next week."

"Oh, that's good."

You stayed silent, picking at your food without much appetite. You could practically hear your mother's voice in your head: "Y/n, don't play with your food!" Your stomach was already churning from the earlier incident, and the awkward dinner atmosphere wasn't helping.

"Y/n? Did you hear me?"

You blinked, startled by your thoughts. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Just wondering how things are going with you. Work? Everything alright?" Her voice dripped with a sweetness you found questionable. Was she mocking you? Or maybe trying to pry about how you were doing with Mason now that he was around?

Across the table, Clare let out a loud scrape as her knife snagged across her plate. The harsh sound did little to hide the tension radiating from her. You could practically see her clench her jaw, trying to control her anger.

"Everything's good," you mumbled, forcing a smile. You didn't want to get into a conversation, especially not with Lily. But the silence felt suffocating, so you offered a bland reply, hoping to deflect further questions.

The Christmas lights twinkled on the tree, casting a warm glow on the richly decorated table. You, recently graduated, sat across from your parents, a nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. You'd finally landed your dream job – a football reporter. Tonight, you wanted to share your accomplishment, to celebrate this pivotal moment in your life with your family.

"So, Y/n," your father started, "tell us all about this 'football reporter' job of yours. Sounds… interesting." His voice held a faint undercurrent of scepticism that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your smile was big. "It is, Dad! I get to meet incredible athletes, analyze the game from a different perspective, share the stories behind the players that make them human, not just statistics on a page…"

"The stories behind the players," your mother echoed, her perfectly manicured red nails tapping a rhythmic counterpoint against the tablecloth. "Like what, exactly? 'Football Star caught eating pizza before the big match'? Don't you think you could be using your talents for something… more important? A doctor, perhaps?"

The air hung heavy, the weight of their disapproval pressing down on you. "Mom, I love this job. It lets me be creative, connect with fans, capture the passion of the sport…"

"Creative?" Your mother mocked. "Medical school, that was clever. Imagine the impact you could've had as a doctor, Y/n, making a real difference in the world."

A heavy silence fell upon the table. Your mother pursed her lips, her disapproval a palpable presence. You glanced at your younger sister, Lily, who sat beside you, seemingly engrossed in her phone, like always.

"At least we still have Lily." Your father finally muttered, a hint of resignation in his voice. "She's on track to become a Lawer, just like we always hoped." His words, though apparently meant to be comforting, only deepened the depth that had grown between you and your family.

You sprawled on your bed, watching a random movie on TV. The awkward dinner had left a sour taste in your mouth, and the tension with Lily still crackled in the air. You sighed, a wave of exhaustion washing over you.

The door creaked open, and Clare poked her head in. Her usually bright eyes held a dark glint. "Can I please kill her?" she whispered, gesturing towards the living room where your sister was sleeping.

You chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "No, Clare, you can't kill her. She's still my sister, even if…" Your voice trailed off, searching for the right words.

Clare walked into the room, closing the door behind her and flopping dramatically onto the bed beside you. "Even if she's a… leech?"

A ghost of a smile played on your lips. "Something like that."

Clare propped herself up on one elbow, her gaze fixed on the flickering TV screen. "But seriously, why do you think she's here? The timing is awfully convenient, wouldn't you say."

You couldn't argue with that. "Maybe she just… missed me?" you offered, the doubt heavy in your voice.

Clare snorted, a skeptical eyebrow raised. "Honey, let's be real. Lily missing anyone besides her phone or free vacations? Not likely."

Her words were harsh, but they held a ring of truth. "So, what do you think she wants? You don't think…" you stammered, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.

"Think what?" Clare prompted, her gaze sharp. "That she's worried about the video being leaked, especially now that Mason plays for United and is practically your neighbour?"

You stared at the ceiling, the image of Mason's smile flashing before your eyes. The idea of Lily sabotaging your relationship with Mason once again filled you with a cold fury.

"Well," you finally said, your voice steely with resolve, "if that's her game, she's underestimated me. I won't let her hold this over my head anymore. It's my time to be happy."

Across the white tablecloth, Olivia's voice buzzed like a nervous bee. "So, my parents dragged me all the way from California to Manchester when I was eight. Talk about culture shock!" Her laugh, light and tinkly, didn't quite reach Mason.

His smile, felt heavy tonight. It was a mask hiding the knot of butterflies twisting in his stomach. The fancy lobster soup in front of him remained untouched, a sad contrast to the vivid picture playing on repeat in his head.

You! Your long hair illuminated by the warm sun, your eyes sparkling when talking about the things you liked and made you happy, your pink soft lips touching his. He could almost feel the warmth of your hands as they brushed against his cheeks, sending a shiver down his spine.

"It must've been tough." He said, moving uncomfortably in his chair.

Olivia, oblivious to his internal baggage, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It was, but Manchester grew on you, you know? There's just this… vibe here. It's electric."

Mason forced a chuckle. Vibe! His brother loved throwing that word around. It was probably the same way he'd described the blind date he had set him up with – "She's got this great vibe, Mase, you'll love her!" But that wasn't what he was feeling.

"So, Mason…" Olivia continued, her smile fading under his distracted gaze. "Tell me about yourself. Is there anything you're passionate about outside of football?"

Mason blinked, pulled back from the memory of your face by Olivia's question. "Uh, well, football obviously takes up a lot of my time, but…" He trailed off, his mind searching for something, anything, to fill the silence. However, he knew he should end the dinner soon, it was not fair to Olivia. Your image always in his mind, vibrant and passionate, made it hard to stay present. "Olivia..." he started.

Olivia's smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly. "No worries, Mason. It's clear we're not really on the same page. It's fine."

A real smile finally broke through on Mason's face as they said goodbye. After paying the bill and making sure Olivia got a cab, a wave of relief washed over him. He pulled out his phone, his heart pounding, as he typed a single message to Bruno: "Can you send me Y/n's number?"

The sunlight sliced through the gap in your curtains as panic jolted you awake. A frantic glance at the old clock you still had on your nightstand confirmed your worst fear. You were late. Way late.

Your phone lay lifeless on the nightstand after a tense dinner with Lily. No phone alarm, no clue what time you'd fallen asleep, no idea if you'd missed any messages or calls. Mostly, you worried about work. Being late wasn't your thing.

Throwing off the covers, you launched into a record-breaking morning routine. You put on the first thing you pulled from the closet and practically ran out of the room, searching for your coat. 

A glance towards the kitchen caught you off guard. Breakfast sat on the table, a spread fit for a king compared to your usual morning routine. 

"Good morning!" Lily appeared with a glass of orange juice in her hand. You couldn't help but wonder if you even had oranges in the house.

"Hi," you mumbled, pulling your hair into a messy ponytail. "What's all this?"

She smiled, clearly proud of herself. "Breakfast, silly! Sit down and eat something."

The tempting aroma tickled your nose, but you couldn't. "I can't. I'm already late." You reached for your coat, glimpsing out the window to see that it was raining.

"Oh, I hoped we could talk," Lily said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "You know... without Clare around."

"I'll be back later. We can talk then. Now I really have to go." You grabbed your bag and everything you needed, throwing a hurried goodbye over your shoulder.

"Have a nice day." 

Lily's words echoed in your ears as everything went wrong. You missed the bus, the rain hammered down as you stepped outside, and to top it all off, you'd left your phone uncharging at home in the morning chaos. By the time you finally reached your work, you were soaked to the bone.

When you were finally leaving work, one of your coworkers who witnessed your day of misfortune, took pity on you and offered you a ride home. At least something seemed to be going right. 

Stepping inside the house, the clean, fresh scent greeted you like a warm hug. Lily sat on the couch, laptop open on her lap and a smile on her face.

"Hi, big sis! How did your day go?"

You wanted to scream the first words that came to mind: awful, the worst, horrible. Instead, you settled for a simple, "Busy!"

"Did you clean?" You asked, gesturing to the spotless living room. She nodded. "You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do."

"Well, thanks." You took your coat, hanging it by the door. "I'm going to take a shower and then we can talk about what you wanted to talk about this morning."

"Okay."

In your room, you tossed your bag onto the bed and flopped down, staring at the ceiling. It had been a long time since a day had gone so wrong, and all you wanted was to sleep and erase it from your memory. But Lily still wanted to talk.

With a sigh, you got up and spotted your phone, still dead, lying on the nightstand where you'd left it. You grabbed the charged cable from your bag and connected them, a flicker of life returning to the screen as the battery symbol lit up.

Grabbing some fresh clothes, you headed to the bathroom, letting the warm water wash away the stress. You didn't know how long you stood there, but eventually, the water grew lukewarm, and you stepped out.

Back in the living room, you dropped onto the couch, the TV playing some random show Lily had left on.

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

Lily closed her laptop and faced you, her expression serious. You mirrored her posture, sensing the conversation was going to be serious.

"Okay, so, I have some news I haven't shared with you." Confusion clouded your face. She shifted slightly, a sign of nervousness. "Well, I have a boyfriend."

You smiled. "Lily, you're a grown woman, you don't have to tell me about your boyfriends."

She stood up and walked over, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "This time I do have to tell you." Your silence encouraged her to continue. "You see, it's a serious relationship and... We're engaged!"

Your jaw dropped. You were happy, but deep down there was also a sense of jealousy. So, she was supposed to be happy but you weren't, you thought to yourself. 

"I— I don't know what to say. Congrats!" You opened your arms for a hug, which she returned. "How— how long have you been dating him? I mean, what's his name?"

"His name is John. John Kingsley." Lily said a nervous smile on her face.

The name hung heavy in the air, a suffocating weight pressing down on you. Lily felt a sense of dread as she saw a flicker of recognition in your eyes, her nervous anticipation replaced by fear.

Blood roared in your ears, drowning out everything else. "Professor Kingsley?" you choked out, the words barely a whisper.

Lily's expression was replaced by a grimace of apology. "Yes!" She stammered. She knew the truth would explode, and the fear in your eyes was a reflection of her own.

"How could you?" you said, the anger you'd bottled up for three years finally bursting. "That video, of both of you, forced me away from Mason! He ruined my life!"

"It was not him that blackmailed us."

"Blackmail us? You mean Blackmailed me!" Tears welled up in Lily's eyes, but they did little to extinguish the fire in yours. "How could you even think about marrying-- How old is he?"

She'd known this anger was coming. She still remembered the fear and the disappointment in your eyes as you'd agreed to leave Mason and London behind.

"Y/n, I—" she started, but your voice cut through her like a knife.

"I had to leave Mason," you choked out, your voice thick with unshed tears. "I had to give up everything because of that video. And you're going to marry him?"

"Like I said, It wasn't him that blackmailed you."

The weight of your sacrifice, the years of unspoken hurt, crashed down on you like a tidal wave. "It doesn't matter, Lily! It was because of your video that they were able to blackmail me." You shouted. Lily reached for you, a silent plea for understanding, but you flinched away. "Don't touch me," you whispered, the words laced with ice.

"Y/n, please." she pleaded. "Let me explain."

"I don't want to hear it," you said, your voice trembling with the force you were trying to contain. "I want you to be happy, Lily. Seriously, I do. But I can't be a part of this. Not after everything you two did to me."

Without another word, you grabbed your coat and stormed out of the house. You slammed the front door shut, the rain hitting your face. Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring the world around you. You didn't see the familiar car pull up in front of the house.

Mason.

He approached the house, unaware of your presence as you left the house. He quickly got out of the car, his concern etching on his face as he knocked on the door.

Lily opened the door, a flicker of surprise crossing both of their features. 

"Ahm-- Lily?" He said, unsure of the name. He had only met her once and she didn't exactly look like that young girl anymore.

"Mason? Hi. What are you doing here?" She looked nervous and looked like she'd been crying.

"I've been trying to reach Y/n, but her phone is off. I needed to talk to her."

Lily's eyes darted nervously around, avoiding his gaze. "She's not home."

Disappointment clouded Mason's face. "Oh, okay. I guess I'll try her again later. Thanks anyway." He turned to leave, his shoulders slumped.

But before he could disappear into the rain, Lily spoke up. "Wait, Mason. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He stopped, and a flicker of confusion appeared in his eyes. "Sure." Lily stepped aside, guiding him into the house.

Your breaths mixed in the quiet aftermath, soft sighs escaping your lips. Mason traced a finger along your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"You know," he began, his voice husky with tiredness. "Spending time with you it's the best part of my day."

A shy smile bloomed on your face as you ran your fingers slowly on his chest. "Really?"

"Absolutely," he confirmed, his eyes searching yours. "I just... I really like you, Y/n. More than I thought possible."

Your heart skipped a beat. "I... I feel the same way," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. "So," You murmured, your voice filled with unspoken hope. "What does that mean for us?"

He pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I think," He said, his voice gaining strength. "That maybe we should make things official. Be a couple, you know?"

Your eyes sparkled with joy. "I'd like that more than anything."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss.

Pushing open the front door, you were greeted by an unfamiliar darkness. The dining table was illuminated by the soft glow of two flickering candles, casting the rest of the house into darkness.

"Clare?" you called out, your voice echoing in the silence. No answer. You reached out to find the light switch, but there was no light when you clicked it.

"Clare's not home." a voice startled you from the shadows.

You felt relieved at the familiar voice, and for a moment, the intense emotions you were feeling were pushed aside. "Mason? What are you doing here?"

He stepped closer, the candlelight painting his features in a warm glow. "Been trying to reach you since last night." You remembered your phone, still charging on the nightstand. "Lily opened the door for me." You looked around for any sign of her and Mason could tell. "She's also not here. She left." Good, you thought. "She told me everything. About the video, the blackmail... Why didn't you tell me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the image of his concerned face. "I'm so sorry," you choked out, the apology tumbling from your lips before you could stop it.

He reached out, his fingers gently cupping your cheeks. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I shouldn't have ended things with you." You confessed, your voice thick with regret. "It was Lily's mistake. But then they blackmailed me and I couldn't... I did it to protect her. I had to."

His eyes softened with understanding. "I know. I understand." He said, his voice gentle. "Hell, I would have done the same for my family." The tears came harder then, a torrent of relief and regret. He pulled you close, his embrace a safe place in the darkness. You missed his hugs. "Don't cry, please." He murmured, his fingers stroking your hair. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry." You murmured against his chest. "I broke your heart and you didn't deserve it." 

"Stop that." He whispered. "Look, romantic dinner by candlelight wasn't exactly the plan, but the power's out, so..."

A choked laugh escaped your lips. "I missed you. Every single day." You admitted, the words tumbling out before you could hold them back any longer.

His smile, illuminated by the flickering candlelight, was the most beautiful thing you'd seen in days. "I missed you more." He confessed, his voice husky with emotion.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that tasted of forgiveness, relief, and a love that had never truly died. It was a slow, and tender kiss, filled with unspoken promises of a future where nothing, not blackmail, not family drama, would ever tear you apart again. As you pulled away, his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear.

"No more goodbyes, okay?" He said, his voice firm with resolve. "We'll face everything together. Always." You nodded, a new strength blooming in your chest. No more running, no more hiding. 

He leaned in once more, his eyes searching yours. "Mason?" You murmured. "I love you. I always did." 

"I love you too. Since the first moment that I saw you." You locked your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. The future, with him by your side, was all that mattered now.

[kissitbttr]

omg can i ask for reader and miguel’s baby turning 1, and they celebrate the birthday, like how kylie jenner did for her precious babygirl stormi🥹 like miguel getting his precious daughter large toys, lots of performers, large bouncy houses, blasting spanish music, and cutting the cake, i really hope u see this ask🥹🥹

side note: ur like my fav tumblr fanfic writer rn, you’re so gorgeous and i hope you have a good day🩷🩷

AAA THIS IS A VERY CUTE IDEA ANONNNN

my note: i am?? *gasps* you're so sweet!! i am so honored my lovieeee!! thank you so much🥺

-

one thing. she has only asked miguel for one thing and he just dismissed her like that!

the two of them had previously discussed in matters of their baby girl's upcoming birthday, and she had told--no-- threatened him to keep things simple and baby-proof,

guess, she should've known that he was prone to never really listen

"you are so. dead, o'hara" she grumbles, scanning over the party decorations in their backyard. the twenty-ish big pink presents put neatly in the corner, a princess castle bouncy house, a DJ deck, and food catering?

there are already people stopping by and busying themselves at the party, she finds a couple familiar faces like peter, jess, even the kids gwen and miles.

he puts his hands up in defense, staring at her with a playful smile. "I know I know I went a little bit overboard--"

"a little?!"

"but querida, come on" he snakes his hands around her waist, tugging her closer but her eyes aren't even on him. "it's our baby girl's first birthday-- I had to give her all"

"what would a baby need a DJ deck for anyway?" she asks with a frown,

''we can set it aside and use it for a band.. i already have two ready for the party"

her jaw drops open. "a band?!"

''ay okay stop with the dramatic expressions, princesa" he chuckles, kissing her forehead.

shaking her head, she replies "you already got her two barbie houses, a pink range rover for kids, brand new stuffed animals that look like they escaped from the damn zoo, Disneyland tickets and a cinderella's carriage baby crib... you spoil her too much"

he shrugs, "like i told you... she's my baby"

"and how much have you spent for all of that, hm?"

he envelopes her hands between his, kissing the knuckles to ease her. "don't worry about that. got too much money in my bank account and I will use it to spoil the fuck out of both of you."

a light smile spreads across her face. "she wouldn't even remember half of this miggy, you know that?"

"we'll record it and everything" he shrugs, looking around the party feeling proud of his work. "I want her to have the best birthday ever. not just this but the next one and the next one and the next"

she can't help but feel her heart soften. he is so full of love every time he talks about their baby, an ultimate girl dad.

"i can't imagine what you will do for her quinceanera"

he winces at that, head shaking at the thought. "don't remind me. i want our baby girl to stay little forever"

she chuckles at that, standing on her tippy toes to kiss his chin. "what an amazing father you are, my love"

his cheeks warm at the compliment, glancing down at her to give her a grateful smile. one that speaks how glad he is to have her by his side, to call her his, to hear those words coming from her lips.

the sound of a precious giggle distracts them both, craning their heads toward the source of the sound and seeing jess holding their baby girl in her arms. dressed in a pretty pink dress with tiara on top

y/n reaches out to make grabby hands at jess. "hello pretty girl! gimme gimme" picking sofia from jess's grip, earning a cute giggle from her,

"she couldn't stop pulling at peter's hair-- your baby's got quite a grip" she mentions before walking away with a smile,

miguel snorts at that, silently patting himself on the back for what his baby had done,

cradling her closer to her chest, y/n fakes a gasp. "eso hizo, no es asi? uncle peter probably deserved it"

sofia babbles more, clapping her chubby hands at the two of them. miguel chuckles at the baby's cute antics and the way his wife talks in a baby voice,

a lucky bastard he is,

"daddy did this all for you, mamas-- aren't you happy? yeah?" she coos once more, bringing sofia closer to Miguel,

''come here pretty girl" miguel's hands move to grab her tiny body, picking her from his wife's grip. a sigh of contentment escapes from his lips. "my little princess... aren't you the prettiest baby I have ever seen, hm? you got that from your mami"

y/n eyes the interaction between the two of them, her finger moves to sofia's hand which she grips it.

"she is so fluffy.. we have a chunky baby"

miguel frowns, feigning a fake offensive look. "you calling our baby fat, mi amor?"

rolling your eyes, you scoff at him. "she's cute like this... i like it..." she gives a loud smooch on her baby's cheek making her giggle more,

miguel bobs sofia lightly in his embrace, inhaling the scent of her shampoo while keeping his eyes on y/n.

none of this was ever planned. miguel had no clue that being married and having a baby would be on his bucket list. if someone would've told him four years ago that he would eventually settle down and have a family, he would tell that person to fuck off and how crazy that idea sounds. because marriage wasn't his thing,

but now? he would kill the entire universe for his girls

"what are you thinking, papi?" she asks, head tilting in curiosity when his eyes won't move away from her,

he stays silent for a moment, pressing his cheek against sofia's head as she toys with the collar of his shirt,

"vamos a tener a otro bebe" [let's have another baby]

-

i hope this is okay!! xx

[xjoonchildx]

Yeah I totally agree as to how writers are leaving. I agree. Why are they leaving you think?

me figuring out how much trouble i wanna get in tonight

lmaoooooooooo

okay, listen. i have thoughts. i have observations. and i’m going to share some of them with you.

in my experience, most writers have been leaving for one of these three reasons:

1. engagement (rather, the lack thereof)

yeah, yeah i know, writers post about this a lot but here’s why: it’s true. readers on this site, for whatever reason, don’t interact with fics as much as they used to. even some fics that get a lot of likes may only have one or two comments, maybe a couple of reblogs with no feedback.

for what it’s worth, i’ve always felt that for the size of my blog (and how flipping long it takes me to post something) i get wonderful reader feedback and engagement. but i see so many writers struggling out in these tumblr streets, posting really great work that gets very little feedback and it’s discouraging for them. i get it.

i will also be transparent and say that as a writer who biases a “less popular member” it kills me when amazing stories about him (and other “less popular members”) just fall flat.

one of the best hobi stories i ever read had 20 notes when i found it by accident. twenty. it had been posted for some time. in my mind, that was a crime—that story was an absolute masterpiece and it had 20 notes (!). i sent it to every person i knew short of my mama because i was offended that people hadn’t recognized its brilliance. sadly, that writer left tumblr and took her masterpiece with her which brings me to my next point:

2. drama and writer-on-writer crime

phew y’all, there’s just so much of it. i don’t know what it is about tumblr that makes some people lose their absolute minds but they sure damned do. i’ve been here for a minute and i have seen it all.

writers mounting anonymous hate campaigns against one another (this happens a lot). writers mounting anonymous hate campaigns against people they pretended were friends (this one happens a lot a lot). writers sending themselves a boatload of hate anons to get sympathy and attention on the dash (this one happens a lot a lot a lot).

popular writers going out of their way to befriend up-and-coming writers only to then turn around and start nasty whisper campaigns about them when the up-and-coming writer’s blogs and stories eclipse their own in popularity.

insecurity is a hell of a drug.

there are some writers who get on here and they’re cool and they stay cool and they enjoy success and guess what? they’re cool about it.

and then there are the writers who get a few thousand followers and a bunch of notes and delude themselves into thinking they’re real-life celebrities. to those writers i would say: pick the fanciest restaurant in your city, call to make a reservation on a friday night and if they don’t have a slot make sure you let them know you’re really big on tumblr. let me know how that works out for you, okay?

it sounds stupid and it is stupid but this happens on this site all the time. what makes me sad is that it drives people away. they take their personalities and stories and contributions to this insane little space we have here with them, which sucks. the author of that amazing hobi fic? deactivated her account over tumblr drama.

so if you have a blog here and you are so wrapped up in jealousy and insecurity that you feel the need to harass someone off the site (including “friends”), log off and seek help.

3. life (adulting, sigh)

this is the boring one, but it still tracks. this community blew up when covid hit and we all had a lot more time to muse about what kim namjoon would look like in his underwear. but so many people had to get back to the grind after a while, and that meant less time for tumblr and for writing in general (wait is this entire one about me oops)

when i started tumblr i wasn’t working full time. then covid hit. so i had a long stretch where i could dedicate a lot of time to writing and posting. and YES i was still slow, so go ahead and throw that tomato lmao but STILL. it really does impact the number of stories going up and some people who joined during the pandemic just don’t have the time to go back to this like they had before.

so yeah, that’s what i’ve personally seen and experienced on this site. the good news is that for every nasty, insecure writer on this site there are dozens of great people telling great stories. i’m going to stick around for them and i hope you do, too 💕

[misc-obeyme]

would u consider obey me a dead fandom?

Um. Nope. I sure wouldn't.

If there's anybody out there who thinks Obey Me is a dead fandom, I would say they're probably confused about what a dead fandom actually is.

I think an argument could be made saying that there is no such thing as a dead fandom. But I'm going to assume you mean that fan content is at an all time low.

Friend, I have been in fandoms where the content was like... you get a fic or two every year if you're lucky. This for a media that hadn't put out any new content in decades.

Obey Me? I get an average of five asks per day about Obey Me. I can queue 10 posts per day about Obey Me. I still average over 800 notes a day on this here Obey Me blog. In the past few months, we've had new artists and writers joining the community and posting their Obey Me fan works. The game is still active and updating. There are two apps even.

So no, I personally would not consider the Obey Me fandom to be dead by any means.

It's certainly been more active in the past. I'll never forget the surge of activity that happened when Nightbringer first came out. My Solomon fics seemed to double their notes over night lol.

But we're also in a bit of a lull right now because we aren't getting new chapters. Every time an event happens, there's another burst of activity. And then things die down just a little before they surge again. That's the nature of fandom.

Another common fandom thing is people coming and going. I've been here for almost two years, but there are others who have been here for four. And then there are some people who've only been in the fandom for a couple months. And then there are the people who were here at the beginning, but have since moved on. Maybe they only stayed for a few months before moving on. Maybe they're only casually in the fandom, dipping in now and again. This is also just the nature of fandom. There's no right way to do it. And it doesn't reflect on whether a fandom is alive or dead.

Hell, we even have plenty of discourse and toxic stuff in this here fandom, too. More of that when there's nothing else to do, I think, which is unfortunate, but also kinda... just part of fandom.

And all of this is just how it is on Tumblr. I know there are active Obey Me communities on Twitter/X and Instagram, too. I'm just too old and tired to maintain that many socials. I actually have accounts on both of those apps but I rarely use them.

And lastly, I'm a big proponent of being involved in fandom no matter how active the community is. By this I mean, if I still have an Obey Me hyperfixation in ten years when the apps are closed down and nearly everybody else has moved on, I will still be here posting fic. Because I won't leave a fandom until I am ready to move on from it, dead or not. (Sometimes this can mean you are one of the few people still creating for said fandom, but you might be surprised at how many people will still enjoy what you create.)

[machveil]

Are you comfortable with giving advice? If so, can I ask some tips on how to grow your art account on tumblr? I want to open one, but seeing all these accomplished people kinda scares me, and you seem like a confident girly 😔

guys, I have so many opinions and thoughts on everything haha. I’m good to give out advice, it’s just gonna be my take on stuff💅✨

I think it’s good to start off by mentioning this, don’t sweat being a small creator first. I think it’s a really relatable feeling all artists go through - figuring out what you want to create, finding your audience, etc. for the most part, we’ve all been in those shoes. it can be a little nerve wracking, as much as we want to create for ourselves, it’s okay to want attention! you’re putting your work out into the world for that, to share your stuff and hear other people talk about it

it might be a little demoralizing to not get an influx of attention off the bat, but prioritize making something you genuinely want to see. there’s going to be people that like your art - whether it’s niche or not, you’ll enjoy it and those people will too! I like to think of it this way: for every note (comment, reblog, like) you get, imagine another person in the room with you. twenty notes might not look big on your screen, but that’s twenty people in the room with you who enjoy your content. I always think that’s amazing personally

also, I think we forget that smaller and larger creators share that same concern over not being accomplished enough. when it comes to creating there’s the shared experience of “someone else is bigger and better”, I’ve dealt with that before too. you are enough, your work is enough, and there’s always room for self growth. we’re all growing together, finding different methods for our work, sharing tips. personally, my mindset is “people will come for the art, stay for me”. having a larger or smaller audience doesn’t make you more or less accomplished

okay! actual blog tips - these are what I focus on personally🎀✨

sort of a restatement from above, but focus on having fun. genuinely enjoying what you’re creating and sharing can be felt through the screen, it’s okay to indulge in what you want to create! your blog is like your house, you can decorate and customize it with whatever you want, might as well be the things that make you happy. if you start off drawing (a) but want to draw (b) too? draw (b) too!

my blog is CoD based, I draw König everyday, people are here for that. but, I post other art when I want to and people stay around for that too! I want to draw Wriothesley (Genshin Impact) or Sunday (HSR)? I’ll draw them and post them - again, it’s my “people will come for the art, stay for me” mentality

tags! tagging your content for the best reach is always helpful. I have four tags I always use for my artwork, “art”, “sketch”, “doodle”, and “fanart”. the “art” tag usually gets boosted on Tumblr every couple days so that’s always a safe bet, “sketch”, “doodle”, and “fanart” are also just good tags to use. now, getting down to specifics - I draw character art so I tag based on the characters. if you draw still life, background, etc I would tag as such, and then dip into specifics. for König I always tag “konig”, “könig”, “könig cod”, “könig call of duty”, “könig fanart”, “cod”, and “call of duty”. it helps to cover your bases and reach for people finding your work. if the character has a full government name I also tag for that (ex. “ghost”, “simon ghost riley”, “simon riley”)

consistency! this one is very optional!! post whenever you want to - time, date, whatever works for you. I personally post a daily König sketch every day because I can (I’m never busy enough not to personally), it is so realistic not to do that though

on a smaller scale, you can post consistently, like, once a week or something. I feel like I have to mention consistency because, to some degree, consistency does help creators grow - that said, cater your consistency to your schedule!! consistency is completely optional, you can post something one day and then dip for (x amount of time). don’t push yourself to meet dates if you can’t, this is Tumblr, we’re here for fun and good vibes. if you usually post (x) on, say, Fridays but can’t do it this week? don’t push yourself. it’s okay to not be consistent, if an artist you follow missed a post when they usually post you wouldn’t mind (your audience won’t mind either)

these are just my takes on what’s been helpful for my blog, you can always do stuff differently than me🌸✨all in all, I think the biggest take away is cater to yourself - if you enjoy what you’re putting out into the world people will find you. like, I’m here for König and proud of it, and you know what? my mutuals and followers are also here for that, but they’re also here for me! and they’re so cool and sweet for that<3 anon, if you do what you love then you’ll gain an audience that’s like you, I think that’s pretty amazing

also, when in doubt✨

[itsjustbell]

Sleep

Summary: After a long day at the studio, you decide to pay your favorite scientist a little visit and maybe convince him to get some much-needed rest.

Lol, I did end up putting this on a separate blog. This is the first fic I'm posting to Tumblr. I had to hype myself up for this, but I hope y'all like it. Please let me know if y'all would want more of this kind of stuff haha I totally didn't redo my whole blog just to post this, so I could keep my art and writing on separate accounts

Oh and thanks to @bruh-anator3000 for the confidence boost, i love you _______________________

You could see the blue glow of HexTech from under the lab’s door before you even entered the room. Familiar piles of blueprints and scribbled out calculations lay scattered across desks and floors alike. You made special note of the ones that bore black burns on their borders. You’d reckon that the lab was almost as messy as your studio back in the arts and design side of the Academy, splattered with paint and littered with tools strewn haphazardly on tables. Mess was the calling card of a creative you supposed, and at the center of this particular one, bathed in blue light and golden sparks, was Viktor.

Despite the echoing clack of your shoes against the floor, he stayed seemingly unaware of your presence. Not that he usually acknowledged the presence of many while he was working, but you still thought that perhaps the sharp sound disturbing the relative peace would have caught his attention. Even as you stood behind him, peering over his shoulder, he kept working. If he knew you were there, he made no show of it.

He flinched as you placed a hand on his shoulder, cursing. A part of you almost felt bad for spooking him, and you would’ve if he wasn’t wearing those stupidly adorable blue goggles. He looked over his shoulder at you with what you could only fathom was a glare through those thick blue lenses.

“You’re lucky I didn’t drop anything,” He scolded, setting down whatever it was he was tinkering with. It looked to be some sort of mechanical…claw with one of those hex balls he and Jayce had been troubleshooting. “You should know better than to disturb a scientist when he is working. This is—” He picked up the blue orb– “dangerous stuff I’m working with!”

“Mhmmm, and what would you have done? Beat me to death with this contraption of yours?” You gently removed his goggles, holding back a laugh. He grumbled as you did, but the pout that had formed a tight knot on his face all but melted away as you started to smooth out his goggle-hair. His hair was soft, though slightly slicked with grease.

“Is it so late that even you have stopped working to grace me with your presence?” He asked.

“I think I could hear the morning doves as I walked here.”

He hummed, slinking deeper into his chair as your fingers carded through his hair.

“You’re going to tell me it’s time to sleep, aren’t you?”

“It’s important,” You say as you work out a particularly unruly knot, “and I think your back could use the break from all the times you’ve passed out at this desk just this month.”

You slid your hands down the back of his neck and gave his shoulders a light squeeze. He shuddered under your hands. You leaned down to his ear.

“You’re turning into a shrimp,” You mused. He gasped dramatically, turning around in his chair with a hand to his heart.

“How dare you!”

You laughed, a smirk playing on your lips, “If it hurts so much, you must know it’s true.”

“Who said things have to be true to hurt?”

Despite the oh-so-scornful look on his face, he didn’t move when you placed your hands on his cheeks. “Are you going to sleep or not, Vik?”

He hummed, meeting your eyes with a playful smile. “Ehh… With all these insults of yours… I don’t think I’ve been properly persuaded yet.” His hands found their way to your hips, drawing you in close. Half-lidded amber eyes suddenly turned to alluring whiskey, and you eagerly drank them in.

“And what would you suggest?”

His eyes flicked down to your lips.

“A kiss, perhaps?” You chuckled, but fulfilled his request nevertheless.

You could feel the warmth of his red flush bloom under your fingertips as your lips met his. The hands on your waist wound themselves tighter into the fabric of your shirt, inviting you to rest a knee on the edge of his chair, so you didn’t have to lean down quite so far. His lips were rough against yours, but the abrasion only seemed to make you dizzier with desire. You had to steel yourself in order to pull away, lest you get lost in your lustful daze. An amused hum resounded through your chest when you saw his lips try to follow yours as you leaned back.

“Will that suffice?”

He raised an eyebrow. His pupils had nearly eclipsed his whole iris.

“Surely I can’t convince you into something more?”

“Nice try, mister,” You grab his tie out of his shirt and pull lightly. “You can have more when you’re in bed.”

He sighed in mock annoyance. “Well, if you insist.”

You handed him his cane, which he took begrudgingly, and helped him go through the motions of closing down the lab for the night— or morning, you guessed. The sound of his footsteps and cane alongside yours made for a lovely orchestra for the doves as you walked back to his room.

[natsmagi]

Hey there! Just a general question. Your account is rated 16+ and you're all about it, but kind of frequently post softcore porn and revealing art (a lot of chest groping, sexualized outfits, etc). You've advertised your 18+ poipiku and just limited it to followers only with no additional passwords, but that also permits your followers who are minors to see. Just asking of why do you need the engagement from 16 and 17 year olds? (and of course younger, of not being a priv acc, because many below that follow you) I’m just curious! Is it that hard to make your accounts 18+ and block minors and people with no age in bio?

hello! the 16+ on my profile is more of a content rating, NOT a desired audience rating. in my eyes i had always viewed warnings such as 16+ to be for raunchier stuff but nothing explicit, and 18+ to be for the explicit stuff, so i had just made the assumption that since my stuff is raunchy and not explicit itd make sense to slap a 16+ content warning on my page. however this topic is rather nuanced, and you can argue some of my art treads too closely to being "explicit," so, if i am wrong on this, im more than willing to update my abouts. this account has only ever been a place for me to share my art, and i havent really stopped to think about who might be watching enough as i generally try to avoid thinking about these accounts as much as i can. and for that negligence i do apologize

as for the poipiku stuff; i created it so id have a place to post nsfw stuff without flashing people with it. i always state on the post that it is 18+, indicating i do not want those younger to be interacting with it. i cannot control what my audience does or doesnt do, nor do i have any way to tell if im being lied to or not when it comes to ones age. i like to avoid using my art tumblr and art twitter as much as possible, so if i were to add a password it would still be something easy to crack that minors may still disrespect. i made it followers only so my stuff wouldnt spread further and to minimize its reach

either way, my art accounts are predominantly places for me to simply post my art and, on occasion, my thoughts. i do not use my art accounts as a hangout place or somewhere to socialize, and i avoid checking my followers alot because i dont wanna obsess over numbers and an audience for my own sake. i am not always on this account, and i barely touch my art twitter at all, i dont really know everything thats going on and whats happening as i try to keep to myself and stay in my own little bubble.

i understand what youre getting at, and if you think there are better ways for me to go about keeping minors safe online then im more than willing to hear it out. please note though that this account is not my entire life. this is not where i spend most of my time. i have other things i need to do, thus i do not have time to monitor every single person who interacts with me. this accounts sole intent is to simply share what i make, and i hope that those too young to interact will respect that its not for them, because at the end of the day theres truly only so much i can do.

you are making this sound predatory when its just me being overly avoidant of interacting with others, which by proxy has lead to me giving lackluster precautions which is worthy of criticism on its own. you dont need to make it into something bigger. i agree that i probably couldve set better boundaries, but at the end of the day i dont use these accounts alot and i try to mind my own business, because frankly i dont like having alot of eyes on me. but the negligence of my accounts is definitely an oversight on my end, so for that i do apologize. i had added the 16+ rating before i started posting raunchier stuff, and its kinda snowballed since. so either way it likely is time for an update

[trulybetty]

Sunday Week In Review XVI & 2023 Wrapped

I feel like 2023 just started five minutes ago, am I the only one who feels like this year as passed by quickly but at the same time dragged its heels?

I've seen so many lovely end of year close out posts and years in review. I toyed with how I wanted to close out the year and what I could say that could sum it up sufficiently.

Betty rambles under the cut with this weeks reads if you're interested...

2023 has been a weird year if I'm entirely honest and somewhat isolating. I returned from mat leave, back to working from home, and having to scramble to make adjustments when things fell through. Which resulted in Mr. Truly and I working opposite shifts to ensure the S.S. Truly stayed afloat.

But during the last six months somehow I made it back to Tumblr, to an old account from way back when - pre-dating when the Canucks made it to game seven kinda old - I blew off the dust, cleaned house and made myself a little space. I still don't know 100% how it all happened, though I think it started with the Reddit forum.

You don't need to know the whole spiel about Pedro, because while we're here because of him, it's the community that holds us here. After floating and not really knowing what I was doing, I started to make connections within this community and finding a seat at the table (we'll come back to that) and I found joy again. I'd kinda lost myself in the fog that is half a dozen other titles/roles others looked to me as that had replaced just Betty.

I started writing, hadn't done that in years. I rekindled by love for graphic design, what I went to school for. I was reading books again, as well as so many great fanfics here. I even bought poetry books, something I hadn't done since I don't know when.

I've been really fortunate in my experience that I've encountered so many wonderful people. I may not get to be as social as I'd like to be, and I still have a fear of dropping into DM's & Asks unannounced. I have the shittest memory, if I don't keep a tab open or reply straight away it's sometimes days or weeks before I remember again. But I really hope that I've returned in kind what others have given me because I'd hate for anyone to feel like they don't belong here, because you do.

This community is a table (told you I'd come back) and it's size is immeasurable. It has no bounds and there's always room for whatever kind of chair you pull up and if you don't have one? We'll find one. Need to leave for a while? We'll save your seat. This my friends is a community, and if you're met with those who tell you the table is full, I'm telling you now, they're not a part of it.

Are there going to be those with more notes? Yes. Are there going to be people you're going to compare your writing to? Yes. Are you going to maybe want to pack it all in and delete your masterlist now and then? Yes.

But none of that takes away anything that makes you, you and what you bring to the table.

Life is hard enough without the added pressure of thinking you need to score imaginary internet points with stats and metrics that carry no value. I wish I knew the magic formula, because I'm still trying to figure it out myself, but let's try and be kinder to ourselves eh?

But I'm really going into 2024 with the goal of curating my own joy - whether it be indulging in the fanfics I want to write and read, more obnoxious coffees, a new fountain pen, giving myself permission to buy the fancy notebook, get back to baking or binging both seasons of Julia and pretending I can make one of her recipes.

So to sum it up, before this goes into a further incoherent ramble, this year has been about reaching out, starting connections and building something meaningful. I've met some amazing people that I am lucky to call friends and without their kindness and extending a seat at the table I'm not sure I'd still be around these parts.

Here's to more of that in 2024 - while I'm not always the best at replying to messages, my DM's and Ask's are always open, feel free to drop in at any time 💕

Pedro Tax™️ for your time...

T R U L Y  U P D A T E S . . .

December x 500 is complete-ish? Thanks to being sick towards the end of the month there's three entries missing, but I'm hoping to sneak them in during the new year! I'm looking forward to a quieter writing schedule that's for sure!

W H A T  I  R E A D . . . Didn't read as much as I wanted to this week - but I'm off this next week, so hoping to do a little more and get through some of my TBR list!

All I Want for Christmas (Frankie) by @morallyinept This was a delightful festive meet-cute that had me on the edge of my seat and also explores the character of Frankie and the ramifications of his actions on his friendships and his ex. 

All I Want (Will Miller) by @laurfilijames This was a bittersweet one-shot that touched on the idea that the festive season isn’t always for everyone and that you never know what’s going on with someone. 

I Put My Book Down to Be Here (Dieter) by @frenchiereading My first New Year’s Eve fic I’ve read this season and it’s so sweet and has a soft Dieter (my fave), who is still his chaotic self! I loved this from start to finish and such a great meet-cute!

Had Me Fooled (Dave) by @wildemaven Heidi has done such an amazing job with this mini series that can be read as a standalone or as a series. I love a soft Dave and Heidi does it so well. This last one had my toes curling in all their romantic glory and I will be revisiting this series again I'm sure!

Reunions (The Thief) by @ladamedusoif I'm behind on Rose's December prompts, but this was the steamy follow up to My Kiss, Only For You (go read that first, no seriously, go read it) and it was so delectable and my greedy self hopes we see these two again in the future.

Cookies (Tim) by @ladamedusoif Speaking of delicious things, this was as indulgent and sweet as the cookies made in this fic. Tim was one of the characters I didn't see becoming such a favourite this year - but I love seeing everyone's interpretation of him. This one here? In my top ranked versions 🫠

So here's to 2024!

Thank you for every interaction, reblog, or tag - every single one is held clutched to my heart in appreciation every time!

Stay safe, and whatever you're doing or wherever you are sending you much love!

[daybringersol]

Hey ! I’m Sol, Juno, Chip or Art, whichever you prefer, and you can use he/him, eon/eons, myr/myrrh, hy/hymn, it/its and masculine terms for me. I’m a paradox, I don’t abide to labels and stuff like that, not in the way that I don’t use them, more in the way that I just go with what feels right in the moment, without forcing myself to stay static. Right now, I’m an anarchaqueer, biaro man, but I’m fluid, so don’t get attached too much ! I’m also québecois and not shy about it; feel free to talk to me in french or english.

more pronoun options [link]

read CROSSTALK [link]

art collection sideblog : @solsanctae

Working towards being an editor professionally, so open to beta for fics or other stories, just DM me !

I’m currently trying to cut back on political commentary on here, both in reblogs or in my own posts, because it triggers my moral OCD. Please note that you cannot extrapolate how much activism someone partakes in based on their tumblr activity.

I’m for the liberation of Palestine, against antitransmasculinity (as not being so would betray my own life experiences), for the independence of Québec, against antisemitism, for a kind of aspec solidarity that includes non-aroace aspecs and respects the differences in our experiences, against the police & the current psychiatric system, for the destigmatization of kinks, fetishes & ‘scary’ mental disorders, against exclusionism & label policing in the queer community, for the exploration of complex topics in fiction (including in ‘lowbrow’ medias like fanfiction), against both gender & sex essentialism & binaries, for LandBack, against the criminalisation of (all) drugs & sex work, and passionate about much more topics than those included in this short list. I believe that morality is not determined by your thoughts but by your actions, and that what kind of bigotry you’re affected by is not determined by your identity but by how & if it is perceived. If you’re planning on harassing me about any of these beliefs, I’d recommend simply blocking me instead, as I will not answer any questions I don’t believe to be asked in good faith.

I’m 21 so keep that in mind. There should be little NSFW stuff on here, pretty much only artistic nudity & jokes.

Please note that I do have a separate (appropriately tagged) NSFW account, and that if you go looking for it, it’s your fault for seeing things you don’t want to see. Bringing here what I post to that account, or ‘exposing’ it to others with the goal to judge or mock me is sexual harassment. There’s a reason those accounts are separate.

I’m fully fine with (appropriately tagged) NSFW topics being explored in fandom, including JRWI (as those same things are explored in the source material). I believe the council’s boundaries are to not do RPF and to not show them porn of their characters. Feel free to block me if that makes you uncomfortable.

I’m not going to tag every time I talk about my own experiences with abuse, addiction, SA, C-PTSD, pure O (internal OCD, in my case moral), P-DID and stuff like that, so feel free to block if that’s something that could trigger you. I don’t talk about it often though, and will tag it if it’s too graphic.

I am the host of a system, this account should be mine & mine only but we’ll see. The way I see my plurality is not the generally agreed upon way in the plural community (e.g. I am my body; the others are at best symbiotes, at worst parasites), so don’t think I represent anyone else but myself. Don’t ask me to have an opinion on endogenic systems, I don’t care.

If you tag me in stuff where you have to tag your friends and then they tag their friends, I enjoy and appreciate it, but I most likely won’t tag other people cuz it makes me anxious !

I usually do PTs, IDs and/or alt text on my flags and userboxes but I don’t always have the energy that requires of me, so sorry about that.

Flags : No credits needed, except if put on a wiki or pinterest, in which case credits are needed (preferably a link).

Userboxes : No credits needed, but reblog the post you got it from.

Visual arts : No reposting, but can be used as pfp/banner with credits.

Poetry : Reposting is fine, but with credits.

[5and3nevermind]

Have you heard about the recent hate directed towards jm’s dad from solos and delusional taekookers? It was so bad to the point that the cafe’s instagram had to turn off their comments.

The hate towards jm seems to be endless and is so frustrating especially when it comes from shippers who hate him based on their own made up fantasies.

Hi anon. Yes, I have. I’ve been thinking about what to say about it. In fact, I have a post sitting in my drafts that I saved so that I could think it over. I edited it and toned it way down, but then I wondered what the point would even be of posting in its current milder form.

Not to make this about me, but when someone says something that hurts me, my instinct is to back away and not argue about it. I know that’s not ideal.

I really care about Jm, and when I see everything that’s going on lately, I end up reporting/blocking people and logging off. I’m not sure if the people who are harassing him and his family can be reasoned with. So what’s the point? I don’t know what the answer is.

Anyway, regarding this situation…

I want to preface this by saying that we shouldn’t make blanket statements about people. There are kind, reasonable taekookers and there there are cruel, unreasonable ones. Same with jikookers, solos, ot7, etc.

That said, I think the situation with the cafe is out of control and a lot of it is born out of information being taken out of context.

There is no “jkk shrine” at the cafe. The table that we often see in pictures is filled with items, the vast majority of which have to do with Jm and only Jm. These items were gifts from fans. They were not hand-picked by Jm’s dad or anyone else at the cafe. A friend of mine visited the cafe about six months ago, and sent me pics because she knew I’d be curious. (They aren’t my pics to post, so I can’t share them here, unfortunately.) I spotted maybe two “jikook” items in her pics and they weren’t even shippy. It was, like, a pic of Jm and Jk standing next to each other. Not a big deal and totally platonic if you ask me.

There have been other little things: bt21 characters and whatnot, for instance on the Christmas tree, but this is not some grand declaration that “jkk is real” like some people want to believe. So, taekookers and solos need to calm the hell down. He can display whatever he wants in his own cafe. If it bothered jm or jk or anyone else in the group, or the company, I’m pretty damn sure they’d just approach his dad and discuss it. People act as if the guys lack the ability to handle things themselves.

In this situation, there is plenty of blame to go around: the jikooker who sent the “jikook is real” card or whatever that was needs to have some class. I talk about shipping here in my weird little corner of tumblr, but sending something to the cafe? That’s not right. Meanwhile, other shippers, solos, etc need to leave Jm and his family alone. Why do they assume the worst intentions of others? Maybe he read the note and didn’t think it was a big deal? Maybe he didn’t translate the note from Spanish to Korean and wasn’t aware of what it said? Maybe his dad didn’t even see it himself and it was placed there by cafe staff? Either way, WHO CARES.

And then of course, after all of this mess there was retaliation toward Jk via Bam’s account. Which is equally unhinged. What on earth does that accomplish?

I’m Jm biased and often can’t stand the way some people in this fandom talk about him. I have loads of theories about why this is, why he is assigned attributes that aren’t in-line with reality. But I don’t want to discuss that and put those negative thoughts out into the universe.

I’ll just finish by saying that I understand a lot of people lump all of us shippers into one category. But I think for the most part yoonminers do a good job of staying in our lane and not causing drama. There have been plenty of rumors of yoonmin sightings, a paparazzi video, etc and we never say a word about it thank you very much! Because we know our place, and we understand that the guys’ safety and privacy is way more important than winning some online argument. I’ve written about…I don’t know…70% of my yoonmin thoughts/opinions on this blog because the other 30% is none of our business and I don’t need to be shouting it from the rooftops.

(I tried to take Jm’s name out of this post so it wouldn’t be searchable in that way, but I probably missed at least one. I’m happy to discuss this a little more but otherwise I think it’s best to move on to more positive matters. 💜)

[defiledtomb]

Ouroboros: Progress

I haven't written one of these in forever, so it's slightly clunky, but I aim to have one of these out at least every quarter, if not monthly. Let's dive into it! Spoiler warning for the sneak peeks at the bottom.

What I got done since last month:

After the update drop, I took some time off the main story to prevent the budding burnout. I’m sure you are well aware of my malaise by now- it's a constant effort to stay on the tightrope.

I don't think I brought it up explicitly but when I started writing Ouroboros it was me riding the high of becoming a person again right after years long sick leave and battle with mental health, meaning that while I am absolutely thrilled that I'm getting so much out of life again, that fragile part of me still lives on and I have to take care not to let it get the best of me, and that means constant vigilance and self-compassion. Writing a project this big could easily be a full time job on its own, but I also have to account for going back to the workforce after being gone for so long. It's tough! irl work/life keeps amping up and will continue to eat my energy. Though, come summer, I might actually have some good news on my schedule and how my writing will fit into that. Fingers crossed.

Otherwise I have really enjoyed interacting and goofing around with you on tumblr again, and I’ve had a blast just reading and playing games. It was a very welcomed break. I still got a lot done regarding Ouroboros:

- Got started on all the short stories you voted on, and built the framework of code for how stories will be unlocked as you progress the story. 

- I got some much needed help with setting up a side-blog for writing content only; it’s getting there! Soon Ouro will have its own space.

- I added about 3k words to the next chunk of act 1. A drop in the ocean, but progress is progress. 

- I started sneak-writing on the next act and specifically, the underwater/caving chapter. I am so excited for it! Besides writing and hiking, diving and caving are core parts of my interests. (Didn't I once say that Ouro is disgustingly self indulgent? x] Because it sure is.) 

What’s next:

I am still taking it slow, since most of act 1 pt2 is already written  (60k words ish), and I have some responsibilities I’m gonna need to devote my time to. My goals for February are leading up to Ouro’s first anniversary, so I want to prepare something fun for us to enjoy! If it will be a chunk of update or something else remains to be decided. On the 8th of March we ride.

My priorities for February are:

-having fun with the short stories

-get the sideblog up and running with a new FAQ and character pages, and a new intro post.

-solidify the code and scene transitions for the next update 

- (stretch goal) edit/rewrite/add to the unhinged mess that the next update still is 

 Re: bug reports

Thankfully, last update was relatively bug free, but there are still a few reports sitting in my inbox waiting for changes, mainly

-the egregious oversight of having id's romance scenes appearing although the hunter is committed to L/not in the poly. More on that here.

-the questions with Iontif cutting off short in one path

-a section of the flashback with wrong pronouns + other pronoun variables not displaying correctly (the bane of my existence!!)

Thank you to those who reported these, I always note them down if I don't fix them directly. The reason why I am almost always tardy on bug fixes is because I'm treating this as a first draft that will be rewritten; it makes little sense to dedicate so much time to fixing things that will need to be fixed again. I do them when I have little else I want/have to do. I'm sorry! Triaging problem areas is essential to keeping this show going. I hope that it isn't too invasive to have a few errors in the scenes; rest assured that they will get fixed (eventually 🤡)

Re: save system

Something that has really bothered me lately, is thinking about CoG's obstinate refusal to implement save systems. I absolutely won't release Ouroboros without one, as with how much variation goes into the story (and knowing from first-hand experience playing large games, that one miss-click (or that horrendous bug that chooses options for you if you even look at it wrong) will have you go down a path you didn’t want, or you are faced with starting over, which sometimes leads to such fatigue that you just…stop playing.) it feels like shooting yourself in the foot to not have one. And worse, it feels plain cruel to subject the reader to that. There isn’t any possible way to fit every nuance of a choice into the box-text, or to imply a delayed outcome as a result of making a choice that seems very “innocent” at first glance.

So I stand before a really difficult decision; either code a save system from the bottom up, and I would have to do that sooner rather than later, or port the game to twine which brings its own bundle of problems. Right now I honestly no idea what I want to do, and I have to admit that it fuels a bit of writer's block as I feel locked in place until I come to a decision. Heurgh.

Now for the fun part. Sneak peeks!

I wont share the latter parts as they are still... Unhinged. But the next update isn't just romance, its weapons and insidious cults and fighting, too.  More on that, later.

Thanks for your support, your kind words and for sharing your journey in Ouro. It means the world to me. I’m serious!

[twilight-good-yall-dumb]

A perspective on social media from a girl who (mostly) had none~

Recently, I created an Instagram account, because I wanted to experience what having a normal social media was like for a change. I haven't been on any traditional social media besides Tumblr since early high school (I am now an adult in college), and I've kept it that way for a reason. I'd had Instagram, Twitter, and maybe even snapchat way back when, all throughout middle school and up into my freshman year of high school. But then I realized what a terrible impact it had on my mental health and also became a bit of a luddite simultaneously. So, after a few bad interactions with social media my freshman year, I'd proven to myself that it did more harm than good in my life, and I got rid of it (seemingly) forever.

Fast forward to me at the start of this summer. I was feeling isolated (back in my hometown, away from my university life), and I had a thought that almost instantly became a plan. I would get Instagram for the summer. At the time, it felt brilliant. I could experience social media properly as an adult, study the effect it had on me, stay in touch with friends while I was lonely, and have an opportunity to post some of the film photos I was proud of. The excellent caveat was that I had given myself a time restraint. By the end of summer, I'm to delete the account no matter my experience. I told my friends about my plan and made them promise me that they would not let me keep it any longer than I'd stated.

So, I make an account, and it's fun! I'm following all of my friends, I'm connecting. I get the dopamine rush of posting for the first time, getting follow requests and comments from my lovely friends, all very enthusiastic for this experiment. But even in the high, I could already see that nothing had changed. My brain was systematically the same brain it had been all those years ago, and I knew almost instantly, that I would have no trouble deleting the account when the time came.

Now here's the thing: I don't regret making it. I've had fun, but the way that it almost immediately shifted my focus and scattered my routine has been sort of mortifying. I've found myself many times mindlessly scrolling and thinking, "I thought I was better than this? I thought I'd bested the brain rot and short attention span of social media?" But what I've realized is that there's really no such thing. The only way to do that (other than maybe not being neurodivergent but uh, I can't help that) was to just not have it at all.

And the process as well has made me reflect on Tumblr as a platform. What I've come away with thus far is that Tumblr, despite being a far less profitable or populated social media than most, is a far healthier online space (for the most part. it still has it's issues, like a hivemind mentality at times, etc.). I've seen posts where people discuss this before, but it's become so true to me: Tumblr is one of the only social medias that truly encourages discussion. It's the only social media where people aren't scared of words. Nowhere else could I make this post, nowhere else would something this long and convoluted gain any traction or incentivize any interaction. And though I have no idea if this will get any notes, I do know that it's possible. Being so used to that, it's been so strange to try and wrap my head around the short form content I'm fed over there (I think TikTok would put me in my grave). Whether it's the caption on a post, the length of a video, the comments, the words accompanying a story, language and content is so restricted. There is so little to be said and so little to add.

As I've played around with stories, I've had a blast simply making myself laugh and posting little photo collages of things I've been up to or making shitty ms paint stories with my random thoughts. But what's so strange to me is I'll make a story, post it, and then look at how much I've written and feel ashamed for it. And how can you not when the function of a story is to last a few seconds? Sure, Instagram is meant to be a primarily visual platform, but these are not novels I am writing, they are simply thoughts. Sentences. And I look at them and feel embarrassed immediately for putting so much of myself on display.

Which only feeds into my final thoughts on the thing. Relative anonymity on social media is a fucking gift. We are so incredibly blessed on this hellsite to be given the opportunity to create a blog rid of any semblance of our true identity, and still create a community. We can post about the things we love unashamedly, discuss our interests at length, and make friends with mutuals, all while never feeling obligated to give any of your real self away. I think that is the most beautiful version of an online space we can cultivate. I post something a little bit goofy on my Instagram, and I immediately fear the way people (in my real life) will perceive the REAL version of myself. I think constantly about how the version of me in other people's minds is being systematically molded by the presence I have on that damn website, and it's crippling. I'll never get to be my truest self there, because I'm too scared of a somewhat uncontrolled group of people knowing so much about me. But here, fuck it. I can say the most untamed, feral things, and somebody will like it and maybe even play along, all while having no idea who that thought belongs to. There's a peace there.

Lastly, on an unserious note, this website has altered the way I talk about things in an online space that I think normal people just are not equipped for. I will say something on my Instagram that I assume is recognizably a joke or meant to be taken lightly, and I'll have somebody respond to it in a manner that disregards the sarcasm or silliness all together. I'm like dude, this is clearly a funny, a silly even. Perhaps I'm just too weird for normal social media, and I can accept that. But honestly, I think so many people would benefit from being their true selves in real life only, and approaching their online space as something different entirely. Let the world and the people around you discover who you are as a person, not the curated profile you have on some evil website. Delete your social media. Embrace peace and discover a sense of self that is separate from the shallow online world. And maybe get a tumblr. It's pretty cool here.